Chapters (45)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Prologue
- 2046
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- About the Author
Harry goes down again. A mound of human forms pinning him to the floor. Safa the same. Screaming madly but held down. Still she fights. Kicking, bucking and biting, but they hit hard and keep her down.
Sharp pricks in necks. Plungers sunk down. Warmth spreading from drugs that add to those already in their systems. They fight on but slower now, weaker and with failing energy. The fight ebbs from limbs as they are pulled down once more into chemically induced sleep.
Eight
Eight
He backs the van up, stops the engine and grabs the plain black briefcase before dropping down to walk in through the main doors to the reception desk.
‘Can I help?’ the receptionist asks in German.
‘I have some injured men,’ Konrad replies in fluent German, biting his bottom lip with nerves.
‘Okay,’ the receptionist says, leaning to look past Konrad. ‘Where are they?’
‘Outside.’
‘I see. How many do you have?’
‘Twelve.’
‘I see.’
‘I heard you don’t ask questions.’
‘Payment?’ the receptionist asks, still without a flicker of reaction.
‘This do?’ Konrad hefts the case on to the desk and turns it so the locks face the receptionist. He clicks it open and lifts the lid enough to allow the receptionist a good view of the banknotes stacked inside.
‘Fine,’ she says, standing smoothly. She closes the lid and swings the case under the desk. ‘Bring them in.’
‘I can’t,’ Konrad says, heading for the doors. ‘Have you got cameras here?’
‘No cameras,’ she says.
Konrad nods and rushes outside, leaving the unmarked van where he parked it. Keys in the ignition. Unregistered and bought with cash. The same van he used to collect the men and take them to the bunker. Untraceable and no doubt it will be used towards the medical costs of the private clinic that specialises in giving treatment to conflict-injured private security personnel.
Three are dead. Three more will probably die. The rest have severe injuries of broken bones, concussions, fractured eye sockets, torn ligaments and tendons, broken wrists and fingers, and all done by three people still suffering the effects of strong sedation.
Those men worked for Hans Markel and it was Herr Markel that drew the attention.
It was his security company Konrad contacted to hire a dozen men. Now six of them are dead and the other six are severely injured.
The clinic would not divulge information other than the fees had been paid in advance. In truth, it wasn’t about the money. The owner was paid a briefcase full of money when Konrad hired the men and, as far as the owner knew, the job was to assess the security of a prototype underground detention centre, but he did not know where it was.