The Child Taker & Slow Burn (6 page)

Chapter Seven

The child taker could not have planned it better. He approached the back of the tent where the beautiful twins were sleeping and he smiled a crooked smile as the sound of Louise reaching her orgasm reached him from the tent next door. She was noisy, that was for sure. It reminded him of his first night in the guardianship of a Catholic priest, known to the children as Father Paul. When he was first taken to the boys’ home, and the social workers had left, Father Paul had taken him to his office, where was forced to strip naked while the priest watched him. Then Father Paul had bent him over the desk and beaten him with a leather-soled slipper.

“You’ve been sent here so that I can save your wicked soul,” the priest had ranted as he spanked him with the slipper. “Say I’m a wicked boy, Father Paul,” he instructed him.

“Please don’t hit me, Father Paul,” he had sobbed between the blows. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Shut up you wicked boy, now repeat after me: I’m a wicked boy, Father Paul.” Each word brought a fresh blow to his reddening buttocks. Each blow brought stinging tears to his eyes. He was supposed to be safe here; safe from his stepfather’s beatings, but now he was being beaten by the man who was meant to protect him.

“Ow! I’m a wicked boy, Father Paul,” he cried. Unfortunately, the beating had continued, and was merely the prelude to severe sexual abuse that was repeated every night for as long as he could remember. Eventually Father Paul identified a younger boy to receive his particular brand of salvation and the abuse became less frequent, although it never stopped. The worst thing was the shame of returning to the dormitory. All the other boys knew what Father Paul did to you in his office, and each of them suffered his abuse at some stage in their miserable lives. The priest made the boys say things while he buggered them, the noisier the better. Louise cried out from the next-door tent and his thoughts returned to the task at hand.

He licked his crooked teeth as he knelt next to the tent wall. The twins’ father was climbing into the woods opposite, and the mother had driven off somewhere in the car. The situation was perfect. He took a razor sharp blade from his pocket and sliced a cross through the canvas with two deft cuts. In seconds, he was inside the tent and next to the sleeping children. His heart quickened and he had to take a deep breath to calm his breathing down. He could hear their gentle snoring in the darkness. They were sleeping face to face, which was ideal for what he had in mind. The child taker removed a plastic sandwich bag from his pocket. Inside it was a tissue soaked with chloroform; he took it from the bag and placed it beneath the noses of the twins. Within seconds, their breathing had slowed further still as they slipped into unconsciousness. He grabbed the edges of the sleeping bag and gathered them up into his arms. The groaning in the tent next door was reaching fever pitch as he carried the children out of the tent and into the woods.

Chapter Eight

Hayley indicated and turned the estate car into the campsite. The headlights swept across the open ground between the two clumps of trees that bordered the site. Flying insects of every description hurtled towards the light and splattered across the windscreen. Karl was half way between the trees and the tent, carrying a square object in his hand. He was two hundred yards away but it looked to Hayley as if he was holding a stereo speaker. A chill ran down her spine. What was he doing?

Hayley rounded a small hump and their tents came into full view, illuminated by the headlights. There was no sign of Louise or Steve and the barbecue was nothing but a dull glow. Karl waved at her as she approached the camp.

“Where have you been?” Hayley opened the door and climbed out of the BMW.

“You would not believe me if I told you,” Karl moaned. Hayley noticed blood running from a small cut on his leg, and scratches around his shins and ankles. “Someone is well out of order, their idea of a sick joke.” He held up the speaker.

“What are you talking about, Karl?”

“The baby crying before you left, well it got worse, and there was a woman screaming too.” He held the speaker up again. “I went to help and found this in the woods.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s a speaker.” Karl replied sarcastically. “Somebody is taking the piss.”

“A speaker?”

“Yes, a speaker. The baby crying was coming from this.”

“Why would someone do that?”

“I don’t know. Probably kids arsing around. I bet they’ve had a right laugh watching me clawing my way through the bushes over there.”

“Kids wouldn’t do that, Karl.”

“Well who else would do something like that?”

Hayley could only think of one reason why anyone would do that and the blood drained from her face. “Did you leave the twins alone?”

“Only for a minute.”

“You fucking idiot.”

“Don’t swear at me!” Karl snapped. “You’re determined to ruin this trip with your moods.”

Her fist clenched tight around the car keys and her knuckles went white. She had read about a serial rapist in America who used recordings of babies crying to lure women out of their homes. Hayley stared past her husband at their tent. She pictured the twins sleeping safely in her mind’s eye but her gut instinct was telling her something was wrong.

“What’s the matter, Hayley?” Karl was alarmed by the look on her face.

“The twins,” she murmured. She couldn’t speak properly and her legs were frozen with fear. She literally couldn’t move as her body was filled with dread.

“What do you mean?”

“The twins,” she repeated, still frozen.

The tent next door wobbled and the flysheet unzipped loudly. Steve and Louise stumbled out half-dressed.

“What’s the matter you two?” Steve asked. Louise yawned and looked disinterested. Hayley managed to gain control of herself as she walked towards the tent nervously. Karl followed suit and realised her concern was for the children.

“They’re sleeping darling, don’t worry,” he reassured himself more than anyone else.

Hayley reached down and pulled the zip upward. She lifted the entrance flap up. The interior was inky black and she couldn’t see anything at first. She reached for the battery lantern and pulled her hand away quickly when she felt bugs crawling all over it.

“Shit!” She hissed.

“What?” Karl asked.

“Put the light on. Put the fucking light on!”

Karl reached for the lamp, found the button and flicked it on. Hayley gasped and drew a deep breath. Karl’s voice stuck in his throat as he took in the scene. He stared at the speaker in his hand as realisation hit home. His knees wobbled and he folded onto the floor. Louise and Steve leaned into the tent.

“Oh my God!” Steve whispered under his breath. The back of the tent hung in tattered flaps, a cold breeze moved the material gently. The tent was empty. Their twins were gone, of that there was no doubt; someone had cut their way into the tent to kidnap them. Karl’s life flashed before his eyes as he thought about the type of people that could stage a kidnap such as this. He thought about news stories and about what they took children for and his stomach contracted. Thick yellow bile sprayed the floor as he vomited and the strong acidic taste made him vomit again. Hayley screamed from the pit of her soul and it was the worst sound a cheating husband could ever hear.

Chapter Nine

Mogadishu

Major Timms and his task force watched the live feed transmitting images recorded by an unmanned Predator drone. It had launched a Hellfire missile strike against the souk when Tank and his unit were a safe distance away. The old marketplace was ripped to pieces by the initial explosion, and was then rocked by a series of subsequent explosions, which indicated that a large cache of weapons and munitions were stored in the ancient building. The consensus was that it was indeed the headquarters of the pirate warlord, Said Adid, and that he was no longer an issue.

“Another job well done.” the Major turned the pictures off. “We’ll be transported by Chinook at 0800 tomorrow to a friendly airbase in Ethiopia and then back to the UK from there. You’ll be back in your own beds by Tuesday.”

“Roger that,” Tank said. He slapped a colleague on the back with his huge hand, a little too hard. “Sounds like beer time to me.”

“Absolutely, ladies and gentlemen. Please make your way to the mess, where you’ll find that our American hosts have laid on a selection of their finest fare and a few cases of Budweiser for your enjoyment.” The Major opened the debriefing room door and the unit filtered out into the corridor. Everyone was buzzing with the adrenalin of completing a successful operation – everyone except the unit’s number three. He was leaning against the carrier’s bulkhead with one knee raised behind him and his arms folded. Tank caught his eye and his number three met his gaze and held it. The Major spotted the silent standoff and stepped in.

“Is there a problem here, Adams?” The Major took his number three by the elbow and guided him away from the others. The debriefing room was emptying fast and Tank waited until the others had gone before closing the door and turning to face his accuser.

“Yes, Major. I have a problem with leaving eyewitnesses behind when it’s a clear breach of protocol.” Adams flushed red as he spoke. He knew that his behaviour in the field would be questioned when the unit arrived back at base, and he thought it was best to put his side forward before anyone else did.

“This is the Terrorist Task Force – we don’t have protocol.” Tank laughed as he spoke but Adams could see the venom in his eyes was very real. “When were you told that we kill kids?”

“He was an armed militia member, it doesn’t matter how old he was.”

“Oh it matters all right.” Tank stepped closer to him, aggression flaring in his eyes. Adams wouldn’t last two seconds against a giant like Tank and he knew it. “You see that’s the difference between us and them Adams: we can take out the bad guys without becoming like them.”   

“I’ll deal with this John, please go and join your unit,” the Major said without looking at him. Tank smiled at Adams and turned towards the door. There was no love lost between the two men. Tank didn’t rate him and Adams knew that. It was only a matter of time before he was dumped back into the regular army, which was something that he was desperately trying to avoid.

“He compromised the mission, Sir. The boy could have escaped and alerted the militia to our presence in the city.” Adams dived in at the deep end.

“I’ll be straight with you, Adams: I wanted you to be given your papers months ago. You’re a good soldier, but you’re not a team player and the whole unit knows that. John Tankersley was the one who wanted to give you another chance and he picked you for that operation to see how you would respond to extreme pressure. Unfortunately you have shown your true colours and as such I’ll be arranging for you to be transferred back to your regiment on our return.”

“I followed procedure, Sir, Tankersley didn’t,” Adams snapped.

“John Tankersley is the best soldier in the best unit in the best army on the planet, Adams, and you’re not even the best soldier in this room at the moment. You’re dismissed.” The Major brushed past him and opened the door. “Join the others for the refreshments. I’ll keep my decision secret until we reach base to keep you from any embarrassment.”

Adams frowned and stepped out of the room into the grey metal corridor. It was one of thousands of corridors which made up nearly two hundred kilometres below deck. They threaded their way through the huge aircraft carrier. The Major followed behind Adams and walked with a spring in his step, as a good paratrooper should.

“It’s a fabulous vessel this, don’t you think?” The Major made chitchat as they walked as if nothing had happened.

“I haven’t really thought about it, Major.”

“Did you know that she has two nuclear reactors which power her and she doesn’t need to be refuelled for twenty years? Amazing.” The Major shook his head at the ingenuity of the engineers.

“Fascinating, Major.”

“Fascinating indeed, Adams, now let’s have that beer.” They entered the mess hall which was only one of seventeen others. It was filled with enough long tables to seat five hundred service men at one sitting. The task force members sat to the right hand side of the mess hall. Some of them were sitting down and talking excitedly across the long table, while others were gathered beneath a flat screen television, watching the football results from home.

“Any results?” The Major asked as he helped himself to a cold Budweiser.

“Liverpool beat Chelsea four nil again,” Grace replied. The sport finished and a review of the main news was playing. Tank looked at the Major to see if there was anything he wanted to say about Adams but he remained impassive. There would be time for all that when they got back to base.

“Have you got any fishing trips planned when we get home, Major?” Grace made conversation.

The Major was focused on the news and he didn’t reply. Grace followed his gaze and noted the picture of two blond children on the screen. There was a news conference being set up, with a blown-up picture of the children behind it. A distraught woman was talking silently to the cameras because the volume was turned down and her red-eyed partner was seated next to her, but an unusual distance away. They didn’t appear to be united in their grief.

“Major, have you got any fishing trips planned?”

“Be quiet, turn up the volume on the television.” The Major raised his voice and everyone stopped talking.

“What?”

“I said turn up the volume on the television.” The muscles in his jaw line were pulsating wildly and he had a panicked look on his face. The volume was turned up and the last few words of a distraught mother’s appeal for her children to be returned to her played out across the mess hall.

“Jesus Christ Almighty!” The Major looked like he was going to fall over. His mouth was open, as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find his voice. His face turned ashen and his eyes glazed over with a liquid film. He reached for the table in front of him for support, the muscles in his wiry arms standing firm beneath the skin.

“What is it, Major?” Tank moved to his side and poured a glass of iced water.

“Jesus Christ Almighty!” The Major whispered as he looked around at the stirring faces. He felt like he was in a terrible dream, one from which he had to escape from at all costs, but his limbs were filled with concrete and he couldn’t run away.

“What happened then?” Tank asked Grace but she just frowned and shook her head.

“He was watching the news then he flipped,” she replied quietly. She touched the Major’s shoulder tenderly, his shoulders sagging beneath her touch.

“Major, what’s wrong?”

“The missing twins on the news… I have to get home immediately,” he rambled. The colour was returning to his cheeks and he seemed to stiffen up as he composed himself.

“I don’t understand, Major,” Tank said. He looked at the screen and recognised the woman immediately. His eyes widened in shock as he digested the headlines at the bottom of the screen.

“The missing twins that were on the news… The woman making the appeal was my daughter, Hayley, and the twins are my grandchildren.”