The Industry (17 page)

‘That's it,' she told him when a new character failed to reveal itself.

Desmond typed in the sequence and punched a little green button at the bottom of the security pad. With
a tiny beep the door unlocked and Desmond hauled it open.

‘Incredible,' he whispered, before drawing his gun and nosing it inside the truck at the two men who sat there looking terrified.

One was a security guard, spitting instructions hurriedly into a mobile phone. Desmond wasted no time in taking it from him, tossing it to the ground and flattening it beneath his foot. He then turned to Aguilar, who, despite his haggard face and bloodshot eyes, was younger than Kirra had imagined. Desmond reached for the guard's keys and uncuffed him. Aguilar, who seemed to have been expecting the intervention, jumped from the truck and watched Desmond lock the guard back inside. Desmond then escorted him to the green sedan, pushed him into the driver's seat and dropped the keys into his lap.

‘You're free,' Desmond said. ‘So drive.'

Aguilar, who was sweating profusely by this stage, didn't need to be told twice, slamming the door shut and fumbling to start the engine.

Amid all the commotion Kirra had failed to notice the other car on the highway that had quietly crept up on them, and when a gunshot rang through the air her heart nearly stopped.

Desmond, Anton and Fadil abandoned the transit truck and ran back to Kirra, taking cover beside the silver van. Aguilar, who had stalled the sedan in panic, now zoomed away. The two new arrivals, hanging from their car windows, started to shoot after him. Kirra knew they were definitely Latham's recruits, as she recognised both
of them from the factory. She watched with bated breath as Aguilar's car swerved dangerously, then dragged off to the side of the road where it rolled to a stop. Kirra could see a revolting explosion of red near the driver's seat and knew that Aguilar was dead.

For a single moment she felt relieved. Maybe the recruits were only after Aguilar for whatever reason, and not her? Maybe they would drive off and let them be? But when the two men reloaded their weapons and turned with unmistakable purpose towards the silver van, Kirra knew how ridiculous that notion was. They'd only killed Aguilar to get him out of the way.

Desmond, Fadil and Anton immediately opened fire on the recruits. Kirra stayed hunkered down out of sight. She had yet to see evidence of Latham, but knowing he'd sent the recruits was enough to terrify her. He knew where she was and it was only a matter of time until he recaptured her.

‘We can't let them take her!' Mai yelled, reloading her gun. Despite Fadil's look of warning she jumped out of the van and joined the firefight with gusto.

Anton grabbed Kirra by the shoulders and brought her to her feet. ‘Hi,' he said, thrusting a silver gun into her palm. ‘Once you've finished panicking you might want to give us a hand and try shooting someone. What do you think?' He didn't wait for an answer. ‘Excellent. The safety's off.'

Kirra gazed down at the weighty weapon in her hand, and then back at the four people fighting for her. Without another thought she peered around the van, spotted a recruit, gripped the gun with two hands, took aim, fired
and missed, the recoil reverberating down through her arms. She couldn't quite believe her first emotion was disappointment.

‘You might want to keep trying,' Anton urged, reloading his gun and shooting madly.

Kirra followed his lead. Finally, to her great surprise, she hit a recruit — though she acknowledged it was through spectacular luck rather than skill. He crumpled to the ground beside his car, motionless, and she stared at the body.

‘That's the way!' Anton roared gleefully. ‘Keep it up!'

She kept shooting until she was out of bullets, but it didn't matter because Mai had hit the other recruit. He was still alive, but clearly not for long, twitching compulsively on the ground and pressing his hand to his heart. Kirra fought the bizarre urge to cheer. She looked back at Desmond and Fadil, who were stowing their guns and climbing back into the van.

‘We need to go. Right now,' Desmond ordered. ‘More could be on their way.'

Kirra's face fell. She had almost expected to be congratulated.

She strapped herself into her seat, and Anton slumped down next to her, his eyes bright as he caught his breath. They sped away from the scene, rocketing along the highway for several kilometres before Anton let out a long, happy sigh.

‘Did you see that?' he asked the others.

No one paid him any attention.

‘Hello?' he called. ‘Did you see Kirra? She got a recruit, right in the face! Blood everywhere!'

‘We saw, Anton,' Mai said. ‘You did well, Kirra.'

‘Well? WELL?' Anton spluttered. ‘That's not even the word! She … she —'

‘Yes, yes, Anton, she's a natural,' Desmond said absentmindedly from the driver's seat. ‘She'll make a great Contractor one day.'

‘No,' Kirra said, not caring one bit if she killed the light-hearted mood, ‘I'll
never
be a part of this! Not ever.'

Anton slung his arm over her shoulder, chuckling. ‘Never?' he said, shoving her lightly. ‘Don't lie to yourself. You already are.'

After Aguilar's disastrous Extraction, it took Kirra a while to notice they were heading back to Madrid. She glanced at Desmond as they passed an enormous highway sign.

‘Uh … Desmond?' she murmured, pointing over her shoulder. ‘Desmond, Germany is that way.'

It seemed that Desmond hadn't heard her. He kept driving, eyes firmly ahead.

‘Desmond,' she said, louder this time. ‘Milo's in Dusseldorf. You need to turn around.'

No one answered her. Kirra caught Desmond and Mai exchanging a small, guilt-ridden glance. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

‘Why aren't we going to Dusseldorf?' she asked, her voice growing in volume.

‘Kirra,' Mai began, ‘it's not a good idea.'

Her heart plunged into her stomach. ‘What?' she breathed.

‘Don't get upset,' Mai said quickly. ‘You have to look at it from our perspective. We'd be walking into a death trap! A factory full of Latham's recruits? There's no sense in it.'

Kirra felt feverish all of a sudden. Sweat was gathering at her temples and her mouth was drying at an astonishing rate.

‘Desmond?' she said urgently, deciding to ignore Mai altogether. ‘What's going on?'

He caught her gaze in the rear-view mirror.

‘Kirra …' he began softly, though he didn't get to finish. Kirra was stunned when Fadil turned in his seat to face her for the first time, looking down his long nose, his gaze stoic.

‘There is no reason for us to risk our lives in Dusseldorf,' he said, his voice a low, impassive rumble. ‘We do not need this Milo Franklyn person. We will not be visiting Germany today.'

He turned back to face the road, assured that his was the final word on the matter.

Kirra stared at the back of his head, horror-struck. They weren't going to help her? They were going to leave Milo for dead? She wondered if they'd ever really considered the idea at all. Had it only been to trick her into cooperating? If things were reversed, if Milo was with these Contractors, these
traitors
, and Kirra was still at the factory, she knew what he would do. She knew exactly. He wouldn't stop until he had ensured her escape. He wouldn't stop until they were reunited again.

They had to take her back. They had to listen to her! There was nothing else for it. Kirra had never had a
tantrum before, but if there was ever a time for one, it was now.

Enraged, she twisted in her seatbelt. ‘NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!' she yelled, kicking the empty seat in front of her with enough force to cause a perturbing crunch within the upholstery. Anton winced and shifted away from her.

‘Settle down, Kirra,' he said uncomfortably. ‘There's nothing we can do.'

‘Please!' she said, realising she was not above begging. ‘Please! I'll do anything!
Anything!
'

With every moment they were travelling further and further away from Milo, and she was completely outnumbered. She had never felt so betrayed in all her life. Staring at the back of Desmond's head, she took a rasping breath. ‘Desmond! You promised!'

Mai turned to her. ‘We promised we'd do our best,' she corrected.

‘This is
not
your best!' Kirra fired back bitterly. ‘Desmond … you promised! I gave you what you wanted! Now help me! You promised!'

The car swerved into the emergency lane and came to an abrupt standstill. Desmond gripped the steering wheel tightly, gazing at Kirra in the rear-view mirror, his expression something close to shame. He sighed deeply.

Fadil glared at him.

‘Desmond,' he said warningly. ‘We agreed on this.'

Desmond rubbed his eyes. ‘I'm changing my mind,' he said. He spun the van around and headed for the French border.

Kirra was frozen in her seat, stunned into silence. She couldn't believe it. He had listened to her! She felt faint with relief.

Mai was very quiet. Fadil sat glaring ahead, his face dark. It was Anton who spoke first as he gazed out the window.

‘That was cool, Des,' he said quietly. ‘Very cool.'

 

The trip to Germany was long and, for the most part, silent. Desmond and Anton took turns driving, and stopped every few hours at roadside cafes. Kirra had a feeling Fadil did not elect to drive for the same reason Desmond failed to ask him. Perhaps if he did, he would turn around once again and drive them all away from Milo.

Mai nudged Kirra awake when they turned in to a hotel for the night. It was there she sat down with Kirra at a wobbly little table, free of her laptop for once.

‘This is going to be very dangerous,' she warned, her hands cradling a cup of tea. ‘You must be prepared for all possibilities.'

Kirra tried to find the scent of Lena's cheap perfume on the collar of her jacket. It was fading now. Soon it would be gone.

‘Yeah, I know the risks,' she said.

‘Things could go very wrong. Latham could recapture you, Kirra. It's not too late to call it off.'

‘If we aren't successful in rescuing him,' Kirra said, ‘I want you to leave me there.'

Mai stared at her. ‘You know we won't do that.'

‘If you were me, would you want to stay?'

Mai swallowed quickly. It was only after meeting
Fadil that Kirra had finally understood Mai's unexpected willingness to help her rescue Milo.

‘Kirra,' Mai began tentatively, ‘you're so young. Perhaps your feelings stem from your imprisonment. Perhaps in another life you wouldn't look twice at Milo.'

‘Maybe, but this isn't another life, is it?'

‘You're right,' Mai agreed. ‘But it's also the only one you have.'

 

Desmond, who had more knowledge of the factory than anyone else, Kirra included, drew a rough plan of the building. He showed Kirra the position of the cell, where the bathroom was and then along the passage to the graffiti room.

‘Whatever happens,' Desmond said over the table, ‘we cannot get separated. Latham has at least ten recruits on-site at any given time. Alone, we have no chance.'

Fadil, who had been sitting in silent disapproval, cleared his throat.

‘We really have no chance either way,' he declared. ‘This is the most senseless thing any of us has ever done.'

Kirra stared at the map uncomfortably. She was aware of the blatant risk, aware that these new acquaintances of hers were about to put their lives in serious danger, and she dearly wished she had been able to find some alternative. However, rescuing Milo was non-negotiable, and she had to use whatever resources came her way.

‘Kirra helped us when we asked for it,' Desmond said firmly, his eyes on Fadil.

Fadil's disdainful gaze coasted over Kirra. ‘Well, it wasn't particularly worthwhile,' he pointed out. ‘Or
perhaps you've forgotten, Desmond? Our assignment was shot in the head.'

‘Whatever the outcome of the Extraction, Kirra played her part. It's time for us to play ours.'

‘And who knows?' Anton added, rocking on two legs of his chair. ‘Pro bono work might be fun.'

Kirra stopped herself from rolling her eyes. As long as he bolstered their numbers, Anton could adopt whatever attitude he wished.

 

Much later, in the very dead of the night, Kirra stood in the dark at the window, watching two figures trudging up and down the street below. They repeated the process over and over, in no apparent hurry to get anywhere it seemed, every so often looking up at the buildings towering either side of them.

‘They're looking for you.'

Kirra jumped. She hadn't realised Desmond had arrived by her side.

‘Are you sure?' she whispered, her breath casting a light fog across the glass.

He nodded. ‘They've been doing a sweep of the whole area. They spotted the van before, but we outran them. They're Latham's. He's redoubled his search efforts.'

Kirra looked at him. They had been followed since their re-entry into Dusseldorf? She hadn't known that. Desmond must have been expecting it though, because he'd handled the pursuit so effortlessly that his passengers hadn't even noticed. She shuffled slightly towards him, standing in his shadow.

‘How did Latham know where I was? How did he
know we were Extracting Aguilar? Or that we were at the Ruiz bar?'

‘I've been thinking about that,' Desmond said. ‘Maybe someone at the MIO informed him? My best guess is that they might have bugged my phone whilst I was posing as Wyles. It's all I can think of. The phone's been destroyed, so they won't be able to locate us so accurately again.'

‘Destroyed?'

‘I broke it apart and flushed it down a toilet.'

He smiled at her expression. ‘What?' he said. ‘I challenge you to come up with something more effective than a toilet.'

They stood together for a moment, both smiling in the dark, until the two figures regained their attention.

‘I really wish I'd known,' Kirra said softly after a moment.

‘Known what?'

‘That Wyles was really you all that time.'

‘What kind of difference would it have made?' he asked.

She shrugged. ‘You were really decent to us,' she said. ‘To me.'

Desmond watched the two men double back once more, his face suddenly dark.

‘I could never stop Balcescu and his drug,' he said softly. ‘The one time I discouraged it they became suspicious. I couldn't afford to be scrutinised, or I would have had to give up the assignment. I'm sorry.'

‘Don't apologise,' Kirra said hurriedly, annoyed that the conversation had taken this morose turn.

For her, being reminded of the regular cruelty at the factory was almost worse than experiencing it in the first place; the memory made more humiliating by the fact that Desmond seemed to want to blame himself for something he'd had no power over. In fact, Kirra was thrilled he had never attempted to intervene. If he had, they would probably have disposed of him, just as they'd disposed of Lena, and Kirra would still be a prisoner at the factory, forced to help Latham week after week. At least this way she was free and had access to resources that would help free Milo too.

‘How long exactly has the Industry been active?' she asked, to change the subject.

Desmond grinned at her. ‘Active?' he echoed, chuckling at what Kirra had thought to be an appropriate term.

She clenched her jaw. ‘How long has it been going on for then?'

‘Crime is hardly a modern invention,' he said. ‘However, the first ever record of an organised, united community was a century ago. Before that it was every man for himself.'

‘A century ago? Really?'

‘Sure. It was mostly thievery and con-artistry back then,' he said. ‘Why so interested? I thought you didn't want anything to do with the Industry.'

‘I don't,' she assured him irritably. ‘It's just … weird, isn't it? My whole life I've heard nothing about it.'

‘Yeah, well, frankly that doesn't surprise me. Your entire life has spanned sixteen years, and you've spent most of it holed up in a classroom learning … Well, whatever it is you've been learning.'

‘With all that goes on,' she continued, partially ignoring him, ‘you'd think someone would have noticed something. Someone might've picked up on it, at least.'

‘We hardly publicise its existence,' he told her. Those who hire us can see it at work, but they're never going to tell anyone, because they'd be telling on themselves at the same time.'

The two men crossed the road below, and Kirra thought they might have even looked up at the very window she was hiding behind.

‘Do you think I'll ever get away from it?' she said.

She heard Desmond take a deep, deliberating breath.

‘I hope you will,' he said. ‘I really do. The thing is … the longer you're involved in it, the harder it is to get out. So let me give you this advice: the very second you recognise such an opportunity, take it. Passage in and out of our community is enormously complicated, but you're yet to make any sort of voluntary commitment to it. You could, with any luck, make a clean departure one day.'

She wondered if she'd just imagined the tone of envy in Desmond's voice. She looked back down at the men on the street.

‘They'll move on shortly,' he promised her, turning away.

The pair reached the end of the road, and stood beneath a streetlight, gazing into the distance as though trying to decide whether or not to give up on this particular street and go scour the next.

‘For now, though,' Desmond added, ‘stay away from the window.'

 

The next night, Kirra found herself sitting in the silver van outside the factory in Dusseldorf. Fadil and Mai were loading their guns and accessorising themselves with ammunition, speaking Arabic together in low voices. They had gifted Kirra with her own handgun and additional ammunition, which she now tucked into the inside pocket of Lena's jacket, mentally running through the quick reloading tutorial Anton had given her. She hoped she wouldn't have to use the gun, but she was more than prepared to if the need arose.

Desmond and Anton were going over the plan one last time. Kirra, who knew it by heart, returned her attention to the structure before them. The factory was a huge, flat-roofed building amongst a jungle of rundown warehouses. The narrow street was empty save for a couple of cars and a dim streetlight, and the only sound was the buzzing of traffic from a distant freeway. Milo was in there somewhere, sprawled in the cell they had shared for so many months. Kirra wondered if he was thinking of her, trying to guess where she might be and if she was alright. She felt her heart flutter slightly, the prospect of being this close to him thrilling her to the core. Of course, this giddy feeling was shrouded by another very different one. Fear.

No one else seemed scared. Desmond and Anton appeared unruffled as they discussed final details; Mai and Fadil even shared a private smile, as though they were about to head out to do a bit of shopping, not to carry out a risky, unpaid Extraction. Kirra was terror-
stricken. What if it all went wrong? What if Latham caught them? What if Milo was killed before they could save him? What if she was killed?