The Hunter's Prayer (3 page)

‘We should call him now.’

‘I tried. There was no answer.’

‘So we keep trying until we wake them up.’

‘What good would that do? We’ll try again in the morning.’

‘And what if they’re in danger too?’ He wanted to tell her what he was really thinking, what his gut had told him the second time Hatto had failed to pick up the phone, but he knew this time to keep his mouth shut. If he was right, then he was only putting off the inevitable. But hopefully, by the time the devastation hit he’d have already passed her into the comforting hands of an embassy or consulate.

‘Your dad hired me to watch you. You really think he needs advice on security?’ He smiled, an attempt to show her there was nothing to worry about. ‘Now I need you to stay calm. I don’t know if we’re out of the woods yet and Chris is losing it. I need you to be cool, even if you don’t feel it.’

She nodded and said, ‘You think he’s okay?’

She was talking about Chris, and there it was all over her face, how much she was in love with him. The truth was, Lucas didn’t really care whether Chris was okay or not, only that he didn’t blow their cover. He was pretty certain, too, that someone who did this kind of thing professionally wouldn’t have let him walk out that door.

‘It’s a safe city; he needed some air. Maybe it’ll help him pull himself together.’

‘You know, he isn’t usually like this; he’s a really great person.’

‘I know.’ He didn’t bother reminding her that he’d been watching them for almost a week and had a good idea what both of them were like, in their own world if not in this rewritten one. ‘And anyway, what does it matter what I think of either of you?’

She nodded a little. It didn’t matter what he thought; he was nobody, a man cut off from life, even cut off from the life that had been his own, brought in again only by this favor he’d not been obliged to grant. And he wished he hadn’t granted it but he’d still see it through, get her to safety, even back to Hatto if he was still alive.

‘You should try to sleep,’ he said. She looked hopefully at the door before shuffling back up the bed and releasing her grip on the duvet. A few seconds later she turned on her side, away from him. He had the feeling she was still awake, waiting for Chris, but after a short while he opened his book again, immersing himself in its distant armor-clad battles.

He was sitting there with the finished book on his lap when he heard the door at the end of the corridor open and close, and then clumsy footsteps. Ella lifted her head up off the pillow before Chris reached the door. The knock came and the stumbling, self-correcting words, ‘It’s Chri . . . It’s Craig here.’ Lucas opened the door and let him in.

As Lucas locked the door, he heard Ella say, ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Okay. What about you?’

‘I was worried about you.’

‘Sorry.’ He turned to face Lucas and said, ‘I had a few beers.’

It was something he didn’t need to tell either of them but Lucas said, ‘It’s okay. Get some sleep.’

‘I need a piss first.’ He walked heavily into the bathroom and Lucas exchanged a smile with Ella.

At least with the few beers Chris might sleep now, and if he slept, he’d be more likely to deal with whatever came tomorrow. Ella was different; even with what had happened earlier, he was confident enough she’d cope with whatever came her way. She had that look about her, of someone who didn’t know the beginnings of how tough she could be.

Chris came out of the bathroom, made an attempt to remove some of his clothes and crashed onto the bed. Ella smoothed his hair and responded in kind to his sloppy embrace. They became almost instantly still and quiet so Lucas turned off the light and sat back in his chair, staring out across the dark room.

He tried to think back to the book but the feeling had already gone. Instead, he could think only of the job at hand. In theory, the most difficult part was already behind him: he’d kept her alive, unharmed. In the morning he’d set about getting her to safety.

If Mark Hatto picked up the phone in the morning it wouldn’t be a problem, just a question of logistics. But if Hatto was dead, then the guys sent after Ella had been part of something much bigger, a hit complex and organized enough to leave Lucas out of his depth, particularly after a couple of years in retirement.

Nobody would be scared of him anymore, or of his reputation. Some of these young punks probably didn’t know he’d ever existed. She didn’t know it as she lay there sleeping, but probably the best thing Ella had going for her at the moment was the fact that no one considered him a threat anymore, that no one considered him much at all.

Chapter Four

H
e’d waited a couple of minutes since the first call but again, it ran onto the answering machine. He looked at his watch but it didn’t matter what the time was here, there or anywhere else. No one was answering the phone in the Hatto house and Lucas didn’t want to know why because he didn’t want to have to tell her. He wanted someone else to break the news.

He walked back to the car. The sun was fierce so he kept to the side of the street still in shadow and pressed through the tourists. He took the car back and bought tickets for the ten o’clock train. If he was handing them over, the consulate in Zurich was as good a place as any. And if it got messier, then at least he’d be playing on his home turf.

He started back to the hotel, stopping on the way to buy a duffel bag and a large backpack and toiletries. A part of him was thinking that he was going to too much trouble, that he’d be better off sending them to the police here in Florence.

And if Hatto was dead he wouldn’t even get the rest of the money. Here he was, though, determined to get her back alive, and he knew it was nothing to do with compassion, just a perverse professional pride, like a lawyer determined to win every case, no matter who the defendant was.

Lucas had the key but when he got back he could hear them talking so he knocked. ‘It’s Dad here.’ Chris opened the door. They were both dressed but looked full of sleep, unkempt. Neither of them had gone for the gun this time.

He threw the things on the bed and said, ‘Toothbrushes and stuff. Freshen up; we’re going out.’

‘Where?’

‘There’s a department store nearby. We’ll buy you both some clothes to put in these bags. Then we’re getting a train out of here.’

Ella looked troubled, confused, as she said, ‘I don’t get it. I thought you were gonna call Dad today and we’d get a plane home.’

Lucas looked at his watch, a feint, luring her away from the truth she might see buried in his eyes.

‘I’ll call him from Milan when we’re changing trains. I want to get away from here.’

Chris seemed edgy now and said, ‘So where are you taking us?’

‘Switzerland.’ He handed Ella the bag of toiletries and said, ‘And remember, when we’re out, call me Dad.’

Ella smiled in response and said, ‘You know, you don’t actually look old enough to be our father.’

‘So don’t call me anything. Just don’t call me Lucas, not in front of other people.’ Her smile dropped and he realized too late that she’d paid him a compliment, that she’d tried to be nice to him and that it might have been more appropriate to thank her, maybe say something nice in return.

Their mood lightened when they got to the department store, joking with each other as they shopped. And when Lucas paid, Ella smiled broadly at him and said, ‘Thanks, Dad.’

‘Yeah, thanks, Dad.’

He looked at them and smiled a little.

‘You’re welcome.’ He tried to smile at the girl behind the counter, but she was surly in response. She could tell, he thought, that whatever was going on here, he was no father, and not because he looked too young.

It was good to see Chris loosening up. He kept joking with Ella as they walked back to the hotel with the bags of clothes. Her good spirits were unlikely to make it through the day but Lucas reckoned on finding it easier if Chris was together enough to comfort her when the time came.

Lucas was still scanning the crowd as they walked. There seemed to be only tourists on the streets but he’d be glad to get out of Florence; he knew too well, from his own experience that tourist cities were easy places to kill someone.

When they got back, he kept it up, stepping into the lobby and glancing around before letting them pass. He looked quickly back out into the street then as Ella and Chris made towards the elevator. And then he heard her name spoken behind him, and it wasn’t Chris’s voice but somebody European.

‘Ella.’ A false cheerfulness, like an old friend unexpectedly encountered.

Lucas spun around, reaching under his shirt for his gun. Where had he come from? Behind the stairs, maybe. He should have seen him and now it was too late. Ella turned at the sound of her name and the guy was right there, lifting his gun to her face.

Chris was at the elevator door, staring back in shock. Ella still had the quizzical look she’d worn on turning. Lucas could feel his own painfully slow movements, the gun seeming to snag as he pulled it free, and the other guy ready to shoot.

And then, as Lucas continued to move, something strange happened. For a second, a second only, the other three appeared to freeze, Chris with his static look of terror, Ella unable to shift away from that puzzled smile, and the gunman, his finger on the trigger but not squeezing, the tip of the silencer just a few inches away from her face.

Lucas couldn’t see his face properly, only the side of his head, and then there was his own hand and gun in a line with it, like someone else had put it there for him. He pulled the trigger and the guy dropped, the roar of the gun echoing through the lobby like a slammed door.

He moved quickly now, pushing Ella and Chris into the elevator, taking the guy’s gun and handing it to Ella. He looked around the lobby again before dragging the body into the shadows behind the first flight of stairs. There was blood everywhere but the lobby was gloomy so maybe no one would notice for a while.

He got into the elevator with them and pressed the fourth-floor button. They were both staring at him, shell-shocked, though he guessed that was better than having them panicked and screaming.

Ella’s face and top were bloodied, flecks of it sticky in her hair. He wiped the worst of it from her face with his fingers and then he prised the gun out of her hand and dropped it into one of the bags.

‘When we walk past reception, you walk on this side of me, okay?’ He was looking directly into her eyes and got a twitching nod back in response. ‘Chris, you okay?’ Another uncertain nod. ‘Good. Just hold it together till we get back to the room.’

The reception area was empty, but Lucas kept them tight, covering the angles as they made towards the room, hoping that the guy downstairs had been on his own. And he was still angry with himself because if the shooter hadn’t hesitated it would have been job over. He should have seen him, should have been more vigilant.

Once in the room Lucas locked the door behind him and checked that the bathroom was clear. Ella was gasping for air, like she’d been underwater since entering the lobby and had only just surfaced. He took hold of her by the shoulders and said, ‘You okay?’ She nodded, tears running into the blood on her cheeks, but he could tell she was fighting now, regrouping.

‘It’s my fault.’ Lucas turned and looked at Chris. He was standing in the corner, timid. ‘It’s my fault,’ he said again.

‘You called someone, didn’t you?’

‘From a phone booth,’ he said defensively. ‘And I only called home. I spoke to my brother.’

‘And told him what?’

‘Where we were. The hotel.’ He looked scared, and maybe with good reason. Lucas could feel himself coiling up with anger.

‘You stupid fuck.’

‘I didn’t know whether I could trust you. I wanted someone to know where we were, in case . . .’

‘In case what?’ He didn’t answer. ‘In case what? Because good for you, you let someone know where we were.’ He was moving towards him, the anger swelling, breaking. Ella made some desperate plea for calm but all Lucas could see was Chris and the fact he’d nearly got her killed.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t . . .’ Lucas grabbed him by the shirt and threw him. Chris stumbled and fell onto the edge of the bed. He grabbed him again and put the gun between his eyes.

‘This close!
This close!
You stupid fuck!’

Chris was crying now, pleading incomprehensibly, and he could hear Ella saying, ‘Please, Lucas, don’t. Lucas, don’t,’ and then he could smell urine and Chris’s features crumpled further into humiliation. Suddenly all he could see was the boy he was standing over and he felt sick for what he’d just done to him, in front of his girlfriend.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and stepped back.

Chris sank down onto the floor and said, ‘Bastard.’

‘I know, I’m sorry. I was angry.’ He wasn’t sure if Ella had seen the wet patch on Chris’s trousers so he said, ‘Look, we don’t have a lot of time. Ella, go into the bathroom, change your clothes, wash your face, get the blood out of your hair.’ She looked at him like she needed reassurance, maybe that it was over, that he wouldn’t do anything more to Chris. ‘It’s okay. Go on.’

She went into the bathroom, still clutching the shopping bags she’d been carrying. With the door closed, Lucas said, ‘I don’t think she noticed. Change your clothes, bag them and toss them.’ Chris didn’t move at first so he added, ‘You know, there’s no shame in what just happened. I’ve known some pretty tough guys do the same thing, and worse.’

Chris looked up at him with contempt and said, ‘Don’t fucking patronize me.’ He got up and pulled some clothes out of a bag.

‘Okay, and I am sorry. I was just angry. I mean, Jesus, don’t you watch movies?’

‘Yes, I do.’ He looked angry himself, and wronged, as he said, ‘You told us it was an attempted kidnap. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, I don’t even know if you do, but kidnappers don’t tap the telephone of the victim’s boyfriend’s family. And that man you killed downstairs—he didn’t look like he wanted to kidnap her at all.’ Lucas felt uneasy, sensing that Chris was close to guessing how out of his depth he was, and how unsuited to protection work.

‘Look, last night I thought I was being overcautious. Now I know I wasn’t. These people have serious resources and you’re right, they’re trying to kill her.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. So Chris, you don’t have to be my friend, but I need you to be cool. Ella needs you to be cool.’ Chris nodded and Lucas handed him the key to the other room. ‘Change in there, freshen up. Knock when you come back.’

Chris took the key but before opening the door he said, ‘I’m sorry about the phone call.’

‘It’s my fault; I didn’t make things clear. And this isn’t the kind of work I usually do.’

‘I don’t understand. What do you usually do?’

‘I kill people.’ Chris stared at him as if to make sure he wasn’t joking. He left then and Lucas locked the door and fell back into the armchair.

He knew one thing: killing people was easier than dealing with them, relating to them. And looking back over the last twenty-four hours, he’d done almost everything wrong. He hadn’t spoken to them properly from the start and he hadn’t made clear to them how serious things were and he’d overreacted with Chris when the person he was really angry with was himself.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so sloppy, that he’d nearly let her get killed. Probably the only things that had saved her were her attractiveness and that innocently puzzled expression, and the fact that the gunman was young and stupid enough to be distracted by things like that.

But for all Lucas’s shortcomings, she
was
still alive. And if he could get her out of Italy, he was confident enough she’d stay that way. What happened afterwards wasn’t his concern.

The door opened and she came out of the bathroom, brushing her damp hair. She was wearing a tight-fitting top, a long hippyish skirt. It made her look taller than she was and highlighted her breasts, her hip bones, reminding him of the previous night, of thoughts he wanted to put out of his head, because they weren’t appropriate, because there were more important things to think about.

‘You look nice.’ She responded with a token smile but looked immediately concerned as she glanced around the room and saw no Chris. ‘He’s getting changed in my room.’

‘How is he?’

‘Okay.’

She looked down at the floor for a second, then looked him in the face again and said, ‘It was unforgivable, what you did.’

His thoughts foundered. Albeit in a shambolic fashion, he’d saved her life twice in the last twenty-four hours and killed three people in the process. But it was unforgivable that he’d made her boyfriend piss his pants for nearly getting her killed.

Even so, he could see how it had to look from her point of view. She’d been enjoying a tour of Europe with a guy she was in love with and this nightmare had descended over them, a nightmare of which the only physical embodiment was Lucas himself.

She was scared, worried, probably with good reason, and she had nobody else to offload any of it onto.

‘You’re right, it was unforgivable.’ He thought of adding something else but didn’t think he could stretch himself convincingly to contrition. ‘Put the other things you bought into one of the new bags. We need to leave soon.’ She looked like she wanted to say something else too, but after a pause she set to work packing the bag.

There was a knock at the door and Chris said, ‘It’s Craig.’

Lucas let him in and repeated the instructions he’d given to Ella, sparing him the awkward silence. When they were ready, he said, ‘Okay, Chris, when you spoke to your brother last night, did you say anything about me?’

Chris shook his head vigorously and said, ‘I didn’t even tell him anything was wrong, just that we’d come back to Florence and that we were staying here. That’s all, I just wanted them to know . . .’ His words trailed off, probably with the raw memory of their last exchange on this subject.

‘That’s good.’ He faced both of them again and said, ‘Between here and the railway station I need you to be relaxed but stay tight, vigilant, and do everything I say. If I go down, you do anything—throw your bags at them, use a gun if you can reach one, and run, get to the police. Okay?’ They nodded uneasily, perhaps at the thought of him being taken down, having to do this alone. ‘Good. Let’s go.’

Chris had the new backpack but Lucas gave him his other bag too. Ella had the duffel bag and Lucas his own backpack. He led them out into the corridor and through the reception, where there was still no one behind the desk. They could hear the sound of a TV from an adjoining room.

He hesitated by the elevator. It was an old-fashioned cage, making them too easy a target for anyone waiting at the bottom. He pointed at the stairs and put his finger to his lips. They walked quietly behind him, their steps lost against the steadily growing noise of the street below.