Perdition's Daughters, page 31
Dazed and in pain, Daniel felt himself being hauled back to his feet and marched down the hill. Feigning near unconsciousness, his eyes scanned the logging compound as his vision cleared.
A single black 4x4 was parked outside one of the huts and another came roaring into view on the single forest track. It braked, skidding to a stop close to the other, and four men stepped out.
Sandwiched between several guards, Daniel looked straight ahead, ignoring the four sets of footprints in the snow, as they reached the bottom of the hill and passed the cabins. In front of him, the hulking, bear-like figure of Sergei Kozlov, flanked by his two bodyguards, lumbered forward, wrapped in his long black coat.
Kozlov stepped in close and Daniel could see the anger and hatred boiling behind his black, pitiless eyes. Daniel held his gaze, his piercing blue-green eyes equally as cold, hard and unforgiving.
Kozlov looked away as if remembering the night, not so long ago, when he first met Temple and what he saw in Daniel’s eyes – no fear.
Kozlov looked at Petr and nodded. It was as close as he came to saying, “well done”.
‘On your knees, Temple,’ Petr ordered.
Daniel didn’t move. He stood, feet apart and arms up, with his hands clasped behind his head and blood running from the wounds in his thigh and shoulder.
‘On your knees, I said,’ Petr raged, kicking the back of Daniel’s knee.
Daniel buckled slightly from the blow, regained his balance and stood firm.
The butt of a rifle crashed between Daniel’s shoulders as Petr simultaneously kicked into the back of his knee again. He had no choice; the power of the blows forced him down and he knelt on one knee.
‘That’s better,’ Kozlov laughed a deep rumbling laugh as he stared down at Daniel.
‘You’re going to die now, Mr Temple, very painfully, I’m afraid, but first I need to know – what have you done with my property?’
Daniel stared back at Kozlov, his eyes conveying far more than any words could say.
‘You’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you, Temple? Perhaps you should have when you had the chance. Now, I’m afraid, the game is over,’ Kozlov said.
He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a small stainless steel hatchet. The brilliant, razor-sharp blade, glinted brightly under the fluorescent light.
Daniel’s expression remained firm. His emotionless eyes bored into Kozlov’s, then flicked past him as the doors to the other black 4x4 slowly opened. Three more of Kozlov’s men climbed out, dressed identically to the others, their black balaclavas pulled down over their faces, hiding their features. They walked slowly towards the group of men.
With Petr stood behind him and two men flanking either side, Daniel knelt on the cold, hard ground and watched them approach. The men stopped and stood respectfully still and silent behind Kozlov and his bodyguards.
They all waited.
Kozlov turned his attention back to Daniel.
‘Tell me what I want to know and I promise not to take too long in killing you. Where are the girls?’
Daniel knelt in silence. He was never going to answer that question. He wouldn’t dignify Kozlov’s questions with an answer of any description. His eyes darted around the group of men, desperately searching for the one small opportunity he needed. His hands were free. If he could just take one man out, he stood a chance. A slim one, but a chance nonetheless.
Petr would be the man. He was stood directly behind Daniel and way too close to react in time. Daniel thought it through. Despite his wounds, he could launch himself up and backward, straight into Petr. His men wouldn’t fire, not immediately; they would hit their own man. It was his only chance. He tensed his body, ran the movement through in his mind and waited for the moment.
Kozlov sighed heavily. ‘A hero to the last, Mr Temple? We’ll find them anyway, but have it your way. I’m going to enjoy killing you. Goodbye, Mr Temple.’
Kozlov raised the hatchet slowly, then froze like a statue. His arm held perfectly still as a Sig-Sauer pistol pressed firmly into the base of his skull. Kozlov’s bodyguards stood equally as motionless, pistols pressed equally firmly into the exact same spot at the backs of their heads.
‘I believe what we have here is a Mexican standoff,’ said the smooth, crystal-clear English accent. ‘Stand up, Daniel.’
Daniel rose to his feet, unable to believe his ears or the sound of the familiar voice behind the mask.
‘Drop the axe. Tell your men to drop their weapons and stand back.’
Kozlov thought for a moment.
‘Take a look around, my friend. You’re still out-numbered and out-gunned. I think you have made a very big mistake. You won’t get away from here alive,’ he said calmly.
‘Maybe not, but then you won’t be alive to see it, whatever happens. Now tell your men to drop their weapons or I’ll put a bullet through your head,’ the voice said with calm authority, jabbing the gun harder into Kozlov’s skull to enforce the point.
‘Step away, Daniel,’ the voice added.
Daniel took the Glock from Petr’s hand and stepped back from the group.
Kozlov sighed heavily again and dropped the hatchet to the ground.
‘Drop your weapons,’ he ordered.
The guns thudded one by one into the snow as the men dropped them to the ground and stood back.
‘Tell your men to leave – that way,’ the man said pointing back towards the open fields.
Kozlov nodded to Petr and the men. ‘Go,’ he said.
The bodyguards moved to join the other men, obeying Kozlov’s order. They walked slowly backwards, keeping Daniel and the three mystery men firmly in view until they reached the end of the compound. There, they turned, walked up the snow-covered hill and disappeared from sight.
The three men stood back and Kozlov turned slowly to face his opponent.
His eyes narrowed.
‘Who are you?’
‘A fair enough question,’ the man said pulling the balaclava from his head.
The two men with him mirrored the movement and stared at Kozlov, their gaze hard and unforgiving.
Kozlov looked at the man stood before him and recognition slowly dawned.
‘You?’ he said blinking, unable to rationalise why the silver-haired man was there. Then full realisation hit and his expression changed. He knew he was a beaten man. ‘I should have known. Daniel Temple, as in Temple Stamford. Sir David was your father?’
Daniel nodded. ‘He was,’ he replied simply.
‘You’re the silent partner in Mead Associates?’
‘I am.’
Daniel looked at the two men either side of Coleman. John Shaw smiled, winked and nodded.
‘Daniel,’ he said, by way of a greeting.
Colonel Richard Mead looked toward him, concern and question in his eyes.
‘They’re safe,’ Daniel said. ‘They’re in the cabin,’ he gestured with his head toward the small wooden hut.
Richard Mead nodded. The second question hung invisibly in the air. Daniel registered it and responded.
‘They’re alright,’ he added.
The weight of the world lifted instantly from Mead’s shoulders and he turned his full attention and anger back to Kozlov.
‘You evil son of a bitch,’ he said raising his gun. ‘What were you going to do with my daughters? You sick fucking bastard.’
Kozlov swallowed hard. He had no answer. He closed his eyes.
Richard Mead fired.
Kozlov’s body thumped into the snow, dead.
The shot boomed and echoed around the open compound and tore into the black silence of the cabin.
‘Oh my God, no, Daniel,’ Elizabeth cried.
The girls cried inconsolably. Daniel was dead; executed by Kozlov and his men. There was no hope for them now. They moved together and held each other tight. It offered little comfort.
The sound of footsteps heading toward the cabin cut harshly through their grief, forcing their breath to catch in their throats. Elizabeth wiped her eyes and tried to look again for a way out, but there was nothing. No window, no door, no hidden exit. They were trapped.
The footsteps grew closer and louder. The handle turned and the door burst open. Yana fainted, falling in a crumpled heap. Golden fluorescent light spilled into the cabin and the three pale, tear-stained faces, stared at the huge figure filling the doorway.
Daniel beamed a broad smile back at them.
‘It’s OK, you’re safe now.’
‘Daniel,’ Elizabeth cried. ‘We thought you were dead.’
Daniel didn’t comment. ‘Come on, there’s someone here who is rather anxious to see you.’
The girls walked hesitantly out of the cabin into the snow-covered compound.
‘Daddy,’ Jennifer screamed, joy, relief and excitement washing over her in equal measure.
She ran into her father’s arms, closely followed by her sister.
Richard Mead pulled them in and held them tight.
Daniel stepped into the cabin, followed by John Shaw.
Shaw gently lifted Yana from the floor as Daniel offered Lesya the crook of his arm and the two men took the girls to the warmth and safety of one of the 4x4’s.
Placing Yana gently on the rear seat of the car, John and Daniel left Lesya to comfort her.
‘Thank you, Daniel,’ Richard Mead said as he released his girls and walked over to shake Daniel’s hand.
Daniel nodded frostily, then wandered across the compound, to where John now sat with Coleman on a low stack of logs.
‘What the hell are you doing here – thank god. How did you know?’
‘How did we know what?’ Coleman asked, glancing at John Shaw.
‘How did you know we needed help or where to find us?’
‘Your watch,’ John answered simply.
‘My watch?’
‘I got it fixed for you, remember?’
‘Yeah I know, so?’
John Shaw sarcastically rolled his eyes.
‘Christ, Dan, for someone as intelligent as you are, you’re being very bloody slow. I added an extra little feature – a tracker. The same one we put in all the diplomatic watches. I always knew exactly where you were. I didn’t like leaving you to go it alone. I listened to that tape over and over and liked it even less. I knew I had to do something. Kozlov was a nasty bastard, but an organised and resourceful one. So is Durakovic. I know how good you are, Dan, but you would never have made it alone. So I spoke with Coleman and Richard yesterday and here we are.’
‘Was. Durakovic is dead,’ Daniel replied.
‘God almighty! I understand why you did this, Daniel, but it was very misguided. Richard should never have asked you – the odds were just too high,’ Coleman said, shaking his head.
‘Richard lied to me,’ Daniel said in a low angry voice.
‘Yes,’ Coleman confirmed. ‘But I think it best you hold that temper of yours in check until you’ve heard the whole story. You’re going to need to do some thinking; this goes far deeper than any of you realise.’
Daniel nodded in agreement as another thought struck him. ‘You knew Kozlov.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘Our paths crossed once or twice. Years ago, when I worked for your father,’ Coleman acknowledged. ‘But now is not the time or place for explanations. We need to get out of here.’
Richard Mead led his daughters towards one of the two vehicles. They walked slowly, hand in hand, as Elizabeth limped awkwardly along.
‘Who are they?’ John asked, gesturing with his chin as he tended Daniel’s wounds.
‘The tall one is Lesya. The other one is Yana. They were locked up with Elizabeth and Jennifer. I couldn’t exactly leave them behind.’
‘What’s wrong with the smaller one?’
‘Kozlov and his men took her first. She’s going to need a lot of help and care. Mentally, she’s shot to pieces. We’d better get out of here. I don’t suppose it will take long for Kozlov’s men to regroup and come back. Let’s get everyone into the cars; we can sort out what needs to be done later. Coleman, could you have Andrew Campbell meet us at the airport. He can take care of any legal requirements. Let’s go home,’ Daniel said, patting John on the shoulder.
Daniel stood and walked with Coleman and John Shaw to the second of the cars.
‘It’s not over, is it?’ Daniel simultaneously stated and asked.
‘No, I wouldn’t think so,’ Coleman confirmed, with a slow, sorry shake of his head.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The two black 4x4’s accelerated out of the logging compound. From high on the hill, Petr watched them go. He had remained close with the men, ready to respond as soon as Kozlov gave the word. The word never came.
He watched as one of the men angrily confronted Kozlov, shooting him through the head without a second’s warning. His thoughts and emotions were strangely mixed. A combination of detached, macabre fascination, loyal frustration, relief and revenge blended and blurred as Kozlov, the man he had served and feared above all else fell into the snow, dead.
The men looked to him now. In the absence of Taras, Petr was in charge. He wouldn’t be for long – he knew that. The short struggle for power would soon begin. The successor would be Vladimir Radimov, Kozlov’s commander in Moscow. There was no one more powerful left in the organisation. Radimov held the power base and would act swiftly to seize control and take revenge.
Daniel sat next to Coleman and stared thoughtfully out of the window as John Shaw drove.
‘We’ll be with the chopper in ten minutes,’ John confirmed, without turning round.
‘So what’s the story? Why did Richard lie to me?’ Daniel asked.
‘I think it’s best if Richard explains that to you himself. What’s more important is what we are going to do now,’ replied Coleman.
‘He didn’t need to lie to me, whatever the reasons. I was his friend and his partner – I would have gone anyway. I wouldn’t have left Elizabeth and Jennifer with those guys. He must know that.’
‘He does know that. Take it easy with him, Daniel. You’ll understand once you’ve had a chance to listen and talk.’
‘So what now?’
‘Now we plan. Whoever replaces Kozlov will be hard on our trail sooner rather than later. The Russian mafia aren’t used to this. They won’t be letting it go. They’ll want an eye for an eye.’
‘Great,’ John Shaw chipped in from the front seat. ‘Now I’ll have someone else after my arse.’
‘It won’t be you, John. It’ll be Richard and Daniel that have the dubious honour of being top of their hit list. Once we know who the new head man is, we can start the negotiations.’
‘Negotiations? I’m not running any more. Let them come,’ Daniel stated.
‘You still don’t get it, do you, Daniel? This is a war you should never have entered and sure as hell one you can’t win. These aren’t some small-time, backstreet hoodlums. This is a major organised crime operation. They are hard, ruthless and resourceful. They live by a code and will never stop coming. Not now, not ever –’ Coleman took a deep breath. ‘Not unless we or you negotiate a settlement.’
‘A settlement?’ Daniel questioned.
‘They’ll want revenge at first. Honour must be served. However, they’re not stupid. They’ll know who you are and who your father was. Temple Stamford pumps billions of dollars every year into the Russian economy. For every deal done, every dollar of profit made, the mafia takes its cut, a substantial cut – it’s just the price of doing business. It’s high time you got to grips with this, Daniel. If you really want a different life, to run that business of yours successfully, not just as a sleeping partner, you have to take on more of your father’s mantle.’
‘I’m not my father and I’m not trying to be. What are you suggesting? You pay them more? Buy them off? What sort of business is that?’
‘Grow up, Daniel, for God’s sake. Stop being so bloody naive,’ Coleman snapped. ‘What you did for Richard was very admirable. I’m very proud of you. Your father would have been proud of you, but you can’t spend your whole life being some sort of lone ranger.’
John Shaw laughed out loud. ‘That’s the second time you’ve been called that this week!’
Coleman frowned. ‘What I mean is, this is a very serious business. The sooner you two realise that, the better. You can’t just approach it like some overgrown boy scout. You have to accept, whether you like it or not, that there are some battles you can’t fight, with guns, knives and fists – no matter how good at it you might be.’
‘So we just cower away and pay up, is that it?’
Coleman glared at the man he had seen grow from a boy.
It was a look Daniel hadn’t seen for years.
‘Who said anything about cowering away?’
‘But I thought you said –’
‘You didn’t hear me say anything of the sort. I haven’t told you what we’re going to do,’ Coleman cut across him angrily. ‘Now just listen.’
The small private jet touched down at the isolated airstrip just outside St Petersburg twelve hours after the call had been made by Petr. Vladimir Radimov stepped onto the tarmac. He was a tall man, immaculately dressed in a perfectly-tailored, navy Armani suit. His handsome features were set firm and his thick, neatly-groomed, fair hair fluttered slightly in the light, chilling breeze. His crystal-blue eyes scanned across the men waiting by the row of three cars. He nodded once.
‘Petr,’ he said in greeting.
Petr guided him to the waiting limousine parked in the centre of the row.
‘What happened here?’ Radimov asked as the cars pulled away.
Petr sat nervously beside him and explained the story, or at least as much as he knew. Radimov nodded and listened, asked questions and prompted for further detail, as Petr recounted everything he possibly could.
‘The strange thing is, I’m sure Kozlov knew the older man, but I’d never seen him before. He definitely had some important connection to Temple, though.’
