The Accidental Warrior Page 17

  “That must be it,” she said out loud.

  How clever, to hide a directory of your most important and influential clients disguised as lists of numbers in a mundane looking note book. But why hadn’t they been found amongst the exhibits?

  Harriet closed her eyes. E61715, that was it, the exhibit number! A short while later she decided to leave a message for Derek and Mike, believing that she would likely be dead by the time they found her. She scribbled on the wall.

  Harriet had now been incarcerated in the tiny damp room for more days than she could recall. That evening the young girl appeared with a sandwich and another bottle of water. There was no plan, but as the girl placed the items on the bed Harriet leapt on the girl’s back, jabbing the pencil in her hand into the girl’s neck. The girl cried out in pain and crumpled into a heap on the bed, knocked off balance by the speed of the attack. Deftly, Harriet tied the girl to the bedstead with the electrical cable that had been used to tie her. Half way through, Harriet paused to listen; silence, no-one had heard. She tore a strip of bed sheet off and used it to gag the young girl, whose large tear-filled eyes looked entreatingly back.

  “I’m so, so, sorry, you’ve been nothing but kind to me. I hope I haven’t hurt you too much? But I had no other choice, death is all that is left for me here.” To her utter surprise the girl nodded in apparent agreement.

  Cautiously, Harriet left the room. She found herself in a long corridor with no carpets, just floor boards. Her whole body was shaking. She could hear female laughter below. Not willing to risk the main staircase she explored the other end of the landing instead. To her relief, there was a small staircase at the far end. Probably the old servants’ stairs. Thinking that the narrow staircase might lead down to an old scullery or kitchen, she took off her pumps and tip-toed her way down, eventually reaching a hallway just off the old kitchen. The flag-stones were cold underfoot.

  At the end of the hallway was a door to the outside. Listening intently for any sign of movement, she made a dash for the door. Cautiously she turned the handle, but the door would not budge. She tried again, with mounting alarm. Unable to locate a key, she began to panic. Entering the scullery, she tried each window in turn but they would not budge, they seemed to be painted shut. With a mounting sense of doom she moved into the old kitchen, but found the same problem. She was about to give up when she spotted a sash window behind the sink. Leaning across she took hold of the brass handles and yanked them with all the strength she could muster. To her utter relief, the window slowly began to edge open, but it was stiff. Climbing into the sink, she gave the window another yank. It opened sufficiently to allow her to squeeze through and drop to the ground.

  The air was cold, it made her catch her breath. Carefully, she felt her way around the back of the house towards the front lawn area, only to hear voices approaching. Breathless, she froze. Unsure what to do she looked around her for somewhere to hide. She saw an old coal bunker to her left and just managed to dart behind it as two female guards with Doberman dogs walked past. She held her breath; she could hear radio chatter which meant there were others on site. Her plan to simply walk out of this nightmare was shattered.

  Fearing the dogs might detect her scent she retraced her steps before setting off in the opposite direction towards an old stable block. Finding the stables had been converted into garages, she looked for somewhere to conceal herself. There was a pile of old tarpaulin on the floor. She crawled under an old Land Rover Defender, and pulled the tarpaulin over her.

  CHAPTER 28

  Dawn broke. Cold and stiff, Harriet rubbed her eyes. Bloodied and bruised, her whole body was tender. Just for the moment, her natural optimism left her. She wasn’t sure if she could be bothered to move. Somehow, she knew she had to muster the energy, but the Doberman dogs were a real problem, and she guessed that by now her flight had been discovered.

  Raised voices and barking dogs brought her back to consciousness. She listened intently; the disturbance seemed to be coming from the front of the house. Weak and exhausted, she dragged herself to her feet and made her way towards the fracas, using the walls of the old stable yard to steady her. It was a cold September morning. She shivered, for she wasn’t dressed for such conditions. Her thin cotton leggings and baggy tunic failed to keep the cold breeze from penetrating her battered body. It took her some time to negotiate her way around the kitchen garden to a corner section, where she found a small gap to peer through.

  On the driveway were several individuals. Harriet could see security uniforms and Dobermans. As she looked more closely she counted four females being restrained by guards. Dressed in camouflage gear, they didn’t look dissimilar to the covert police teams Harriet was familiar with. Although they fought to break free, they were overwhelmed.

  Further away, Harriet spotted another group of security staff marching a single female towards the others. Although not close enough to hear what was being said she saw the situation escalate as one of the captive women was struck in the face and another kicked in the stomach. Then she spotted Cleo and her heart sank, for she knew this was as serious as it could get and there would certainly be casualties.

  The mere sight of Cleo made Harriet shudder. She was now quite sure she was a psychopath. Harriet sensed she was unlikely to survive another encounter with her.

  Cautiously, she edged her way around the side of the walled vegetable garden to find a better vantage point. The garden had clearly been spectacular in its day. As she walked, she passed the remains of large glass greenhouses, a stone-built dove cote, bee-keeping equipment and, most amazing of all, a pineapple hothouse.

  As Harriet reached her new position, she could see Cleo clearly. She was little more than a metre away and appeared to be deep in conversation with a tall, athletic, beautiful young woman. Indeed, the two women could have been sisters, so similar were they. The second woman, however, had a grace, a presence, that Cleo lacked and, despite the seriousness of the situation, appeared calm. It struck Harriet that she looked remarkably like the woman on the CCTV footage from the hotel in Sheffield. Despite everything, Harriet was intrigued.

  Edging slightly closer, she strained to hear the conversation taking place on the lawn of what had undoubtedly been an impressive and elegant country residence in its day. She surveyed the sweeping drive that had once welcomed aristocratic horse-drawn carriages, now unkempt and overgrown with weeds. The outline of the formal gardens was just discernible above the overgrowth. And there was just the hint of terracing.

  “What have you done with her, Cleo?”

  “Why the interest, Kate?”

  “You know better than to ask me that,” came the curt response.

  “You’re right, I do, but there is no way that I am handing her over without an explanation, and even then I’m unlikely to.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Well, I’d hardly say you’re able to bargain. What were you thinking? You amateur. You’ve no idea how much I will enjoy extracting the truth from your friends over there.” And with that she shouted across.

  “Are they talking yet?”

  Harriet could see two or three heads shaking in response.

  “Try pulling their teeth out one by one. Get some pliers and pull out all their teeth.” She swung around. Harriet ducked, remaining unnoticed for now.

  “For God’s sake Cleo, please don’t!” shouted Kate. “This is absolute madness, leave them alone, they’re young. If you need someone to take it out on then that would be me.”

  The sickening sound of high pitched shrieking started to drift across the lawn.

  “Cleo, stop, please stop. It’s barbaric!”

  “You should have thought of that before you embarked on this ridiculous rescue mission. I won’t give her up. Now tell me why you really want her?”

  “I can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t. Has it got something to do with that secret organisation you belong to?”

  “Stop playing games, Cle
o, and let them go, please.”

  “No, I don’t think I will.”

  “Let them go and let her go. You can have me.”

  “Tempting, but no I don’t think so, unless you want to tell me about your secret society?”

  Harriet didn’t understand what was going on. It was surreal. Torture? Really? What the hell was she mixed up in? And, who were they talking about, who did they both want so badly?

  “Look, I’m not leaving without Harriet Lacey. I will rescue her, or I’ll die trying.”

  “How melodramatic, Kate, but you’re not having her. Really, why would you risk yourself for a meddling copper? She has spirit, I’ll grant you, but she’s such a stubborn bitch. Tell me why you want her so much?”

  “Cleo, if I thought you were capable of understanding I might consider it, but you are so focussed on yourself you can’t see the bigger picture.” And with that Kate swung at Cleo, striking her hard in the face and knocking her to the ground.

  Harriet stood motionless, heart pounding. It had never occurred to her that she was the topic of the overheard conversation. What should she do now? She hesitated. Whatever the reason Kate wanted her, it surely had to be better than the prospect of being re-captured by Cleo? In any case, she couldn’t sit by, even in her sorry state, and watch those young women suffer any further.

  As fast as her poor body would allow, she limped back to the old stable block to the dilapidated Land Rover Defender. With no real experience of hot-wiring cars, she was relieved to find the keys in the ignition. As she clambered into the driver’s seat she turned the key and the vehicle burst into life. Revving the engine, she put the car into reverse and floored the accelerator. The car shot out of the garage.

  Harriet made straight for Cleo and Kate, who were still fighting. The sight of the approaching vehicle was enough to separate them. Harriet drove straight at Cleo, only turning at the last minute, but not before clipping her left side. Cleo howled as she collapsed. Selecting reverse, Harriet sped back, skidding on the wet grass before pulling alongside Kate.

  “Get in!” Harriet screamed. Kate quickly obliged. As they sped across the lawn, Harriet noticed Kate was staring at her. Glancing at her forearms she saw they were covered in burn marks, her wrists bruised and welted. She used her tongue to explore her cut and swollen lip. The rear-view mirror revealed bruising around her eyes.

  “I’m guessing from the look on your face, I look a bit of a state,” she said.

  “I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through. Did Cleo do this to you?” Kate looked horrified.

  “We can talk later, but for now I need your help to identify your friends. I’ll do my best to get the others out of the way.”

  And that’s exactly what she did. Backwards and forwards across the lawn, using the vehicle to scatter the opposition. Harriet tried her best not to leave life-changing injuries but it was hard to be accurate. It wasn’t long before the opposition retreated to the house, possibly to re-group. This gave Kate the opportunity to round up her team and call for help. But it did not prove long enough for them to escape.

  A white Range Rover appeared. Immediately Harriet spotted it, she knew it was Cleo. Her heart sank. Now there would be no avoiding a final encounter. She did not feel panic, just regret and a sudden rush of sadness that she wouldn’t see her children again. There was no time to dwell, for the Range Rover was bearing down on her at speed. Harriet knew she could not out-run it, it was a far more powerful vehicle. Her only option was to use the Defender as a kind of battering ram.

  “Run to the tree line over there and wait,” she shouted to Kate.

  “Harriet, this is suicide, you have no hope of success, you will die!” Kate had tears in her eyes.

  “Then so be it. I can’t stand by and watch. I must do something and whilst I am alive, Cleo is more interested in me than you. So, please go!”

  Before Kate could reply, Harriet had driven off. She spun the Defender to face the fast-moving Range Rover, but at the last minute she turned the wheel sharply to the left, resulting in a noisy impact with Cleo’s front right wing. To her surprise, the Defender appeared to suffer less damage than the Range Rover. Time and again the two women pitted their vehicles against each other, but each impact caused further damage to Harriet’s already weak and injured body.

  Cleo drove like a woman possessed, her anger exhibited in her erratic and dangerous manoeuvres. It was clear she no longer cared about her beautiful car, she was intent on destroying Harriet. Harriet realised she would have to find a way to get an advantage, if she were to stand any chance of surviving. Then she saw her opportunity, she would lure Cleo over the edge of the lawn to the terrace below. Cleo made straight for her.

  Carefully, Harriet controlled the Defender over the top terrace to the lower lawn. As Cleo came racing after her it was blatantly clear she hadn’t seen that the edge of the top lawn fell away. Harriet put her foot down hard on the accelerator to ensure she wasn’t caught and just before reaching the next stone edged terrace slammed the Defender hard to the left, just out of Cleo’s reach. The Range Rover flew past, clipping the stone edge, and was catapulted through the air, landing heavily on its roof in a shallow pond beneath. But in Harriet’s efforts to avoid Cleo she’d inadvertently put the Defender on a collision path with a large grassy bank. There was no avoiding it and, despite desperate attempts to brake, the vehicle hit the bank at speed, throwing Harriet forward. Her head hit the windscreen with such force the glass cracked.

  Harriet struggled to catch her breath. Her chest felt tight, her forehead throbbed. She grappled to undo her seatbelt. There was only one thing on her mind: Cleo. As she got out of the vehicle her legs gave way beneath her. She got back to her feet and started to make for the edge of the terrace. She had to see for herself.

  “Where are you going?” Kate shouted after her.

  “To find Cleo.”

  “Harriet, you’re injured, you need treatment. Leave Cleo. I’ll look.”

  “No, I need to see for myself.”

  Kate sprinted to catch up. Taking Harriet by the hand she helped her over the edge of the terrace and down the steep slope. The upturned Range Rover lay in a crumpled heap. Forcing their way through the undergrowth, they went to the driver’s side. They could see Cleo still in the driving seat, but she was upside down and unconscious. Although she had sustained serious facial injuries, she did appear to be breathing.

  The vehicle was locked. Harriet picked up a large rock and began to strike the side window, over and over, but to no avail.

  “Harriet, the glass is toughened, you’re not going to get in that way,” said Kate.

  “But I need to try.”

  “Why do you? Why? After everything she’s done to you, after all the pain, all the fear? Why do you need to do anything?”

  “Because ‘The greatness of humanity is not in being human, but in being humane’.”

  “Says who?” asked Kate.

  “Mahatma Gandhi.”

  In that moment the helicopter arrived, and Kate began to pace, concerned that Cleo’s followers might re-appear at any moment. She looked across at Harriet, who was slumped against the upturned vehicle, rasping for breath.

  “Time to go, Harriet,” said Kate decisively. With the help of some of the others, they carried her to the helicopter. As it took off, Harriet lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER 29

  When the helicopter was airborne, Kate made a call.

  “Dad.”

  “I’m putting you on speaker phone, Cyrus is with me. Are you okay?”

  “I am, but Harriet’s very poorly.”

  “What’s her condition?” asked Cyrus.

  “She’s seriously injured and has deteriorated since we became airborne. She’s in and out of consciousness. It all went wrong at the house and it was she who rescued us. How she found the courage to face Cleo again I’ll never know, for she suffered terribly at her hand.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Kate’s fa
ther.

  “Oh, Dad, she’s covered in bruises and cuts. I saw a black eye, a cut above her eyebrow, bruising on her jaw, a cut and swollen lip, burn marks on her arms, bruising from ties on her wrists and ankles, and she was limping terribly.”

  “That’s truly awful. Where is Cleo now?” asked Cyrus.

  “Unconscious and upside down in her Range Rover, which is on its roof in a pond. I’ve called the emergency services.”

  “Well done, we need to think about our next move very carefully,” said Kate’s father.

  “I feel awful. I misjudged Cleo and, in my haste to act, I put everyone at risk. If it hadn’t been for Harriet, I don’t know what would have happened. As it is, some of my team have lost teeth, pulled out with pliers on Cleo’s orders.” Kate’s voice cracked.

  “You handled yourself extremely well,” said Kate’s father.

  “Cleo is incredibly dangerous, and I know for a fact you undertook due diligence on this job. It’s unfortunate that some of the intelligence was out of date. You were right to go in when you did. Due to her new collaboration, Cleo has access to greater resources. The electrification of the perimeter fence and pressure pads around the gates are all brand new. They weren’t there last week. So pick yourself up, it’s not always possible to plan for every eventuality. But you got everyone out alive. We will find a way to sort this mess out,” said Cyrus kindly.

  “The priority now is to get Harriet medical assistance,” said Kate’s Dad.

  “I don’t believe we have any choice now but to work more closely with the police. Kate, I want you to contact Derek Wynn and arrange to see him. Don’t worry, I will come with you on the car journey to brief you. From now on you will need to help them to unravel this case and bring those responsible to justice. Derek Wynn is a good man, a man you can trust. It may not be comfortable for you at times, but it will be alright, I promise,” said Cyrus.