Part 19 (1/2)

Tiff huddled close to him. He had never seen her so scared. The vehicle was so familiar; they had been in it most days for the past few weeks. Now a man sat beside him, watching them with a gun. It felt like their home had been invaded.

The bald man nudged Hex with the gun. Hex turned to look at him. He was holding out his hand. On it were four white pills.

'Take two and give the other two to her.'

The gun barrel reminded Hex that he had no choice. He picked up the pills. Tiff looked at him with fearful eyes.

'What are they?' Hex asked.

'Special K,' said the driver.

Special K. Ket. Vitamin K. Ketamine. Veterinary anaesthetic.

The bald man's eyes narrowed. He twitched the end of his gun. 'Go on. It'll hurt less.'

Hex felt Tiff's fingernails curl into his arm.

29.

PURSUIT.

A hooded figure got up from the narrow window seat in the morning room. Amber had covered her dirty tweeds with a floor-length velvet cape from the restaurant cloakroom. With her black skin it had made her invisible to anyone who glanced into the darkened window.

She had seen everything in the yard. She saw Tiff throw the brick through the window. She saw her yelling at Hex. She saw the big man seize her. She saw brave Hex explode out of the storeroom and tackle the other man. He was fast; he could have got away. But they would have killed Tiff.

She watched them drive away.

Amber had been in hiding ever since she made the call to Hex's phone and the menacing voice had answered. Now she went back to their suite. It was a mess: the chaises longues, the ornate desk had been tipped over; a lamp lay smashed on the floor. She lifted the receiver of the phone and dialled.

'h.e.l.lo, Alex?'

Li lay in the hospital bed, an oxygen mask over her face. She knew Paulo was in a room somewhere near, having tests, but the last she had seen was when the medics got them into the helicopter. Medics had put oxygen masks on her and Alex, and crowded around Paulo. She could only see their backs, watch their urgent movements, see stethoscopes, tubes, needles and bloodstained pads. Their mouths were moving but the whine of the heli drowned out their words. The mask felt like it was suffocating her. She pulled it off and a police officer gently replaced it again. In the moment before it enclosed her nose and mouth she caught a faint smell. Charred flesh.

When they had touched down at the hospital, a team of medics swooped on each of them and swept her away to examine her. She wasn't able to see either Paulo or Alex.

The doctors had done co-ordination tests on her and said she had some neurological damage from inhaling carbon monoxide. She kept taking off her oxygen mask and demanding to know about her friends. They were being taken care of, she was told, and the mask would be gently replaced. But Paulo was shot, she had said. He's being taken care of, she was told and the mask was patiently replaced again.

After a few hours of rest and concentrated oxygen therapy she should be all right, they said. But staying calm and quiet was driving Li mad.

She was in a small ward. Her agitated brain had taken in every inch of the room: the tiny floral pattern on the curtained screens, presumably to make them look more homely than clinical; the clock radio glowing on the bedside table; the dim light in the corridor. If she wasn't attached to this oxygen tank, she'd be wandering around the corridors, looking for the others.

Someone came in. She recognized Alex's step before he pulled back the curtain. She sat bolt upright and pulled her mask off. 'They've let you out! Why aren't you on one of these?'

He sat on the bed. 'I think I was lucky. There's more of me, I suppose.' He still had smears of mud all over his face and clothes, like camouflage cream.

'How's Paulo?'

'They're still doing tests.' He took Hex's palmtop out of his pocket. 'Amber called. There were two other guys working with the drug guys. They've got Hex.' He showed her the palmtop screen. On it was Hex's tracer, moving into the hills.

Li swallowed. 'Oh my G.o.d.'

Alex put the palmtop back in his pocket and got up. 'Is your phone still working?'

'Yes.'

Alex was moving backwards, heading for the door. 'Keep it on standby in case I need to contact you. I've told the police and given them the registration of our old Range Rover. Amber said that's what they're using. I'll see you later.'

Li reached down and hooked her phone out of the bedside cabinet. Its screen glowed as she switched it on. 'Are you sure you should go? The police have loads of guys out.'

But Alex knew it was a rhetorical question. When one of your friends is in enemy hands, you need as many rescuers as possible, to cover all the angles. You don't leave it to someone else while you've got breath in your body.

'I wish I could come with you,' said Li.

He waved and disappeared.

Paulo was lying on a treatment table. Two men in white coats stood with their backs to him examining a set of x-rays. He could see the glowing monochrome shadows of his bones but they gave nothing away.

At first it hadn't hurt; perhaps because he hadn't fully realized what had happened. He'd even carried on crawling, which surprised him. He thought that if you'd been shot, you'd be knocked over, like you would if you'd been hit by a car. He even had time to think about it a bit. Of course, it made sense. If the force of the bullet was enough to knock him over, it would also knock over the person who fired the gun.

That was the last coherent thought he had.

The doctors had given him morphine, but the pain was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He'd had injuries before. If you handled big, strong animals all the time you got used to being knocked about. But sprains and broken bones were nothing compared with this. It was a sickening pain, searing through his shoulder like a red-hot lance. He imagined the track of the bullet, the flesh it had torn through. He could smell his own flesh charring. It was truly brutal, like burning off a part of your body.

'I can't see a bullet in there,' said one doctor.

'Let's see what the arteriogram says,' said the other. He turned to Paulo. 'Good news, it looks like it's gone right through.'

Paulo's stomach turned. He never thought he would be so upset by a wound. Maybe the morphine would kick in soon.

Alex left the hospital. The police had wasted no time in setting off. The helicopter was lifting into the sky, lights winking as it swooped over his head. Sirens were sounding and tyres were scrambling on gravel as unmarked Land Rovers headed for the hills. Glaickvullin community hospital had probably never seen so much action.

On the moor behind the hospital, a pair of headlights was joggling over the b.u.mpy ground. They came down into the floodlit hospital car park. A quad bike, a slender black figure at the handlebars.

Amber braked and slid to a stop beside Alex. 'You look rough.' She spoke briskly.

Alex climbed on. 'Where did you get this?'

'It's still ours technically. I reclaimed it and hotwired it again. Where's Hex?'

Alex showed her the palmtop.

Amber glanced at it, then turned to face forwards again. 'Right. Hold on tight.'

30.