Perdition's Daughters, page 17
Daniel stopped in the centre of the huge entrance hall and waited, letting Mertz walk on towards the security room.
Daniel was alone. He turned a slow full circle. The castle was quiet and empty once more. The other men were out, completing whatever duties they had been assigned, watching TV or sleeping in their rooms. He crossed quickly to the wall, placed his feet and hands on the appropriate stones and pushed. The door rolled silently open. He stepped inside, waited for the wall to close, then edged his way forward. There was a dull light emanating from the stairway; nothing more than a pale glow, but more than enough to see by. He peered down the stairs. There was no one there. Cautiously he descended, treading lightly, his rubber-soled boots making no sound on the stone steps. Reaching the bottom, he moved quietly into a square hall, stopped, looked and listened carefully.
Corridors led off, left and right and another dead ahead. Men’s voices came from somewhere within the labyrinth of corridors, but he couldn’t quite place the direction or distance.
He took the first left-hand corridor. The voices faded. The passageway led down to the castle’s plant room. A huge, modern generator sat quietly pumping out the power required to run the castle, surrounded by boilers, pipes, monitors, valves and gauges. Daniel backed out of the room and returned to the hall. The voices were still there, eerily echoing through the passageways. He disappeared down the opposite long, dark corridor. The voices faded again. There were doors and rooms left and right. He checked each one. They were storerooms, each piled high with equipment, clothes, bedding, food and provisions; everything Kozlov, his men and any potential guests might need.
Daniel returned to the hall. Time was ticking away. He moved swiftly down the next passageway. Other corridors ran off from it. He went straight on, coming to two identical doors – metal doors – cell doors, one either side of the passage. He peered through the door on his left. Two young girls sat closely together, talking quietly on one of the beds. They had long dark hair and were dressed in jeans and sweaters. He didn’t recognise them and turned away; they weren’t his concern. He stepped across to the opposite door and peered through the spyhole. The scene was the same. Two girls sat on a bed, holding hands, talking quietly – Elizabeth and Jennifer.
SEVENTEEN
Karl Mertz entered the security room, greeting Oleg warmly. The two men had worked well together since Karl had joined Kozlov’s operation eighteen months earlier.
‘What do you know of this Kuznetsov character, Oleg?’ Mertz asked.
‘Not much. He only arrived a couple of days ago. He beat all of the security systems and ended up in Kozlov’s bedroom; could have killed him. Instead, he handed over his weapons and asked for a job. Can you believe that?’
‘Kozlov didn’t kill him?’
‘No. He seemed pretty impressed. Came down here though, ranting and raving. You know how he can be.’
‘Yes, I know. You OK?’
‘I’m alright. He slapped me around a little – told me to make sure it never happened again. He was pretty angry, but not like I’ve seen him before. At least he didn’t take a hatchet to my head. He beat a guy to death – Pavel, you remember him? Made a horrible mess; beat his face to a pulp, then stamped on him, cracked his skull wide open.’
‘Pavel?’ he questioned. ‘Yes, I remember him, what did he do?’
‘I don’t know. I just heard Kozlov ranting about how he had failed him once too often. Next thing they were dragging his body away. I couldn’t recognise the face. I only found out it was Pavel when one of the guards told me. They’re all scared, you know.’
‘I know. What’s happened since Kuznetsov arrived?’
‘Kozlov initially said Kuznetsov was here by invitation, testing the security. The next morning he admitted what really happened. Taras wasn’t very happy. He doesn’t like Danil, doesn’t trust him.’
‘Danil?’
‘Yeah, that’s Kuznetsov first name. He seems OK to me. He showed me and Taras how he got in and helped me change the systems so it can’t happen again. You wouldn’t do that if you weren’t on the level, would you?’
‘Danil,’ Mertz said again, thoughtfully. The colour suddenly drained from his face in realisation.
‘What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘No, no ghost. This man is very much alive. Thanks, Oleg. I’ll talk to you later, OK?’ Mertz said rapidly disappearing out of the door.
Daniel peered through the spyhole, relief and compassion washing through his body. The girls were alive and well. They looked pale and drawn; evidence of their harrowing experience etched into their faces, but they seemed to be otherwise unhurt.
The sound of men’s voices grew suddenly louder. Heavy footsteps echoed through the underground passageways – footsteps coming Daniel’s way. He listened hard. The footsteps drew closer. Time was running out.
He tapped at the door, but the sound barely carried through the thick steel.
The girls stopped talking and looked up at the door, confused and uncertain. None of the men would bother to knock. They sat still and silent. The knock came again. A little louder. A little more urgent.
The voices and footsteps were close now. Four men, two Russian, two Daniel couldn’t quite place from their accents. They were coming across the hall, possibly already in the corridor – Daniel’s corridor, heading straight for him.
Elizabeth crossed the room.
‘Who’s there?’ she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.
There was no reply.
‘Hello?’ she called again, questioningly.
The key rattled and turned in the lock.
The door opened.
Timur stood angrily in the doorway.
‘Who were you talking to?’ he demanded.
‘No one,’ Elizabeth denied.
The blow from Timur was stunning and vicious, sending Elizabeth sprawling across the floor. Blood flowed from her mouth and nose.
Jennifer dropped to her knees from the bed, aiding her sister.
‘Don’t lie to me and say Sir when you speak,’ Timur ranted.
‘I was just calling out. I wanted to use the toilet. Please may I use the toilet, Sir?’
Daniel moved quickly down the corridor. The footsteps carried on behind him. One man stopped at the cell door he heard the key in the lock. The others continued on. Daniel continued, swiftly and silently, until he ran into a series of washrooms, an open shower area and toilet cubicles. He stopped and looked around. There was nowhere to hide. No way out. The men followed, their footsteps growing louder, in ten seconds, maybe less, they would see him. His eyes darted around the rooms. There was one route left. He ran into the empty passageway. It was dark – much darker than the others. Then the passage stopped, opening into a plain square storage area, lined with solid wooden shelves that were stacked with clothing, towels and wash gear. A dead end.
Daniel looked around the room, urgently searching for another door. The men were still there, still coming. In desperation, he looked up. The ceiling between the passageway and storage room was high. Set at different levels, it rose, ran a short distance, then dropped again, forming a dark recess six feet wide and three feet deep.
Daniel climbed the shelving until his head and shoulders disappeared into the ceiling recess. He ran his hands over the rock; it was cracked and rough.
The footsteps grew louder. The men were seconds from the room.
Daniel gripped the wall, swung his legs in the dark once, twice, three times. His feet hit the ceiling and wedged into place. He pushed out hard with his hands and feet and lay suspended in the darkness, facing down over the entrance.
The men walked in, flicking on a single light. The bare bulb shone dimly in the centre of the room, giving just enough light to see by.
Timur stared angrily at Elizabeth.
‘There’s a bucket in the corner, use that,’ he replied unsympathetically as Jennifer helped Elizabeth to her feet.
Elizabeth looked at him with feigned embarrassment.
‘Please. I, I have my period. Please let me use the toilet, Sir,’ she begged.
Timur paused for a moment and his face softened, he seemed to like Elizabeth’s submissive and obedient response. He nodded and stood back from the door.
‘Bring what you need, be quick.’
Elizabeth grabbed her wash bag and followed Timur out of the door, leaving Jennifer behind, sitting passively on the bed and staring nervously into the corridor.
Mirsad and Damir walked down the rows of shelves, grabbing new clothing – plain fatigues, jeans, sweatshirts, socks and underwear – under Petr’s guidance. Kozlov was generous to his men. Durakovic made them buy their own.
Daniel watched them, mentally urging them to go faster. His arms and legs pushed hard against the walls, his muscles straining from holding the suspended weight of his body.
The men looked up and down the shelves, taking their time. It wasn’t often they got a free selection of clothing.
Daniel’s arms and legs began to shake. The sweat beaded on his forehead, ran down his face and formed droplets on his chin.
Mirsad and Damir stood directly beneath him as, disinterested, Petr walked slowly out of the room.
Daniel lifted his head, desperate to stop the droplets of sweat falling from his face. He breathed hard and pushed harder.
At last, Mirsad and Damir followed Petr. The light went out. The sweat on Daniel’s chin fell like the first drops of heavy rain in the dark and plopped onto Damir’s back. He walked on, oblivious.
Elizabeth stepped into the farthest cubicle from the passageway, next to the open shower area. Keeping her jeans firmly done up, she sat on the toilet.
Timur paced the corridor, his back to the cubicles. He wasn’t at all interested in what she was doing. It was one function of the female body that he had no desire to know any more about.
Daniel gripped the cracks in the walls with his fingertips, let his legs swing free, then dropped silently to the floor. He remained crouching, looking back along the dark passageway. Thank God no one ever looks up, he thought.
He moved forward slowly, cautiously making his way back down the passageway. Ahead, the four men were talking. Daniel stopped and listened to the conversation, then crept closer to peer round the end of the wall and across the shower room.
Their conversation over, three of the men walked away, leaving one standing with his back to Daniel. Daniel glanced across to the toilet cubicles, dropped to the floor and looked under to the nearest cubicle. A small pair of feet swished back and forth.
Elizabeth sat deep in thought. Someone had knocked the door, why? It wasn’t one of the other girls and it sure wasn’t one of Kozlov’s men. She was thinking hard, her feet sweeping back and forth across the floor. Was someone there, trying to make contact?
Suddenly, a huge hand grabbed her foot from behind. She jumped and squealed before she realised what was happening.
‘What are you doing?’ Timur shouted.
Elizabeth held her breath for a second as she stared down at the powerful hand still holding her ankle. The hand released its grip and slowly moved a single, cautioning finger from side to side.
‘Nothing, sorry, there was a spider,’ she called.
‘Fucking stupid woman,’ Timur growled to himself. ‘Hurry up,’ he shouted back.
‘Yes, Sir, I’m just coming,’ she replied, still staring at the hand. Instinct told her this was a friend. ‘Hello,’ she whispered as loud as she dared, pressing her head against the cubicle wall.
‘Elizabeth?’
Tears welled in her eyes.
‘Yes, yes, it’s Elizabeth,’ she replied urgently.
‘It’s Dan Temple, you OK? Is Jennifer OK?’
Her spirits soared as the tears rolled down her face and she felt a huge smile spread across her face and euphoric relief course through her body.
‘Oh my God, Dan, is Daddy with you?’
‘No, it’s just me. Don’t say any more. Be brave, do as you’re told. Stay strong; I’ll be back, I’m going to get you out, I promise.’
Daniel’s hand slipped away.
Timur thumped hard on the door.
‘Open the door,’ he shouted.
She jumped to her feet, wiped her eyes, flushed the toilet and opened the door.
Timur stared hard at her.
‘You were talking again? You’ve been crying?’ he accused and questioned.
‘Yes, I’m sorry. The spider made me jump. It frightened me, you frighten me. I was upset, I am upset. I was talking to myself, trying to calm down. I’m sorry, Sir,’ she garbled as the words spilled out, her reply full of nervous energy.
She stared at the floor, subserviently avoiding eye contact. Her heart beating hard and fast; the adrenalin coursing through her veins.
Timur looked at her, his face softening for a fleeting moment.
‘Back to the room,’ he said. ‘If you’re good, I’ll let you out again later.’
‘Thank you, Sir,’ she replied demurely.
Daniel stood back in the shadows and watched Elizabeth being led away. He waited a minute, then followed behind, moving back down the corridor. Passing the cells, he lightly touched the steel door; just hang on, he thought.
Daniel reached the hall, checked the corridors, crossed to the steps and ran up, two at a time. He reached the end of the passage, pressed his ear against the cold, hard stone and listened carefully. Hearing nothing but silence, he placed his feet on the floor stones and his hand in the grooves. He pulled and pushed. The secret door rolled inward and he slipped through the gap and back into the entrance hall.
Daniel stopped in his tracks as he passed the main entrance. Kozlov, Taras and Mertz were engaged in animated conversation just outside the open doorway. Daniel stepped back behind the door and listened.
‘Are you sure, Karl?’ Kozlov asked.
‘Yes, Mr Kozlov, I am totally sure. He’s British – SAS.’
‘You can’t be mistaken, confusing him with someone else maybe?’
‘No, I’m certain. I knew I ’d seen him before as soon as I met him. I just couldn’t place him. It was only when Oleg said that his first name was Danil that it clicked. It’s not Danil, its Daniel – Captain Daniel Temple. I saw him a few years ago on a joint NATO exercise.’
‘What do you want to do, Sergei?’ Taras asked.
‘Kill him, what the fuck do you think I want to do? I’m going to take a hatchet to his balls, feed them to him and then cut his fucking head off,’ Kozlov growled.
‘I think you should wait, Sergei. Let him do what you want done and then kill him. If he fails, Karl and I will kill him. If he succeeds, Karl and I will kill him. Either way he’s a dead man, but at least you get Durakovic.’ Taras counselled calmly.
There was a lengthy silence.
‘I don’t think Durakovic sent him. I don’t know why he’s here. It must be a British undercover operation,’ Kozlov replied at last.
‘That maybe true, Sergei, but Durakovic messed up anyway. He needs to be taken care of. He’s a threat and a liability. You need him out of the way. Let Kuznetsov or Temple or whoever the hell he is do the job. Then we’ll kill him, OK?’
‘Alright,’ Kozlov growled in agreement. ‘Bring him back here, though. I want to cut that bastard and watch him bleed, you hear me. I want his blood soaking my hands.’
‘Yes, Sergei,’ Taras confirmed.
Elizabeth sat on the bed next to Jennifer.
‘Are you alright?’ Jennifer asked.
Elizabeth opened her arms and held her sister close.
‘I’m fine,’ she whispered. ‘Dan Temple is here, it’s going to be alright,’ she said reassuringly.
Jennifer’s body shook convulsively against her sister’s as she cried. The same relief and joy washed through her body as it had done with Elizabeth.
‘You saw him?’ she asked.
‘No, but I spoke to him briefly. He promised to come for us.’
‘Is Daddy here?’ Jennifer asked hopefully.
‘No, it’s just Daniel. We have to be brave now, Jen. Do as we’re told. Daniel will get us out.’ Elizabeth said, pulling back and holding her sister’s face gently in her hands.
Jennifer nodded. ‘OK,’ she whispered, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve before bursting into tears again.
Daniel thrust his hands into his pockets and strode confidently out of the main entrance. Taras saw him appear and whispered something Daniel could not hear as Mertz looked up, watching his approach.
‘You ready to go?’ Taras asked.
‘I’m ready,’ Daniel confirmed.
‘Excellent,’ Kozlov replied, patting Daniel on the shoulder. ‘We’ll talk more when you return. Happy hunting,’ he said with a disingenuous smile.
Daniel, Taras and Mertz sat in silence as the car took them from the castle, winding its way down through the dense woodland to the main road. They reached the bottom, turned right and accelerated away.
‘You nervous, Kuznetsov?’ Taras asked, breaking the heavy silence.
‘No, should I be?’ Daniel responded.
‘Maybe. Nerves can be good for you; they keep you focussed.’
‘I am focussed,’ Daniel replied with a hard, icy, edge to his voice.
The car fell silent again – an uneasy, tense silence. The sort you can taste, feel and touch. Daniel waited calmly. Mertz had recognised him. Taras and Kozlov knew who he was. Even if he hadn’t overheard their earlier conversation, he would have known something was wrong. The atmosphere, the behaviour, the body language had changed – it was all wrong. This was it; a blink test. Daniel sat passively, his determination set hard and fast, his emotions buried deep. Focussed and unfeeling, he would not blink – not now. Not ever.
EIGHTEEN
John Shaw sat at his desk listening intently to the recorded voices over and over again. He considered every word, every phrase; the inflection, the delivery, the two small clicks, then thought back to his last conversation with Daniel. He drummed his fingers slowly on the desk as he listened and stared subconsciously at the telephone.
