Payback. Part 10

Fergus grunted in pain. 'Listen to me. Rip up the sweatshirt and jam it into both the exit and the entry wounds. You've got to stop the bleeding. If I moan and shout at you, ignore me. You've got to plug the holes or I'll be going down.'

'Did they kill-?'

'Yes.'

There was nothing more to say. Not then.

Danny ripped the sweatshirt with his teeth and hands until he had two large pieces.

'Roll them up and pack the cavities.'

Breathing deeply, and trying to ignore Fergus's curses and gasps at the almost unbearable level of pain, Danny followed his orders. The only way to stop the bleeding was to apply pressure to both entry and exit wounds. If one was left unplugged, the blood flow would only increase.

Fergus screamed again and Danny instinctively released the pressure slightly, so as to ease his grandfather's agony.

'Keep the f.u.c.king pressure on!' yelled Fergus. 'Ignore me!'

A vehicle went by, but neither Danny nor Fergus even noticed it. Danny leaned into the wounds, trying to get his weight behind the pressure he was applying with his hands as they slithered and slipped on the b.l.o.o.d.y leg.

He stayed in the same position for fifteen or twenty minutes, although it seemed like hours. His grandfather's blood had oozed all over the back of the vehicle and covered Danny's hands and arms, but the heavy flow had stopped.

'OK, get your shirt off and wrap it as tight as you can around the damage. The pressure has to stay on while you drive us out of here.'

Without a word, Danny took off his shirt and bound up the wounds.

Fergus nodded. 'OK, now drive! I'll tell you where to go.'

At the golf club the long-haired DJ was taking a break. He walked out into the car park, with his girlfriend in hot pursuit.

'What is it with you and bridesmaids are you incapable of leaving them alone?'

'Oh, give it a rest, Lisa, will you? I played her a record, that's all.'

'You sure you didn't ask for her phone number?'

'Course I didn't. She's too p.i.s.sed to remember it, anyway.'

He walked further into the car park, leaned against the boot of a red Nissan Almera and took out a packet of cigarettes. In the boot of the car were two bodies: Kev Newman and Benny.

Fran and Paul, who was heavily bruised down one side of his body, had cleared up the contact as swiftly as possible. They did all they could and then left in their own vehicles. Benny's car would be picked up later.

The DJ smiled at his girlfriend. 'Come here and give us a kiss.'

'Not if you're lighting that f.a.g. I don't kiss ashtrays.'

The cigarette dropped to the ground and the DJ held out his arms. 'Come on, Lisa, you know you can't resist me.'

Lisa shrugged, then moved towards her boyfriend and they kissed. Briefly.

The DJ frowned as Lisa stepped back. 'What's wrong with you?'

'I dunno, I just don't like it out here. Something about this place is giving me the creeps.'

CHAPTER 27

Elena's phone was lying on her bed. She was staring at it, willing it to ring, but it remained silent.

The time had pa.s.sed agonizingly slowly since her frantic warning call and she was desperate to know whether Danny and Fergus had got away from Hereford. She wanted to call again, but was trying to think tactically. If they had been captured, and Danny's phone was in the hands of Fincham's team, then redialling the mobile could compromise her own situation. Then she realized that her number was already on Danny's phone because of her previous call, as well as being in the mobile's phone book.

Elena was listening to music, but it wasn't having a calming effect. The longer she sat and waited, the more anxious and frustrated she became. She had to make the call; she had to know. She switched off the music, picked up the phone and punched in the number.

Danny was gripping the Discovery's steering wheel with both hands. His driving was getting better, but not much. There was no way he could answer the phone and keep the vehicle on the road at the same time. 'You'll have to get it.'

The mobile was in Fergus's jacket. He had managed to prop himself up on his elbows so he could watch the road and give Danny directions. He pulled out the phone. 'Yes.'

'Are you OK?' said Elena, remembering the no names order. 'You didn't call back and-'

'Yeah, we're fine. It's been a bit difficult to call, but thanks for the warning.'

Up ahead, the road forked left and right. 'Go left, boy.'

Elena could hear the Discovery's engine and she also heard Fergus's instructions. 'Did you say... ? Is he he driving?' driving?'

'No, no, of course not. He can't drive.'

'I know that, but you said-'

'We're with a friend, getting out of town, and he's in the front with him.' Elena was going to have to know exactly what had happened over the past few hours, but not until Fergus had worked out what their next move would be. 'He... er... he sends his love.'

Not for the first time Fergus was reminded that Elena, like Danny, could be very persistent. 'Could I have a word with him?'

'Not now, it's not a good time, and we have to save the charge on this phone. We'll call tomorrow, early. And don't worry, we're fine.' Fergus ended the call and dropped the phone onto the seat next to him.

Danny was concentrating on the road but he had listened to every word of the conversation. 'I can't believe you said that.'

'What?'

'That we're fine. Look at the state of us. You've got holes in your leg, we look like a couple of vampires, and you say we're fine.'

Fergus grimaced as a stabbing pain shot through the wound. 'We're a lot better off than we might have been. Left again.'

It was way past midnight in Moscow, but George Fincham figured that fifteen million pounds ent.i.tled him to call his 'broker' whenever he wanted. Not that he ever had the more distance between them the better as far as Fincham was concerned. But this was different; this was an emergency.

Fincham was holding a brand-new pay-as-you-go phone. Using his official Firm secure phone would not be a good idea for such highly unofficial business as this. The pay-as-you-go phone would be used only once and the call would be untraceable. It was a system often employed by drug dealers.

Curly and Beanie had switched to the night shift and were watching Fincham on the surveillance house monitors as he pressed his pa.s.sword into the phone to access the credit from a 20 top-up card. Curly adjusted the sound on his headphones and checked that everything was being taped. 'This'll be interesting.'

They watched as Fincham put the phone to his ear and waited. A minute pa.s.sed: he was obviously going to let it ring until it was answered.

Fincham was almost ready to run; he was going to get out while he could. The news of the latest botched attempt to finish off Fergus and Danny had stunned more than angered him. Whatever he did, no matter which tactics he employed, Watts still eluded him. Fincham wasn't a superst.i.tious man, but he was beginning to believe that fate was against him. And so he was making plans to take the money and run.

The phone in Moscow was finally lifted from its receiver and a deep, irritated voice growled a single terse word. 'Da?'

Fincham sounded calm and relaxed as he spoke. 'Good evening, it's Mr Davies.'

The man at the other end of the line paused for a moment as his sleepy brain adjusted to the switch in language. 'Ah, Mr Davies, how are you? It is very late here in Moscow.'

'I apologize if I woke you, but there are certain things I need to know regarding my investments.'

'I see. Then perhaps you would not mind answering some security questions?'

'Of course.'

At the word 'investments' the two night operators had exchanged a look, frustrated that they could hear and record only one side of the conversation.

'Fifty-six,' said Fincham; then, after a long pause, 'One hundred and twenty-nine.'

The figures meant nothing to Curly and Beanie. They knew that Fincham was providing the numbers in a complex sum or sequence. But without knowing the other numbers, what they were hearing was useless to them.

'Ninety-three.'

Fincham's 'broker' was satisfied with his client's answers. 'How can I help you, Mr Davies?'

'I need to know how much of my investments I can draw immediately, or within a week at the most.'

There was another pause. Fincham couldn't see the smile that spread over the face of the Russian at the end of the line. 'Perhaps... four million. Dollars, of course. And at such short notice there would be a considerable cost involved.'

'Four million dollars! But that's nowhere near my total investment!'

Curly frantically began hitting panic b.u.t.tons in what he knew was a virtually hopeless attempt to get a fix on the mobile or pick up the call. 'He's calling his broker! There's a broker laundering the money. Find him and we've found the cash!'

But when the broker spoke again, his words were heard by Fincham alone. 'Mr Davies, as you know, your investment covers many areas. Gold, property, oil. All guaranteed to bring you a considerable return. But for that, your commitment is long term, as we have discussed before.'

Fincham breathed hard. 'And if I chose to change our arrangement, call in my total investment? How long would it take?'

'Perhaps... six months. But there would be a significant loss of interest; probably of the capital figure also. Your business partners depend on you, just as you depend on them.'

Perhaps. Perhaps. The word 'perhaps' was occurring too many times for Fincham's liking. 'Very well, I'll get back to you. Thank you for your time. Goodnight.'

He ended the call and threw his mobile onto a beautifully upholstered sofa. 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d!'

In the surveillance house Beanie was feeling equally p.i.s.sed off. He ripped off his headphones and threw them down on the tabletop. 's.h.i.t. We'll never find out who he called.'

Curly was still staring at the monitors, watching Fincham pace angrily around his apartment. 'Maybe there is a way,' he said. 'If he calls again, I reckon we'll have him.'

CHAPTER 28

Danny was running along the tarmac road towards the fir tree plantation where his grandfather was hiding.

It was nearly first light. Fergus had told Danny to dump the Discovery in the reservoir a couple of miles down the road and then get back under the cover of darkness, before being spotted by early drivers using the route through the Brecon Beacons.

In the semi darkness he could just see the peak of the mountain behind the forestry block. This area was like nothing he had seen during his time in Spain. There, the long mountain ranges had rolled and stretched across vast areas of land. Here, everything seemed more compressed, compacted into one dark, ominous ma.s.s of towering peaks and dark forest.

He jogged off the road at a large lay-by, his marker, and then jumped a stone wall and plunged into densely packed fir trees. They were like giant Christmas trees, their branches drooping almost to the ground. There was barely enough light for Danny to see where he was going. As he made his way towards the centre of the plantation, he could feel the pine needles that had worked their way down the back of his neck sticking to his sweat.

Everything usable had been stripped from the Discovery before Danny drove it away. Rubber mats laid on top of the pine needles formed a waterproof seal and the carpeting made lying down a little more comfortable for Fergus, who was still in a lot of pain.

The wound was weeping, but he knew better than to take off the sweatshirt dressings. By now scabs would have formed between the material and flesh; taking off the dressings would rip off the scabs and start the heavy bleeding again. More dressings and more pressure were needed to completely stop the blood flow from the GSW, but while Danny was away all Fergus had been able to do was use his hands to press down on his thigh.

The wind had got up and was rustling through the branches, but Fergus was being kept warm by Kev's green fleece and an old Barbour on top of his own jacket. They had lost most of their kit in the contact at the golf club. All that remained was the PE and detonator, which had been in separate inside pockets in Fergus's jacket, and a little money. Very little: Fergus had been carrying the 60 in notes in his jeans pocket and they were soaked in blood.

Fergus heard Danny approaching, then saw him crawling into the hide. He handed him a roll of gaffer tape taken from the Discovery. Danny could see well enough now to bind the sweatshirt dressing tightly around the wound. He started to rip tape from the roll as Fergus turned cautiously onto his side.

'Wagon sink OK?'

'Yep. Rolled down the hill no problem.' Danny slowly but firmly wrapped the tape around the wound. 'I reckon there's a few more down there it sounded like it landed on another car.'

Fergus grimaced as Danny fixed the tape, but then smiled as he remembered a night many years earlier. One of the rusty wrecks sunk beneath the water had belonged to Kev. They had dumped it when the battered Renault 5 failed its MOT, and then Kev reported it stolen and cashed in on the insurance. It paid for a few golf b.a.l.l.s.

'It's deep enough,' was all he said.

A vehicle pulled into the lay-by and Fergus saw Danny's anxious look. 'Don't worry it'll be the first of the dog walkers or hikers. We're at the bottom of Pen y Fan.'

'You mean that mountain?'

Fergus pulled himself up against a tree trunk so that he could just see the activity going on in the lay-by. 'Part of selection for the Regiment is getting over the top of that thing, down the other side and back to the lay-by again in under four hours. With a sixteen-kilo bergen on your back.'

Danny thought back to the towering peak he had just made out as he ran back to the LUP. 'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.'

A tailgate slammed, and through the branches they spotted a multi-coloured jumper as a hiker went stomping off down the roadway towards the mountain path. 'Some people do it for pleasure,' said Fergus.

'What do we we do now?' said Danny. 'We can't stay here for ever, and your leg needs attention.' do now?' said Danny. 'We can't stay here for ever, and your leg needs attention.'