Circle of Fire (2 page)

‘Not really,' Maya said.

‘No. You look tired,' Helen said, eyeing her closely. ‘What you need is some fun.'

‘Chance would be a fine thing,' Maya answered.

‘Well, we'll have to see what we can do,' Helen said, stacking the cans on the draining board and
then wiping her hands. ‘There's a barn dance down at the village hall next week.'

Maya raised her eyebrows. ‘Wow! Cool!'

‘No need to be sarcastic. A quick do-si-do would do you the world of good,' Helen said, her eyes crinkling with laughter. ‘Here,' she added, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a carton of juice. ‘If you're off for a run, you need energy.'

‘Mum's coming too,' Maya said, stretching out her legs. ‘We're doing the loop, through the woods, down the lane to the ford and back up the hill.'

‘It makes me dizzy just thinking about it.' Helen said. She poured some juice into a glass. ‘Drink this before you go.'

Maya took the glass and sipped the ice-cold juice.

‘Do the bodyguard people know you're going out?'

‘Yep, Mum told them. Don't worry, they'll be tracking us all the way.'

‘And a good thing too.'

‘I know,' Maya agreed. ‘I'm glad they're around, but sometimes I'd just like to . . . feel free.' Her eyes took on a faraway look. ‘I'm missing loads at school, and then summer holidays'll be starting soon.
All my friends will be doing stuff together.'

‘Hopefully it won't be for much longer,' Gran said, with a sympathetic smile. ‘Then you can get back to London. Although I must say, I like having you here.'

‘Love you too,' Maya said, giving Helen a quick kiss. ‘Tell Mum I'm waiting outside.'

The sun was already bright, the dewy lawn sparkling like a giant lake, the flower beds flaming with colour – so different from the previous night when Maya had peered down onto a shadowy garden of fuzzy grey shapes. She stood with her hands on her hips, scanning the paths and soft soil beds, looking for a trace of the dark shifting shadow that had disturbed her sleep. There was nothing. Somebody or something had crunched the gravel at midnight but had left no trace, no footprints.

Her eyes lifted to the place where the hills humped and hollowed, where the dark woods lay. She stared until her eyes watered, wondering if anyone was out there – not the bodyguards, as Helen called them, but the terrorists who had threatened to take her hostage.

Behind her, the door opened and Pam appeared, humming a tune. She looked so bright-eyed
and cheerful that Maya's dark thoughts quickly disappeared – early morning was the best time for running.

Before setting off, they did a few stretches together and Maya realised how much she'd grown, and how tiny Pam was in comparison. They were almost opposites, Pam's figure trim and compact in running gear, her freckled skin pale against a navy vest, her fine blonde hair held back with a white band. Beside her, Maya was like a rangy racehorse; long brown legs and arms, inky-black hair cascading down her back and dark brown, velvety eyes. It's no wonder people did a double take when Pamela introduced Maya as her daughter. It probably didn't take them long to work out that Maya was adopted.

Screwing her hair into a ponytail, Maya waited while Pam dashed into the kitchen for a quick drink of water. When she came out she was talking into her radio, informing the duty agents about their intended movements.

‘OK. We're sorted,' she said.

Together they set off across the back lawn, slipped through a gap in the hedge and out into the open meadow. Here they took the path through the
long grass down towards the woods. Under the trees Maya saw two figures waiting and watching for them. By the time they entered the cool darkness of the trees, the figures had disappeared.

Striding out together, their footsteps pounded hard mud, sunlight filtered through the branches, dappling their arms. When the path narrowed, Maya sucked in more air and increased her speed, running ahead. She sniffed the rich, earthy smell of the pine trees, enjoying the easy rhythm of her stride and the feeling of strength in her body. She ducked under a low branch, skirted round a fallen log and ran on through the tunnel of trees until she reached the other side of the wood. At the stile she paused and looked back. For a moment she thought Pam had stopped, but then she came out of the thicket and ran panting towards her.

When she was alongside Maya, Pam stood still and leaned forward with her hands on her hips, breathing heavily. ‘Whoa, you set a cracking pace. How come you've improved so much?'

Maya beamed a crooked smile. ‘The running machine at school. I wasn't allowed out at lunchtime, remember?'

‘OK. No need to rub it in,' Pam said, straightening up and shaking out the muscles in her legs.

Behind her mother's shoulder Maya saw a movement in the bushes and caught a glimpse of a tall man with grey hair. The security agents were trying to keep pace with them. She smiled to herself – she'd give them a good workout.

‘Let's go,' she said, and putting her hand on the stile, she vaulted it neatly and set off.

Rambling gorse bushes and spiky nettles narrowed the path to the lane, making it slow going for a few yards, but then there was open land and Maya flew across it to reach the kissing gate. She squeezed through and was out onto the open road, where she relaxed into an easy stride, allowing Pam to catch up.

The sun was full on their faces as they jogged side by side down the lane. There were swathes of buttercups and red campions in the hedges, the bushes were bright with birdsong and Maya felt her spirits lift. It was lovely to be out so early when they had the lanes to themselves. No chattering ramblers, no traffic, and better still, the security agents were keeping their distance, giving them some space.

The sleek silver Mercedes parked in a gateway was a surprise, hidden from view until they were almost in front of it.

Pam, breathing hard to keep up, didn't notice the driver leaning back against the field gate, a mobile to his ear, but Maya saw him and thought it strange. He didn't look the country type in his sleek, shiny suit and sunglasses. A quick snapshot registered – thick dark hair, brown skin, short grey beard, medium height, a bit overweight. What was he doing there? The glare of his eyes was on her back as she ran down the lane, and she had to admit to herself then that she was glad the security agents were shadowing them.

At the ford Pam ran ahead, skittering down the bank, making a big deal of waving her arms about, balancing on stepping stones with exaggerated clowning movements.

‘You'll fall,' Maya shouted and, sure enough, one of Pam's trainers squelched into the mud.

‘Serves you right,' Maya mocked.

Pam tried to catch her to push her in, but Maya was too fast.

‘This was supposed to be a serious training run,' Maya protested.

Pam laughed. ‘Remember how you used to love me driving the car through this ford?' she asked, wiping her muddy trainer on the grassy bank.

‘Yeah,' Maya agreed. ‘When I was five and it was full of water. We'd get stuck in the mud now.'

‘That's global warming for you,' Pam said, as they clambered up the bank.

‘Race you back home,' Maya challenged, running ahead.

The road back to the cottage was the most taxing part of the course – a long uphill climb. Maya ran with long even strides, her arms pumping.

Approaching a sharp bend, she slowed slightly, wiping sweat from her forehead, then looked up at a sudden squeal of brakes. Rushing towards her was a silver car. It had taken the bend too fast and was on the wrong side of the road. Maya yelled out to Pam, at the same time flinging herself towards the hedge. Thorns scraped her arms, flying grit stung her eyes.

The car just missed them. When she turned round, Pam was picking herself up off the tarmac.

‘Stupid idiot,' Pam yelled.

Maya wiped her eyes and rubbed at her arms where the thorns had scratched.

‘Good job we're OK,' Maya said. ‘No thanks to him.'

The silver car had stopped a little way ahead. It was the Mercedes she'd spotted earlier. Pam started to stride towards it, eager to tell the driver just what she thought of him, but she didn't get the chance. Tyres skidding, the car roared off up the lane.

While Pam threw a few curses after it, Maya heard the sound of another car engine behind them. A big black vehicle came cruising up the lane towards them. It stopped when it was just a few metres away – a jeep with tinted windows, more army vehicle than car, it took up most of the road and sat with its engine purring.

Maya only had time to exchange an inquiring glance with her mum before the car doors swung open. Her eyes goggled as hooded men sprang out and stormed towards them waving guns.

‘Get down! Down!' they screamed.

Before Maya could react, two black hoods flew towards her. One of them grabbed her head, forcing it backwards, fingers snaked round her neck, an arm circled her shoulders, her wrists were wrenched painfully up her back. She twisted and kicked, frothing with pain.

‘Mum!' she yelled, but immediately a hand clamped her mouth.

She tried to bite the fleshy palm, squirmed sideways, stabbing out with her elbows, kicking at the men's legs, but it was no use, there were two of them holding her.

This was it. This was what she'd dreaded. They'd come to kidnap her. Where were the security agents? Her body went limp as she watched three hooded men surrounding Pam, targeting guns at her head and body. Pam had her hands partly raised and was talking fast, saying something in sharp, urgent tones. Maya couldn't hear what it was but one of the men nodded, then raised his hand and made a forward motion. Two of the men seized Pam's arms and started dragging her towards the jeep.

Don't take her, don't take her! Maya wanted to shout, but her captor's hand was jammed so hard over her mouth and nose that she could hardly breathe. Her legs were shaking violently, her bones rattling with shock, then her body jerked as a crack of gunfire shattered the air. One of the men holding Pam wheeled backwards and fell.

Maya gave a strangled scream, fighting to free herself, but the men holding her were too strong;
even when they began shooting towards the hedge their grip on her didn't relax. She was terrified that she would be hit as bullets whistled back and forth.

The Security Agents hiding behind the hedge yelled to her, ‘Keep down! Down! ' But Maya couldn't dodge down, she was a prisoner, directly in the firing line. Bullets zinged past her, hitting the jeep; one of her captors yelled and let go, falling to the ground. She tried to shake herself free as a flash of fire screamed over her head towards the hedge.

‘Let's go! Let's go!' one of the assailants shouted.

Then all hell was let loose. Gunfire blazed back and forth. Maya was shoved to the ground, falling onto the gritty road. Gravel burned her hands and cheek, she tasted dirt.

Above the sound of gunshots she heard her mum screaming for her to run. But she couldn't run, she couldn't move or make a sound, she was frozen with fear. There was another thunderclap of fire towards the hedge, then shiny black boots crunched past her head, running towards the jeep. Doors banged shut, an engine revved and the vehicle skidded and slewed off up the road, disappearing from sight.

Silence gathered round her. Tears burned in her eyes, a blackbird sang in a nearby bush, soft wind
rustled the leaves. Slowly, uncertainly, Maya pulled herself up and lurched to her feet.

‘Are you all right?' A man she recognised as one of the security team came limping towards her, his sleeve covered in blood, a radio dangling from his hand.

‘Yes,' Maya said. ‘I'm OK.'

‘They got Danny,' he told her, pointing to the hedge.

Maya looked and saw a pair of trainers sticking out of the long grass. She gasped. ‘We have to help him.'

Stumbling up the bank she went closer, bending down she parted the leafy branches. He was wearing jeans, just ordinary denim jeans, but his shirt, a pale blue cotton shirt, was splashed with dark blood, and there was a bloody mess where the top of his head should have been. There was nothing anybody could do. His blood was flowing into the earth soaking the ground beneath the bright buttercups. It was Danny, a young agent who had played cheesy music, singing along to it as he'd driven her to school. His voice blared into her head; she remembered him telling her about his young son, she'd laughed at his bad jokes. Now he was dead,
his blue eyes staring up at the sky.

‘Bloody radio's smashed . . . no signal on my mobile phone,' the wounded agent rasped, slumping down onto the bank beside her. He winced as he tried to move his arm, pain scarred his face. ‘We saw the car . . . the Merc.' His words tumbled out in jagged pieces. ‘Danny ran a check . . . if we hadn't stopped to do that . . . we'd have been here in time. Christ! What a mess.'

Maya looked at him with glazed eyes. She felt nothing. What had just happened was unbelievable – a nightmare, a horror film. An agent was dead and her mum gone – driven away to God knew where.

Maya's brain was in shock, her thoughts slippery as worms. Precious seconds ticked away while the wounded agent dripped blood and yelled into his defunct radio. He was in a bad state, a bullet had fractured his arm and his leg was bleeding heavily. She had to get help.

Lurching forward, she scanned the road, hoping desperately to see a vehicle she could flag down, but nothing appeared, no truck or car, not even a tractor.

Think, Maya, think. Focus, focus.

With a trembling hand she pinched her bloody nose, threw back her head. Blood trickled into her throat, sharp, metallic.

Get help! Run, you idiot, run. Run, go for help, go, go!

‘You stay here,' she shouted to the wounded agent. ‘I'll run to the cottage.'

Her trembling legs were slow to respond, she stumbled up the lane and clumsily climbed the stile onto the footpath. Then adrenalin kicked in. Desperation banished pain from her limbs.