Implosion, p.11
Implosion, page 11
She stayed with her back to him and heard him sit down on the bed. With a sleight of hand from a fold in her dress, she took out a tiny phial, cracking the lid of it almost soundlessly. A few drops went into his tumbler. Kirsten filled the rest up with vodka and then filled her own glass.
She’d have him soon. He’d be out for the count. After a couple of sips, she turned, holding both tumblers, and walked over to him. But as she did so, her left leg buckled slightly.
‘Damn stilettos,’ she said. ‘I’m much more of a country girl.’
‘I think you’re much more of a martial arts girl,’ said the man, smiling. Quick to get your notoriety. Quick to be looking for a bomb. Way too quick, in fact.
Kirsten went to run forward, but her left knee buckled again. Her hand let the tumbler slip out of it, and she fell, her head hitting the soft mattress of the bed before she fell backwards onto the ground. Everything was going woozy, the world slipping away from her, but she felt him bind her arms behind her back. Her legs were also being tied together, and then she felt nothing at all.
Chapter 15
Justin Chivers sat in the car feeling a little anxious. He’d seen Kirsten disappear through the windows of the hotel, out towards the lobby, and then presumably upstairs. That was fine because it was all part of the plan, but she was going to drug him, and Mark Lamb was going to be taken away by the pair of them. Kirsten still hadn’t come down to ask for his help.
It was too long because the last thing she would’ve done on getting him alone was let it drag out. It would’ve been quick, and then she would’ve signalled, getting Justin in to help her remove Mark Lamb from the building. Justin was also edgy because he needed to pee. Well, she wouldn’t miss him for ten seconds.
He stepped out of the car and quickly disappeared into the shadows of one of the side alleys. After passing a quick ablution, he stepped back into the car park, emerging from the alley and doing what was a normal routine scan across the car park. As he did, there was no time to be surprised. There was no time to be shocked.
Across the car park, by another alley, was a man with a rocket launcher. Before he fired, Justin was already turning. By the time the rocket was racing towards his car, Justin was diving into the alleyway. When the explosion went up, Justin was in the other alleyway and was fortunate enough to be protected by the wall around a garden.
The dive had taken Justin off his feet, and he was lying on the ground when the full force of the explosion blew past him. He may have been hit by the odd piece of rubble. He wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t waiting around to find out. Instead, Justin was up on his feet as quick as he could, running as hard as he could.
His ears were ringing. He couldn’t hear his feet thumping properly on the alleyway, and that caused him to stumble and wobble as he ran. The alleyway broke out into the street of a residential area, and Justin continued to run along it. Kirsten would be in trouble, though, and Justin ran up the main street to come round and back to the entrance of the hotel.
As he reached it, he could hear sirens in the night, the alarm bell of the hotel ringing because somebody had clearly set the fire alarm off as well. As he stood a short distance away, Justin stepped into the garden of a house, slipped behind a tree, and breathed deeply.
He had charged away. Then he charged back. Everything so far had been done on the hoof and done quickly. Now he stopped.
He would take thirty seconds to think, thirty seconds to suck in the air, to make a plan, and then go at it again. Justin needed to get in. He needed to see what was up with Kirsten. What was the best way to do that?
Hotel staff, he thought. Hotel staff would still run around clearing the hotel. It was time to get himself a uniform. Justin exited from behind the tree and ran towards the hotel again, but deviated towards the rear. There was an enormous wall there, but doors were opening and people were piling out onto the street.
These doors would not have been opened when the hotel was in normal use. With the panic that was happening, people were fleeing in whatever way they could.
Justin fought against the flow. He fought his way into the rear car park of the hotel. As he entered what he thought was the kitchen at the rear of the hotel, a porter came out. Justin stuck his hand out, grabbed the man by his throat, and pushed him back inside, driving him into an open cold store.
The kitchen was clearing. Most people had left and the bulk of them wouldn’t be coming out through the kitchens. Only the staff would go this way.
Justin told the man to strip off his outer layers and changed into the outfit provided. He then yelled at the man to run out of the building, smacking his backside and the man tore off. Justin adjusted his clothing and left the kitchen.
Soon he was inside the hotel lobby with people screaming at him, hotel guests still running down from rooms up above. Where had Kirsten gone? he thought. He ran over to reception where he yelled, ‘Did they have the lists of guests?’ He was told they did, and he told them to get out. He would follow them quickly.
As soon as they turned, he looked at the check in computer screen in front of him. Justin understood computers. He understood systems, and it only took him a few moments to type in names. Frederick Jones. He must have had a room.
Floor five, room 514. He went to run for the lift, but of course, they could be shut down at any time. He bypassed the lifts and went to the emergency stairs.
‘Where are you going?’ shouted someone.
‘We’ve got a guest up top. They need evacuation. I’m taking the stairs to get them down.’
‘You’ll need two of us.’
‘It’s all right. Someone’s meeting me there. Get out, get out,’ said Justin.
He tore off, leaving the man who had spoken to him. Do everything quickly? he thought. Do it fast and do it like you mean it, and everyone will think you’ll know what you’re doing.’ It doesn’t matter how hard you train. When it’s the real thing, people panic and somebody had blown up a car. And then they set off the alarms in the hotel.
But they’ve been clever, he thought. Caught her on her own potentially, and then taken me out. They’ve got her on the move.
He hoped he wouldn’t be too late. Justin reached the fifth floor, stepped out into the corridor, and looked along for a sign to say where the room numbers were. 506 to 520, down to the right. He turned and looked down. Someone was coming out of a room in a hurry.
Justin turned and walked down, but the other person raced off. Could have been anyone, though. After all, the hotel was being evacuated. There had been an explosion outside.
Justin walked quickly down to the room that the man had come out of. It was 514. He pushed open the door, looked inside. Nothing. Nobody in here. Then he saw the tumblers on the floor. Had there been a struggle? He looked down around him. Were there any signs?
And then he saw it, so, so small. It was one of the little dosing phials they would use when wanting to drop poison or some sort of sedative into someone’s drink. You could sew it inside clothing, and it was so easy to miss.
It was on the floor, and the top of it was cracked. Kirsten had taken one. She’d been here; now she was gone. Instantly, Justin turned on his heel and started tearing down the hallway in the direction the man had left. As he reached the end of the corridor, he saw the emergency stairs. Justin turned and started sprinting down them.
After he completed four of the five flights of stairs, he saw the man in front of him about two flights down. He pursued him out of the building and watched as he got into a car. Justin watched the car drive off and realised he was on his own.
He couldn’t very well run after him. He could try the license plate. By the time he organised anyone to get after it, the man would be gone.
He followed the car out into the mesh of traffic that was trying to escape the hotel. Police cars were now coming from the other way, and Justin could walk along the street, keeping the car in sight. Eventually, it broke the cordon of police coming the other way and sped up. Justin would not keep up, but ahead of him, he saw a woman in furs getting into a car, a chauffeur on the other side.
‘Just get me out of here, James. Get me out of here and get me home. It’s been a disaster. It’s been a—’
The woman stopped as Justin put a gun in her face. ‘James, get out of the car and leave the keys in the car,’ he said. ‘Madam, step away over there and James will stand beside you.’
Justin kept the gun trained on the woman. As he spun around the car, a police car raced down the street, but Justin held the gun in close.
‘Don’t go for it or I will shoot,’ he said. ‘James, get this good woman home in a taxi somehow. Apologies for your car, but I need it.’ With that, Justin stepped inside the car, turned the ignition on with the keys, and drove off.
One of the good things about holding up somebody rich is that their car is of a good quality. This was a BMW, and it certainly could move. It didn’t take long for Justin to find the car he was tailing further along the street. He settled back in his seat, wondering if Kirsten was inside that car in front.
He drove out of Inverness, first a little down the A9 and then broke off at Carrbridge, heading out onto smaller roads. Justin realised at any moment they could arrive at the destination. If they did, it could be more than whoever was in the car to deal with.
Was Kirsten alive or was Kirsten dead? Was she even in the car? He couldn’t very well attack everyone once they arrived. He was one man on his own and, yes, he was Justin Chivers. Justin knew how to deal with people but not really large numbers, especially if any of them were experienced.
Justin closed up on the car and then, when he found a straight piece of road, he indicated, pulled past, and drove out of sight. As soon as he was clear, he stopped the car, put the hazard lights on, but left the car sitting across the road so it would be difficult to get past. He stepped out and started smacking the bonnet of the car.
The car he had been tailing came around the bend and halted. One man got out. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘Fuel. Out of bloody fuel,’ said Justin. ‘Can you believe that? Can I get a siphon, or can you drop me down the road?’
‘No,’ said the man.
‘Well, I’m stuck here. Come on. This time of night, the least you can do is get me down to a petrol station and back.’
‘Move the car,’ said the man. ‘You need to move the car. We need to get past.’
‘All I want is a petrol station,’ said Justin. ‘Can you imagine being out here? The wife will go spare. I’m meant to pick her up.’
‘Where’s your keys? I’ll move the damn car,’ said the man.
The driver of the other car now was getting out, something Justin had hoped for. While he was inside and behind the wheel, he could always tear away, and it’d be difficult for Justin to get at him; but not here. Not now.
‘We don’t want any trouble,’ said the driver, ‘but you need to move that car now. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll move it. You’ll not argue; you’ll just get on with it.’
‘How am I meant to move it when it’s run out of fuel?’ asked Justin.
‘We’ll move it for you,’ said the man. He stepped past Justin, opened the passenger door, and reached inside for the handbrake. The passenger of the other car came up as well. As he got closer, Justin grabbed him, pulling him in, and drove a knee up into his mid-rift. He then hit him on the back of the neck with a chop.
The other man heard the grunt and turned, pulling a gun out from his jacket. Justin was already at the door, closing it hard, and the man was caught between the door and the car.
Justin slammed the door against him four times before pulling him down and spotting the weapon still inside the jacket. He reached in, grabbed it, threw it away into the undergrowth, and then drew his own weapon.
‘Both of you, on your knees. Do not move.’
Still groaning, the two men got on their knees, while Justin pointed the gun at them. He reached inside his jacket and took out the little glass phial that Kirsten had used previously back in Mark Lamb’s room. He held the gun up to the head of one man, placed the phial inside the man’s lips, and rubbed it back and forward. There wouldn’t be much there, but the man would get a sensation of something.
‘How well do you like Mark Lamb?’ asked Justin. ‘I’ve just poisoned you. You’re going to tell me where he is. You’re going to tell me his hideout, and you’re going to tell me it quick because you need the antidote. If not, you’ll be dead. I give you about two minutes.’
The man stared at Justin. The guy behind him said nothing. ‘Just in case your mate thinks he’s getting off scot-free, if you don’t give the answer, he’s getting the same treatment in a moment.’
The man looked at him, clearly afraid. Mark Lamb had some influence over these people, but Justin always thought your own life was worth something. Mark Lamb was a man who worked for money, so those that worked for him probably did too. He wasn’t an idealist. Lamb wasn’t running a cult. He was a bomber. He worked for money.
‘One minute,’ said Justin. ‘Anytime now, you’ll feel it. Of course, sometimes it works early, sometimes you get the dose wrong. It just—I don’t know. It goes through the bloodstream. The science guys know all about it. They’ll tell you how it works. You’ll just feel it. Heard that’s the worst of it, though.’
‘This road. This road,’ said the man suddenly, his breathing becoming erratic. Justin was stunned. He was producing effects even though the drug was nothing but a knockout drug, the dose of which wouldn’t be enough to knock the man out.
‘You’ll need to keep going. It’s a farmhouse further up. Cheshire farm. That’s where he hangs out. Give me the antidote. Give me the antidote.’
‘Cheshire Farm,’ said Justin. ‘People have lied to me before, and I only have one set of drugs.’
‘It’s bloody Cheshire Farm. Give me it. Give me it now. The antidote!’
‘Thank you very much for your cooperation,’ said Justin. ‘There was nothing in that vial. Nothing at all.’
He took the butt of his gun and hit the man hard behind the head and then the other one as well, sending them both senseless to the floor of the road. He took out his phone, and dialled a number.
‘Godfrey,’ said Justin, ‘I’ve got two men lying on the road out towards Carrbridge, coming out of Inverness. They’ve got Kirsten in Cheshire Farm farmhouse. I’m on my way to deal with it. I need you to come and collect two men on the road here, lest they get back and interrupt me. They’re out cold. Don’t know how long for. I’ll tie them up with something. Push the car to one side. I don’t know how I’ll find her, though,’ said Justin. ‘Mark Lamb seemed to know we were coming. Unsure whether that was our bad execution or someone else.’
‘Understood,’ said Godfrey, and the call was closed.
Justin searched the other car, finding rope, and tied the two men up. The road was quiet enough, but it was five minutes after he tied them up and pushed the car off the road that the first of the cars pulled past. He got back into the BMW, however, and drove off. Godfrey had said nothing, and Justin wondered if he even trusted him. Did he think he’d killed Kirsten?
The trouble when everything went wrong with a spy organisation, Justin thought, is that from thinking you know who to trust, you suddenly don’t know who to trust at all. You see the intentions of everyone, or what you think are the worst intentions. He trusted Kirsten, though, and Kirsten trusted him. It was time to see if she was still alive.
Chapter 16
There was darkness all around, but the floor kept bouncing. Every now and again, she felt pushed to one side and then back to the other. She was disorientated, wondering just where exactly she was. If only there’d been a chink of light. If only there’d been some way to—Ow, she thought, as her head smacked off something.
She’d rolled over onto her hands, which seemed to be bound behind her. Lying on them, she felt pain. She tried to push from her feet, but they were tied too. She couldn’t yell because of the gag in her mouth, but her eyes were open. They just couldn’t see anything.
She’d been stupid. Taking a drink without fully watching what he’d been doing. No, she hadn’t been. She had fully watched him. He didn’t have that great a sleight of hand; therefore, he’d known before. He’d known, and he played her all the way, letting her think it was her body that had enticed him up to that room. She laid a honey trap and he must’ve seen it coming. Now where was she?
She suddenly rolled again, a very short distance and her body hit off whatever wall was here. No, it wasn’t walls, she thought, her hands feeling the surrounding surfaces. Slightly furry, but firm. She was in the boot of a car. Kirsten realised that’s why she kept rolling. That’s why she felt the G-force when a car took a corner quickly. That’s why there was the odd bump now and then. Was why she couldn’t see.
No lights, nothing’s to do until they arrived somewhere. Kirsten could try to work out the turns, the twists. She could lay there and listen for any sound that would give away where she was. Yet, there was nothing outside, nothing unique, and she didn’t have a starting point, so the turns and twists were irrelevant.
She settled back, thinking about what to do. She was stuck, tied up. Could she free the bonds that held her? No, she couldn’t. She had tried, but she couldn’t. She would have to just sit and wait.
Inside, Kirsten felt sick. They’d captured her. She knew what they would do.
Eventually, the car stopped after going down what felt like a stony path. She heard car doors open and shut and then the boot opened. Her eyes looked up into the dim light. A pair of hands came down, pulled her out of the car, and another pair of hands wrapped themselves around her. She was taken through the door of a farmhouse, white.
In the distance, she thought she could hear the sea, but then she was taken to a room and unceremoniously thrown into the corner. The floor came up quickly. Kirsten cursed as it hit her. The men disappeared out of the room and she could hear voices outside before the two men came back inside with her.
