Blind Alley (41 page)

The warehouse was a huge, dark, empty space. Parts of the concrete floor were covered in water from where the rain had come in through the leaking roof. Brady looked up at the rotting wooden rafters overhead. There was no first floor, it was just one large cavernous room. But what struck Brady was the fact that it was empty.

Where the fuck is she? Where the fuck is Claudia?

Brady tried to keep calm, keep his wits about him. If he ended up dead then Claudia would inevitably die.

If she’s not already dead . . .

The only item of furniture in the room was in the centre. It was a chair. A gloomy light bulb hung down from the ceiling above it casting an eerie, pale glow over the middle of the warehouse. Just enough to illuminate the seat and presumably the occupant.

‘Go on,’ instructed the masked militia guard behind him as he poked the gun into the side of Brady’s head. ‘Take a seat.’

Brady did as he was ordered and limped over to the seat. He sat down, wincing as he tried to straighten his left leg out. All he could do was edge the leg out at an angle that caused the least pain. He looked at the two masked guards in front of him. The third guard had taken his handcuffs off and was busy securing his wrists to the arms of the chair with black duct tape. He then wrapped it around his chest, restraining his body to the back of the chair.

It was ludicrous. He was obviously unable to put up a fight. His wrists were already secured to the chair and there was a good chance his leg was broken.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Brady asked, unable to disguise the thick contempt in his voice.

The reply was swift. A crack to the left side of his face with the gun.

The pain was horrific. It took him a moment to come back to his senses. The gun had struck his jaw in the exact same place as Munroe’s fist.

‘Fuck!’ cursed Brady as he spat out blood.

He knew this was just the start of it.

Before he had a chance to talk again the guard carrying the semi-automatic rifle disappeared. Brady realised now that there was a door at the back of the warehouse. Where it led, he had no idea.

He sat and waited for whoever was in charge to show.

Minutes later heavy, echoing footsteps signalled the armed guard’s return. Brady looked up. He was dragging something – someone. He realised then that it was Claudia. It had to be. She had a bag over her head but it was her. He recognised her clothes. Her body.

‘What the fuck have you done to her?’ Brady shouted.

The answer was another heavy, resonating crack to the side of the head.

The pain was blinding.

‘Fuck you!’ Brady spat.

But he knew they were just playing with him. This was nothing.

He struggled in vain to get free as Claudia’s body was thrown unceremoniously down at his feet.

‘Claudia? Claudia?’ he asked, desperate for a response.

The guard who had dragged her in bent over and yanked the black bag off her head. Her face was badly swollen and bruised but it was her. It was Claudia. Relief coursed through him. She was still alive. He could feel his eyes stinging. The reality too much to accept.

Then it hit him. Her damaged face. The bruises and cuts on her arms and around her neck. Even though she was gagged he could see that her lip was bleeding. There was a nasty two-inch split that needed stitches. He felt sick as he looked at what they’d done to her. He didn’t want to think about what else they might have done. The thought was too repulsive to even wonder whether it had happened. But he knew animals like this were capable of anything.

Why? There was no fucking need to touch her. Why the fuck did they touch her?

Claudia looked up at Brady. He tried to hide the shock he felt. One eye was completely swollen shut. But the other one was filled with absolute terror as she stared up at him.

Whether it was at seeing Brady there, unable to move, unable to save her, he didn’t know. All he knew was that her chances of survival were low. The kidnappers had removed the bag from her head. That wasn’t a good sign. It meant she could identify them. Brady tried to talk himself down. They were all wearing black balaclavas so maybe he was over-reacting.

‘I’ll fucking kill you if you touch her!’ shouted Brady as he attempted to stand up.

The guard with the rifle turned it onto Claudia.

‘Don’t move.’

Brady resisted.

The guard jabbed hard into her lower back.

She moaned, her eyes filled with tears.

Brady sat back, his hands clenched tightly around the arms of the chair.

‘Why don’t you give us what we want, Jack?’ asked a voice with a heavy Eastern European accent.

Brady couldn’t see the speaker.

But he saw Claudia’s reaction. It was enough. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear as she looked up at the man standing behind Brady.

He felt sick inside. She recognised him. He could tell. She could see his face.

No, Claudia! Fucking no! Don’t look at him!

He could feel the adrenalin coursing through his body. He had to get her out of here. But he didn’t know how. He was trapped. Tied to a chair with a shattered leg. He couldn’t save himself, so how the hell did he think he could save her?

All he could feel now was blind rage. At his own stupidity for walking into this situation. How did he think it was going to end?

They would have no choice but to shoot her. Bastards like this lot were too organised. They wouldn’t leave any loose ends. Anything that could tie them to the atrocities they carried out. Claudia was a liability. A witness who could identify them.

A hand was placed on Brady’s shoulder.

‘I have been looking forward to meeting “the” Jack Brady for some time now. You caused us a lot of problems. And wasted us a lot of time and money. But I am sure you know that,’ he said as he slowly removed his hand.

Brady couldn’t help but notice the gold signet ring with a diamond-encrusted ‘N’ emblem on one of the manicured fingers. This had to be one of the Dabkunas brothers. It made sense. Ronnie Macmillan’s killing in prison to silence him. Trina McGuire’s beating and rape to force her to reveal Nick’s whereabouts. Kidnapping Claudia so they could lure Brady in. Their ultimate goal was revenge. Brady had exposed their lucrative sex-trafficking business venture with Ronnie Macmillan. And Nick? Nick had betrayed them. They hadn’t known that he was only on their payroll to infiltrate them. Not until the end did they realise that Nick was undercover.

Brady looked down at Claudia. She was trembling as the tip of the rifle rested in the small of her back.

‘Let her go. Then I’ll talk.’

‘If we do not?’ he questioned.

‘Then I won’t talk.’

His captor laughed. It was cold and detached.

‘You really think we cannot make you talk?’

‘Try me,’ Brady said.

‘Take her out,’ the man ordered.

The guard standing on Brady’s left went round and dragged her to her feet.

Brady looked at her. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right. But she was petrified. He could see it in her eyes and there was nothing he could do. She was going to die and she knew it.

Her eyes fixed on him, wild with panic, as she was taken away.

Brady attempted to lunge forward, anything to stop them. But he was hit in the face. This time with a rifle butt. The chair fell backwards, taking Brady with it. He crashed to the ground, cracking the back of his head against the cold, uneven concrete.

The next thing he remembered was being doused in cold water. He came to, gasping for air. He looked around. Two expensively suited dark-haired men were standing in front of him – the Dabkunas brothers.

‘Where is she?’ Brady cried.

No one answered him. He looked around at the two remaining masked guards.

Where the fuck is the third one? Where is he? Where’s he taken her?

Then he heard the gunshot outside, the sound ricocheting through the silent night.

‘NOOO!’ Brady shouted.

He tried to move. To get his arms free from the tape that restrained him to the chair.

A swift crack to the side of his head stopped him.

‘Where is Nick?’ asked one of the brothers.

‘Fuck you!’ answered Brady. His dark eyes were filled with hatred.

There was nothing they could do to him. It was over.

He couldn’t remember how long he had tried not to scream. To hold the pain in. Eventually he did.

The crowbar had come in handy. Every bone in his right hand had been obliterated. His left leg was definitely broken now. He had heard the sickening snap of the bones under the weight of the crowbar as it hit again. Then again. And again.

Still he didn’t talk.

They had used pliers on him. He passed out cold after the sixth fingernail had been pulled out.

Again they threw water over his face. Dazed and exhausted, he came to.

‘Bring the girl in. Maybe that will make him talk.’ one of the brothers said.

‘If not, then cut his tongue out,’ ordered the other.

Brady had only one thought racing through his mind: Claudia.

Is she still alive? God . . . please let her be alive?

But he had heard the gunshot outside.

Brady watched as one of the two remaining guards left. Minutes later he returned with a young, brutally beaten woman. It took Brady a moment to recognise her. When he did his heart sank.

Nicoletta . . .

Claudia had been right. They had abducted her. They were back in the North-East tying up loose ends. Silencing ex-business partners and punishing those who had acted against them. Nicoletta – trafficked by the Dabkunas brothers and handed over as a gift to Ronnie Macmillan to seal their business deal – had talked to the police.

Brady couldn’t look at her. Her bedraggled long blonde hair hung as limp as her bony arms. She had no fight left. Whatever they had done to her had killed her on the inside. She was just waiting for them to show mercy and execute her.

‘Nicoletta?’ Brady whispered, his throat hoarse.

She looked at him. Recognition briefly flickered in her large brown eyes. Then it was gone.

‘If you do not tell us where your brother is we’ll kill her,’ said one of the Dabkunas brothers.

One of the hired militia raised his semi-automatic rifle and pointed it at her head.

Before Brady had a chance to talk a shot was fired. It was deafening. He watched as blood sprayed and her body collapsed to the ground.

After that, everything turned black.

Chapter Forty-Nine

‘Jack? Can you hear me?’

Brady blinked.

‘Oh God, Jack! Jack?’

It took Brady a couple of moments to realise he had no idea what had happened to him. Or even who was talking to him.

‘Nurse!’ a voice screamed.

Blackness came before the nurse.

Two days passed in a morphine-induced blur. Brady had seen countless faces – most of which he didn’t recognise. Or want to recognise. Two days of not knowing where he was or why. All he felt was pain, despite the morphine drip. Every part of him ached. It was unbearable. But most of all it hurt to breathe.

It was only when he realised that he had survived that pieces of the jigsaw started falling into place.

When he next opened his eyes he saw her – Claudia. She had her head on his stomach. Even though he couldn’t see her face he knew it was her. The wild, unruly red hair a giveaway. He knew she was asleep. Could feel her chest rising gently against him.

Relief coursed through him.

She’s alive . . . Fuck, she’s alive . . .

As if aware, she stirred. Half asleep, she raised her head and looked at him.

‘Oh God, Jack!’ Tears spilled down her cheeks as she reached out to his face and touched him, as if making sure he was really there.

Brady stared at the damage to her face. At what they had done to her. He could feel the pain and anger inside start to build as he took it in. But she was alive.

Thank God she was alive.

‘Harry?’ Claudia cried out suddenly.

Brady watched as she turned and looked expectantly at the open door. For some reason he couldn’t move. Nor could he talk.

Conrad ran into the room. He stopped when he saw Brady.

‘Sir?’

The word hung in the air.

Brady wasn’t sure what was going on or why Conrad was looking at him as if he’d come back from the dead.

A few more days passed by in a drug-induced blur. But Claudia had stayed. She had refused to leave him. Too scared.

‘I . . . thought they had . . .’ Brady couldn’t bring himself to say it.

‘Killed me?’ Claudia asked.

He attempted to nod his head but it hurt too much. Everything hurt.

Claudia closed her eyes as if blocking out the memory.