Part 18 (2/2)

I heard nothing. Total silence. The Dutch must have gone out via the gate or jumped the fence. Keeping in the shadows, I used my three-light marker to navigate back to the gap. Someone else had been through here since I last had. Someone in bare feet. I could see the mark of my boots in the mud, and also the imprint of small, frantic toes.

I slipped through and kept to the edge of the road, almost hugging the fence. The search party would be moving up and down Distelweg by now, checking every bit of cover, flapping more and more as the minutes ticked by.

I came level with the Panda and felt around in the scrub for the keys. Once inside I powered down the window and had one last listen before I fired up the engine.

Lights extinguished, I moved off slowly, following the road on the bay side of the dock. It started to rain again.

There was a ma.s.sive thump on the front of the car. I braked hard.

A face flew up out of nowhere and banged against the windscreen. For a split second, all I could see was a ma.s.s of wet blonde hair and a pair of big scared eyes.

I threw the engine out of gear. f.u.c.k the handbrake. I jumped out to grab her.

By the time I got round to the front of the car the girl was already scrabbling along the tarmac. There was blood on her face. Her jeans were soaked. Her feet were bare.

'Lilian?'

She was swallowed up by the shadows as quickly as she'd appeared.

I stopped and listened.

Nothing.

I jumped back into the Panda. There was a streak of blood on the windscreen. If it was Lillian, I had to get to her before those f.u.c.kers did.

I moved off, nice and slow, windows down.

13

I drove across the ca.n.a.l and into the prefab estate. A left took me back towards the Distelweg bridge. I parked up about a hundred metres further on and tucked Brad's mallet into the waistband of my jeans. I'd move back onto the target on foot and start searching again from there. I didn't want to take the car through the area twice that night. It was bad drills. b.i.t.c.h t.i.ts and his mates might still be out there.

The shop lights splashed across the wet pavements. I was hungry and thirsty, and it was going to be a long night. I went into a mini-mart and bought crisps, pitta bread and a bottle of water. I managed the whole transaction without a single word to the guy behind the counter. I just grunted and paid.

I jammed the crisps into the bread as I walked past a line of graffiti-covered boathouses. I kept close to the walls and fences of the industrial units, ready to dodge oncoming headlights. I threw the last of the crisp sandwich down my neck as I approached the tile warehouse.

I heard a cry.

Then male laughter, followed by grunts and curses, monosyllabic and aggressive.

I took a couple of steps.

And heard it again.

There was a blur of movement from beneath the canopy. The girl ran from the shadows, naked and sobbing. Two guys appeared behind her. Too fast, too powerful. They grabbed her and dragged her back into the darkness.

It wasn't hard to work out what they were doing to her. I just needed to know how many of them were doing it.

Another cry. Part pain, part despair.

It looked like b.i.t.c.h t.i.ts was the only one allowed to sample the merchandise on site, and this lot fancied a taster before they dragged her back to him.

14

Rhythmic sobs continued to come from under the canopy. I inched forward, fingers closing around the handle of the mallet.

I heard more grunts and A couple of slaps. There was a m.u.f.fled, anguished scream followed by a chorus of laughter. The air was heavy with cannabis.

There were four of them, all fully paid-up members of the neo-n.a.z.i club. Crew-cuts, tattoos and plenty of face metal were the order of the day. The girl was on her knees. Three of them stood around her with their jeans halfway down their thighs. A fourth lounged against the door with a stupid grin on his face, smoking a joint. It was either his turn to chill, or he preferred to watch.

The girl's bloodstained face was rounder and younger than the image I had of Lilian. Much younger. She took a couple more slaps to the head to make her work harder.

A million years of training told me there was nothing I could do. I couldn't intervene. Bad things happen. This s.h.i.+t went on a million times a day, all over the world. I was here for a job. I wasn't the UN. I needed to let this run its course. Four guys here raping this girl meant four fewer guarding Lilian. I needed to stop f.u.c.king around and get back to the silo.

But there was another voice in my head. Anna's voice. What about this girl? What about her parents, her sisters, her brothers? How would you feel if this was happening to someone you cared for, if this was happening to me? What about her parents, her sisters, her brothers? How would you feel if this was happening to someone you cared for, if this was happening to me?

I looked round for something heavier than the mallet. A bit of scaffolding would have come in handy. A wheel-brace, maybe ...

Then I checked myself. What family? Every sc.r.a.p of experience and years of f.u.c.king up screamed at me: I had to let this one go.

I turned and headed back the way I'd come. I'd have to pull my finger out if I wanted to get this job done by first light.

When I'd covered about twenty metres I straightened up and shoved the mallet back into the waistband of my jeans.

Another heartbreaking scream pierced the darkness.

f.u.c.k it.

I pulled the mallet out again and turned back.

I was in auto mode, en route to a possible nightmare. I'd need to be quick and hard - just take them down and run. After that, the girl would have to sort her own s.h.i.+t out.

I got within a few metres of them. She was still on her knees. The one in front of her looked up just in time to see me jump into the air and bring the mallet down hard a couple of inches above his eyebrows. He didn't say a word. He couldn't. All I heard was a loud pop as the toughened rubber worked its kinetic s.h.i.+t and he crumpled to the floor.

I spun round, swung back my arm and zoned in on the guy to my right. He got the good news just above the temple. He groaned and collapsed onto the girl.

She whimpered and tried to kick him off.

I turned to the other two. The one with the spliff was still some distance from Planet Earth, and instead of rus.h.i.+ng me, the other stupid f.u.c.ker was pulling up his jeans. I barged against him. He staggered back under the canopy, arms windmilling, and crashed into his mate.

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