Brute Force

37

He struggled for a while, not trying to escape, just trying to work out what the fuck was going on, and to breathe. He was flapping, and snorting like a horse. I moved with his chest as it arched up and down. Finally he lay still. No one will really fuck around once they realize they have a pistol in their mouth and it's not coming out.

I leant towards his left ear. His cheek smelled of coal tar soap. 'You have two choices. Die if you don't help me, live if you do. Nod if you understand.'

The pistol moved up and down.

It's always better to take your time at moments like this. If you've got somebody who's flapping and you say, 'OK, what's all this shit about Leptis?', he can't talk because he's got this weapon stuck in his mouth, so he gets all confused about what you expect of him. It's better to do it as a process of elimination. Then, once he got in the swing of things, I could grip him and get him spewing out everything he knew.

'If there's anyone else in the house, nod slowly.'

There was no movement of the pistol.

'Dogs?'

No movement.

'Anyone turning up before first light?'

No movement.

He gagged and his Adam's apple worked overtime. With his jaw wide open he'd lost his ability to swallow.

'It's Nick Stone. You remember.'

The pistol moved up and down, with purpose.

'That Libyan in Tripoli called you Leptis. Yes?'

He nodded.

'The only people who have that information are the Libyan, you and me, right?'

He nodded again.

'You put it in a report?'

His cheeks inflated and his lips bubbled. Saliva oozed from his mouth and down his chin. I could hear all the breathing and slurping, but there was just a touch too much hesitation. He was doing some serious thinking about what to say next.

'Don't second-guess. You don't know what I want to hear. Just tell the truth. If not, you're no good to me. Understand?'

The pistol moved up and down. I could feel his chest rising and falling more and more quickly; he was fighting for oxygen and there were too many obstructions.

He nodded.

Light sliced through the darkness outside. In the middle distance, towards the coast, two sets of headlamps moved along the road I'd parked beside.

'You still work for the Firm?'

Side to side.

Both vehicles had stopped about two hundred up the road, and both sets of lights cut.

'How many are coming?'

I pulled the weapon from his mouth and slammed it down on top of his head. Partly to control him, partly out of anger, I screamed with him. 'I wasn't the only fucker in that car . . .'

I pulled out the Explorers, turned them on and slung them back round my neck. I jumped off him and grabbed one of his socks and shoved it into his mouth, pulling down on his jaw to force him to take it all. Noise comes from the throat and below, not the mouth; for an effective gag, you have to ram the obstruction down as far as it can go, so that when your prisoner tries to scream, the sound can't amplify in the mouth. I also wanted him to be more worried about choking than raising the alarm.

I tied his shirtsleeve as tightly as I could around his mouth and at the back of his neck so I could use it as a lead, but kept his nose uncovered because he had to be able to breathe. Moans and groans sounded from the back of his throat as I dragged him onto the floor. I kept my Timberland over the sleeve to keep him down as I checked the darkness outside with the binos.

Now they'd checked out the Merc, the two cars moved towards the fork in the road, lights off and slow. I lost them for a few seconds behind the farm buildings.

They split, one down each side of the triangle.

The driver of the one to the right stuck his head out of the window for a clearer view. His passenger had something with him that gave off a gentle glow. As they passed the house, I pulled Lynn from the bedroom and towards the stairs. I dropped the pistol and grabbed the torch. I wouldn't be able to bluff these guys. I twisted open the lens.

The front door was the best option, then out into the open and use the outbuildings for cover. Then over fields to wherever, now the car was compromised.

It didn't matter where I was heading for now; the only thing that did was getting out of the shit and keeping Lynn with me. I hadn't found anything out yet.

I dragged him down the stairs. Blood glistened on his head and face. He stumbled as he tried to grab the shirt to ease the pressure on his mouth at the same time as following the torch beam.

We reached level ground.

I focused the light on the front door and pushed him against the wall, kicking him down onto the carpet to control him as I took the box-cutter out of my fleece, turned the torch off and released the Yale.

No time to be tactical. I wanted to be outside, in the dark and in cover.

I wrenched him off the floor and dragged him diagonally across the wet grass.