Before Nightfall
Page 1
Before Nightfall
© Rachel Amphlett 2014
All rights reserved
The copyright of this book belongs to Rachel Amphlett
No reproduction without permission
The names, characters and events in this book are used fictitiously.
Any similarity to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-0-9922685-3-4
© Copyright Rachel Amphlett 2014
The copyright of this book belongs to Rachel Amphlett
No reproduction without permission
The names, characters and events in this book are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
From the Author
White Gold
Under Fire
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Northumberland, UK
Kate Foster’s breath escaped her lips in short, shallow bursts.
The sack, which had been placed over her head when she had first been attacked, clung to her mouth and nose with each inhaled gasp.
Condensation prickled against her face, the lack of air suffocating. Her heart beat rapidly, hammering against her ribcage, while a trickle of sweat worked its way between her breasts.
The hard wooden chair pierced the denim fabric of her jeans, and she wriggled backwards, trying to ease the pressure on her pelvic bone.
‘Stay still,’ said a voice to her right.
Her head twitched, and she held her breath, sensing the man as he drew closer. She caught a faint trace of his scent through the musty fabric of the sackcloth – sweat, a hint of hours-old aftershave.
Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach clenched. The smell grew stronger, and she turned her head from side to side, trying to gauge the man’s exact location. A faint echo of his shower gel lingered in the air between them, a mixture of musk and jasmine.
‘No-one’s coming to get you,’ he murmured in her ear.
Kate jumped in her seat, not realising his proximity had been so close. Her heart raced harder, and she exhaled, trying to keep calm, the rushing sound in her ears now deafening.
A low chuckle vibrated next to her skin. She twisted, trying to gain some distance between them.
She’d lost all sense of time. This morning, she’d been talking to three colleagues outside, taking advantage of the rare sunshine that had bathed the courtyard.
The attack had been swift, well-coordinated, with no warning.
Her jewellery and watch had been removed from her, and then she’d been shoved into a small room with her colleagues, and told to stay silent.
Maybe an hour had passed, during which time her colleagues had been taken one by one from the room, leaving the remaining captives to their own thoughts.
Then, the hostage takers had returned for her, dragging her from the sitting position she’d been forced to adopt, the sack over her head damp with condensation from her breath.
She’d felt a hard surface under her feet, and then a door had slammed shut behind her. She’d been forced into a chair, before her wrists were pushed through plastic cuffs and secured.
Now, her breathing increased as she tried to remember what she’d been told, what to do to keep her captor calm. She worked her wrists, trying to loosen the cuffs and keep the circulation flowing through her fingers.
‘They’ll pay you,’ she whispered, then coughed and cleared her throat before repeating herself. ‘They’ll pay you. To let me go. To keep me safe.’
An exasperated sigh escaped the man’s lips.
Kate held her breath, and then jumped as the sackcloth was ripped off her head. She blinked in the rays of light shining through the grubby farmhouse window.
‘No!’
The voice drew her attention back to the man who was now standing in front of her, hands on hips, glaring.
‘Don’t ever try to bargain with them,’ he said, then turned and strode across the room to a table. He threw the sackcloth onto it and slumped into another chair, facing her, his foot tapping an unknown beat on the floor. ‘You do that, they’re going to feed on your desperation.’
Kate shifted in her seat and watched his heel bounce up and down, and then caught him staring at her. She blushed and lowered her gaze.
The hostage course was so damn hard – only three days to remember everything the instructors were trying to teach her, on top of a bad case of jetlag after her flight from the US two days ago. The difficulty rating went through the ceiling when the taller of the two, now berating her, looked so bloody good in the tight black t-shirt he was wearing with his jeans.
She raised her head and watched the man who was running his hand through his unkempt brown hair, frustration etched across his face.
He appeared to ignore her discomfort. ‘Small steps. Build up a rapport – don’t discuss politics, religion or your own situation. Keep it simple. Ask for small favours.’ His voice rose. ‘And under no circumstances talk about paying a ransom. Ever.’
He rose from the chair and stalked towards her. ‘That’s the hostage negotiator’s job, and you could ruin everything he’s trying to do to save you. Remember the basics we discussed in the classroom yesterday?’
Kate swallowed. She found her concentration wavering as she stared into his green eyes, sure she could see gold flecks around the edge of his irises, and then cursed inwardly as her bottom lip quivered. Although it was a simulated kidnapping, it had been frighteningly real.
Her eyes stung, and she blinked, inhaled deeply and tried to ignore the heat in her face. ‘Can you at least untie me?’
He waited for a heartbeat, and then turned, shaking his head. ‘You sort her out,’ he said over his shoulder and pushed his way through a door which led to the yard outside.
Kate’s mouth dropped open in indignation, before her attention was drawn to another, older man approaching her.
He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a knife and bent down. He flicked the blade open. As he raised the blade, he glanced up, his grey eyes twinkling with humour.
‘Ignore Finn,’ he said. ‘He’s having a bad day.’
A faint smile stole across Kate’s face, and she sniffed. ‘Really, Steve? What’s he like on a good day?’
He smirked. ‘You’ve got another day and a half to go, so I’ll have a word, get him to play nice. Keep still.’
She nodded and watched as he gathered her wrists within one of his hands and sawed through the plastic cuffs that held her.
Kate slumped into the canvas chair and bit into an apple while she watched the small group of people move around the room, laughing and joking. The morning’s training session had left her feeling overwhelmed and out of her depth.
&nb
sp; When she’d applied for the job three months ago, it had been an act of defiance. In her mind, it was a way to move on from a messy split from a long-term relationship with a man who’d admitted to having a lengthy affair, only days after telling her he didn’t share her need to start a family.
The rejection still hurt. Secretly, she hoped that by throwing herself into the deep end with such a demanding role, the pain would fade.
She took another bite of the apple and thought about the new passport safely tucked away in her bedside drawer at the hotel. The online advertisement for the role promised international travel in return for hard work and unparalleled dedication to the Business Development division of the owner’s company.
She observed him now.
Ian Hart walked around the room, laughing and joking with the other new staff members who had joined him at the remote farmhouse for the survival course. An electronics engineer, he had invented a new computer circuit in his twenties which, thirty years later, was an integral part of seventy per cent of the world’s surface-to-air missile systems. And he was still hungry for the remaining thirty per cent.
Using the money from the defence side of his business, he’d expanded it to encompass hospitals, universities and IT companies – the division by which Kate would now be employed.
The only concession to his notorious business drive which had been made this weekend had been for his American wife, Cynthia, to join the small group in the evenings for dinner. Kate secretly thought that as the only other female in the group, this was more for her benefit than Ian’s.
Finn Scott, the man who had been interrogating her earlier, had taken up residence at the far end of the room, and despite the recent antagonism between them, Kate couldn’t help watching him out of the corner of her eye as he spoke with her new employer.
She wondered what his background was – Marines? Special Forces? Federal agent? American in any case, the same as she – and a long way from home here in the wilds of the Northumbrian moors. There was something of the military about him, and the lower half of a tattoo poked out from the sleeve of his t-shirt, but he wore his hair longer than an army buzz cut – and no wedding ring she noted, smiling.
She broke away from her thoughts as he approached with Ian, a lazy grin on his face as he passed.
‘Don’t get too comfortable, princess,’ he drawled. ‘We’ll be doing it all again within the hour.’
With that, he followed Ian out the room and closed the door behind them.
She sighed, stood, and threw the apple core into the nearest bin before joining her colleagues and tried to look enthusiastic about being held hostage by the infuriating man.
‘You can’t take her with you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. She’s already got the job. Her visas came through last week.’
‘Cancel them.’
Ian Hart threw the report he’d been reading onto the desk surface and turned to face Finn, his hands on his hips. ‘Don’t tell me how to run my business.’
Finn ran a hand through his hair, and began pacing across the carpet. ‘She’s too inexperienced. She’s never even been overseas until now. She fell apart in the training for Christ’s sake!’ He turned to Steve. ‘Help me out here, will you? Tell him!’
‘I use your company to train my staff so they are ready,’ said Hart. ‘After that, and once we’re travelling, she’ll share the same security as me. She’ll have an apartment in the same secure compound as the rest of my staff. Every time she leaves her apartment or the office, she’ll have a driver with her.’ Turning, he stepped round the desk and sat down heavily in the leather chair behind it. Leaning back, he placed his feet on the desk and watched Finn pace back and forth. ‘Why are you so concerned anyway?’
Finn stopped and glared at Ian. ‘Because if anything happened to her, I’d feel responsible. It’s my job to make sure she’s ready.’
Ian cocked an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’ He stared at Finn for a second, and then smirked. ‘Would you be that concerned if something happened to me?’
‘Oh piss off,’ said Finn wearily. He slumped into one of the armchairs which faced the desk, and ignored the other man’s laughter.
‘Okay, enough,’ Steve Orton, Finn’s boss, said. ‘This isn’t helping anyone. Ian, with all due respect, if Finn believes she needs more training, then you should delay her trip. She can always follow you out in a week’s time.’
Hart shook his head. ‘No way. She knew what she was letting herself in for when she applied for the job. She told us she was looking for a challenge.’ He held up a slim file. ‘Her application was impeccable – she’ll be the best sales development person I’ll have with me. As it is, we’re scheduled to begin meetings with potential customers in London next week, and then we leave for the Continent.’
He turned his attention back to Finn. ‘I know what happened to you, and why that’s possibly clouding your judgement.’ Ian’s expression grew serious as he eased his feet off the desk and leaned forward. ‘From what I’ve heard, it wasn’t your fault.’
Finn shrugged, but remained silent.
Ian straightened up and checked his watch. ‘I’ve got a telephone conference in five minutes. I suggest you give them another half an hour to finish their lunch, and then start the afternoon session.’
Finn growled and stood. ‘I still say she won’t be ready.’
Ian smiled. ‘Then make sure she is.’
Halfway through the afternoon, Kate hurried over to where a tangle of gorse bushes grew to one side of the forest track and threw up the contents of her stomach. She groaned and bent down, resting her hands on her knees. The muscles in her thighs and calves burned, echoing the acid taste in her mouth.
‘Here.’
She opened her eyes and an open bottle of water was thrust at her. She glared at the man holding it, then snatched the bottle from him and tipped her head back.
‘Hey, steady – steady!’ said Finn, taking the bottle from her. ‘You drink like that, it’s all going to come straight back up. Slowly, okay?’
She nodded and held out her hand. ‘Give it back.’
She turned and staggered over to a grassy mound next to the track and collapsed onto it, sweat trickling down the back of her neck. She took another sip of the water, then closed her eyes and splashed the remaining liquid over her head.
Slicking the tendrils of her hair away from her face which had escaped her ponytail, she opened her eyes to find Finn watching her intently. ‘Now what?’
‘Don’t ever waste water like that.’
‘What?’
He pointed at the empty container. ‘It’s for drinking, not washing. You won’t know when you’ll get your next ration, so don’t waste it. You can’t afford to.’
Kate stared at him, her mouth open. A split second passed before she realised he wasn’t joking. She stood slowly, and then walked towards him, waving the bottle. ‘I’ve just finished your stupid assault course for the second time in an hour, ran two miles for the first time in five years and thrown up, and you want me to save water?’ Her voice rose with each step.
‘It’s for your own good,’ he said, folding his arms across his chest. ‘You need to be prepared. You have to…’
‘Shut up!’
He stepped back in surprise as the empty bottle struck him seconds after Kate yelled. He stared down at his chest then back at her, before striding across the open ground between them.
She swallowed hard, stunned by the anger that thundered across his face.
His breathing ragged, he reached out and seized her by the arm. ‘You’ve got to start taking this seriously,’ he said through gritted teeth.
She stared up at him, all too aware of the heat coming off his body and the feel of his skin wrapped around hers.
He let go, as if an electric shock had raced through him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, turning away. ‘That was uncalled for.’
She watched in astonishment as he walked away a few paces, and then s
tood with his back to her. She took a deep breath before walking towards him.
‘I’m sorry too,’ she began. ‘I’m not used to… to this.’ She laughed, but it came out brittle, forced. ‘The most exercise I get is a spin class once a fortnight – and that’s only if a friend has bribed me into doing it.’ She broke off as she reached him, and he turned.
‘You have no idea what you’re walking into,’ he said.
She stood her ground and hugged her arms around her stomach. ‘Tell me.’
‘It’s Eastern Europe. You’re female,’ he said, moving closer. ‘To anyone that takes you, you’re a commodity. Something to be bargained with. Used.’
She held her breath, transfixed as he drew nearer.
‘I know you think you’re a hot-shot saleswoman, but those skills aren’t going to keep you safe.’ His arm moved up, and his fingers wrapped around a strand of her hair which had sprung loose again from her ponytail. He twirled it in his fingers before tucking it behind her ear, and then let his hand fall. ‘Get out now. Walk away.’
‘I can’t. I have to go,’ she said. ‘There’s no-one else. The Business Development guy who was meant to go can’t – his wife is ill.’
‘You don’t have to do anything dammit.’
‘I don’t expect you to understand. I – I need to do this.’ Kate closed her eyes and took a calming breath to steady her voice before facing Finn again. ‘I need to prove to myself once and for all that I can stand on my own two feet.’ She sighed. ‘There are people expecting me to fail at this, saying I haven’t got the guts, and I won’t let them win.’
She frowned. ‘Anyway – why are you so concerned? What happened? Why are you so angry with me?’
He placed his hands on his hips, appeared to consider her question, and then shook his head slightly. ‘If you don’t learn anything else from this weekend, understand this,’ he said. ‘You travel nowhere without one of Ian’s security men going with you. If you fear for your life at any time – if the pressure of working in some of the countries he takes you to gets too much, you walk away. Is that understood?’