Heller's Punishment (24 page)

“Well, well,
what have we got here? A couple of lying, cheating, doublecrossing
whackos.” Then loudly to his mates, “Round the back! I’ve caught
some little piggies!”

He poked us
with his rifle and forced us back into the office building, into
the Head Farmer’s office. They made us kneel on the floor, our
hands clasped behind our heads.
The classic execution pose
,
I thought nervously, remembering Felicia and Paulie. The other four
gathered around us, grinning.

The bikie who’d
been shouting spoke first. He was an ugly man, his shaved head
covered with a spider web tattoo, his teeth brown with rot.

“Where’s the
fat bitch? Or that fucker, Jye?”

“They’ve gone.
All of them cleared out of here, leaving us behind,” I managed to
say, thinking of the children and little baby.

“Leaving you
behind to carry the can?” He slid his weapon behind my neck to lift
up my hair, an unnerving experience. “I haven’t met you before,
darling. I’d remember if I had. Are you new?”

I nodded, eyes
wide with fear, and I didn’t need to act. I was really scared. He
pointed the weapon at Simon. “I’ve seen you before. Out in the
fields. When I was at the lab. Do you know about the lab?”

We both shook
our heads vigorously in denial.

“So the fuckers
left behind a couple of patsies to carry the can for them. Fucking
ace,” he spat in disgust, scratching his pate with his free hand.
“Let me explain my position. Your friends promised me a delivery of
. . . produce. I paid for the produce, but haven’t received it.
When I enquired, in a most friendly way, when could I expect to
receive delivery, I was fobbed off. Time and time again, until I
got the shits. Since then though, a little birdie told me that my
produce has been sold to someone else.
My
produce! Which
I
paid for! Does that sound like a fair business transaction
to you?”

We both shook
our heads again.

“See, I’m a
little annoyed. Because of those fuckers, I’ve had to give up a
night with my family to come here and sort them out.
NCIS
is
on TV tonight and that’s my favourite show. I’m going to miss it.
Now I won’t know what Jethro’s up to. So you can appreciate why I’m
so pissed off.”

We both
nodded.

“Now I just
want some justice. I want my money back and I want the produce as
well to compensate me for my inconvenience. See, I’d already
promised to sell that produce to someone else, and now they’re
annoyed with me because I haven’t delivered. Makes me look like an
amateur and I hate that. So you two little innocents are going to
have to help me find some justice.”

He prodded me
with the rifle. “You’re a newbie. You won’t know shit, so no point
getting you to help.” He turned to Simon. “Up you get, sunshine. I
want you to find me some money. And if you don’t cooperate with me,
your little whacko girlfriend here is going to end up with some
extra ventilation in her head. Where do the fuckers keep the
money?”

He aimed his
weapon at my temple. It took everything I had to keep still, afraid
that he had an itchy trigger finger.

“I don’t know,
but there’s a safe behind that painting over there,” Simon was able
to keep his voice even. The bikie nodded to one of his mates who
stalked over, ripped the painting from the wall and dumped it on
the floor, revealing the small wall safe.

“Combination?”

“I don’t know.
I’ve never been trusted with it.”

The bikie
sighed wearily. “I hate patsies. They’re no fucking use whatsoever.
Fortunately, as you would have noticed from that little bang
earlier in the evening, we’ve brought our own materials.”

And he nodded
to another of his mates who placed some plastic explosives around
the safe. We all hustled out of the room while it was detonated,
creating quite a loud blast and considerably damaging the wall. But
it did the trick and the door to the safe dangled from one
hinge.

The bikie was
outraged though when he peered inside. There was nothing in there,
except for a piddly amount of cash – a couple of hundred bucks –
and some deed titles.

“
Where’s the
fucking money?
” he screamed at Simon.

“I don’t know!
They must have another safe. One I don’t know about,” he answered,
sounding admirably calm despite our desperate situation.

With another
nod, the other bikies went to work, tearing the room apart, ripping
down paintings, sweeping books off their shelves, breaking open the
filing cabinet and tossing its contents carelessly on the floor,
spilling the desk drawers. Nothing. The bikie was becoming
increasingly frustrated and I hoped that he wouldn’t take it out on
Simon and me.

“You two are
fucking useless,” he said to us with scorn. “No wonder they left
you behind. I should just fucking shoot you on the spot. At least
it would stop you breeding and bringing more whackos into the
world. Reggie, lock them up somewhere. I’m sick of the sight of
them. Not here though. We’re going to toss this place
thoroughly.”

They weren’t
going to find anything. The Head Farmer had probably taken the
money with her into the bunker. I didn’t know what would happen to
Simon and me when they realised the money wasn’t here, but I was
pretty sure it was going to be unpleasant for both of us.

Chapter
16

The bikie who’d
trapped us at the back of the office prodded us with his weapon and
forced us to walk in front of him out of the office door. He took
us to a small outbuilding. The door was unlocked, the key in the
door and he roughly pushed Simon inside, grasping me tightly around
the arm.

“I think I’ll
have a bit of fun with you first, gorgeous. Then you can join your
boyfriend again,” he said to me, then to Simon, “I love mixing
business with pleasure. And don’t worry, mate. I won’t hurt her.
Much.” Evil laughter.

Simon rushed
forward to protect me and after a brief struggle, the bikie used
the end of his rifle to wallop him viciously across the head.
Simon’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed at our feet. The bikie
laughed again and used his feet to roll Simon back into the shed,
closing and locking the door behind him.

I struggled
against him, but he only clasped my wrist tighter. Though I dug my
heels into the ground, he was strong enough to drag me along with
him without much effort.

“What’s the
matter, gorgeous? I thought you hippy-types were right into free
love. I’ve got some free love I want to share with you. I want to
squirt it down your throat actually. Hope you’re good at
deep-throating.”

He pulled me
behind the shed where it was dark and secluded. I did the only
thing that came to mind – I made myself go loose and floppy as if I
was fainting, not something easy to do when you’re scared stiff. He
had trouble dragging my dead weight along with him. And when I’d
collapsed to the ground, he couldn’t manage both his rifle and
me.

“Stupid bitch,”
he cursed me.

To him, I
appeared to be completely insensible. He stopped and laid his rifle
down to one side. He leaned over me, ungently slapping me across
the cheek.

“Wake up, you
dumb bitch.”

As he leaned
over me, I jerked up my right knee and cracked him on the chin,
slamming his jaw closed and causing him to bite his tongue. While
he reacted to that, I pushed him off me and jumped to my feet. I
kicked him in the face, wishing I was wearing my work boots instead
of the flimsy sandals. Something crunched and I think it was his
nose. He howled in pain. I dived down to seize his rifle from its
resting place and aimed it at his head, trying to hold it as if I
had a clue what to do with it. Blood trickled from his mouth and
nose.

“Okay, jerkoff,
turn around and place your hands on your head. Walk slowly back to
the front of the shed.”

He was slow to
do as I ordered so I poked him viciously in the back with the
rifle. At the front of the shed, I made him unlock the door and
pull Simon out, before pushing him inside with a judicious foot to
his lower back. I locked him in and tried to revive Simon. No good.
He was out cold, a huge lump forming on his temple. With the rifle
awkwardly stored under my arm, I used both arms to haul Simon away
from the building.
Where to go though?
I thought
desperately, worried the other bikies would soon come looking for
their buddy.

I decided on
the hall because it had a small bathroom to one side where I could
lock us in and give Simon some first aid. But to reach the hall, I
had to drag him right across the compound, in the open, afraid that
I’d be seen and stopped. It was slow going, but we made it inside
the hall with me sweating and my arms aching with the effort.

I didn’t want
to alert anyone to our location, so didn’t switch on any lights. I
fumbled around in the bathroom in the dark, dampening some tissues
and holding them to Simon’s lump. Slumped on the floor, I tried to
plan our next step. There was nowhere safe for us to hide in the
compound, especially as the bikies had explosives. They might
decide to blow up every building, just because they were angry.

If I could get
Simon to come around, we could escape into the fields and at least
wait the bikies out. They couldn’t stay here forever, and at least
out in the open we would be safe from any more explosions. Maybe we
could even start walking to the nearest town to raise the alarm. I
thought about the Kombi, but immediately ruled it out. Even if I
knew where the keys were kept, the noise was sure to attract the
attention of the bikies. They might have even disabled it
earlier.

I wet some more
tissues and had just placed them on Simon’s temple again, when a
burst of gunfire sounded nearby. It was answered by a more distant
burst. I rushed to the small external window, and could make out
people creeping around in the dark, but couldn’t identify them.
More bikies? I hoped not.

As I returned
to Simon, the little window exploded with another round of gunfire,
spraying glass over both of us. The door to the hall flung open and
I heard men stomping around, shouting at each other and some more
loud gunfire. Heart pounding, I climbed onto the vanity and peered
out of the small window over the door that looked into the hall.
Tears of relief flooded my eyes when I spotted three
Heller’s
men, wearing their distinctive black uniforms. I
jumped down, threw open the bathroom door and instantly had three
rifles pointing at me. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

“Hold fire!”
yelled one urgently, his familiar features bringing more tears to
my eyes. And I didn’t care that the other men were watching and
would tell Heller, I ran over to hug him fiercely.

“Hugh! I’ve
never been so glad to see your ugly face before!” I smiled at him
through my tears.

“Crying like a
girl again, Chalmers?” he tutted, shaking his head. “You’re
embarrassing yourself, as usual. And God, what the fuck are you
wearing? You look ridiculous.”

I peered down
at my shift, which was quite dirty by now, and pulled a face. “I
know.”

“Would love to
talk fashion all night, but we have to get moving. The boss ordered
us to find you and hustle your fat arse out of here.”

“We have to
take Simon with us. He unconscious.” I led the men to the
bathroom.

“Shit,” said
Farrell under his breath. “That’s a complication we don’t
need.”

He leaned down
and hauled Simon over one shoulder, slinging his rifle over the
other. I picked up the rifle I’d taken from the bikie. Farrell
looked at it in surprise.

“How many of
them have you knocked over?” he asked.

“Just one.”

“You’re losing
it, Chalmers. Thought you’d have them all sorted by now. Do you
know how to use that weapon?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t fire it
then. You’re likely to kill one of us instead.” Frankly, I thought
that was good advice. “Let me check to make sure the safety’s
on.”

“Okay,” he said
to us after he’d done that. “We have . . . how many combatants,
Chalmers?”

“Five, but
one’s locked in that small building over there.”

“Four active
combatants. Judging by the gunfire, all in the vicinity of the
large building in the middle. Forget about them. We don’t care
about them. Leave them for the cops to deal with. We just want to
get past them. They’re engaging us, but we’ll try not to engage
them any more than necessary for our safety. Our job is to bring
Chalmers back to safety and that’s it. Everyone clear?”

We all
nodded.

“We’re going to
run, single file, down low, across the open space to that building
over there. We’ll reconvene there. Everyone ready?”

We all nodded
again.

“Let’s go!”

And we ran,
Farrell struggling under Simon’s unconscious weight. A burst of
gunfire made the dirt jump around us and a rock flung up at me,
stinging my right upper arm. An answering round of gunfire from the
opposite side of the compound surprised me. There were more people
here than the three men with me.

We all made it
safely to the target building and waited there for another
opportunity to run to the next one.

“Are there more
men here?” I asked Farrell, clutching my arm. It stang. A damp
stain of blood spread across the sleeve of my shift.

“We’ve brought
a whole battalion to rescue you, Chalmers. What’s the matter with
your arm?”

“I don’t know.
It just suddenly started hurting.”

He pulled up my
sleeve and sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve managed to get
yourself winged by a bullet, haven’t you? The boss is going to kill
me.”

“Sorry, Hugh,”
I said sheepishly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Does it
hurt?”