Dance With the Enemy (18 page)

‘Have we got it yet?’ Reggie asked.

They were huddled in Blakemore’s office. Habib, Selim’s technical whizz, was at the computer. Blakemore was sitting next to him. Selim was standing behind them, leaning against a large wooden display cabinet and nonchalantly combing his hair. Reggie was hanging around by the door, his anxiety and irritation rising by the minute.

They’d had Modena for over three days now and Reggie thought he’d done well to stay relaxed during that period. It wasn’t easy for him to keep his emotions, his anger, bottled up. He supposed the fact he’d let off a lot of steam pummelling Modena had helped. But he’d also been prepared for this taking some time. Now that the end goal was in sight, though, it was hard to keep his feet on the ground, and he felt like he was about to snap.

‘It’s getting there. Just give me a few more minutes,’ Habib said.

Habib had arrived just a few hours ago. He was part of Selim’s crew, along with Mustafa, who had been with them from the start, and two others who had been part of the attack on Modena’s motorcade but who’d since taken a back seat in proceedings.

Reggie looked over at Selim. He seemed to be the only person in the room who was fully in control. Everyone else was edgy and nervous. Everything about Selim unsettled Reggie. It was like nothing at all moved him. Except hurting people.

Reggie knew that Blakemore had been doing business with Selim for over three years. He didn’t get the impression that the two men were exactly friends, but then you don’t have to like
someone’s personality to have a successful business relationship with them. Reggie had been involved in some of Blakemore’s previous work with Selim, though this job was the first time either he or Blakemore had met the man in person.

He hoped it would be the last.

He could fully understand why Selim had been brought in, though. They needed a good cover story, something to send the authorities off at a tangent, and the extremist angle was ideal. Selim had been more than happy to play the role, given the amount of money involved for such a seemingly small piece of work. He’d even thrown in four of his men with the job to provide some much-needed skills, such as the techie Habib. Having Selim’s men involved also gave more credence to the terrorist angle and Selim was more than happy to take the credit for Modena’s kidnapping – it was a win–win situation.

But it hadn’t been easy keeping Selim under control. Blakemore had made it clear that it was down to Reggie to reign Selim in after what he’d done to Modena. Reggie knew that Blakemore didn’t have the balls to do that himself. And Reggie had been nervous at the prospect too. But ultimately, and to his surprise, Selim had obliged.

Money talks, Reggie supposed. Selim was, after all, a businessman. He knew that if they didn’t get what they needed from Modena, he wouldn’t be getting paid. None of them would.

‘As soon as we get it, we should move out,’ Reggie said. ‘I haven’t been able to get hold of Lorik since last night. Something’s up. Wouldn’t surprise me if the police had him.’

‘I know, Reggie, you keep saying that,’ Blakemore crowed, agitated, not taking his gaze off the computer screen. ‘But all the equipment is here. We can’t leave when we’re this close – it could take us days to set up again.’

Reggie huffed. The longer they sat here, the more likely it was that they would get caught out. Wasn’t Blakemore the one who had insisted on having the back-up plan to move Modena in the first place? And he was the one who had been the most worried when he’d heard about this John Burrows running amok.

‘Your man Lorik,’ Selim said, looking over at Reggie, ‘can he be trusted?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If he’s been caught, will he talk?’

‘Hold on a minute,’ Blakemore said. ‘We don’t know that he’s been caught. He could be off with a whore somewhere. Or he could be lying in a pool of his own blood.’

‘What!’ Reggie scoffed. ‘This is Lorik. I hardly think some lone woman would have felled him. You’d need a whole army to bring him down. He’s either off having some fun somewhere, raping that poor bitch probably, or the police have got him.’

‘That’s my point,’ Selim said. ‘If the police have him, can he be trusted? Should we be worried?’

‘He’s unbreakable,’ Reggie affirmed.

‘Nobody is unbreakable,’ Selim said, a stern look on his face. He stepped away from the cabinet, moving toward Reggie. ‘Believe me. I’m seen some tough cookies crumble.’

‘It’s the French national police we’re talking about here,’ Reggie retorted, nervousness clear in his voice. ‘I hardly think they’ve taken the Torture 101 course. Lorik will hold out.’

Everyone else in the room had stopped to look in on the discussion. Reggie looked at Blakemore as if asking for assistance. None came.

‘And what if it’s not the police that have him?’ Selim questioned, coming closer, his tone defiant. He was setting a challenge for Reggie. ‘What if it’s the CIA?’

‘The CIA? Man, you’ve been watching too many movies,’ Reggie said with an uneasy laugh. ‘All I was saying was we should get out of here. No point in taking unnecessary risks.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ Blakemore chimed in. ‘You think the CIA won’t be interested that the Attorney General has been kidnapped by Islamic extremists?’

‘Well, there’s your answer,’ Reggie said. ‘They’re out there looking for Islamic extremists. If the CIA were onto us, we’d know by now.’

We’ve got at least one Islamic extremist in the room with us right now
, Reggie thought, but decided not to mention that fact. Given the look in Selim’s eyes, he wasn’t sure that he’d appreciate it.

‘I don’t think they exactly advertise when they’re onto you,’ Selim said. He was now within a hair’s breadth of Reggie, who all of a sudden stood tall, puffing out his chest like a peacock displaying its feathers, as though his sheer size would get Selim to back off him.

‘Habib, are we getting any closer?’ Blakemore said, deflecting the attention away from a relieved Reggie. He really didn’t know what had happened to Lorik. What he did know was that he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

‘Just give me a few minutes!’ Habib snapped.

This is hopeless
, Reggie thought. Habib had been saying the same thing for over half an hour.

‘You’re looking a bit tense there,’ Selim mocked, as though he didn’t do tense. He reached out and squeezed Reggie’s shoulder for effect. ‘Everything okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ Reggie said, angrily shrugging Selim’s hand off and moving away from him, over toward the computer. ‘I just can’t understand why this is taking so long.’

‘Well, seeing as you’re not really doing anything of use here,’ Blakemore said, ‘why don’t you go and load up the vehicles so we’re ready to move out.’

‘Load up the vehicles with what?’ Reggie asked.

‘Well, for starters, with our prized asset.’

‘Fine. I’ll go and get Mustafa to help,’ Reggie grumbled. ‘Habib, how much longer do you need?’

‘Please! I’m almost there. Just give me a few minutes.’

Reggie gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as hard as he could as he turned to head for the door.
If he says that one more time
, he thought,
I’m going to ram that keyboard down his goddamn throat
.

Logan turned off the Fiat’s headlights when they were about a mile away from Blakemore’s farmhouse, wanting to remain as invisible as they could. It made the last part of the journey slow and awkward, particularly as there were no streetlights on this road. They arrived safe and sound nonetheless.

A few minutes earlier, they had passed the area where Grainger had been forced off the road last night. They’d both strained in the dark to see whether the two abandoned cars were still there. Sure enough, Lorik’s car was still tucked up in the field where they had left it. There were no obvious signs of anyone having been there. The broken headlight pieces were still at the side of the road where they’d left them and the fence that they’d hastily re-erected was holding its position. Altogether it suggested that there hadn’t been any major clean-up of the area. With any luck, that meant that the Slav’s body hadn’t yet been found by his accomplices.

They drove past the closed gates to Blakemore’s property, turned and parked up a farm track a hundred yards away. The car would be hidden from the road at least while it remained dark outside.

In the bright moonlight they could make out Blakemore’s farmhouse in the distance and what must have been a few acres of land, completely enclosed within a nine-foot-high white-painted wall, red tiles stacked on top. It was possible that some of the fields outside of the wall were his as well.

From the car, they walked back towards the farmhouse
through the adjacent field, which didn’t seem to be anything more than a dust bowl. At least it hadn’t rained recently, otherwise it would have been like a bog. Logan led the way, Grainger never more than two steps behind him. He turned every now and then to make sure she was still with him.

With the clear, star-filled skies above them, there was enough moonlight for them to find their way through the field. There was also plenty of light coming from inside the compound to light up the area around it. But the clear skies also meant that there was a chill in the air: it was almost two a.m. and the night-time temperature was somewhere close to zero. They didn’t have a coat or a jacket between them and both shivered as they made their way towards the compound.

When they had passed in the car, they’d noted the arched wooden gates at the front of the property, twelve feet high at their peak. A keypad together with camera and infrared spotlight were the only obvious security. They had been unable to tell exactly where on the property the house was located. But as they approached from the side, they could now clearly make out the roof of the substantial house about sixty or so yards back from where the road was.

Logan slowed up as they neared the perimeter wall. He tried his best in the dark to look for any other signs of security, be it spotlights or cameras or guards. There didn’t appear to be anything. He signalled to Grainger with his hand, circling it in the air. She nodded and they carried on, doing a full circuit around the outside wall, scoping out the property. The wall housed two other standard-sized wooden doors, on opposite sides to each other, plus there was a large set of loading doors at the back, similar to the front gates, which led onto a farm track that carried away into the darkness. Each of the doors and the back gates had a camera and security keypad but nothing more sophisticated than that. And there were no spotlights like there were at the front.

The wall itself certainly wasn’t impregnable. Blakemore had gone for looks as much as anything, with the wall’s colour and styling fitting in well with the local architecture. It was, after all, supposed to be a private house and not fortified barracks, so that wasn’t a surprise. The problem, though, was knowing whether or not there was more security on the inside. There would certainly
be additional cameras and spotlights, but there could also be dogs, armed guards and whatever else depending on how safety conscious –or paranoid –Blakemore was.

‘We should get ourselves inside,’ Logan whispered.

‘What? I thought we were just taking a look at the place?’ Grainger whispered back, shivering. She cupped her hands to her mouth and breathed into them to try to give them some warmth.

‘We are. But I want to look inside as well. Otherwise how do we know what we’re dealing with? Thought you knew that?’

She seemed unsure, but then joked, ‘Okay. Shall I knock or do you want to?’

Not laughing, Logan said, ‘We should go over at the back corner. You’d typically have more security at the front of a property anyway. And even from our quick recce, the back end seems to be the darkest spot.’

It took them a few minutes to cautiously retrace their steps, Logan again taking the lead. From the back corner, because of the angle, it wasn’t possible to see any of the house at all. There didn’t appear to be any lights on in the grounds immediately inside the wall either. Logan knew there was every possibility a spotlight would be positioned somewhere near and would come on as soon as they went over the wall.

But they were here now, and there was only one way to find out.

‘Can you take my weight?’ Logan said. ‘If you give me a bunk then I should be able to pull you up from the top. It’s not that high. It’ll be easier for you to push me than pull me.’

‘Yeah, go for it.’

She held out her hands, clasped together at waist height. Logan put his right foot onto them, ready to hoist himself upwards.

‘Ready?’ he said.

‘Yeah.’

He pushed as hard as he could, reaching up and grabbing the top of the wall. Grainger shifted on her feet, struggling to take his weight. Once he had managed to get both hands on the top of the wall he took the weight off her and hauled himself up.

The wall was only about six inches thick and it was hard for Logan to perch on the top. Particularly with the shape of the tiles, which were lying together to form an upside-down V, like a row of stacked cards.

‘What can you see?’ Grainger whispered up to him.

He did his best to shuffle round and get a look. Luckily no lights had focused on him and he didn’t notice anything of concern nearby. He could clearly see some security lights attached to the back of the house, though, which was about fifty yards away.

There were numerous lights on inside the farmhouse. They provided enough illumination for him to make out the basic layout of the grounds at the back of the house. Other than the paved area directly behind the house, it seemed to be mostly lawn. Directly below him and all along that part of the wall were thick bushes. There were two vehicles parked near to the house: an SUV and a panel van.

Most importantly, though, there was no sign of any guards or guard dogs.

‘I think we’re good to go,’ he said. ‘Grab hold of my hand.’

She was able to reach his hand without jumping. He was surprised at how icy her skin was. He could feel the chill in the air, but it hadn’t bothered him much. He’d learnt a long time ago how to block out things like cold. Much of the technique was mind over matter.

Despite her being light, it was still a struggle to pull Grainger up, the awkward shape of the tiles meaning he had to keep one arm on the wall for balance. She made it to the top and adjusted herself. They gave each other a nod and pushed their bodies over the edge, holding on to the top of the wall with their arms outstretched. Their bodies dangled down on the inside of the compound, just a few feet off the ground. On the count of three, they dropped the short distance, managing to avoid getting tangled in the bushes.

They both crouched low behind the foliage, waiting to see if anything or anyone had been alerted by their arrival. Satisfied that they were in the clear, Logan stood up, surveying the area once more.

‘I’m going to move forward, along the wall, toward the house,’ he said.

‘I’ll follow you.’

‘Okay, but keep your distance. Better to create two targets.’

‘I’m not planning on being a target for anyone. But okay.’

They crept along the wall, a few steps apart, with Logan in front. Every few seconds he turned to make sure Grainger was
still there. She was, though in the darkness he couldn’t make out any detail, just that a figure of her size and shape was back there.

Suddenly a spotlight came on at the back of the house. Its beam reached out to within three yards of where Logan was standing.

Had he done that?

He was only about fifteen yards from the house now. Although he wasn’t directly in the beam, the glare from the light was enough for him to be partially lit up. Anybody coming out the back of the house would be able to see him if they were to glance in his direction. He turned round, looking back to where Grainger was. He could make out her shape and indicated for her move back, but because she was still in the darkness and he was unable to fully see her, he couldn’t tell whether she had understood his signal.

Regardless, he began to creep back towards her, away from the light.

But then the back door to the house opened.

Logan turned his head towards the sound and froze. He had managed to move a few yards further away from the light. If he stayed still, he would hopefully remain out of sight.

He heard voices before he saw anyone. It was too distant to hear what they were saying, though. Two men emerged. The spotlight lit them up as well as if it had been daytime. Logan wondered whether they had turned the light on manually, rather than it having come on due to his presence. The men didn’t seem to be spooked by it being on, so he guessed it was probably the former.

The man who came out first was short and slight, dark skinned and dressed in black. He looked young. The second man was much taller and wider, light skinned with a face like a prized fighter. He was holding onto a third man who was half walking, half being dragged. The third man’s hands were tied together in front of him. There was a small brown sack over his head.

Modena
, Logan thought. It had to be.

He risked a look back at Grainger. He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw her standing right behind him. She had crept up on him in absolute silence.

She sensed his surprise and put a finger to her lips. ‘That has to be him,’ she whispered.

He nodded, returned his gaze to the men. The short man opened the back doors of the van. It was parked with its rear
facing the house and Logan couldn’t see into the back of it at all. The larger man pulled Modena to the van and bundled him in. All three were now out of sight, inside the van. The men were talking loudly to each other, possibly arguing, though Logan still couldn’t make out what they were saying. After a few seconds of banging, the bigger man came back into view and walked inside the house. A minute later he was followed by the short man.

‘What now?’ Grainger said. ‘That has to be Modena in the van. Should we go and get him?’

‘Maybe. But not yet. We need to be sure of what we’re doing when we go in. We should try to make it to the side of the house. We can hide there on the corner. That way we’ll be closer to the van and we’ll be more hidden than we are here. That spotlight doesn’t reach into the corner at all.’

‘Okay. But let’s do it quickly. We don’t want to be caught out in the light.’

They began to move forward, together this time, crouching low out of instinct. It wouldn’t make any difference, though, if someone was actually looking in their direction.

And they were almost directly in the centre of the spotlight’s beam, lit up for all to see, when the short man came back out of the door, assault rifle slung over his shoulder.