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Authors: Chris Allen

BOOK: Avenger
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CHAPTER 54

Jovana helped Morgan into the cabin and laid him down on the bare concrete. She gently cradled his head in her hands before easing it down to the floor. He let out a deep, exhausted, grateful sigh. She examined him by torchlight. He was naked but for a pair of shorts. His face was swollen and the skin of his cheeks and lips was split. There was a deep cut in his right thigh, which looked like it had been slashed by a knife, and his legs were covered in leeches. The rain had been washing the blood away, but now that they were undercover it began to run freely again.

She took off the soaking wet sweater she was wearing and then peeled off the T-shirt underneath. The shirt was marginally less wet than the sweater so she used it to dab the blood from his face before wrapping the shirt firmly around the gash on his leg.

“You’re pretty good at this,” he said. His voice was rasping and shallow.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” she replied, thinking of her friends, other girls she’d nursed and cared for when Drago had finished abusing them. “You’re not one of them, are you?”

“One of Kajkowski’s crew? No,” he said. “I definitely am not. Speaking of which, we have to get out of here.”

He sat up, gingerly, and picked up the torch and turned it on himself. There were at least twenty leeches, each the size of a large finger, sucking greedily on his legs. He asked her for the knife and then began the painful process of cutting and lifting the parasites from his sodden flesh.

“Where did you get this?” he asked. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said. “I found it in your room. I snuck away from her and was coming to find you, to ask you to help me get away. I was on the stairs coming down when I heard Godek and the others burst into your room. I was too scared to make a sound. I waited on the stairs. Did they use electricity?”

“Yeah, they did.”

“That’s what they use on the girls they bring back here; the ones who won’t cooperate. They took you down the other stairs and when they were gone – I don’t know why – I raced into your room. I found your knife in your bag and then I followed them. I saw them dragging you out here. They were drunk out of their minds, laughing and kicking you all the way past the pool. You started to come ’round just before they reached the gate and that’s when they began to beat you. It was horrible to watch but I didn’t know what else to do. I just hid among the trees, clutching the knife. Hoping they wouldn’t find me.”

Morgan held his ribs, as if recalling the beating. Jovana ran her palm over his hair and face.

“Godek likes to hurt people – likes to kill. He enjoys being cruel,” she said. “You must be very strong. He didn’t kill you.”

“I suppose that’s something,” Morgan replied, still cutting away leeches. “How the hell did you end up out here?”

“Once they’d finished beating you, they were falling over everywhere, they were so drunk. I knew they would bring you here. It’s what they do when they want to do bad things to someone.”

“Do you know anyone named
Ş
tefania Yovenko?”


Ş
tefania! Yes. How do you know her? Did she get away?”

“I’m afraid not,” he replied. “I believe they brought her out here last night.”

Jovana sighed. She was used to loss.

“They took her away days ago, from her room. Godek did it. I heard him. Heard her screaming,” the girl said absently. “They probably kept her out here and used her until they were ready to kill her.”

“Did you know her well?”

“No. We only met once. I think she was one of the Witch’s robots, too. No, not robot. What is that English word? Clone. Yes, a clone – like me. She tried to warn me. Warned me about the Witch, about what they would do to me if I didn’t perform, you know. I told her I already knew what they could do.”

“You’re a very brave girl, Jovana,” said Morgan. “But why are you helping me? You don’t know me at all. I could be just like them.”

“You are nothing like them. I know men, believe me. I heard the Witch talking about you with Dariusz and Godek. They didn’t want you here, but she did. She is frightened for her safety. She doesn’t care about anyone else. They argued about you. I listened. You’re an outsider, some kind of security person. When I saw you upstairs tonight, showing her the cameras, I knew you were not one of them.”

“You’re the one who was in her room?”

“Yes,” she replied. “She doesn’t like anyone from the outside to see me. I’m supposed to hide all the time until she thinks I’m ready. But you should know, she plans to kill you once this whole thing with the Chinese is settled. She doesn’t trust Dariusz or Godek any more, so she used you to protect herself from them. You’ve been useful to her so far but when the meeting is all done, the Chinese will kill you for her. She told me.”

“How clever,” he mused. “That poor-little-me act … I did wonder.”

“No, she’s crazy. She can be sweet and tender and caring sometimes. But when the other one appears, the Witch, that’s when she is dangerous.”

“Are you two … lovers?”

“At first I thought it wasn’t so bad. She was gentle with me. Nothing like the men I have known; they were animals. I thought she really cared about me. She told me she was once a girl just like me, knew what I had been through because she’d been through the same. I believed her. It felt nice to be cared for, to be loved. I’ve never had that before. But then I realized there were two sides to her, possibly more. What she wants, she takes. When she is the Witch, she abuses me just like the men did. She is disgusting. I have to go along with it. I know what happens if I don’t.” Jovana’s eyes followed the beam of the torch to the metal-framed bed in the center of the cabin and she shuddered, holding herself tightly. “You have to get me out of here. Do you understand?
You have to.
I can’t stay here anymore. I have to get away from her.”

She began to cry, quietly at first and then so uncontrollably that she fell into Morgan’s arms. She had never cried so hard in her life. Finally she felt safe. Somehow she knew that this man would save her.

After a few minutes, he lifted her up so that they were both sitting again, facing each other.

“Jovana,” he began, “I will get you out of here, you have my word. But I need you to be brave for just a few more hours. Can you do that?”

She nodded, sniffing and wiping her face on the sleeve of her sweater.

“OK,” he said. “Now, I need you to tell me exactly where Godek and his friend went after they’d tied me up for the crocs.”

“That’s easy. They did what they do most nights. They went back to their rooms to get more drink then they sat around under the verandah near the pool, drinking and talking shit, and then they fell asleep on the loungers. Why? What will you do next?”

“I have an idea, but first we need to get you back to your room.”

CHAPTER 55

Thirty minutes later, Alex Morgan was running again – more like shuffling – back along the thin line of the coast road, parallel to the mangroves, just as he had done the night before. This time his body was failing him. The deep gash in his leg had slowed him down significantly and the workover they’d given his ribs and back was making every breath a painful experience. Despite all that, he was alive and he was moving – not so fast as last night, but he wasn’t being drowned then shoved into a crocodile’s meat locker and tenderized either. Thank God for small mercies, that was what his mad Catholic mom would have said. He laughed. She always berated him whenever he called her a mad Catholic. What would she be doing right now? Probably making a cup of tea and sitting down to a quiet evening in front of the TV. Like a normal person. Normal. Morgan had no idea what that was like.

Exhaustion and pain were streaming a bizarre collection of disparate thoughts and ramblings through his mind. He had to stay clear-headed, just for one more day, if he was going to bring them all down.

With Jovana’s help he’d managed to get back inside the compound. They’d skirted the pool via the gardens, with Jovana leading, until they reached the rear verandah. The rain had abated; more drizzle than downpour.

“Look,” she’d said, and grabbed his arm. “Up there. Can you see? There they are, all three of them.”

Sure enough, Morgan had seen Kajkowski and two of his minions passed out on sunloungers up on the verandah. They wouldn’t present any problems unless Morgan walked right up and woke them personally, so he’d known he had some time. Jovana had led him back to her room, opened the door and ushered him inside.

“Come in quickly and I will help you with your wounds.”

“Are you sure she won’t notice that you’re gone?”

The girl had shaken her head. “Every night she takes a sleeping pill when she’s done with me, and when she’s asleep I leave and come back here. She doesn’t care. Now, sit down over there while I get the medical box.”

Morgan had agreed on the basis that if he didn’t deal with it now, the wound on his leg would get much worse. Jovana had found a first aid kit, cleaned the wound with antiseptic and then bandaged it firmly. He’d taken the rest of the antiseptic and a couple of bandages, and then, reassuring her that he’d be back within twenty-four hours, he’d quickly returned to his own room. There he’d collected some key items like his trainers, trackpants, shirt, a credit card and some cash and, after a frantic search, his trusty old TAG Heuer. The band must have broken during the scuffle when they were Tasering him and thankfully the watch had dropped out of sight. He’d also found his phone on the floor, cleared some data from it and then stamped on it to break the screen. The Beretta had been taken, no doubt by Kajkowski. So, whatever was left, the general stuff like his toiletries and other clothes, he’d thrown all over the room then set to work overturning a chair and bedside table. When he’d finished, he’d headed off.

Out on the road and running in total darkness with only the light rain for company, Morgan maintained a steady shuffle. He had a plan and needed some backup. He knew where he could get it. It took him the best part of two hours to make his way back into the village. It was 3am and he was almost on his last legs. There was no one else around. All the bars had cleared out and the heavy rain earlier had sent the last of the diehard drinkers packing.

Morgan meandered his way through the back streets that led to a couple of the main beachside bars he’d seen on the tourist brochures. The ability to note and file away trivial information that could potentially be useful was a fundamental skill of any secret agent; often their life depended on it. In this case, Morgan needed an ally who could help him mobilize the forces he needed to take down the Night Witch and, if possible, Wu Ming and the representatives of the secret investment cartel. It would all depend on careful timing and whether Voloshyn fell heavily enough for his deception plan.

Finally he arrived at the Drop Zone Bar. The lights out front were off and all the shutters had been pulled down and padlocked. But it was the lights in the apartment upstairs that he was most interested in. He took hold of the old wooden railing and began to climb the stairs. Every second step brought a fresh stabbing pain in his thigh. He knew that the wound had opened again and the dressing would definitely need to be changed. If he’d recalled the information he’d been given correctly, then the guy who owned this bar would know exactly what to do.

After struggling all the way up, Morgan banged hard on the door. Inside, a dog, a big one from the sound of it, barked from deep down in its broad chest. A guard dog – a good sign. Fitted the profile of the owner that Morgan had in mind.

“Heel, boy!” He heard the short, sharp command through the window beside the door. The silence that instantly followed told him the dog was used to obeying its master.

“Who is it?” a deep voice called out.

“George Hemsworth?” Morgan answered, his breathing labored. “You don’t know me, George, but AJ Armstrong sent me. Told me if I was in trouble I should come straight to you.”

There was a slight delay but then the door opened and Morgan found himself face to face with an older man, about six foot tall and built like a rugby fullback. Morgan put his age at about fifty, give or take. The dog, a German Shepherd, appeared by his master’s side, eyes fixed on Morgan and a growl brewing in the back of its throat.

“You better come in then,” said George. He helped Morgan drop into a chair set by a heavy wooden kitchen table. Then he fetched some water and handed it to Morgan, who downed it all. “AJ told me to expect you. What’s your name, son, and what’s this all about?”

“Morgan. Alex Morgan,” he replied. They shook hands. “Ex-3PARA. I’m told you’re an ex-member of the regiment too. 2PARA and Pathfinders, wasn’t it?” From his pockets Morgan produced the bandages and antiseptic he’d taken from Voloshyn’s villa and laid them out on the table. He leaned heavily on its top, exhausted.

“You’re never an ex-member of the Parachute Regiment, son. You’re either a serving member or a former serving member. But you never leave the regiment, because the regiment never leaves you. You’d do well to remember that.”

“You’re right,” he replied. “Forgive me.”

“Forgive me? Oh, Jesus! You’re an officer. I’ll have to fumigate.”

“Yep.” Morgan laughed. “Major. You?”

“I worked for a living, son,” said Hemsworth. “Color sergeant and, yes, I was with 2PARA and the Pathfinders.”

“Well, I’m bloody glad to meet you, Color Sergeant Hemsworth. I just hope you can help me.”

“How about I start by sorting out whatever’s wrong with you while you tell me what the fuck’s going on and what you need, and we’ll take it from there.”

Hemsworth made sure the door was locked again. At a click of his fingers, the dog lay down on the mat in front of it. Then, with a wry smile, Hemsworth grabbed a bottle of Captain Morgan Old Jamaica Rum from a shelf and poured them each a glass.

“Get that into you,” he said. “Looks like you need it.”

“Thanks. Why are you up at this hour?”

“You think an old man like me should be tucked away in bed or something, do you? I only shut the fucking bar at two. It takes me some time to wind down. I was just about to turn in as you bashed on my fucking door.”

“Right. Sorry. Listen, George, are we alone here?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The missus is back in England visiting her sister.”

“Good. I work for Interpol and I’m investigating a global human trafficking cartel, which is being run from right here in Placencia.”

“Jesus!” Hemsworth exclaimed. “Is it that Russian bitch who lives up on the north road?”

“Yes. What makes you say that?”

“Fuck, I’ve had a feeling she was into something bad, but I didn’t know what. She’s been buying the place out from under everybody. She’s become quite the influence around here. The wife and I don’t like it. We’re talking about moving once I can get enough money together. Human trafficking? Fuck me. Bitch! What do you need?”

“There are some out-of-towners arriving here later today. They’re all major players in the same line as her and I plan to arrest them, along with the Russian. Now, I don’t want to get you any more involved than I already have but I’m kind of desperate and I need some reliable backup. It could be dangerous. You up for it?”

“Whatever you need, if I can do it, I will.”

“AJ said I could rely on you.”

Morgan and Hemsworth spent the next thirty minutes working their way methodically through Morgan’s plan. Every problem he raised, Hemsworth met with a solution. Eventually, they reached an agreed and, most importantly, achievable strategy.

“So, all I need now is a phone, a computer and, if it’s OK, a spot to get my head down for a few hours.”

“I’ve got a spare cell phone I keep up my sleeve, just in case. I’ll charge it up and have it ready for you by the morning,” said Hemsworth. “You can doss down there in the spare room. We’re about the same size so I’ll get you some clothes. Meanwhile, you can use this to make your calls and I’ll get you the laptop once I’ve sorted out that leg and whatever else is wrong with you.”

Without another word and with the faultless economy of effort particular to former warriors, Hemsworth grabbed a telephone handset from a wall-mounted cradle and brought it over. Morgan immediately got to work on his calls back to London as Hemsworth gathered a collection of medical supplies from a cabinet beside the fridge, sat down opposite him and prepared to clean and dress the wound on Morgan’s thigh while casting an appraising eye over the Intrepid agent’s face, checking the rest of the damage.

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