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I shrug, just as Otto raises his gun at me. “Are you for real?” I ask, standing taller, raising both of my guns too.
He steps a fraction to the side and fires, and I flinch, the whoosh of his silencer short and sharp. I look to my right, seeing a pool of blood growing near my feet. “This does not mean you can date my mother.”
“I don’t want to date her, you moron,” he grunts, pushing past me.
“Oh, right, so what? You want to love her?”
He stops, his whole body twitching. “Doesn’t she deserve that?”
“Yes, she deserves that, but from someone worthy,” I hiss.
“And who would that be?” he asks, facing me. “In your world, Danny, who the fuck do you expect to swoop in and take care of her? A school teacher? An accountant? Need I fucking remind you who you are?”
I snarl, raise my gun...and get tackled from the side by Ringo. I stagger a few paces but remain on my feet. “Calm the fuck down and save it for later.” He gets up in my face, furious. “I wouldn’t mind leaving here intact.”
“Fine.” I push past him, my attention shooting to Goldie when I hear her sharp inhale. She’s opened a door, and whatever is on the other side has stunned her. “What is it?” I rush over, everyone else on my tail, and cautiously peek through the small gap. “The fuck?” I breathe, seeing two rows of beds, perhaps ten in each row, many with women on the dirty, bare mattresses. All with lines into their arms. “Jesus.” I stand, stock-still, and all I see is my wife. My wife as a young girl, and my mum.
I’m consumed, ruled by the anger rising. “Get them out,” I say on impulse, counting the occupied beds. Ten.
“Danny, how?” Goldie asks, sounding so fucking torn and disturbed. It’s a fair question. There are too many. Most completely spaced out, drugged up to their eyeballs. They’ll need carrying, and there’s not enough of us.
“Fuck,” I hiss, moving deeper into the room, feeling everyone at my back, armed, poised, ready to fire, whereas my gun is limp by my side, shock keeping it there.
“We can come back,” she says, an attempt to pacify me.
“We can’t come back.” James steps forward, assessing the lines of beds. “There’s two unconscious men and a dead body out there.”
I look to my left when I hear a murmur and see a young woman writhing on a bed, distressed. I stalk over and remove the line from her arm, bending over her body. Her eyes open and widen, disturbed when she sees me. “No,” she mumbles. “No, please.” Her accent is thick, but I can’t place it.
I hush her, trying to settle her down. “You’re going to be okay.”
“We have to let the police take them in,” Otto says.
“Agreed.” James moves in. “But in not so long, we’re going to be discovered and all these young girls will get caught in the crossfire.”
“So, what?”
“We take them,” I say, starting to work my way through the young women, gently pulling the lines from their arms one by one, being left no choice but to leave each of their punctures exposed and hope they don’t bleed too much. “Call Doc. Have him ready at the house. We’ll deal with the police when I’ve cleared my head.”
“Fucking hell,” Brad whispers, joining me, helping remove the lines. “We’ll have to do two trips. Ten extra bodies, Danny.”
“We’ve got three jet skis. Otto and Goldie can hop on with two of us. Ringo can take the boat. It’ll be a squeeze, but we can do it. We don’t have time to wait.” I look up at James, who nods. He gets it. “Goldie, call Leon and have him close down the boatyard.”
“And Higham?” Ringo asks.
“Tell him we need more time.” I pull up the eyelids of the girl in the final bed on the first row and look into her comatose eyes. Blue eyes that look black from the sheer level of dilation. I see a million flashbacks in the dark, lifeless pits. “At least half an hour.” I need to pull my head out of my arse and get this done before I grab my gun and shoot to kill.
“Done,” Ringo joins us, assessing each girl. “Can any walk?”
“If you’d been pumped full of sedatives for fuck knows how long, would you be able to walk?” I ask, dipping and picking up the girl and getting her onto my shoulder, placing one arm over her thighs and keeping my other free. Armed. “Goldie stays here to keep an eye. One of us stays at the other end when we get there. That leaves four of us to get ten girls out of here. We’ve got some working out to do. Get moving.”
“Fucking hell,” Ringo sighs, claiming a girl, as do the others. Never before have I been so grateful that I work out.
After the first drop, Otto, the oldest and most indignant about it, stays behind to watch the girls while James, Brad, Ringo and I file back like ants, all of us blowing out of our arses already, to collect the remaining girls. I’m not clockwatching, but I know we’re close to the wire.
“Time,” I call back to Ringo as I jog along the ragged cove back to the hangar.
“He’s lost their attention. They’re all filing back in.”
