Dead Men's Harvest

Chapter 37

Cain considered his new domain and hated it. The Queen Sofia was a rusting hulk, an ugly, sprawling container ship that carried with it a memory of all the nefarious activity it had been involved in over the years. Most recently it had been used to transport girls snatched from the Balkans and destined for the sex trade in the US. It was no better below decks; the interior of the ship was as unsavoury as the crewmen who worked there. He hated the stench of unwashed bodies, the grease that got everywhere and the ever-present acidic undertones of corrosion. He felt itchy, unclean, as if bugs crawled under his clothing and burrowed into his skin. He couldn’t wait to be off the vessel, back in the good clean air again.

He walked down the corridor — he couldn’t be bothered with all those fancy nautical terms — towards the rooms that Captain Grodek had made into temporary holding cells. At his shoulder walked Baron, seemingly as unconcerned with the filth and stench as he was with the blood now decorating the front of his jacket. Baron, to prove his allegiance to Cain, had shot fat Brady point-blank in his gut despite the blow-back from the wound. He’d stood there impassively while Cain had bent over the dying man and finished the job he’d started on his thumb. Cain nicked it off with the Recon Tanto and tossed it to Baron.

‘Hold that for me will ya, I’m all fingers and thumbs these days,’ Cain had quipped.

Baron hadn’t acknowledged the joke, just slipped the severed digit into a pocket for safe keeping.

Now Cain ignored the man’s presence; his wit seemed to be wasted on everyone these days.

They’d only had to kill another two of Grodek’s men. The others had grumbled at the sudden shift in command, but only until Cain had slaughtered the ringleaders. After that they acquiesced in his way of thinking. As long as they were paid for their efforts, they didn’t care who their masters were. Cain promised them a good pay day once this trip was over, and they bought it. The fact he’d no intention of being aboard the ship within the next couple hours didn’t matter. He was no fool. He’d used various means to cover his tracks while making contact with the black-ops controller, but it didn’t matter how many firewalls he directed the calls through, they’d have been tracked back to this ship. Chances were that Walter Hayes Conrad would consider having the ship torpedoed rather than allow him to escape a second time, which was why Cain had organised a second boat to take him and Jennifer elsewhere.

Cain fancied himself as a Prince of Chaos. He didn’t care if plans went to crap, for that was the nature of the universe he inhabited. Let Conrad nuke the ship if he wanted to, let him send an assault team of Navy Seals; all they’d find was a Mary Celeste when they got here. Cain’s plan was always adaptable, to take into account the whim of chaotic influence, and it didn’t matter that his original plan to lure John Telfer wasn’t as easy as he’d assumed. He was confident that Telfer would be delivered to him sooner or later.

He unlocked the letterbox hatch and peered through the slot, nodding in satisfaction at the empty room. Jennifer had been moved to somewhere less odious, as he’d commanded Pete Eckhart, the driver. By doing his bidding, Eckhart had proven his loyalty. He was one of the few who would be allowed to live when they disembarked the ship. Cain and Baron would have their hands full with Jennifer and whoever showed up to save her, someone had to steer the launch to land. Eckhart could always be disposed of later.

He glanced over his shoulder at Baron. The man was standing calmly, staring into space. Weirdo, Cain thought. He walked on and heard Baron falling into step behind him.

They took a turn in the passage, and approached another room. This one had a similar door to that of the first cell, with a hinged flap cut into the metal. Cain unlocked the hatch and let it drop with a clang. Inside, Jennifer didn’t respond. She was sitting in a chair, her wrists and ankles bound with leather straps. Her head hung down, her hair masking her features. Eckhart had reported that she’d refused to eat and had spat the mouthful he’d forked into her mouth back at him.

‘Wait here,’ Cain said. Baron pursed his lips, but stayed exactly where he was. Though he’d taken hold of the loose threads of Hendrickson’s organisation, Baron knew that he’d never control Cain. He’d offered his loyalty, though Cain suspected it was tenuous. It did the man good to be put in his place.

Opening the door fully, Cain stepped inside the room. It had been decorated to offer some comfort, but was still disgusting: the off-white walls, stained by who knew what, and smelly threadbare carpet reminded Cain of times he’d holed up in the cheapest of motels. Even his cell at Fort Conchar had been more stylish than some of those.

‘Do you remember when I brought you here?’ Cain stood with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking on his heels like a Gestapo interrogator. Jennifer made no move to reply or to even lift her head. ‘That time I had you drugged and carried here. I can have you drugged again, or you can walk. Which will it be?’

‘Where are my children?’ Jennifer’s voice was hoarse, not unlike Cain’s.

‘We’ve been over this before.’

‘If you’ve hurt them…’

‘What? What will you do? Kill me?’

‘Yes.’ Jennifer’s head finally came up and the look on her face was like that of a wild beast. Her lips peeled back from her teeth, and she stated the point more forcefully. ‘I will tear you apart.’

‘I love your spirit, Jennifer. If you weren’t already spoken for I’d ask for your hand in marriage.’ He looked at where her left hand was strapped to the chair, traced the lines of her metacarpals beneath the skin. ‘Actually, your hand would be all I’d take.’

‘I want to see my children.’

‘Didn’t you hear me?’ Cain wondered if she had surfaced enough from the drugs to have taken in anything when last he’d spoken to her. ‘They’re waiting for you back home in England. If you want to see them again you will have to do as I say. Now… are you going to answer my question?’

‘I’ll walk.’

‘Good. It’s so much easier if you do that.’

‘Did John come?’

Cain didn’t answer.

‘I told you he wouldn’t.’

‘He’s on his way now.’

‘Don’t bet on it.’

‘I think you should stop being so negative about John. It’s only because he’s agreed to come that you’re still alive. Why don’t you cut him some slack?’

‘Like he did for me you mean?’

‘Actually, he probably did you a big favour when he left. How did you manage to live with such an insufferable man for so long?’

‘You don’t know him.’

‘You’re wrong. John and I shared some quality time. I know what kind of person he is. He will come, you can be sure of that.’

‘He won’t, but Joe will.’ Jennifer peered at the scar tissue marking Cain’s throat. ‘Did Joe do that to you?’

Cain stretched his neck, fancying that he could hear the cartilage pop in his windpipe. ‘This is just a scratch.’

‘Next time he’ll finish the job. He’ll cut your head off to make sure you’re dead.’

Cain clapped his hands rapidly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. ‘You make it all sound so very exciting,’ he said gleefully. ‘I can’t wait.’

‘You should let me go now while you still have the chance.’

Cain went very still. ‘Oh, no, no, no. I think that you’re placing too much faith in Joe Hunter. Right now he’s a wanted felon, running around like a headless chicken. Does that sound like the kind of man who’s going to race in on a white charger and whisk you out of harm’s way?’

It was Jennifer’s turn to go still, but her jaw was set and she held his gaze. ‘You’re afraid of him.’

Cain knew that Hunter was a skilled and resourceful enemy. Though it pained him to admit it, he respected Hunter’s dogged approach to the chase, but fear him? No. He feared no man.

‘I’m only afraid he’s going to arrive late and miss what I’m going to do to John,’ he said.

A shiver ran its icy finger up Jennifer’s spine and he took that moment to step forward and place the tip of his Tanto beneath her left eye. ‘Now, Jennifer, this is the situation. You can walk out of here and do exactly as I say, and at the end of it I will release you. The alternative is that I cut off your face and leave you here for the rats. I do not need you. I can always find your children again. They would be sufficient to bait my trap.’

‘I’ll do what you say.’

‘Good. Get moving.’

‘I can’t walk anywhere strapped to this bloody chair.’

Cain withdrew the knife, smiled down on the woman. She had more spunk than he’d have given her credit for: it was something he could admire.

‘OK. No trouble from you, and we’ll get along fine.’ Cain turned and saw that his new partner was still standing motionless in the corridor. ‘Baron, come and loosen Mrs Telfer.’

Baron walked in as Cain stepped aside.

Cain nodded at the contraption on Baron’s hip. ‘Be careful, we’ve a live one here. First chance she gets she might go for your eyes. Maybe you should zap her first.’

Baron’s unclipped his Taser.

Despite what he’d just said, Cain did prefer it that Jennifer stayed alive. But her dig concerning Joe Hunter had stung. He couldn’t cut off her face — yet — but he could still punish her. That’ll teach her for insinuating I’m a coward, he thought as the room filled with an electrical crackle and corresponding scream.