Zero Hour (2010)

‘Not you.’

I hooked her arm and guided her across the roundabout towards Papaverhoek.

That was me fucked with Tresillian yet again, but so what? I was fucked anyway. He’d have to find me to grip me. As for the target building, fuck it. It was going to be a while before they found out where the girls had come from, even if they told the truth straight away.

I couldn’t get Lena’s friend involved. It was too complicated, and there wasn’t time. But at least the girls were safe. They’d be fed and watered and given warm shoes and a place to rest before someone remembered to ask the police if they might like to find out where they’d been held, or about the man who’d saved them. By then it would be too late.

Lily was hobbling now, but she’d live. FilmNoord XXX was doing a brisk trade. Four cars were parked up, their drivers browsing the shelves. A woman in her late forties and not exactly box fresh smoked a cigarette and scoped for business. She didn’t give us a second glance. She was more interested in the lads with back seats than a guy who’d already found what he was looking for.

I approached the safe-house from the opposite side of the road. Everything looked OK. I checked the telltales, unlocked and closed the door quickly behind me. I hit the lights and locked back up.

I stood there for a while, composing myself - allowing myself a moment or two of satisfaction for a job well done.

‘You will be taken home, Lily. Soon.’

As I opened the fire door and we moved into the office corridor, I could see that the door to the mailroom was open. But it wasn’t Angeles who emerged from it to greet us, and the dull light was clear enough for me to see he had a shotgun at his shoulder. The barrels were pointing at me. Bradley had both eyes open. His finger was inside the guard, and its pad was resting on the trigger.

23

‘For fuck’s sake …’ My shoulders slumped. I shook my head slowly as Lily jumped behind me for protection.

At that moment I realized that if it wasn’t for Anna and the two girls, if Angeles was still alive, I’d just let him get on with it - and feel happy that it would be over and done with.

Bradley looked at me, weapon still up. ‘What have you been doing, Nick? Starting a collection? This other young lady should still be in that building.’

The barrel moved left to right. ‘Follow me.’

He walked slowly backwards, barrel facing us, until he reached the door to the back room.

‘Both of you - inside.’

Angeles was sitting by the opening to the shower, blood pouring from her nose. Her hands were red with the stuff. She’d been packing. Most of the gear was gone, but now the mugs lay on the carpet and tea bags from the box were strewn by her feet. She recognized Lily at once and started to beg Bradley in Russian. Tears rolled down her bloodstained cheeks. Was it a bluff? Had she gone straight into her native language so she didn’t give away she understood English? Or was she so shit scared she couldn’t force any English out?

Bradley tried to appear calm, but I could tell he was flapping. The plan had probably been to enter the building, wait for me and Lily, and simply drop me. Now he was going to have to think on his feet, with another body to sort out.

He looked behind me.

‘Lilian?’

‘Yes.’

He immediately looked a lot more cheerful. ‘Then who on earth is this one, Nick?’

‘Just a whore. From the porn shop. She knows fuck-all.’ I moved sideways and leant against the wall. My arse was killing me. ‘Well, she knew fuck-all until you decided to come in here like Wyatt fucking Earp.’

‘Stand fucking still.’ Bradley was in command mode now he had Lily.

‘Why? What are you going to do if I don’t? You going to shoot me?’ I nodded at Angeles. ‘Look at the fucking mess you’ve made of her.’

‘Who else knows about you being here?’

He moved the weapon up a couple of inches, as if that was going to make me flap. Fuck him.

‘You had anyone else here?’

‘Why the fuck should I tell you? You’re going to drop me anyway, aren’t you?’

Angeles was quiet now, her eyes flicking between us. The weapon was still in his shoulder. I couldn’t see if the safety was on or off. It was on top of the weapon, just in front of the stock.

I looked at his eyes. They were flickering. They weren’t cool and steady. Maybe it was OK killing men, but young girls …

I knew the feeling.

His finger was still curled inside the trigger-guard. I watched his eyes. Whether by action or default, he could still drop me. The end result would be the same. He blinked. Then again. He had the tools to do it, but had he the intent? Execution without reason or emotion is for psychos, and unfortunately for him, he wasn’t one. I knew; it was easy to tell. It was probably why I’d fallen for this whole stitch-up in the first place.

‘Bradley, you don’t have to do this. You do this, mate, you’re going to have nightmares for the rest of your life. It fucks you up for ever, believe me. You can’t sleep. Your head will fill with my face and hers every time you close your eyes. Don’t do it. We can sort something out. We can make it work for both of us …’

He was weirding out. The fingers of his left hand started to jump about on the barrel like he was playing the trumpet. He adjusted his grip on the weapon and squeezed it more firmly, as if it was going to run away.

‘Once you do me, they’re going to do you - you understand that, don’t you? Someone will be coming for you. They won’t leave loose ends, mate. You’ve seen how they work. We’re all tools here. We’re all used and abused.’

I had to get on with this shit one way or another. There was less than an hour to go. If we were still here at that point, we were all in the shit.

I noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead. I kept eye-to-eye. ‘Mate, you’ll be next. It’s what they do. I can help you make that not happen. I’ve been doing this shit for years. They don’t like people like you and me, mate. They—’

A mug flew left to right and made contact with Bradley’s head. I dropped beneath his line of sight.

‘Fucking bitch!’

Angeles hurled another mug-shaped missile and ran towards him in a frenzy. I focused on the barrel. I lunged and grabbed it with my left hand, moved it straight down towards the carpet, trying to keep the muzzle out of harm’s way. Angeles lashed out at him as he slumped to his knees. Arms windmilling, screaming like a banshee, she rained blows on his head, eyes closed, then leapt on him.

They both fell, the barrel between them. The weapon kicked off, the lead shot peppering the wall beneath the sink and blowing a hole the size of a fist through Angeles’s tiny chest.

I pulled the shotgun away from him as I dragged him free of her, then jumped on him. I wanted to keep him on the ground. I wanted him alive. I wanted to find out who, where and when.

He kicked out like a madman. ‘Leave me alone! Leave me alone!’

I shoved my left arm onto his chest, punched into his face and shouted down at him: ‘Stop, Bradley. For fuck’s sake, stop!’

His face was red with fear or rage. He wouldn’t stop moving. ‘No! No!’

I felt the gun barrel cold against the side of my head. It made contact with Bradley’s cheek. The loose flesh creased and folded around the muzzle.

‘No, Lily! No!’

I jerked back, but felt the pressure wave of the blast against my face. A fine, liquid mist coated my skin, and I didn’t need a mirror to tell me what it was.

There was a massive oval-shaped hole just below Bradley’s eye. Through it, I could see a patch of red and