The Lost Labyrinth

IV

Lying on his side in the rear of the van, his wrists tied behind his back, Knox heard the roar of a take-off, and knew they'd reached the airport. A speed-bump was like a jab in his ribs, still aching from the water-boarding. They stopped and then reversed, presumably into a parking bay. He didn't have the first idea how to play this. He looked up at the big man; his arms folded, he stared implacably down. He'd get no joy there.

The passenger door opened and Mikhail climbed inside. He knelt on the passenger seat and reached back, grabbing Knox by his hair and pulling him towards him, then up onto his knees. 'I'm going to take off your gag now,' he said, touching his knife against his throat. 'You're not going to make a sound. What you are going to do is tell me exactly where this key is. Do you understand?' He waited for Knox to nod, then he loosened the gag, allowing him to spit it from his mouth, so that it dangled around his neck like some macabre medallion.

'Well?' asked Mikhail.

The corners of Knox's mouth were dry and sore. He licked some saliva balm onto them. 'I need to be able to see,' he said. Mikhail swayed back out of his way. He leaned forward. The Metro and railway lines were to Knox's left, the gleaming terminal building was to his right, and directly ahead and above was the enclosed walkway connecting the two. And, around the lot itself, a wide but well-trimmed hedge, much as he'd remembered.

'Well?' asked Mikhail.

'We were over the other side,' he said, nodding at a stretch entirely taken up by parked cars. It was just his bad luck that a 4x4 chose that moment to pull out, leaving a slot free for Boris to drive in to.

'Well?' asked Mikhail, once they were parked again.

'I can't see from in here. Let me out and I'll get it for you.'

'Sure,' scoffed Mikhail. He increased the pressure on his blade. 'I'd advise you to start remembering.'

'Augustin hid it, not me,' said Knox.

'But you were with him?'

'Yes.'

'Well, then.'

'It's about two thirds of the way along this side,' Knox told him. 'It's by the base of one of the shrubs. He scratched his initials in the bark.'

'And his initials are?'

'AGP.'

Mikhail nodded. 'Go,' he told Davit and Boris.

'Yes, sir.'

Knox watched with a sinking heart as they walked off on their futile search, while Mikhail's knife pressed cold as ice against his throat.