Private Dublin

Chapter 79

Sam Farrell approached me and said, “Hold him.”

The two bodyguards tightened their grip on me and Sam slugged me in the gut, knocking the wind from me.

“I’m going to do what I should have done in LA,” he said, and nodded at my captors.

At his signal, they dragged me out of the courtyard to a small parking lot located behind the old stables. There were eight cars and a couple of unmarked vans.

Sam climbed behind the wheel of a silver Ford Transit and as the bodyguards manhandled me into the cargo compartment, I saw Andi get behind the wheel of a black Mercedes GLS, and Raymond Chalmont take the passenger’s place beside her.

The larger of the two bodyguards pulled the side door shut and Sam started the engine. The second bodyguard pushed me onto one of the bench seats. He and his companion sat either side of me and pressed close as Sam drove us out of Finch’s estate. Through the windows in the rear doors, I could see Andi and Raymond following in the Mercedes.

The headlights of the van illuminated the narrow lane, thick with shadows from the trees overhanging it on both sides. Ominous clouds hung on the horizon, still with the weight of an impending storm, crowding the light from the night sky. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of desperation as these evil and twisted men drove me to my fate.

We emerged from the lane and came to an intersection where we turned onto a main road cutting between hills and fields that remained indistinct under the dark skies. The van gathered speed on the deserted road, and I realized I might not have a better chance than this.

I moved suddenly, catching the larger of my captors with a vicious headbutt on his temple, using my skull to inflict as much pain as possible. He crumpled to one side, clutching his head, giving me the space to lean over and bring my elbow into the nose of the startled smaller man. As his hands went up to protect his face, I reached round and punched him in the stomach. I stood to unleash a furious volley of further punches and kicks to the men.

While I delivered the frenzied assault, fighting for my life, I sensed the van slow and turned to see Farrell braking hard, while reaching for something in his waistband. I rushed toward him, and he tried to fend me off with one hand as he kept the other on the steering wheel.

I punched him, grabbed the wheel and yanked it as hard as I could. The van veered onto two wheels with the sharp turn. Momentum fought gravity, and I braced myself as best I could as the vehicle rolled over onto its side.