I didn’t answer. I squatted down to pack the camcorder back into its holdall as she carried on undressing.
‘I’m not stupid, you know,’ Sephy said wearily, taking off her jumper. ‘None of you are wearing masks or disguising your voices. I could identify each and every one of you, but you don’t care. Which means only one thing. You have no intention of letting me go, even if my father gives in to all your demands.’
My head shot up at that.
We regarded each other as Sephy continued. ‘One of you is going to kill me. It’s just a question of when . . . and who.’ She pulled her T-shirt over her head and threw it down on the floor. ‘W-what now?’ she asked.
‘You can put the rest of your clothes back on,’ I told her, picking up the T-shirt.
As she pulled on her jumper, I tried not to stare, I really did. But her body had changed so much in the years we’d been apart. She had breasts now! Her purple lace bra just emphasised them rather than hid them. And her waist went in, instead of straight down, and her stomach was flatter and her legs were longer and her face had lost its baby fat – and she was so very, very beautiful. I turned away as Sephy pushed her head through the neck of her jumper. I didn’t want her to catch me staring.
‘If your father does as he’s told, you’ll be OK . . .’
‘OK? Like I’m OK now?’ Sephy scoffed. ‘Come on, Callum, this is your chance to really take your revenge. Don’t you want to get your own back for all those times you had to put up with me on the beach? And all those years pretending to be my friend, just praying for this moment.’
Shut up! Shut up . . . Ignore her, Callum. Just ignore her. Put a strait-jacket on your feelings. Don’t let her see how much she’s getting to you . . .
‘What about the night we spent together in my room?’ she asked. ‘Didn’t that mean anything to you?’
‘You mean, the couple of days before you murdered my father?’ I asked, harshly.
‘Your father died trying to escape . . .’
‘My father chose to die because he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in prison for something he didn’t do.’
Sephy’s gaze lowered briefly. She looked up again and said, ‘I didn’t murder your father, Callum. I didn’t want him to die.’
‘You and your kind killed him,’ I told her, zipping up the camcorder case.
‘So you are going to kill me. But not you personally, I bet,’ Sephy’s voice trembled. ‘That’s not your style, is it? You set me up so your friends could capture me. You’re real good at letting others do your dirty work for you.’
I spun around at that. ‘You wouldn’t be the first dagger I’ve killed. Not by a long shot.’
‘And I’d be easy to kill, wouldn’t I?’ Sephy said quietly. ‘’Cause I don’t count. I’m nothing. Just a black dagger bitch. Just like you’re a white blanker bastard.’
And now I was furiously angry. Just like I’d wanted to be before I could do what I had to do next. I grabbed her left hand and before she could pull away, I drew my knife across her index finger. Sephy gasped, tears instantly springing to her eyes. And my anger died with such a suddenness that I knew it hadn’t been real to begin with. Manufactured to get me through the moment. The day. My life.
‘Sorry . . .’ I mumbled, wrapping her T-shirt around her finger. I concentrated on getting her blood on to the T-shirt. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. The white cotton of her shirt soaked up the blood like blotting paper. I unwrapped the shirt and dragged her still bleeding finger up and down it. The final proof for her father that we were deadly serious. The final proof that we were deadly. Sephy kept trying to pull her hand back but I wouldn’t let her.
‘I bet you enjoyed that,’ Sephy hissed at me.
‘No, I didn’t,’ I snapped back, letting go of her wrist at last.
Sephy put her finger into her mouth, wincing as the wound stung anew. She took her finger out of her mouth to look at it. It was still bleeding. The cut was deep – for both of us. Deeper than I’d intended. A scratch would’ve been deeper than I intended. She went to put her finger back in her mouth but I grabbed her hand again. She struggled, trying to pull her hand away. Maybe she thought I was going to cut her again. I put her finger in my mouth. And she was instantly still. I don’t know how long we sat there, watching each other. A second? An hour? Sephy moved first. She slowly pulled back her finger.
‘When you all decide you don’t need me any more,’ Sephy whispered, ‘I want you to . . . do it. One favour though. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask you. J-just make it quick. OK?’ And she turned around and lay down on her side of the bed, her back towards me.
I stared at her back, my fists clenched, reining myself in so tightly, I thought my back would snap. Only when I could trust myself to stand without falling to the floor did I get up. I left the room, carefully locking the door behind me. I leaned against the door, my eyes closed. I had to do this, make it through this. And I would. I turned to walk back to the living room, only to find my brother further down the corridor, watching my every move.
‘Yes?’ I asked, annoyed.
Everywhere I turned at the moment, Jude seemed to be watching me.
‘Give me the disc.’
I handed over the T-shirt and Sephy’s hair before taking out the camcorder. I opened it up, took out the video disc and put it in its case before handing it over.
Jude held it up carefully, before slipping it into his pocket. He looked long and hard at the T-shirt. When at last he looked at me, his grin was full of admiration and relief. ‘Now I know for sure whose side you’re on. Well done, little brother. Pete and I are going to deliver all this as well as our demands. Leila and Morgan will guard the house. Sephy Hadley is your responsibility. Understand?’
I didn’t answer. It was unheard of for the first- and second-in-command to go off on a joint mission together like this. Why wasn’t Jude going with Morgan? Or Pete going with me? Why did Jude want to be with Pete? There was something going on here . . .
‘We should be back by morning,’ Jude continued. ‘If the General’s second-in-command arrives before we get back, make him welcome – after he’s given you the password.’
‘Which is?’
‘Golden Man.’
Jude went to move past me. I stood back against the wall to let him go. Jude was my brother but I trusted him less far than an elephant could jump. More than ever I sensed the need to watch my back, my front, my sides and every other part of me – if I wanted to keep them in one piece, that is.
ninety-seven. Sephy
The door opened again. I didn’t even bother turning around this time. I lay on my side facing the wall. Rubbing my sore hand over my aching stomach, I fervently wished the pain away.
‘Dinner,’ came Callum’s rough voice.
I ignored him and carried on rubbing my stomach, waiting for the sound of the door closing. It didn’t come. Callum’s footsteps echoed across the hard cement floor. I stopped rubbing my stomach at once, but I still didn’t turn around. Callum put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me round to face him.
‘Dinner.’
He thrust the plastic plate into my hands. I sat up and after firing a lasering look in his direction, I threw the plate across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and the plate fell first, followed by a brown sticky mess trickling its way down the wall towards the floor.
‘You shouldn’t’ve done that.’
I deliberately turned away from him and lay down again. Silence. But I wasn’t going to turn around to see what he was doing. After a short while, I heard him cross the room and leave, locking the door behind him.
He never forgot to lock the door.
ninety-eight. Callum
If I could just stop thinking for five seconds then I could get some shut-eye. But it wasn’t happening. And the sleeping bag seemed to twist in the opposite direction to whichever way I turned. I couldn’t get Sephy’s words out of my head.
One of you is goin
g to kill me . . .
But we didn’t have to do that. OK so she’d seen us, but once her dad met our demands we could be long gone. But even as I thought it, I knew I was just deluding myself.
One of you is going to kill me . . .
‘You look like you could use some company.’ Leila’s voice above me was the last straw. I opened my eyes, giving up all pretence of trying to sleep.
‘Who’s guarding the front?’
‘I came in for a loo break – if that’s all right with you.’
I unzipped my bag and sat up. ‘No, it’s not OK with me. You want to take a leak, do it in the woods, but don’t leave the front of the cabin unmonitored.’
‘I’m not a man,’ Leila protested. ‘I can’t wee standing up.’
‘That’s no excuse.’
‘Callum, you’re mad as hell at something, but don’t take it out on me.’
I pulled on my T-shirt. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You don’t have to get dressed on my account,’ Leila said silkily, running her hands lightly over my chest.
‘Go and guard the front like you’re supposed to,’ I told her.
Leila stood up. ‘Suit yourself. D’you know, I think that’s why I like you.’ At my puzzled look she explained. ‘You’re the only man I know who hasn’t tried to get on my good side in five seconds flat!’
I smiled. ‘Nothing personal, Leila.’
‘Thanks!’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘That makes it worse!’
I got to my feet as she left the room. Pulling on my boots, I decided to hunt down a beer and join Morgan out back. Without warning, there was a sudden commotion out front. I ran towards the front door when it burst open. For one split second, I thought we’d been rumbled, that the police had somehow tracked us down. But it wasn’t the police. It was Leila and a stranger. He was as tall as me, with blond hair tied back in a pony-tail. He wore a dark polo shirt and expensive brown trousers tucked into fancy boots. His long, dark trenchcoat had the collar turned up and flapped open like a cloak or a cape. The peculiar thing was, the stranger had Leila in an armlock, not the other way round. Morgan came running up behind me.
‘Who’s in charge here?’ the stranger asked.
Morgan looked at me. I didn’t take my eyes off the intruder. The stranger turned to me. ‘I see that you are. I believe you’ve been expecting me.’
‘Let me go!’ Leila hissed, trying to twist away from the man who held her.
The man pushed her forward – hard. She only just kept her balance. She spun around, arms raised, ready to take him out. The man raised one hand.
‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ was all he said. But it was enough.
A second or two later, Leila dropped her hands.
‘So this is the famous Stiletto unit, is it?’ The man looked at each of us in turn. ‘So far, I’m not very impressed.’
‘We’ve been expecting you, have we?’ Morgan said.
‘That’s right.’
‘What’s the password then?’ I asked.
‘You first,’ the man ordered.
I regarded him. ‘I don’t think so. You’re the guest here, not us.’
I signalled to Morgan behind my back to get ready. We’d been caught on the hop but there were three of us and only one of him.
‘How about Gold Man?’ said the stranger.
‘Not even close.’ Morgan and I started forward.
‘Then how about Golden Man,’ the stranger laughed.
I regarded the man with undisguised venom. I didn’t like to be made a fool of and that was precisely what he was doing.
‘Hi. I’m Andrew Dorn.’ He held out his hand.
After a moment’s pause I took it, still on my guard.
‘You’re the General’s second-in-command?’ Morgan said sceptically.
‘Yeah. D’you want to make something of it?’ asked Andrew.
‘Only asking,’ Morgan shrugged. ‘Excuse me. I’m on guard duty.’
With a brief nod of his head, Morgan turned and headed for the back door. Leila followed his cue by heading out the front, still rubbing her upper arm where Andrew had twisted it behind her back.
‘Congratulations on the success of the first part of your mission,’ Andrew told me when the others had gone. ‘Let’s hope the rest runs as smoothly.’
‘No reason why it shouldn’t.’
‘No reason at all,’ Andrew agreed.
‘Want some coffee?’
‘Wouldn’t say no. Can I see the prisoner first?’
I opened my mouth to say that she was probably asleep, but I managed to snap it shut in time. We moved along the hall to the door. I dug into my trouser pocket for the key and unlocked it. Sephy was sitting up on her bed, facing the door. She regarded both Andrew and me without saying a word.
‘I hope for your sake that your father loves you very, very much,’ Andrew told her.
Sephy stared at him, frowning. I saw her glance down at Andrew’s boots, then start. I glanced down at Andrew’s boots myself. They were brown with silver chains just above the heel of each one. A bit too ostentatious for my taste but nothing special. So what was it about them that had caused such a reaction?
‘Be a good girl and you’ll soon be out of here,’ Andrew told her.
And still Sephy didn’t speak. If anything, her frown deepened. Andrew left without another word. I followed him out, locking the door behind me.
‘Make sure she doesn’t leave that room alive,’ Andrew said quietly. ‘Orders from the General himself. Understood?’
The ground started rocking beneath my feet. ‘Understood, sir. I’ll take care of it myself.’
‘Good man. Make sure you do.’ Andrew headed towards the kitchen.
I stood totally still, waiting for the earth to stop moving.
ninety-nine. Sephy
The moment Callum locked me in again, I carried on exploring my room. A forty-watt bulb gave the only light in the room. There were no windows and the locked door could’ve been reinforced steel for all the good it did me. The floor was cement and the walls were bricks and plaster. I thought again about shouting for help but logic told me that we had to be kilometres away from anyone who could help me, otherwise they would’ve tied me up and put a gag in my mouth. I tapped my way around the walls, not really sure what I was listening for, but listening for some change of note, a hollow sound that could rekindle some hope within me.
But there was nothing.
That man who’d come in with Callum . . . I’d seen him somewhere before. I knew I had and yet I couldn’t quite place him. It was frustrating the hell out of me. I pulled the bed away from the wall. It dragged across the floor with enough noise to wake the dead. I stopped at once and listened. I couldn’t hear anyone coming. I moved the bed more slowly. Was there anything behind it that could help me?
What was that scratched into the plaster behind the bed?
To my fellow Crosses, keep the faith.
The writing was jagged and uneven. From the look of it, it could’ve been written with a fingernail. Keep the faith . . . God knows there was little else to do in this hell-hole.
There was nothing in the room, apart from the bed with its one blanket and a bucket in the opposite corner. And short of standing behind the door and using the bucket to brain the first person who came in, there was nothing in the room I could use as a weapon of any kind.
Keep the faith . . .
I pushed the bed back and lay down again. I wondered what my family were doing at that moment – Minnie and Mother and Dad. Did Dad know that I’d been kidnapped yet? I hadn’t seen him in almost six months. How would he take the news? How much money did the kidnappers want anyway? How much was I worth to them? Maybe they didn’t want money. Maybe they were after something else, like the release of L.M. prisoners or something like that. I didn’t even know. How long ago was it that I hadn’t wanted to go home? A day? Two? It was hard to tell how long I’d been in this place.
/> A strange joke. I hadn’t wanted to be at home and now I’d got my wish. I would’ve given my right arm to see my family one more time. Just once more. And with that thought I knew that I’d given up on any chance of seeing any of them, ever again.
one hundred. Callum
‘We interrupt this programme to bring you a newsflash.’
We sat forward, all eyes on the telly. The atmosphere in the room was edgy as we waited to hear. I glanced at my watch. Kamal Hadley appeared at seven o’clock precisely, just as he’d been instructed.
‘I am here to announce that I shall be temporarily withdrawing from public office for personal family reasons,’ Kamal announced. ‘I don’t wish to say anything further at this time. Thank you.’
And then he was out of the press office like a rat up a drainpipe. Jude punched the air.
‘Yes! He’s agreed to our demands.’
‘I don’t trust him,’ I said, still watching the telly as the newsreader discussed Kamal Hadley’s surprise announcement with the channel’s political correspondent.
‘I don’t trust any of them,’ Jude replied. ‘But we’ve got him over a barrel – and he knows it.’
It was a crisp early autumn evening: the perfect evening to pick up our ransom money and let Kamal Hadley know we had further demands before he could see his daughter. At least, that’s how Jude had described it. The money would fund future L.M. activities but Sephy wouldn’t see her dad again until five L.M. members had been released from prison. The authorities didn’t realize that three of the five we wanted released were key members, not just the underlings they thought they were.
‘You’re all ready for the telephone relay?’ Andrew asked.
‘Of course,’ Jude frowned. ‘We’ve been through it a dozen times. Leila will stay here with the girl. Pete, Morgan and I make our relay phone calls from three different locations around town to stop them tracing the calls. Callum will drop off the second set of instructions, pick up our money and head straight back here. It’s all arranged.’