DELIVERANCE: a gripping action thriller full of suspense (19 page)

Once in the corridor he turns to them both.

‘Okay then. I’m going to go back in alone now,’ he says.

‘Why?’ the sergeant asks.

‘Because I am about to cut the wires, and if for any reason I am wrong, I don’t want the two of you blown to shit as well as me.’

‘Live together, die together,’ Charlie says staunchly.

'Nice sentiment, but not this time, Charlie. You are organising us a ride somehow, okay. We need to get to England. ‘Cause if we both end up in pieces, who rescues the girls?’

‘Understood,’ Charlie says.

‘Right then,’ Marshall says. ‘Thank you for your help, sergeant. Please lock down this corridor. You have two minutes to do so, starting from when I go back inside.’

The sergeant nods and makes to leave but then pauses and looks Marshall’s way. ‘Before you do,’ she says, ‘I’ve got to know. Why the cat?’

‘Cats have a highly sensitive olfactory perception enhanced by the Jacobsen’s organ, which means they can taste smells, Sergeant,’ Marshall explains. ‘The people we are up against use iron wire for live wires due to its thermal conductivity, whereas the rest of the wires will be copper. And iron has the smell and taste of fish to a cat.’

‘I’m shocked and amazed,’ the sergeant says.

‘Sometimes you’re such a nerd,’ Charlie adds with a wink.

‘Now go,’ Marshall orders. ‘It’s time to do this.’

Charlie nods solemnly whilst the Sergeant hugs Marshall briefly.

‘Good luck,’ she says.

‘Give the cat a treat if I’m still alive in five minutes, okay?’

She nods, then turns and walks along the corridor to begin checking each room one by one.

‘Oh yes, and sergeant...’ Marshall calls after her. ‘Do you know what the collective term for a group of kangaroos is?’

She turns back and simply raises an eyebrow at him, and then enters the first room to clear it of personnel.

Marshall begins a countdown as soon as he re-enters the room and gives a thumbs up signal to Stephen Avens who nods back. Marshall goes to the desk and writes a note first of all, and then positions himself back on the floor beneath the chair and grasps the wire cutters. He collects the three crimped wires together and places them between the blades of the cutters.

Then he hands the note to Stephen.

The note reads:

I am about to cut the wires I believe to be live.

In a perfect world this will disable the bomb, but if it doesn’t, it will blow us to shit. I have found the wires by the most advanced technology.

I used a CAT scan.

In case this doesn’t work, I just wanted to let you know that we appreciate every single thing that you and your brother have done for us whilst we have been here. You have helped where others would have turned away. My gratitude will be everlasting. If we are about to die, there is something else I want you to know: I’ve been sat down here looking at your arse for ages, and I’ve realised that it’s much better looking than your face.

Avens laughs. Then the room explodes.

Chapter Twenty-four

The room explodes with light and sound.

I’m dead
, Marshall thinks.

Then the light and sound begin to take on shapes and coherent noises.

‘Move, move, move!’ a voice shouts.

‘Room secured!’ shouts another from down the hall.

The lights become flashlight beams playing over every surface of Tyomi’s office.

‘Two occupants!’ shouts the first voice.

‘Don’t move!’ scream a chorus of voices as Marshall is butted on the back of the neck with a rifle and is immediately rendered unconscious.

When he comes to, the first face he sees is Charlie.

‘Alright are we?’ Charlie asks as he sees Marshall’s eyes flicker open.

‘What the fuck?’ Marshall whispers.

‘You did it, little brother,’ Charlie exclaims. ‘You defused the bomb. Of course, the sergeant is taking most of the credit, but such is life.’

‘Probably a medal in it for her,’ Marshall says hoarsely.

‘Yep. A promotion too probably. But you got butted because they thought you might be the bomber. Oh yes, and the sergeant took our guns.’

‘Why?’

‘Because a lot of important people turned up after the bomb incident, especially with Tyomi’s death. Either she didn’t want armed civilians running around, or she didn’t want some lazy MP pointing the finger at us just because we were here.’

‘Or both,’ Marshall suggests.

‘Maybe. But she did at least swap them for this passenger manifest you asked her for.’

Charlie hands him a piece of paper.

‘How long have I been out Charlie?’ Marshall asks as he takes the list and looks over it.

‘A little under ninety minutes. Guess you needed the sleep.’

‘Shit, Charlie!’ Marshall exclaims looking at his watch. ‘What about the girls?’

‘Don’t worry! I wasn’t going to go without you!’ Charlie exclaims. ‘And the note said seventy two hours.’

‘Thank you for waiting.’

‘And by the way,’ Charlie continues, ‘I already looked over that passenger list, and I can’t see anything dodgy.’

‘That’s because you only scanned over the names of the passengers, Charlie.’

‘Oh?’

‘Under crew members, we appear to have a late change to the stewardess team. One Dorothy Kansas replacing a Mary Elliot.’

‘Quinn, you reckon?’

‘Definitely,’ Marshall replies. ‘I’ve seen the same name in a hostel in Africa back when I was trying to track the bitch down over there a long time ago.’

‘So, will she have a team on the plane?’

‘No chance,’ Marshall replies. ‘It will just be Quinn. The rest of the manifest checks out.’

‘I’m not sure if that’s better or not,’ Charlie says.

‘Agreed.’

‘By the way,’ Charlie advises, ‘there are some people who would like to talk to you. I’ll send them in, and then I’ll go and sort out our flight to England, okay?’

‘Thank you Charlie.’

‘You’re welcome little brother, and don’t look so down on yourself.’

Marshall smiles weakly.

‘We came all the way here to save her,’ he says wearily. ‘But she was taken, along with two people who are special to you. I should have stayed, Charlie. I should have protected them.’

Charlie slaps him hard across the face.

‘Twenty young women are safe because of you! I am alive because of you! Stephen Avens is alive because of you! This is a win, not a loss!’

‘I should have been better,’ Marshall mumbles. ‘I should have kept them safe.’

‘You take things too personally, bruv! We are going to get moving shortly, and when we are back on home soil we will take these motherfuckers to the bone!’

There is a flicker of a smile on Marshall’s exhausted face.

‘You’re right,’ he admits. ‘Thank you for reminding me.’

Charlie stands, salutes, and then heads for the door. Marshall’s weak smile fades along with Charlie’s footsteps. Twenty girls saved and a human trafficking ring destroyed is a win, for sure. But Marshall still holds himself responsible for Quinn getting her hands on Sarah, Jane and Phoebe.

‘Mister Marshall,’ a voice calls from outside the door. ‘Can I come in please?’

‘Of course,’ Marshall calls back.

The door is tentatively pushed open, and a girl appears. It is the same beautiful girl he had seen in the queue at Heathrow, just before all the madness began. Only now there are dark rings around her bloodshot eyes, and her hair is in a state. But even still, her identity shines through.

‘Hello Christine,’ Marshall says gently. ‘How are you feeling?’

Without a word, she rushes towards him and throws her arms around him sobbing. Marshall hugs her for a few minutes until her tears stop.

‘You saved me! I mean us. You saved us!’

‘Not just me,’ Marshall tells her, stoking her back paternally. ‘I couldn’t have done it without my brother Charlie.’

‘You are both amazing,’ she sniffs. ‘Whatever can I do to repay you?’

‘You can go home and tell your father that it was his ring that saved your life.’

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Marshall confirms. ‘One of the men took it from you, and I recognised it from our conversation at the airport. It was how I pieced it together.’

‘That’s amazing!’

‘Also,’ Marshall continues, ‘tell me your phone number. That way I can call you when I get back to England to make sure you all got home okay.’

She nods slowly with wide eyes.

‘Oh, and one more thing,’ Marshall adds. ‘Don’t let this one bad experience ruin your whole life.’

‘Okay,’ Christine responds sadly.

‘I’m serious, Christine. You have a dream, and you can’t let this experience stop you, okay?’

She nods and smiles.

‘You’re right.’

‘Maybe take someone as well as St. Christopher with you in future though,’ Marshall suggests.

‘You?’ she asks, with hope in her eyes.

‘You can always ask,’ Marshall replies with a wink.

Christine tells Marshall her home and mobile numbers which he memorises, then she kisses him on the cheek, and leaves.

Soon Sergeant Hanni enters the room.

‘Is it my turn to giggle, gush and swoon at the hero?’ she asks.

‘Give her a break, Hanni. She’s been through a lot.’

‘I was just kidding, Marshall. How are you feeling?’

‘Better thanks. Anything I should know?’

‘Shitloads,’ Hanni begins. ‘Firstly, I have taken the majority of the credit for what happened here today. Let me explain why…’

‘You don’t have to explain anything to me,’ Marshall interrupts. ‘You can’t have civilians running round your base, no matter how small it is. I fully understand that.’

Hanni smiles.

‘I don’t think you’ll ever really be a civilian,’ she says.

‘Maybe. What else?’

‘There is talk of the second ever Dickins medal being given to a cat.’

Marshall smiles broadly.

‘Well deserved too.’

‘Finally, I have requested a few favours for you,’ Hanni states.

‘Such as?’

She hands him a rectangular black box.

‘Inside this box is a travel pack. It contains…’

‘I know what a travel pack contains,’ Marshall interrupts. ‘Different currencies amounting to one thousand euros and diplomatic immunity papers. Food, travel and car hire purchase vouchers. I’m very grateful to you, Hanni.’

‘I guess it’s been a while,’ Hanni says with a grin. ‘It’s actually two thousand five hundred euros in there for you. That should see you through all this.’

‘Great. But will the immunity papers hold up do you think? Strictly speaking, this isn’t my country.’

‘They will be fine, as long as they aren’t scrutinised too much.’

‘Thank you for your help, Hanni.’

‘There is one other thing… but I’ll let your brother tell you that.’

Marshall nods.

‘The contact details for this base are in your travel pack, so call me if you need me.’

‘Thank you. Goodbye Hanni.’

‘Good luck Marshall.’

Ten minutes later, Charlie bursts back into the room.

‘You won’t believe it!’ he tells Marshall excitedly.

‘Believe what?’

‘I still don’t believe it!’ Charlie says excitedly. ‘And I was fucking standing right there when I was told!’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘We aren’t going to England.’

‘What? Why not?’

‘Because I was just approached by a pilot.’

‘And?’

‘And we owe Hanni big time. Follow me.’

Marshall shrugs his shoulders and then follows Charlie whilst shaking his head. He hasn’t seen his brother this excited since Christmas when he was about eight years old. As they approach a hanger area, Marshall looks at the number with a raised eyebrow.

‘Hangar thirteen,’ Charlie says.

‘Nice and lucky then,’ Marshall replies flatly.

Charlie opens the door to the hanger and watches Marshall’s face.

‘Is that a…’

‘Yes.’

Marshall gazes up at the enormous SR-71 Blackbird. It is renowned in the service as one of the fastest jet airplanes, with a cruising speed of Mach-3.2.

Marshall is impressed. Very impressed.

‘So we get home early to plan?’

‘Fucking hell, bruv. How hard did they hit your head? Think, little brother, think.’

‘Germany,’ Marshall says.

‘Exactly,’ Charlie agrees.

The difference in velocity between the blackbird and the 747 means that they will reach Germany well ahead of Sarah, Jane, Phoebe and Quinn.

If they can find the pilot, that is.

‘He said he would be here,’ Charlie says looking around.

‘Then where is he? Dead? Bullet hole front and centre?’

‘Maybe,’ Charlie admits. ‘But you said the hostiles have probably left by now, so it’s unlikely.’

‘Well, we can’t fly the plane ourselves.’

‘No,’ Charlie admits. ‘I can’t fly above a Mach-1, and even at that I’m pretty shaky.’

Then they hear footsteps. ‘Sorry I’m late gentleman,’ a voice booms across the hanger. ‘I had to say goodbye to the wife.’

‘So you were fucking your wife whilst we were waiting impatiently?’ Charlie asks to try and embarrass the pilot.

‘I never said she was
my
wife,’ the pilot smirks. ‘I also needed to pop over to the munitions store to drop off a weapon I found outside.’

‘What weapon?’ Marshall asks.

‘It was a Glock-17 I think.’

Shit
, Marshall thinks. Sarah isn’t even armed anymore.

‘Shall we go then?’ the pilot asks.

‘Ready when you are,’ Marshall tells him.

It is an incredibly tight squeeze inside the aircraft, but Marshall comforts himself with the fact that they will reach Germany about two and a half hours before the 747.

Plenty of time to prepare.

‘Names?’ the pilot asks. ‘I see you’re British like me.’

‘I’m Marshall and this is my brother Charlie,’ Marshall says. ‘Yes, British, born and bred.’

‘Nice to meet you both. I’m Paul McOck.’

Marshall and Charlie erupt into bouts of laughter.

‘Yes, yes,’ Paul responds, a little irritably, but still with a sense of humour. ‘Laugh it up. I had very pure of mind parents.’

‘Sorry,’ Marshall says breathing hard from the laughter.

‘Are you?’ Paul asks.

‘Not in the slightest. Let’s hit the road.’

‘You mean sky.’

‘Whatever.’

As Paul fires up the Blackbird’s engines, Marshall allows a little hope to return. Quinn gave them seventy two hours to get to England and find the girls. But she won’t be expecting them in Germany at least. This will be just the advantage they need.

Then, as the Blackbird takes off, a figure steps from the shadows and dials a number on the phone in their hand.

Go
, the gruff voice demands.

‘Mary Elliott reporting, sir.’

And
?

‘I have an update for you, sir. They aren’t heading for England after all…’