Vendetta (42 page)

The wind grew stronger around them, another sudden rush of noise in the distance gathering momentum.

Tears glittered in the bottom of Elena’s eyes. ‘But he wouldn’t. That night in the valley, no one could find Ryatin, so my father, being the honourable man that he was, assumed command. It was turning into a bloodbath, so Father went looking for the major.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘And found him drunk, singing some peasant song about wine and women, hiding in a truck. They quarrelled and Ryatin shot him dead. Shot him like a dog. My father. They gave Bolshoi a fucking medal? For killing my father . . .’

‘How could you have killed your sister . . . ?’

‘But Katia wasn’t my full blood, was she? After we left the embassy, we came back to my home and called our mother to find out if she knew about what Bolshoi had done.’ She swallowed. ‘She said she’d heard the rumours, but we shouldn’t believe them. He was a
good
man. She was talking so much . . . you know, wildly . . .’ Elena shook her head. ‘It just came out that Katia was his daughter. How my mother had betrayed my wonderful father.’

Her nostrils flared. ‘She said that she’d made a mistake.’ The words wrenched from her with such passion that Mac thought she was going to double over in pain. ‘Katia cried when she learned the truth, but I didn’t care, she was still my little sister. I told her that we had to kill him, but she wouldn’t do it. We quarrelled and she said she was going to call him . . .’ She drew in another deep breath. ‘I couldn’t allow her to live because she knew what I was going to do. So I called you first to set up our meeting at the hotel. Then I told Katia that we needed to talk more, so I persuaded her to come to the hotel . . .’

‘But you weren’t on the hotel’s security footage . . .’

“Because I used the fire exit round the back to get us in and picked the lock of the room. I had a change of clothing in my rucksack.’ The tone of her words changed as if she felt genuine pain at murdering her sister. ‘I gave her a drink laced with one of those date rape drugs . . . Dragged her to the bath. Put my clothes and bracelet on her and left my phone. Then I waited outside for you to come . . .’

“Knocked me out and killed her with my gun,’ Mac finished.

Seeing the look of horror on Mac’s face, Elena screamed, ‘She was
his
daughter and she proved it morally when the crunch came . . .’ She shoved out her arm, displaying the red star tattoo. ‘“To live with wolves you have to howl like a wolf.”’ She repeated the words proudly. ‘She had a choice. To be my sister – or his daughter. She made her choice. And I made mine.’

‘And what about all the other people you killed? The doctor? Sergei?’

Elena’s face hardened. ‘I took her to my doctor to confirm her pregnancy, so I needed to get rid of any evidence that I’d been one of his patients and the only way to make sure that happened was to shut up the doctor for good. And she might have told that maniac Sergei something. It wasn’t me that marked him for death, but her.’

‘How could you have killed her baby?’

Her answer was defiant. ‘It was Bolshoi’s blood, don’t you understand? That baby would’ve become just another player. They were all players; they knew the risks. With the right kind of money, it was easy to hire the right type of men at such short notice to make sure the doctor and Sergei remained silent for ever. I was going to put them on Bolshoi’s trail as well, but when I spoke to one of them I knew they’d fucked up, so I had to get rid of any traces of them as well.’ She inhaled deeply. ‘I could have killed you any time I liked . . .The fire at my home was just to keep you on your toes . . .’

‘Don’t kid yourself Elena. The fire was to keep me angry to find your ‘‘killer’’ You were just using me to carry out your dirty work . . .’

‘You were doing the same thing Mac, just using me to carry out
your dirty work.
That’s what undercover cops do – pretend to be someone they’re not and wriggle and lie their way into another person’s life.’

It was Mac’s turn to sound bitter. ‘If you’re expecting me to get down on my knees and kiss your feet for keeping me alive?’

‘Not me.’ Her voice softened like the movement of the wind around them. ‘Our baby.’

That shook him up. ‘There is no baby. Katia was the one who was pregnant . . .’

‘Are you sure about that? That’s why Bolshoi had to die, so he couldn’t hurt our baby as—’

‘You’re lying. You’re a taker of life, not a giver . . .’

Suddenly the wind kicked up around them. A roaring sound gathered pace behind Mac. He half turned just as Elena’s gaze intensified over his shoulder. A train coming in to the platform. Before Mac could react it had stopped and the doors opened. Mac instinctively went for the Glock, but he never made it because Elena started yelling and shrieking.

‘Help! This man is attacking me. Help!’

Passengers streamed onto the platform.

‘For God’s sake, help me.’

Faces turned towards them, including a group of three young men. Elena backed up. And screamed. That galvanised the men into action. They moved towards Mac as Elena backed off some more.

‘What’s your game, pal?’ one shouted at Mac.

‘I’m a police—’ But he didn’t have time to finish the sentence before he caught a punch across the face. He toppled onto his back. They closed in around him to finish the job. He pulled out the Glock.

‘Back the fuck way off,’ he warned.

The men scattered. Mac jumped to his feet. Elena was gone. His gaze darted in the half-light.

Shit.

He couldn’t see her. He looked right. Left. Looked . . . He found her, a running shadow heading for the footbridge that crossed to the other platform. The doors to the train closed as Mac ran the length of the platform. Heart pounding, he picked up pace as he leapt up the steps. Elena had reached the top. He sounded like a horse nearing the finishing line as he racked his speed to the next level. Mac reached the top as the Docklands train below began to shunt forwards. He didn’t miss a beat as Elena climbed onto the parapet of the bridge. Elena braced herself. Let go.

‘Bollocks,’ Mac cursed as he leaned over to see her land on the roof of one of the carriages. Slipping and sliding, he was sure she was going to fall off. But Elena regained her balance and clung to the roof as the train picked up speed.

ninety-nine

The audience on the platforms below who’d been watching Elena’s escape screamed, scattered and dived for cover as Mac began shooting wildly at anything that might possibly bring the departing train to a halt. He shot at junction boxes, signals and pylons until the magazine was empty. But the train rolled on.

He had one card left to play. Attached to his belt was the hand grenade that he’d threatened Bolshoi with earlier. He ran down to the now deserted platform. Pulled the pin and threw it onto the middle of the railway track. It rolled along the stones and came to rest. He watched, and only when it flashed did he remember that he was supposed to dive to the ground. The explosion threw him onto his back and sucked the air out of his lungs. The silent station reverberated to the sound of arcing electricity, falling stones and other debris. The track flashed and sparked in whites, blues and yellows with the hypnotic effect of a fireworks display.

When he recovered his wits, he looked down in the direction the train had gone. Fifty yards away, dark and silent, it had ground to a halt.

Like the train itself, his body and soul was at the end of the journey. He crawled on his hands and knees down the platform. Jumped up and ran the distance to where the train had stopped. The lights of the neighbouring towers lit up the roof of the train, but he could see no sign of Elena. He pressed on down the rails towards a bridge that carried the railway over a lock in the docks. Until he was tripped by a sack lying beside the tracks.

Only when the sack groaned with pain did Mac realise it was a body.

Elena.

He sat down and put his arm out to cradle her shoulder.

She stared back at him with an expression that reminded him of the woman he had once dared to dream of loving.

‘I fell off,’ she said hoarsely.

He used his shirt to wipe the cuts and scratches. Then began to fish around in his pocket for his phone.

She smiled at him in the half-light. ‘You’re not going to turn me in, are you?’

His thumb hovered over the phone, but he didn’t press any buttons. ‘Right now, you need an ambulance. We’ll worry about the other things later.’

He called an ambulance. He realised how vulnerable he was, cradling this woman protectively. Because he knew how easily this other Elena could manipulate him. ‘Can you get up?’

‘I don’t know. My ankle . . . Hurts.’

He pulled her to her feet anyway, ankle or no ankle. She slumped against him and he held her against his body.

‘Help me escape, Mac. I haven’t harmed anyone who didn’t need harming. Even killing Katia – she was Bolshoi’s daughter, as evil as he was. As for Reuben, Sergei and their gang, they would have all ended up dead anyway. I had to kill Bolshoi. It was no different to you setting out to kill the person who killed me. Remember what you said – anyone who harms me, you’ll kill them. Help me get abroad and then we can meet again later. I was going to get in touch with you. I promise. I knew you wouldn’t come to any harm. You’re my Mac . . . We could get a home in Europe. Me, you and the baby . . .’

‘Shut up, Elena . . .’

But she wouldn’t. ‘Find somewhere quiet. I’ve got money. Loads of it from Katia. Bolshoi gave her lots of money, that’s why she lived in that smart house. We could adopt Milos . . .’

Mac pushed her away. She fell to the ground as her ankle gave away.

‘And you were doing so well. Fancy reminding me of Milos . . .’

He turned his back on her. Made one more phone call. ‘Rio, listen. I’ve caught your killer. You might be a bit surprised at the perp, I’m afraid the DNA led you astray. I’m with her now. I’m taking her to hospital but it’s nothing serious. When we’re there, I’ll call again and you can get some people sent over . . . I’m not worried about Phil Delaney. He’ll look after me.’

Mac rang off and turned back to Elena. But she was gone.

She was sitting on the parapet of the railway bridge, looking down at the cold inky water of the once busy but now ornamental docks.

Mac laughed at her. ‘Going to throw yourself in? Go on then – you’ll save everyone a lot of time.’

‘I mean it. If you don’t help me escape, I’m going in.’

‘No, you’re not. You kill other people – not yourself.’

He moved towards her but she raised herself on her hands and tilted forward. In spite of himself, he was worried. ‘OK, take it easy. Don’t do anything stupid.’

He backed off slightly and she sat back. Mac looked around. For the first time that day he was wondering where the authorities were. No police, no ambulance. But then he remembered the crashed plane and the gun and grenade-blasted station and decided they probably had other things to do. So he did what police officers are trained to do in these situations. He started to negotiate. ‘Whatever you want I’ll do, but come off the bridge first.’

‘The only person who’s coming off this bridge is you. Now.’

He raised his hands slowly and backed off. Retreated twenty or thirty yards back down the tracks. When it was safe to do so, he dropped down, using the embankment as cover, and checked back on the bridge. Elena was climbing off the parapet. She hobbled slowly across and disappeared on the other side. Mac took deep breaths and prepared to make one final effort. He crossed the bridge, ducking low, hugging the parapet, staying out of sight. But he couldn’t resist taking a moment to look into the inky water forty feet below. He knew that water. He’d been swimming in it earlier and, with her wounded ankle, she wouldn’t have lasted five minutes if she’d gone in. He shivered, as if the murk was closing over his own head. He felt a lightness; he seemed to be floating in the blackness. Faces from the past came in and out of focus. But were they real or were they in his mind?

He lurched forward again, shaking his head in a desperate effort to bring himself back. She’d be nearby and he had to be ready for her.

Something clubbed him once, twice, on the side of his head. His legs gave way, but an arm locked round his neck, preventing his fall. The world swam around even more as he was dragged backwards.

‘You should have let me go into the water,’ Elena hissed into his ear.

He tried to move but was too dazed. With a strength he didn’t know she had, Elena hooked an arm under his thigh and half lifted and rolled him onto the parapet. She shoved him, making his head hang over the side.

Viewing the ripples of blackness below upside down was a scary sight. The dark, gently moving shapes and movement in the water seemed to form into a figure. Was that Stevie down there? His life ebbing away all over again?

When he felt her shove him again, he knew she wanted him to follow the fate of his son. Abruptly he found the strength from somewhere and seized her wrists; Elena sank her teeth into his fingers. He groaned, but didn’t let go. Used her body weight to pull himself upwards. Snapped her across his lap. Now it was his turn to dangle her head down towards the water. But he pushed too hard and Elena tipped over the edge.