Terror's Reach (34 page)

Fifty-Six

Priya stopped when she heard shooting from the direction of the games
room. She hid her face away from Liam, so he wouldn’t see what she
was thinking.
Am I too late?
Liam stood beside her, waiting for instructions. From the moment
Priya had cut him free there had been no question that she was in
charge. Even now, with a gun in his hand, she doubted that he had
the nerve to challenge her authority.
She wasn’t entirely comfortable that he carried a weapon, but it
gave her some useful support, at least for the time being. If nothing
else she could use him as a decoy.
Admittedly it had been quick thinking on his part to frisk the man
she’d killed. And finding a handgun with a silencer meant he’d been
able to shoot the second guard without alerting Felton.
But it had been a messy kill. After dragging the first man out of
sight beyond the bed, Priya had hidden in the entrance to the dressing
room while Liam had resumed his position on the floor, apparently
still handcuffed.
The second guard had entered the room, assumed that Liam posed
no threat, and turned to search for his colleague. Liam had pulled
the gun and fired. The first bullet only winged the man’s shoulder, the
second missed altogether, and the third got him in the stomach as

he dived for cover and would have been fatal if not for his body
armour.
The guard hit the floor with enough presence of mind to bring his
own weapon up and level it at Liam. Before he could get off a shot,
Priya leapt out and stabbed him in the neck.

'How many more?’ she’d asked.
Liam had taken longer to recover, his hand trembling as he stared
at the body. 'S-sorry, I fucked that up . . .’
'How many?’
'Um, only one more of these fellers, I think. Plus Yuri, and Felton.’
'What are they doing in the gym?’
Liam gave her a garbled explanation about some sort of duel between
Joe and Yuri, with Valentin standing to win a gold bar if his man
triumphed.
'Not that he’s got a hope. But the bloody gold in there, Priya.’ Liam’s
face lit up as he realised they now stood a chance of reconstituting
the original plan. 'Wait till you see it. Makes all this worthwhile, and
then some.’
Before leaving the room Priya had exchanged the magazine in her
MP5 for a fresh one taken from one of the dead guards. Wisely, in
her opinion, Liam had chosen to stick with the handgun.
Now she considered how best to use the firepower at her disposal.
The decision made, she jabbed a finger at the stairs.
You go down, through the gym. I’ll go this way. Whoever gets a
clear sight on the guard takes him out, all right?’

For about a minute after Priya’s departure there was an uneasy silence
in the garage. Nobody moved. Nobody could be sure it was safe.
Then Terry grinned boyishly at Angela. 'Well, I guess we can sit
around like lemons and wait for whichever bunch of bastards wants
to kill us next. Or we can try to get out of here.’
Angela nodded, and managed to summon a smile of her own. 'My
thoughts exactly. First we need to find a knife. Something sharp, at least.’
Because she was the only one who’d been cuffed with her hands
in front of her, it made sense for Angela to carry out the search. Terry
objected to this, on the basis that whoever did it faced the risk of
punishment if Priya should return.
Angela put him right. 'Terry, if that damn woman comes back I
suspect we’ll all be in big trouble.’
She made straight for the body of the guard that Priya had
killed. The restraints on her ankles meant that she had to move in
a kind of ungainly shuffling crawl. It was a slow and demanding
task, made worse by the sheer quantity of blood on the garage floor.
The smell repulsed her, as did the warm, sticky feel of it on her
hands.
Then, when she reached the guard’s body, she had to search his
clothes and feel inside his pockets. It was an appallingly intimate act:
a desecration, almost. A couple of times she retched and had to stop
and look away, breathing slowly through her mouth until the nausea
receded. She had to disassociate herself from the reality of what she
was doing, and concentrate on what was at stake.
The first stage of that objective was to find a knife, and she did. A
thin-bladed dagger in a leather sheath. She cut her ankles free, stood
up and nearly fainted as the blood rushed from her head.
Feeling ridiculous, but cheered on by the encouragement of the
other prisoners, Angela tottered back to the group, brandishing the
knife like a prize, praying that someone wouldn’t march in with a gun
at the very moment when escape seemed like something more than
an absurd fantasy.

The guard checked that Yuri was dead, then stepped back from the
balustrade. Joe experienced a mixture of confusion and relief. He was
still alive – but for how long?
Felton barely glanced at the body. He turned to Valentin, briskly
moving to the next item on his agenda.
'Congratulations. I must confess, I hadn’t expected Joe to perform so

well. That could present us with a problem.’ He gave a brief, mirthless
chuckle. 'Perhaps I’ll have to make him an offer he can’t refuse.’
You’re welcome to him.’
Felton looked at Joe and tutted, as if to say: How’s that for loyalty?
'Very well,’ he told Valentin. 'We’ll fetch your gold just as soon as
we conclude the terms of the main deal. What do you say?’
'I have no choice,’ said Valentin, with a touch of petulance. 'But I
don’t see how you can make this work.’
'It’s perfectly straightforward. Liam and Priya arranged a robbery.
You were an innocent victim, the same as everyone else on this island.
I was in the South of France, but thankfully some of my security team
were here, guarding the house. They were captured at first, but after
several hours they managed to escape. A fierce battle ensued, in which
most of the gang were killed.’
'Most?’
'I think we have to spare Liam. Maybe Priya, too, if she’s willing
to play along.’
And my family?’
You’ll tell the police they’re in Brighton, just as you planned to
do. They’re no part of this.’
'But you still keep them?’
'Until everything’s signed and sealed.’
Valentin nodded, but he looked disgusted. Not surprisingly, Joe
thought. Felton had every detail nailed down.
'Very well,’ said Valentin at last.
'Excellent.’ Felton clapped his hands together. He wore a look of
intense satisfaction that lasted only until he caught the guard’s eye.
'Has Briggs reported in yet?’
The guard shook his head. Spoke into his mouthpiece and then
coughed. A fine mist of blood blew from the side of his neck.
Joe saw his chance and ran for the door at the back of the squash
court. He wrenched it open, then froze.
'Nice try,’ said Liam. He was standing just inside the gymnasium,
holding the silenced pistol that had killed the guard. Up in the gallery,
Priya had an MP5 trained on Felton. Her boiler suit was caked in
blood: she looked like she’d just crawled out of an abattoir.
It was the first time Joe had seen her without her mask. He was
shocked by the contrast between the startling perfection of her face
and the cold, jaded look in her eyes.
Liam stood on tiptoe and peered through the glass at the body on
the squash court. 'Jesus. I’d have put a grand on Yuri winning that
one.’
'I got lucky,’ said Joe.
You sure did,’ Liam agreed. 'Until now.’

Fifty-Seven

While Priya cut Valentin free, Joe slowly backed across the squash
court. Liam followed, walking up to the glass wall, where he was in
full sight of the people on the floor above. That was when Felton
spotted him and groaned, as if he’d just been thinking it couldn’t get
any worse, and then it had.
But there was another side to Felton’s character, Joe realised. The
reckless gambler. The supremely arrogant businessman, buoyed by
years of success and accustomed to flattery and deference on every
continent. That side was evident when Felton asked, scornfully, 'What
happened to my team?’
'They’re dead,’ said Priya.
You’re kidding me. Who did it?’
'Who do you think?’
'Good grief.’ Felton looked Priya in the eye and jeered. A skinny
little runt like you?’
It seemed like a deliberate taunt, designed to provoke a reaction. For
that reason, perhaps, Priya responded with nothing more than a warning
look. It was Valentin who lost his temper, swinging a well-telegraphed
punch at the other man’s jaw. Felton easily dodged the blow, stuck out
his foot and sent Valentin to the floor in a clumsy sprawl.
Liam’s spluttered laugh earned a rebuke from Priya. No one spoke
while Valentin climbed slowly to his feet, burning with humiliation.
Felton shook his head as if disappointed to face an adversary of
such poor quality. 'Oh, Priya,’ he said in commiseration, 'I suppose
you think this gives you the upper hand?’
To Joe’s eye, it seemed there was almost a glint of admiration in
Priya’s smile. 'Doesn’t it?’ she asked.
'Not really. I think my proposal is by far the best option.’ He pointed
at Valentin, as if expecting him to concur. You see, unless we play it
my way an innocent woman and two young children will die a slow,
lingering death.’
Priya was spectacularly unimpressed. 'Maybe. But you’re still going
to open that room full of gold.’
She was a far better poker player than Valentin, who turned on her.
You don’t get to—’
Priya shushed him, reaching out and patting him gently on the
arm. It was an oddly affectionate gesture, and Joe wasn’t the only one
to take note of it.
For the first time since Priya had walked in, Felton looked taken
aback. 'Something you’re not telling me?’ he asked Valentin.
'We want the gold,’ Priya said. 'In return, we’ll spare your life.’
Young lady, you don’t understand. Cassie and the children are
alone, locked in a room at a location known only to me. No one else
is going to find them. Now, I’m prepared to be reasonable and revise
our earlier deal. But if you want to see them again you’ll have to
accept my terms.’
Valentin looked undecided, while Priya suddenly frowned, looking
around the room. She turned to Liam.
'Where’s Oliver?’

The mention of his name made Oliver jump, and nearly gave him
away.
He’d come downstairs and hidden in the hallway just outside the
gym. The danger only added to the excitement. He was in his element:
spying on others while remaining unobserved.
His view of the gallery was limited, but if he concentrated hard he
could hear almost every word. The acoustics of the gym helped: all
those hard shiny surfaces reflected the sound of voices.
Now Priya was demanding to know where he was. He felt a stab
of pride that she cared enough to ask, followed by a vague resentment
that it had taken her until now to register his absence.
It was Liam who supplied the answer. 'He’s locked in his bedroom.
Daddy didn’t want him around while he discussed business.’
'Where’s the key?’ Priya demanded.
'Probably in the lock,’ said Robert Felton. He seemed absurdly
confident, given the circumstances.
'Will you fetch him?’ Priya asked. Now her tone was strikingly
different: warm, feminine, sensual. Intrigued, Oliver crept nearer to
the doorway and discovered that she’d been talking to Valentin

Nasenko.
Before leaving the room, Valentin leaned close and brushed his
lips against her cheek while trailing his hand across her belly and hip.
It was a crude display of possession and, judging by Priya’s expression,
not exactly something she relished. But she didn’t fight him off, either.
Oliver felt something vital curl up and die deep inside him.
With Valentin gone, Priya turned back to Robert Felton. 'Now we
have an obvious transaction. You give us the gold and the girl, and
you and Oliver will be spared.’
'Just the girl?’ his father repeated. Oliver barely heard him over the
sudden loud buzzing in his brain. 'What about the others?’
'Cassie and the boy? I don’t care about them. Neither does Valentin.
We only want his daughter. Either you release her, or Oliver dies.
And I guarantee I’ll hurt him in ways you’ve never dreamed of, and
I’ll make you watch.’
The static filling Oliver’s head was almost unbearable, like a radio
caught between stations, blasting out at full volume. He had to shut
his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them, his father was still staring at Priya, his eyes
narrowed as if conducting a professional evaluation, trying to assess
exactly what manner of creature he was dealing with.
Frankly, Oliver couldn’t see why there wasn’t instant recognition.
If you went on character alone, his father might as well be looking
in a mirror.
'Interesting,’ said Felton. 'But I’m afraid your threats don’t work.
You can do what you like with Oliver.’
'Bullshit!’ It was Liam who reacted. 'What do you take us for?’
'I assure you, Liam, my son is a source of constant regret. A dysfunctional
parasite. A waste of oxygen.’ He gave them a complacent smile.
'In all honesty, you’d be doing me a favour.’
You think you could stand by and watch your own son tortured to
death?’ Liam again.
'I’m not claiming that I’d take any pleasure in witnessing it, of
course not. But I’d get over it. I have a remarkably strong constitution,
you see.’
Oliver wanted to scream. He wanted to throw himself into the room
and do battle with his father one last time.
But he didn’t. Somehow he not only controlled himself, but even
summoned the presence of mind to consider whether his father was
bluffing. Felton senior could have reasoned that the best way to save
Oliver was to profess no concern for his survival.
On the other hand, Robert Felton was also a ruthless sociopath,
and every one of his insults bore the ring of truth. In fact, most of
them had been said before – to Oliver’s face.
A room full of gold versus a dysfunctional parasite? There was really
no competition.
Oliver knew he couldn’t listen any more. As his gaze fell away he
realised he wasn’t as well hidden as he’d thought. Valentin’s bodyguard,
Joe, was standing inside the squash court, staring straight at him.
They made eye contact for a second. Oliver was grateful that Joe’s
expression never wavered, because Liam would surely have noticed
if it had.
But that moment of silent communication was enough. Oliver
hurried away, believing he knew what Joe wanted him to do.