The Gods' Gambit (32 page)

James looked at Irina and Lao. They nodded. This point had
been cleared between them. He had to be firm. If the kidnappers didn’t agree to
this, it would mean that Malee’s death sentence had been signed. “No. He comes
with me. That’s not negotiable.”

The man delayed his response. He was probably consulting
with somebody. “The old man can come,” he said eventually. “If either of you
don’t follow my orders, she’ll scream and writhe in pain.”

* * *

James reversed the Land Rover very close to his front door
and opened the rear door. Irina slipped into a previously prepared place in the
luggage compartment and closed the door behind her. If the house was under
surveillance, her movement would go unnoticed. Lao sat in the front seat and
James drove off.

Just before the Southampton turning they received brief instructions
to continue ahead for Devon.

Almost three hours had passed since their departure before
the metallic voice told them to take an exit into a side road. Several
kilometres further on they received new instructions. They were to turn into a
lane going through slightly hilly woodland. It was dark and James was driving
with the headlights on. A car had been following them at a distance for some
time, but suddenly its lights went off.

Another incoming call brought the last instruction. “You’ll
see a sign on the left for Preston Industrial Estate. Turn in there. Stop at
the first warehouse and turn off the lights.”

The no-through road was about two hundred metres long. The
Land Rover’s headlights illuminated three huge warehouses on a flat grassy
square area surrounded by a two-metre-high wire fence. Woodland bordered two
sides of the square, tree branches reaching over the fence. Beyond the other
two sides, a vast meadow stretched into the darkness. There were no lights on
anywhere in the industrial estate.

Irina had moved into the rear seat. She was looking around
through both side windows. “James, drive slowly, as close as possible to the
trees,” she said. “I’ll jump out and use the cover of the woods. I’ll take
position opposite the warehouse entrance.”

James did as she had asked. Irina got out, closed the door
silently and dived into the dark wall of the forest.

The gate of the industrial estate was wide open. Slowly,
James drove the Land Rover through the gate and continued to the first
warehouse. The building seemed to have been neglected for a long time. A rusty
sign about MOT checks on different types of vehicles hung on the door.
Obviously, some time ago, the building had been used as a garage.

James drove in a big S-shape while he and Lao scanned the
area. As far as they could see, there was nobody around. He stopped at the
building’s entrance and turned off the lights.

* * *

Irina waited until her eyes got accustomed to the darkness,
and then walked ahead. She kept close to the woodland’s edge where, with the
help of the moonlight, she could more or less see where she was placing her
feet. She advanced slowly and carefully. The noise from any broken branch would
be heard clearly in the stillness of the night. She allowed herself to walk at
a good pace while the engine of James’ car was still running. After that she
slowed down. She calculated that three to four minutes more were necessary for
her to get to her intended position.

She began climbing a slight bank. The thick blanket of
fallen leaves was wet and slippery. She had to slow down even more to avoid
falling. She had reached the middle of the bank when a small, dim flashing
light ahead caught her attention. She focused on the area where she had seen
it. Somebody was standing there. For a moment it looked like a figure was
leaning against a tree, but the shape melted into the darkness. She needed to
get a bit closer to get a better look. With even more care she moved forward.
It had not been an illusion. About fifteen metres ahead was a man. Like her, he
was standing just behind the first line of trees facing the industrial estate.
Irina discerned a rifle with a telescopic sight fixed on a stand next to him.
The rifle was quite long, maybe two metres. The moonlight shone on the silvery
metal and reflected a murky gleam.

Irina realised it was an ambush. There was a high
probability that more snipers were hidden in the forest. They had clear sight
of James and Lao’s position. Again, she regretted that she didn’t have the
usual technical equipment designed for field operations, which would have
provided them with a better chance of escaping the trap. The only thing she had
at her disposal was the portable listening-in system, which she owned
personally. She had pinned a microphone to James’ clothes and could hear him,
but they didn’t have a two-way connection. She feared that if James and Lao got
out of the car, Lao would be shot and James captured. James had brought Lao’s
hunting rifle, but it wouldn’t do him much good.

She had to warn James and Lao immediately. She sheltered
behind a big tree and slowly unzipped her jacket, trying not to make any noise.
She covered her mobile with the jacket and texted James: ‘Ambush. Snipers in
the woods. Take cover behind the rear side of the warehouse.’ She hit ‘send’
and put her phone back in her pocket. Suddenly, she heard the roar of car
engines. Soon after, three cars appeared in the lane heading towards the
industrial estate.

Irina moved to take better cover from their beaming
headlights. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. James could surely
see the cars, but he wouldn’t be able to act to avoid the situation if he
didn’t read her text. In that case, he and Lao wouldn’t stand a chance.

She heard the Land Rover fire up and saw it move behind the
warehouse where it would be protected from the snipers. She sighed with relief.
For the time being, James and Lao had avoided the immediate danger.

Preston Industrial Estate, Devon, UK

The three cars entered the fenced area of Preston Industrial
Estate, manoeuvred themselves to form a row with several metres distance
between them and stopped. Their headlights shone on the parked Land Rover.

James’ mobile rang.

“Wrong move,” said the metallic voice. “You shouldn’t have
moved the car—”

James cut him short. “Leave the bullshit. I’m here. I want
to see Malee.”

The phone was silent. The headlights of the cars either side
were switched off; only the lights of the car in the middle stayed on. Sounds of
car doors opening could be heard. Men dressed in dark clothes and mackintoshes
began walking to the front of the cars. James counted sixteen. Some of them
carried handguns and machine guns – all the weapons were fitted with silencers.

One of the gang, a tall, well-built man, lifted hand to his
mouth. That was the man on the phone. “Get out of the car,” he said, and hung
up. The sixteen men advanced slowly, keeping their formation.

James and Lao got out of the car but stood behind the open
doors. James was holding the hunting rifle. “Stay where you are or I’ll shoot,”
he said, his voice cutting.

The leader of the gang – the one who had spoken on the phone
– lifted his arm. The men stopped. He took a step forwards, shook his head and
laughed with unpleasant, bubbling laughter. “My men will riddle you with holes
in a matter of seconds,” he said.

“You don’t need me dead,” James responded. “Where’s Malee?”

“Clive,” the leader shouted in the direction of the three
cars, “get the girl out.”

A man walked out into the light of the headlights pushing a
small, thin female figure in front of him. The figure’s head was covered by a
black bag and her hands were tightly bound.

“I’ll bring her halfway. You come to us and I’ll let her
go,” said the leader.

“Malee!” Lao shouted. “Take that thing off her head!”

“Shut up!” the leader shrieked. His voice sounded angry and
somehow wild. “I’ll blast her head off right now for you to watch.” He cocked
his gun demonstratively and pointed the barrel at the woman’s head. With a
swift movement he then turned the gun towards James and Lao. His men followed
his example. “What’s it going to be?” he asked, his tone now completely calm.

“Keep aiming at him. Shoot him if necessary,” James said to
Lao and handed him the hunting rifle.

The leader stepped back, took the woman and dragged her
about fifteen steps forwards. He raised the gun and held it at her head.

“James, it’s a trap,” whispered Lao.

“We can’t be sure,” said James and walked forwards.

“The selfless saviour,” said the leader sarcastically and
gave a short burst of his repugnant laughter.

James stopped a few steps from them. “Take that bag off her
head and let her go,” he said.

“At your service,” said the leader with more sarcasm. He
pulled off the bag and threw it on the ground. The woman’s head was lowered.
Her long hair was dishevelled and covered her face. “We gave her a
tranquilliser because she was naughty,” he said and pushed her toward James.

“Damned bastard,” cursed James as he moved forward to catch
her by the shoulders. The moment he touched her, he realised it was not Malee.

The woman abruptly flung back her hair. She had thin, sharp
features. Although the lights were behind her, James could see that her
expression was malicious and insolent. “Surprise,” she said mockingly.

With unexpected speed and skill, she threw a punch at James’
jaw. His trained reflex kicked in automatically. He stood back but not fast
enough. The small bony fist reached its target and he reeled. Her second punch
was aimed at his throat. At that very moment, James could see what was
happening around him. He saw the leader rushing upon him with the gun raised to
strike him. At the same time something like a gust of wind passed him. It was
Lao running, or rather flying, toward the armed gang. Some men in the line were
lifting their weapons to shoot at him. James saw that he wasn’t carrying the
rifle. He had probably thrown it away and was now rushing in desperation
against the gang, relying on his boxing skills.

James parried the punch coming towards his throat and did
something he had never done before in his life – he hit a woman. His fist
landed on her cheekbone and she passed out on her way to the ground. With the
same hand he had knocked down the woman with, he blocked the incoming blow of
the leader, and with the other hand knocked away the gun he was holding. The
leader escaped James’ next punch and then it was his turn to attack. But he
didn’t have James’ class in hand-to-hand fighting. James kicked him in the
chest and threw him backwards. With an expression of pain, the leader placed
one hand on his chest and with the other he reached under his mackintosh and
took out a strange pistol with three barrels. James delivered another swiping
kick at his hand and the pistol flew several steps away. Another kick in the
leader’s head made him fall dizzy to the ground.

At the same time, four men ran towards James. They had to
cross several metres’ distance and that gave him time to scan the situation. A
few bodies dressed in black writhed on the ground. Lao had struck them down as
he passed them like a storm. Apart from the ones running towards James, four
men were still standing, their backs turned to him, their guns twitching and
throwing off shells. Seeing that they were shooting at their cars, James realised
what was going on. Lao was there. He was checking if Malee was somewhere in the
cars. How he had got through the line of armed men and how he had knocked down
some of them without being shot was inexplicable. However, James didn’t have
time to think about that. The four men attacked him simultaneously. One of them
was a step ahead. James dived beneath his arm and hit the attackers’ carotid
artery with the side of his hand. The man sprawled, face down on the ground.
James collided with the others. They were big and obviously trained in
man-to-man combat. A swift exchange of blows ensued. James avoided, or
softened, most of the blows, but some reached their mark. He was outnumbered
and he would soon be defeated if something did not change. He aimed a combination
of different punches at one of the men and managed to break his defence. One of
James’ cross-counters hit his jaw and he was knocked out. But James received
several blows as well. He was forced to step back. For a fraction of a second
he darted a look at the gang’s cars. He saw Lao come out from among them and
head towards the people who were still shooting at him. He leaped, zigzagging
with a speed that James had never suspected he was capable of. His movements
resembled a speeded-up film.

Transfixed by this sight, James noticed too late the fist
approaching his face. He succeeded in partially avoiding it, but the blow shook
up his head and stars and lights appeared in front of his eyes. However, the
punch made the attacker sway and his right side became unprotected. James
reacted instinctively. The blow reached the man’s temporal bone and he came
down. The last attacker standing roared and jumped on James in a rage. James
warded off the blows. In his anger, the man forgot to pay attention to his
defence. James took advantage of that. He placed a strong kick just beneath his
ribs and threw him backwards, doubled up with pain. At the same moment, James
felt something prick his side. He looked down and saw three syringes. He heard
the familiar bubbling laughter. The leader was kneeling on one knee grinning at
him and holding the strange three-barrelled pistol in his hand. James pulled
out the syringes and threw them away, but almost immediately he felt
overwhelmed by a sensation of heat.

The drug they used on Costov is now in my body, he thought.

He would not allow them to triumph. He reached into his
pocket and grabbed the pellet containing Lao’s poison between the tips of his
fingers. He tried to take his hand out of his pocket, but it became entangled
in his clothes.