The concrete was cool when he pressed his palm against it. The road at his feet was still wet from the rain. The world was silent as he walked, the wind absent as the sun descended for the day. A grey orb behind grey cloud. The light would soon be gone, and with it would be the last of Nick’s hope of a quick success.
He shook his head even as he walked. He was lost. There were no markings on the asphalt of the truck’s path, no identifying marks to proclaim the way they had fled with their captive. He travelled through a wasteland of cement, tarmac and wire without a sliver of hope that he would find her.
He gritted his teeth against the despair.
Then, voices.
Nick stopped, turned, listened. Masculine tones. Their rabble was easy, almost reckless in their disregard for possible enemies that prowled these warehouses. Possible enemies like Nick.
He was behind a wall in an instant, his shoulder blades to the cool blockwork. His knife comfortable in his grip. He raked the hair from his eyes and held his breath as they passed.
A small group made up of three men, clothed in mismatched rags. Threadbare backpacks were strapped to their shoulders, shoes held together with twine covered their feet. They shuffled rather than marched. Their stink was a waft of foulness that followed them as they passed. They were not quiet, cautious or careful. Smiles showed black teeth, voices ribbed and joked. They laughed and cursed as they shambled past him.
This was no place to wander recklessly. The buildings had long been ransacked of their contents. Broken windows, absent doors, shopping trolleys that were piled high with remnants of faded plastic wrappers. If they were here, they had a destination in mind.
If their bickering was to be believed, it wasn’t hard to consider where they might head.
A place that would provide sanctuary and alcohol.
‘I told you, these will get us in, and get us a drink.’
‘They’re not gonna get us a fucking drink.’
‘They will, you just wait and see.’
They walked with surety, without care. Nick used the gloom as his cover. His head swung in the direction of the speech, but he made no other movement. He would use them to his advantage.
As they disappeared around a bend, Nick sent a final glance over his shoulder and followed them.
He had no formal training in stealth, but some innate drive had him as silent as the shadows he emulated. Hidden in the dark, concealed by a setting sun, they led him straight to the monster’s lair.
It was fucking huge. The largest building in the area. In hindsight, Nick never should have feared that we wouldn’t find her. The biggest building here was what would be needed to compensate for Parker’s small dick.
Tin, iron, concrete. Surrounded by fencing topped with razor wire. It was a modern fortress, and that didn’t include the men.
It was heavily guarded. Even where he stood, hidden in the shadows with significant space between him and the entrance, he could still see the guards that were armed with weapons as they monitored the parameter. Their faces were hard, their grips on their guns were firm, they prowled, ever vigilant. These were not men of an unregulated crowd that ambled from unknown destinations. These were the legion to the damned. Well-trained, well-defended and eager.
Nick hovered, waited, oscillated between taking action and showing caution. To storm the building was suicide. To delay could mean Kira’s death, or worse.
Did he wait for Euan? Did he proceed alone? He was one man against an army. Then he remembered.
‘You’ve done the impossible before. You’ll do it again. I trust you, believe in you. You’ve got this. Feel me?’
Euan believed in him. He always had. From the moment he’d told him that he needed to get his father’s watch back, Euan had been at his side, caring for him, loving him, protecting him, and always, always believing that he could achieve the impossible. Maybe, like the previous times, Nick could tempt fate again.
The men he had followed were no longer rowdy. They now trudged with purpose and care. Their faces were grim, their shoulders hunched. Gone were their smiles and their banter. They were men on a mission.
The gate loomed. Wire and steel, timber and iron. A man dressed in black and green stood sentry. A red sash draped his chest. He glowered at the three vagrants until they offered canned food for entry. His features did not change as he took the proffered offering.
There was Nick’s opening. It was his way in. He’d waltz right into that camp under pretence, into the belly of the beast. His gaze shifted from his destination to his clothes. But he couldn’t attempt it looking like he did. His clothes were new, his boots whole and intact. His face was goddamn clean. They’d know, at the very least they’d suspect. Any man that walked into the underworld dressed for a dance would find a demon willing to waltz. He’d be targeted and dead before he’d set foot inside.
No, he needed to find a disguise. One that would conceal him from watchful eyes.
He touched his breast pocket, to the picture that lay there. To the picture he had sworn to return to Kira. In this, he would keep up his promise.
His focus shifted from the entrance to wander down the road from which he had come. An unfamiliar smile stretched across his face. In the distance, he saw a way to get in.
***
Nick kept his head low and his eyes focused on the cracked cement. He shuffled his feet like all
