DELIVERANCE: a gripping action thriller full of suspense (14 page)

No mercy.

Three down, one to go, but the fourth guy is nowhere to be seen, which means he has already entered the building.

Charlie looks up at the house and weighs up entry points. He needs to know where the girls are, but has no way of finding out.

It’s time to guess. Time to gamble with lives.

Or maybe not.

Charlie collects the three knives, and heads for the front garden, pausing only briefly to wipe the blades of two of the knives on the grass.

Meanwhile, Marshall begins to drift back towards consciousness slowly. He was dreaming, but his dreams were clouded by the sleep-inducing drug in his system. The last thing he remembers is Quinn smiling down at him with a pair of barbers scissors in her hand.

When his consciousness has fully returned, he does not open his eyes and he does not move a muscle. He simply listens.

After thirty seconds he is satisfied there is nobody else in the room with them and he opens his eyes.

He is shocked by what he sees.

His binds have been cut and he is no longer strapped into the chair. Sarah’s binds have also been cut and she is sitting on a plastic chair looking out of the window with a pair of barber’s scissors in her hand.

‘Good morning,’ she says, without turning round.

‘Who the hell cut us free?’ Marshall asks, still feeling a little groggy.

‘I did.’

‘So who cut you free then?’ Marshall asks.

‘I did.’

‘How?’

Sarah takes a deep breath.

‘I came around a little under forty minutes ago,’ she explains. ‘I guess the old guy used less of the drug on me because I’m smaller. Then I noticed that as a typical man, he assumed I would be weaker and so he only tied straps across my chest and biceps, leaving my forearms and wrists free to move. He also only strapped in my ankles, not my thighs. So I simply pushed my way downwards whilst forcing my knees outwards. Simple really. Then I cut you free and have been waiting for you to wake up.’

‘You should have got away.’

‘To where, the airport? We missed our connection already. Avens will have assumed we are either liars or fakes. He’s long gone. Besides, as much as I hate you for what you have done to me, I couldn’t just leave you to die.’

‘Thank you, Sarah.’

‘Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind though,’ Sarah assures him.

‘Right. Thanks for the reassurance. Let’s move then.’

‘To where?’

‘We need to regroup. Let’s find Charlie.’

‘Do you know how?’ Sarah asks, almost amused.

‘Absolutely no idea,’ Marshall answers, ‘but I’ll think of something.’

‘Great. Well, while you’re thinking, why don’t we head for Jefferson’s house?’

‘Why?’

Sarah stands up and stashes the barber scissors into her belt.

‘I'll tell you why on the way.’

‘But I don’t even know where he lives, Sarah.’

‘No, but I do.’

‘How?’

‘Because before you showed up, Jane Jefferson was going to try to help me get away.’

‘Please explain?’

‘You won’t like it,’ she says over her shoulder, heading for the door.

Marshall sighs and follows her.

Danny Ratel is the name of the fourth guy from the car parked outside the Jefferson house. He is inside now and sweeping room by room slowly. He is badly shaken from the encounter outside with Charlie. He doesn’t ever remember seeing someone so well trained outside of his own unit.

But right now he must focus. He must assume that the other three, Gruber, Field and Slater, are dead. He must assume that the weight of the mission falls on him now, and he must also assume that the well trained man who attacked them is still out there.

Or possibly inside.

Ratel’s targets are two females. One approximately forty years old, the other approximately all of six. He has secured the kitchen and living room, but as he heads for the dining room, the kitchen window behind him shatters.

Ratel drops to the ground and crawls back to the kitchen. There is a lot of glass on the floor, but nobody around, as far as he can tell.

Then there is a tremendous crashing sound as the dining room window implodes.

Ratel gets up and runs into the dining room, his instincts telling him that the kitchen window had been a decoy. He enters the dining room with his knife held high, but again, no target presents itself. He decides that the attacker is just trying to coax him back outside.

‘No chance of that,’ he says under his breath. ‘I have stuff to do here.’

He walks a little more confidently into the living room and secures it before heading back to the kitchen, and then heads up the stairs to the upper level of the house.

As he reaches the top, he maps the landing area, and then can’t believe his eyes. There are four doors in total: two to the left, one on the right, and one at the end of the corridor. The one at the end is the bathroom door. He knows this because the door is standing open, and there is a small girl sitting on the toilet just inside.

Ratel leers. What perfect timing.

He runs the full length of the corridor and grabs the little girl by the hair.

‘You must be Fiona,’ he says menacingly.

‘Phoebe,’ she responds looking straight into his eyes.

‘Be very quiet now, sweetie,’ Ratel says to the little girl maliciously. ‘When I want you to cry, I’ll make you cry.’

He grabs hold of her arm just above the elbow and drags her roughly through to the doorway of the bathroom, and then a little way out into the corridor.

‘I have your daughter!’ he shouts. ‘And I’m slitting her throat on the count of three!’

There is no reply though.

‘Have it your way,’ Ratel calls out. ‘One, two…’

But still nothing happens.

Ratel drags the girl another pace forward, level with the door on his left. Then he lifts her up and holds her hard against his chest, as a loving father would, only Ratel’s intent is to use her as a human shield. Though she squirms and kicks him, he holds her firm with one arm, and places the other hand on the door handle.

Then he hears a noise from the furthest room away on the right. The first door he passed.

‘I heard that!’ Ratel shouts down the corridor. ‘Come out now, or she dies!’

The girl is sobbing now.

‘Shut the fuck up you little bitch!’ Ratel hisses.

Then the door where the sound had come from is opened, and Jane Jefferson steps into the corridor.

‘You don’t want your little girl to die now, do you?’ Ratel asks. ‘She’s only six.’

‘I’m eight,’ Phoebe murmurs.

’Whatever. Come with me now, Jane, or she dies.’

‘Leave her. Behind you,’ Jane Jefferson says pointing behind him.

‘I don’t think so,’ Ratel says. He looks down at the girl with an ugly smile. The smile of someone holding all of the cards.

‘My daddy kills bad men. You’ll be sorry!’ Phoebe cries angrily.

‘I don’t think so,’ Ratel gloats. ‘Your daddy is on my side.’

Then the door behind Ratel is opened and Charlie emerges jamming his remaining knife into Ratel’s neck.

Four down, none to go.

‘I guess you weren’t aware who her daddy
is
,’ Charlie says to the man on the ground. But it’s unlikely that he can hear much anymore.

Marshall looks at Sarah with raised eyebrows as they cross the road. He cannot believe what Sarah has just told him.

‘He did what?’ Marshall asks angrily.

‘It’s been going on for years, Marshall,’ Sarah responds, rolling her eyes.

‘But he never said anything to me. And I’m his brother.’

‘Jefferson was your friend, Marshall,’ Sarah says slowly. ‘That probably put Charlie in a rather awkward situation, don't you think?’

‘I guess so,’ Marshall admits. ‘But I still can’t believe he had an affair with Jefferson’s wife. When did it start?’

‘About ten years ago, but it didn’t really last long for Jane. I think she’s been stringing Charlie along ever since.’

‘Shit.’

‘And that’s not all,’ Sarah continues. ‘There’s a child involved too.’

‘Charlie’s child?’

‘Yes.’

They walk on in silence for a moment while Marshall tries to digest the information he has just been given. Then something occurs to him.

‘This is where Jefferson’s body was,’ he says, almost to himself, looking up and down the road.

‘So?’ Sarah asks.

‘So where’s the line? Where’s the police cordon? This is a crime scene and we have just walked right through the middle of it.’

‘You’re right,’ Sarah agrees. ‘There should be something here, but there is nothing. What the hell is going on?’

‘I really don’t know, but let’s keep moving. We’re out in the open again, and we don’t know when Quinn will be coming for us.’

They continue onwards towards Jefferson’s house, and as they round the corner at the junction of North and East Street, they nearly collide with Avens.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ Avens immediately asks.

‘You wouldn't believe us if we told you,’ Marshall says.

‘Try me.’

‘Okay then. We needed to get off the street so we went into the barbers down there. The bastard drugged us with some kind of sleep inducer administered in coffee. Then we were strapped into our chairs and left for someone to come and kill us.’

‘I want to believe you,’ Avens admits, ‘but I must say it does sound quite far-fetched. I mean, why, and by whom? Daniel Groth? Margaret Quinn?’

Marshall immediately crushes Avens against the wall, grabs his throat and draws back his fist. ‘How the hell do you know those names?’

Chapter Nineteen

Back in the Jefferson household, Charlie reaches around and places his left hand gently across his daughter’s eyes before she has a chance to turn around and see Ratel’s body bleeding all over the floor.

‘Keep facing forwards, Phoebe and walk to your mother,’ he whispers.

The girl does as she is told and keeps her head facing down the corridor towards her mother as she walks. Then Charlie hauls the body into the guest bedroom where he had emerged from. Then he goes back to join Jane and Phoebe.

‘Leave her, behind you?’ Charlie asks Jane. ‘What did that mean?’

‘I was scared and confused,’ Jane answers angrily. ‘Why are you here, Charlie?’

‘I’m sorry I haven’t had much time to explain things,’ Charlie says. ‘When I texted you from the helicopter, things were more simple. Since then, everything has gone crazy, and I knew he would be up the stairs after me as soon as he had secured the rooms on the first floor.’

‘Who?’ Jane asks. ‘Who the hell was he, and what is going on?’

Charlie sighs. ‘As I said, everything has gotten a little complicated. But it would seem that somehow you, Phoebe, Michael and Sarah Whittaker are all connected. And some very powerful people are after you all.’

Jane seems to contemplate Charlie’s words very carefully before she speaks.

‘Oh my God,’ she says quietly. ‘This is all about Sarah.’

‘How so?’

‘Because I told her that I would help her escape. I’ve been trying to organise a way out for her, and for us. So that we could be with you, Charlie.’

Charlie looks shocked.

‘But you told me to leave you alone! You told me that I can’t see Phoebe, and that I had to stay away!’

‘I had to tell you that because Michael was suspicious, don’t you see? If he thought I was leaving, I don’t know what he would do.’

‘I haven’t heard from you in months, Jane.’

‘It hasn’t been easy for us either, Charlie!’ she replies angrily. ‘Phoebe has missed you so much.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Charlie says soothingly. ‘We need to get moving though. They were definitely here for both of you, and so we can’t get complacent. We are still here, which means they know where we are. There will be a follow up team not far behind if it is the same people that have been chasing us up until now.’

‘Us?’ Jane asks.

‘Marshall, Sarah and me.’

‘Your brother? Where is he now?’

‘God knows, but we need to find him,’ Charlie answers. ‘We all need to get the hell out of here.’

‘I’m not sure I can leave,’ Jane replies, as if in a daydream, ‘Phoebe has school.’

‘Jane!’ Charlie shouts. ‘Wake up! We are all in serious danger now! We must leave immediately!’

‘Yes of course. I’m sorry.’

‘Did you hurt that man?’ Phoebe asks suddenly.

Charlie bends at the knees and brings his head level with hers.

‘Yes, Phoebe, I did, but only because he was going to hurt you or your mummy.’

‘Good,’ the young girl says. ‘I’m glad you did. He pulled my hair.’

‘Are we ready to go now girls?’ Charlie asks, standing up again.

‘Yes, daddy,’ Phoebe responds, smiling up at him.

‘I need to grab a few things,’ Jane says quickly. ‘I’ll meet you outside.’

‘I’ll start the car,’ Charlie says. ‘Phoebe, wait inside the front door until mummy joins you. Then when I beep the horn in five minutes, I want you both to run out as fast as you can and jump in the car. You got that, sweetheart?’

Two minutes later, Charlie emerges from the house staying low. He goes immediately to the driver’s door and pulls it open. He drags the body across the seat and dumps it on the ground. Then he looks at the guy and pictures him before he died.

He was right-handed.

Charlie reaches inside the guy’s right trouser pocket and finds the keys. He starts the engine and then beeps the horn. Jane and Phoebe run out of the front door, and are inside the car within twenty seconds, both in the back seat. Charlie then hits the gas and pulls out from the curb, heading back towards North Street where he last saw Marshall and Sarah as fast as he can.

He hopes to God that he can find them and that they are both still alive.

On the corner of North and East Street, Avens gurgles slightly as Marshall holds him off the ground by his neck.

‘Perhaps he could answer your questions a little more easily if you let go of his throat?’ Sarah suggests.

Marshall harrumphs, but then releases his hold on Avens throat slightly and allows his toes to touch the ground. Avens coughs loudly as oxygen flows back down his windpipe.

‘I’ve been researching,’ he gasps. ‘I’m a cop, remember?’

Marshall pauses and takes a deep breath.

‘Whilst we were in the café, Sarah told me the name of the organisation. The Profiteers. So, when you didn’t show up to meet me at the airport, I went in to work and did some digging.’

‘And?’ Marshall asks, still maintaining his hold on Avens.

‘Nothing,’ Avens answers still gasping. ‘Nothing at first anyway, but then I dug deeper.’

‘Explain. And quickly please, Avens. I have been attacked by more people than I care to count since I got to this fucking place and right now I’m about ready to snap your neck.’

‘There is nothing at all in the criminal files under the name Profiteers.’

‘How is that possible? There must be something there!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m talking about familiarity.’

Avens stares at him blankly.

‘The people that have attacked us are not new here,’ Marshall continues. ‘They have an established base. They have also somehow infiltrated Fort Baldwin. So how is it possible that such a large criminal outfit has not somehow, somewhere, shown up on your radar?’

‘Fort Baldwin?’

‘Yes,’ Marshall confirms. ‘Fort Baldwin. The Army base.’

‘There isn’t a Fort Baldwin.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you Avens, but we were there.’

‘I am telling you Marshall, there is not a Fort Baldwin in Australia.’

‘Perhaps it’s on English soil,’ Marshall suggests, as if talking to a child.

‘It wouldn’t matter if it were American soil. We would still know about it.’

‘So what are you saying then?’

‘I am saying that wherever you have been, it was not a military base called Fort Baldwin.’

Marshall lets go of Avens, who then collapses onto the ground. There are a thousand questions and ideas swimming around inside his head. But then one presents itself as of most immediate importance.

‘Where is the police cordon for the crime scene on the main street, Avens?’

‘What crime scene?’

‘There was a man shot dead out on the street earlier today. You should know that. It was Jefferson.’

‘There was no reported murder earlier today, Marshall, I promise you.’

Marshall looks long and hard into Avens eyes. He has been trained to tell a liar simply from the look in their eyes, and Avens is not lying.

‘None of this makes any sense,’ Marshall says. ‘In fact, nothing has really made sense since I got here. Anyway, will your brother still help us get home?’

‘This was supposed to be my home,’ Sarah interrupts.

‘So you like it here do you?’ Marshall asks sharply.

‘What?’ Sarah recoils.

‘I said,’ Marshall whispers in a way that only an ex-military man can. ‘Do. You. Like. It. Here?’

Sarah looks stunned, and Marshall does not bother waiting to let her answer.

‘You see, Sarah, my dear,’ he continues. ‘I’ve flown over 13,000 miles to get here to help you, and all I’ve had is attitude. I suggest you drop it, if you want to get out of this place alive. Do you understand?’

Sarah smiles.

‘That’s better,’ she says.

‘What is?’ Marshall asks, clearly perplexed.

‘I've been trying to get you to stop treating me like the pathetic little girl you used to know since you got here. And I think you are finally starting to do so.’

Marshall shakes his head.

‘Sarah, I just want all of us to get through this alive. If you want to be one of the guys, fine.’

‘Good,’ she announces.

‘As I was saying,’ Marshall says, turning back to Avens, ‘will your brother still help us, do you think?’

‘Yes,’ Avens answers. ‘I told him you were delayed. But I said that I would contact him as soon as you were ready to leave. He’s waiting for my call.’

‘Thank you,’ Marshall says. ‘Living on the sunny side of the street, eh?’

‘I was hoping you weren’t all dead, yes.’

‘Quinn will not be far from here though,’ Marshall warns. ‘She was supposed to come back to the barber shop to finish us off.’

‘Then why didn’t she?’ Avens asks.

‘That’s what I would like to know.’

‘Perhaps she’s dead?’

‘Somehow I can‘t see it being quite that easy.’

Quinn was on her way back to the barber shop in a stolen car when she got the call on her cell phone.

‘Tst,’ she said into the mouthpiece out of habit.

Where the hell are you
? the gruff voice asked.

‘En route to target now, if the plan has succeeded.’

The barber shop plan
?

‘Yes, sir.’

It was a fucking long shot to begin with, Quinn
.
I hope you have contingencies
.

‘Yes. The Beta team should now have Jefferson’s wife and the child.’

I told you we don’t need the child
, the gruff voice responded angrily.
She should be dead
.

‘If she is not already dead, I will see to it.’

Make sure you do
, the voice shouted, before the line is disconnected.

Quinn put the car into gear and began to edge forward when a thought occurred to her. Perhaps she should head to the Jefferson household and pick up the kid first? It would be delightful for Marshall to watch his niece die before he dies himself. Perhaps she could use the kid to make Charlie kill for her too? It’s not as if Marshall and Sarah would be going anywhere if they have been snared, and if not, they will be looking for Charlie anyway. So they should all end up at the same place.

Quinn K-turned across the road and headed for Jefferson’s house grinning with excitement at thought of the pain she would soon be inflicting.

Avens lays a hand on Marshall’s arm to slow him down as they begin the walk up East Street.

‘There’s more,’ he says. ‘When I dug deeper into the Profiteers, I found a loose link to a television production company by the name of Pro Fighters.’

‘Sounds like a coincidence to me,’ Marshall states.

‘Margaret Quinn is listed as the producer.’

‘Shit! So it’s a cover company do you think?’

‘Maybe,’ Avens agrees, ‘but it also operates as a real production company. They’ve made a few low budget crime dramas, and two straight to TV movies, would you believe.’

‘Have you seen any of them?’ Marshall asks.

‘I've have seen one of them, actually. It was a terrible plot line, but good special effects.’

‘What was it called?’

‘The Contract.’

‘What’s the basic plot?’

‘A group of soldiers defy all sorts of treaties and attack a poor defenceless tribe to steal a valuable contract with their gods. The hero is a female special forces leader who single handily takes them on.’

‘Where did it take place?’

‘Africa.’

‘Shit. This is all getting weirder and weirder.’

‘There's another thing too.’ Avens says, but Marshall doesn’t hear him anymore. He is deep in thought. Suddenly he is back staring at Quinn by the propane tank during their recent confrontation in the desert. Her awful smile. But there was something else, something familiar about it.

And then he remembers.

‘I’ve met her before,’ he whispers.

‘What?’ Avens and Sarah chorus.

‘Quinn.’ Marshall says, flatly. ‘I’ve met her before.’

‘Where?’ Sarah asks.

‘Africa.’

Avens eyes widen. ‘What, like in the film?’

‘Yes,’ Marshall responds. ‘Only there were no gods, only soldiers.’

‘Where did you meet her?’

‘There was one member of their faction I could never quite catch out. We found out it was a woman, but that was all of the information we had. I saw her, just once, but she was wearing a half balaclava. But I remember the way she smiled.’

‘Did you steal…’ Avens begins to ask.

‘Don’t ask me anything about the mission, Avens,’ Marshall interrupts. ‘I can’t tell you anything. You know that.’