Bodie waited for the rough treatment to restart, but not for long. Soon they were being urged down the steep steps and onto solid ground. Bodie heard someone fall and then their cry, but when he turned in their direction he was struck on the back of the head and shoved onward.
Minutes later they were in another car and more hours passed.
*
Bodie believed they had reached the end of their journey when the vehicle pulled over. He was tired, thirsty, aching, his thoughts in total disarray. He couldn’t tell where his friends were, or even if they were still all together. Another pair of hands grabbed him and shoved him around a corner. Bodie flinched as a gust of wind and saltwater hit his face. It was surreal, but not unwelcome, helping to cut through the fog in his brain.
Seconds later he was pushed down slippery stone steps and then pushed forward. For a moment, panic struck, and he thought that maybe he’d been pitched face first into the sea, but he hit the bottom of a wooden vessel that could only be a boat. For the first time he heard sounds of mirth at his back.
Bodie rolled to the side, expecting his friends to be given the same treatment. He counted four more crashes and groans, and felt a warm body roll against him and assumed they’d been lined up in the bottom of the boat like a row of pigs in blankets.
Shortly afterward, the craft set off, engines roaring, skipping over endless sets of gentle waves.
With his hands cuffed behind his back and his eyes and face covered, there was little Bodie could do except wait to see what deal fate handed them.
Thirty minutes later, the tone of the engine changed. The boat slowed, drifting into some unknown harbor. When it stopped and had been tied up, Bodie was again hauled to his feet and guided to the dock. A cold gust of wind stung his face and body, cutting right through his clothes. Bodie shivered. Wherever they were, it wasn’t the bloody Caribbean.
Propelled forward, he walked steadily, determined not to show his weariness. Bodie was shocked then when hands grabbed hold of his shoulders, bringing him to a stop, and his blindfold was wrenched off.
He blinked. He licked saltwater from his lips. Above, a dark sky, made silver by a three-quarter moon, was split in half by a jagged outcrop. Bodie saw cliffs ahead; steep, black cliffs rising hundreds of feet above the shore. The dock led to a set of stone steps that had been cut into the cliffs, affording a dangerous but direct route to their summit.
He realized now why the blindfold had been removed.
Nestling three-quarters of the way up the cliff face, Bodie thought he could see an opening framed by walls, perhaps the outer limits of a castle. Behind and all along the coast, the sea rolled and crashed against the cliffs, roaring in anger. Bodie saw the boat they’d been using tied to the dock.
Cassidy, Yasmine, Lucie and Jemma stood close by, staring at their surroundings and looking as disheveled, tired and uncertain as him.
Bodie tried, but couldn’t speak. One of their captors pointed forward, the unspoken command obvious. Climb the steps. Bodie saw eight high-powered machine guns trained on them and took a quick look at their owners before following orders. Their guards wore robes and hoods, their faces concealed in shadow.
The steps were narrow and slicked with seawater. Bodie placed his feet with care, taking his time. To start with, it was easy, but the higher they climbed the harder it became. Errant gusts of wind plucked and pulled at them, threatening to sweep them from the steps. The drop to their left became more deadly, sheer empty space leading only to the hard rocks below. Bodie hugged the inner cliff face, trying to stay big and squat, a boulder that would not be moved by a few playful blasts of wind.
Except they weren’t playful. They were dangerous. And the rain, mixed with droplets of sea, flicked at him like a cat-o-nine-tails, slicing at his face. Bodie felt his boot go out from under him, its sole slipping in water, and landed hard on his shoulder. It didn’t help that his hands were still tied. One of the guards heaved him to his feet and shoved him ahead once more, jabbing a finger upward. Bodie told him to fuck right off.
But he struggled on, step after dreadful step. The long journey had weakened him, but this finishing task was the last bloody straw. It sapped him completely so that by the time they had reached the top of the steps and stumbled inside a cave framed by stone pillars, he was utterly spent and fell to his knees.
Cassidy was instantly by his side, kneeling too and shouting in his ear. “We did it, Guy. We did it. Stay strong and let’s beat these assholes.”
Bodie looked up. The hooded men were standing around them. Some had thrown their hoods back to reveal bemused or even satisfied expressions. To a man, their faces were hardened, scarred and deadly.
Bodie noted their automatic weapons in addition to the knives at their belts. For now, they guarded them closely, but a time would come when at least one of them would slip. Bodie was sure of it.
And then...
“It is not yet time.” One of the hooded men spoke up, an act that surprised Bodie no end. “You will wait on the pleasure of the Master.”
“Bit late is it?” Cassidy challenged. “The Master tucked up in bed with a packet of shortbreads and a hot chocolate?”
Bodie wasn’t surprised to see her head snap back as one of the men struck her. After that they were pushed
