Keep Me Safe (7 page)

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Authors: Duka Dakarai

BOOK: Keep Me Safe
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“You are Sky Sinclair?” She pouts, while emptying the contents of her beaded bag onto the marbled counter.

 

“Yes I am, for my sins.” I laugh lightly, turning slowly to face her.

 

“Then I have a small gift for you.”

 

As I turn fully to face her, puzzled by her statement, I see a flash of something shiny and glass-like, as she lunges towards me. A sharp point of a needle skims millimetres from my arm catching in the silk of my gown. I lash out with all my weight behind me as she lunges again. I try to scream but my voice appears trapped in fear. The needle point again tears through the material missing its target. I swing an arm in panic, missing her, catching the edge of a cubicle doorframe. The sudden pain finally releases a scream from my mouth.

 

Brains
bursts in through the door shouting into her wristwatch “Red, red, red!” She launches herself at my attacker. The woman ducks swiftly, throws a right hook at Brain’s jawline, and dives out of the door. Momentarily stunned, Brains spins 360 degrees chasing after her.

 

I s
tagger to my feet as the door to the powder room splinters and cracks under the force of Kane and Dalton crashing through it. In a split second, I am rushing through the exit, engulfed in his arms and pinned tightly against his body.

 

As we disappear from the building, I faintly hear over the microphone ‘And the winner tonight of the Specialist Journalist of the Year is Sky Sinclair……….’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

 

DCI Mercer hands me the grainy CCTV image of the woman who attacked me in the powder room at the London Hilton three days ago. DCI Keaton leans across the coffee table sighing deeply. “I know it’s not much to go on, and to be honest, your description and account of events is better than a shitty grainy picture. But at least the CCTV image puts her in the vicinity. I know we have asked you this before….but you are certain that her accent was Russian?”

 

I nod, for the umpteenth time. “Yes, definitely. She was Russian.”

 

Jack Mercer scowls in frustration. “Alexei Bortsov is being interviewed as we speak.
But he is denying knowing or ever meeting the woman who attacked you. But we’re pushing him….putting the pressure on. And the partial print on the victim’s bracelet came back negative for him. So we’re running it again against all our databases.”

 

“Surely she must have ditched the syringe somewhere. Is there any news on that?” Kane enters the living room
, followed closely by Storm. Kane insisted since the incident that security be increased so now the full team take it in shifts to watch me 24/7 in the Safe House.

 

Jack raises his hands, irritated. “We swept every inch of Mayfair, Kane. Nothing. If your team had caught her, then……”

 

Kane balls both his hands into tight fists. “Don’t you think I’ve chewed the team enough?! She disappeared into thin air. She must have had back-up. Where the fuck were your guys, eh?” Kane roars stepping towards Jack aggressively. Storm pulls back his boss, forcing him into a chair.

 

Jo
hn Keaton runs a hand through his hair. “Guys, this isn’t helping. We need to work together. Sky, call us if you remember anything else….no matter how insignificant it may seem.”

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

Alexei Bortsov slides his large frame into the back seat of his Bentley Azure positioned at the exit car park of New Scotland Yard. He pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to the man already seated. “Sort this mess out, Dmitry. I am losing patience at a very fast rate.”

 

Dmitry nods abruptly before responding. “Was it Natalya in the photograph?”

 

Alexei shakes the tension out of his neck. “Yes, but I denied knowing her. What was she thinking?”

 

“Perhaps she thought she was protecting you?”
Dmitry tries to soften the tension in the air.

 

“Huh? Protecting me? She just brought shit right to my front door! And now she has disappeared too. Find
Natalya, find Sky Sinclair and put an end to this, Dmitry!”

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

Storm sn
atches the mobile from his ear, smiles widely, and walks back through the French doors into the living room. He throws his muscular bulk into a chair and eyes his boss. Kane is a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. Storm has never known Kane to lose his cool and he’s not about to let that happen to his buddy, his boss, now.

 

“Brains, get your shit together. You and I are going shopping.” Storm grins, folding himself back out of the chair.

 

Kane snaps up his head. “Shopping? What the fuck……”

 

Storm halts him before he implodes. “We will be an hour. Max.
You always trusted me back in the day, didn’t you? Trust me now. It’s for your benefit, brother.”

 

Brains searches his face as they climb into the Brabus and pull out of the driveway. “What are you up to, Storm? Pissing off Kane right now is not a good move.”

 

He laughs confidently. “He’ll thank me later. But right now, he needs to chill out, maybe get laid, and we’re about to make that happen.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The distinctive beep, beep of a text message breaks the silence and tension around the dining table. Storm thumbs the message open, reads it, before tossing it back onto the table. “They will be here in ten minutes.” He announces to Brains.

 

“Who? What’s going on, Storm?” Kane snaps at his buddy.

 

Storm leans back into his chair, wipes his mouth slowly with his napkin, and grins. “I’ve called in a favour so we can all have a night off. And you can skin my ass over it later, boss, but right now……you need a beer and maybe some poker.”

 

I leap out of my chair and wrap my grateful arms around his big neck. “Thank you, Storm. I think we’re all in need of that. Yeah…..fun times!” And I do a little happy jig around the table.

 

Kane shakes his head, releasing the remains of his scowl, and letting the beginnings of a smile break across his face. “I’m not happy, Storm……I lead this team. But damn, I need a beer. Who is the back-up?”

 


Dixon and his crew. And we only have them for one night. They leave at six am sharp.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

 

Kane takes another slug of his beer and narrows his eyes at me. “There is no such word, Sky. You are just making up words now!”

 

“Xylem is a word, I swear. It’s the woody parts of a plant.” I giggle, jumping up in search of a dictionary. I sway with the sudden movement
and stagger back into my seat.

 

“Yeah, it’s a word.” Brains slurs through a hiccup. Storm pats her on the back rather too heartily knocking her into the scrabble board. “Hey, watch it, freak. Nearly took me off my chair with that slap
…..and spilled my wine. Don’t want me to put you on your ass again, do you, big guy?” She pouts playfully at him.

 

“No way! You put Storm on his ass? When?” My eyes grow wide, urging her on.

 

“Day two with the team. He patted my ass so I let him have it with a too sul”

 

“A what? Too sul….is that a martial art move or something?”

 

Storm grins, making a playful grab for Brains. “Half pint here is a master in Taekwondo….but she only caught me off guard that one time.”

 

She bats him away
before picking up her scrabble pieces. I count my score for xylem and hand the score pad to Kane. “Your turn, big guy. Unless you want to take a break while I tell Storm and Brains how I nearly beat your ass at Boxing?”

 

Kane throws me a mock scowl. “You did not beat me at Boxing.
You cheated. You distracted me.”

 

“Now this I have to hear.” Storm lays down his pieces, folds his arms and leans back for the story. Dalton and Brains follow suit. Kane scrapes a hand down through his goatee and smirks.

 

“Well?” Dalton presses us further. “What’s the story?”

 

“There’s nothing to tell. We were
Boxing, she distracted me and managed to get a uppercut in.” Kane shrugs casually trying to keep a straight face, failing miserably.

 

Brains
arches an eyebrow. “Now tell us your version, Sky.”

 

“Well…..as you can imagine, my version is slighter longer and more detailed on the
account of me being a journalist.” I take another long pull of wine and lean forward to tell the story. “Kane was doing his best impression of a drill sergeant when I asked if I could exercise with him one day. Anyway, he seemed to think my body would do moves it is not designed to do….and I protested. He will tell you it was a tantrum. Anyway, then he made me mad by making a laddish comment, so I challenged him to a Boxing match. I distracted him using my feminine know-how, and threw an uppercut to his six pack……… then he elbowed me in the jaw.”

 

Kane roars out a laugh. “Nice version! But you didn’t mention flashing at me!” He throws a cushion at my head.

 

“Flashing at you?” Storm smirks.

 

“Yeah, man. Not only was she trying to
box with me in a fucking bikini, then when we get ready to fight, she pulls her top away and flashes her breast at me. That’s when she got me with the uppercut!”

 

Storm and Dalton throw their heads back in laughter. Brains and I
knuckle a high five. Kane winks at me at the memory.

 

“So what happened then?” Brains urges further.

 

“Nothing!” Kane and I shout in unison, rather too quickly.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“Well, I’m hitting the sack. Six o’clock will be here too soon.” Dalton stretches out a long yawn and drains the last dregs of his beer out of the bottle.

 

“What time is it?” I screw my eyes, trying to focus on the tiny numbers on my wrist watch. I give up, and reach for my wine glass.

 

“Time I was going to bed too. That’s all I know.” Brains rolls herself out of her chair. “Oh, I might need a bit of a hand.” She giggles as she sways widely.

 

Storm steadies her with his large hand. He sweeps an arm around her waist, picking her up until all her limbs are wrapped around his vast body,
monkey style. She rests a weary head in the crook of his neck. “I’d better take this one up before she causes herself an injury trying to climb the stairs.” He chuckles.

 

We watch him carry her away with ease disappearing up the stairwell. Dalton follows close behind.

 

“I’m going to tidy up a bit. I can’t face this lot in the morning.” I gesture to Kane as I begin to gather armfuls of beer bottles. He says nothing in response as he joins in the clear up. “You don’t need to help. I’m alright with this.” I take some bottles out of his arms.

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