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I’m trusting that.
I check my watch again.
Four minutes now.
It makes me pace near the gas inlet, tracking the route through the building from the Mandarin to the underground parking in my head. Should be doable for three of us. The rest of the girls can scatter in the carnage, run, do whatever. I don’t care about them. I don’t even know why I care about Naja as much as I do, but I’ll work that out when we’re clear. Maybe she’s just a token gesture that’s made me consider who I am and what I’ve done. I suppose something’s got to find my morals. She’s managed it somehow.
One minute.
I yank on the gas supply to the ovens, tearing the pipe from the wall. The pungent smell is instant. It floods the room within seconds, making me rush for the jars to light them up. Flames lick out from the lighter, crawling their way up the rags, and I run.
Doesn’t take me much more than a minute to get to the Mandarin suite. I shove my shoulder into the door, barging it open and breaking the lock, and scour the room for her. She’s up in the back, still in the outfit she danced in. They all look at me, shock and surprise on their faces.
I reach my hand out from the doorway. “Naja! Now!”
She clambers from her seat, grabs hold of Miri’s hand, and kicks the shoes from her feet. They both run, and we turn out into the corridor so I can get on with the fucking plan, but the deafening sound of the explosion sends us all back against the wall.
The room shakes. Fuck, the whole damn place shakes as smoke and plasterwork swamps the corridors. I pull her to her feet, and then scoop Miri up from the ground to get us moving again.
All six of the other women pour out into the corridor as I do, all of them screaming and crying and wailing like fucking banshees in their terror. I can’t see a damn thing through the smoke and the heat building around us, let alone think in the panic of the situation I’ve created.
The old place groans and creaks around us as I see shadows of figures start scattering in fear. Naja squeezes my hand, tries to pull me along, but now more of those fucking morals are here kicking my arse and I’m thinking like some hero I definitely am not.
I glance at them all coughing and screaming, then towards the way I’m heading, then push Naja to take the lead. “Straight on,” I shout, pushing Miri after her. Each one of the other women get shoved in the same direction, my hands harsh and quick as I watch the glow of orange get closer to us. They all keep crying and screaming as we go, enough so that I push past them until I’m up with Naja again.
We turn left, then right through the next set of doors, and are immediately hit with flames and rubble in the way. I skirt it, bracing myself off the wall so I can get them over the debris and through the least affected area, until, eventually, the sight of the back entrance comes into view.
“Van. Now!” I shout, pushing each one through the door and into fresh air. Heckle climbs out the driver’s door and opens the side door, a nod at me as I send them all over to him. “Where’s Jamie?” I call. He shakes his head. Naja looks back at me before getting inside the van. Her eyes hold mine as if willing me to get over there with her.
I look between her and the entrance behind me, then peer up at the flames and smoke billowing out the top of the roof. “I can’t leave Jamie behind.” I don’t need to explain myself, but I want Naja to know. I have to get Jamie – dead or alive.
Chapter Fourteen
NAJA
The acrid taste of soot and smoke clog my throat as I cough and splutter, trying to draw fresh air into my lungs. Flecks of debris dust my arms, mingled with cuts and scrapes, but all that shrinks away because we’re safe.
Miri is safe.
And it’s because of Jackson.
He came for us, and not just me and Miri. He helped us all.
The relief is overwhelming, but as I look at the golden flames crawling over the building, I can see the cost to Jackson. He’s standing between the van and the door we came out of. He’s torn, and that tears at a piece of my heart.
He looks at me and then back to the building. “I can’t leave Jamie behind.”
That simple explanation is more than he needs to give. If Miri was in there, I’d never leave. I’ve felt his pain and feel it now, too, as I watch him rush back into the building.
“Jackson!” I call, but he’s swallowed by the smoke.
All through this, there have been small signs pointing me towards this apparent bad man – a gangster of London – against my better judgement. Dealing in trafficked women, holding us hostage, and working with the likes of Elias and the others, killing a man. Nothing he’s done should make me feel the way I do towards him. That first gesture, the glances, the hidden feeling of trust beneath the surface. And finally, this, risking everything for us. To help us. It doesn’t add up, and I’m desperate to ask him why.
“Naja, come on.” Miri pulls me back inside the van.
“Where are you taking us?” I ask the big man in the driving seat.
“Orders are to get you safe.”
