Chapter 88
Beth was crying with exhaustion and the children were weeping as their little hands clawed desperately at the earth. All three of them were digging the hole Beth had started with the broken length of pipe. She felt a growing sense of desperation. Time was not their ally, and she knew escape was their only way of avoiding death. Danny’s fingers were raw, Maria’s bleeding.
“Please stop,” Beth said. “Let me do it.”
“No,” Maria replied tearfully. “We want to help. We have to get out!”
Danny’s face was covered in dirty streaks from where he kept wiping it with his muddy hands. Fresh tears sprang to Beth’s eyes as she looked at her brave children.
“I’m so proud of you both,” she choked out. “Let me check it.”
The hole was now big enough for the children to escape, but at last attempt it had been too small for Beth. She pushed her head into it, scrabbled under the wall, and tried to force her shoulders through. She could see the snow-covered field on the other side of the steel wall and was invigorated by a blast of cold fresh air. She pushed but the earth would not yield. She couldn’t negotiate her way through. It was a matter of centimeters only. She pushed herself back under the wall and inside the barn.
“A little more,” she said, and they resumed digging.
She hacked at the ground with the length of pipe, and the children clawed the loose earth clear. Her spirit was almost broken and she longed for sleep, but she couldn’t afford to indulge her ruined muscles and broken mind. Her children needed her to keep going.
She stopped suddenly and so did Maria and Danny. They heard the sound of a lock being opened.
“Go!” Beth said, grabbing Danny.
“Not without you,” he cried.
“I’m coming,” she told him. “Go.”
She pushed him into the hole and under the wall then grabbed Maria.
“Take him to the woods,” Beth said. “Hide!”
“Mom—” Maria began, but Beth cut her off.
“Go.” She kissed her daughter on the head and pushed her into the hole. Maria wriggled through and Beth tried to follow. She threw herself down as she heard the door open behind her. There was a shout in Russian and she heard footsteps pounding across the concrete floor of the barn.
She pushed against the frozen ground and cried with the pain and effort. She could see the snow-covered field and the forest in the distance, but there was no sign of the children.
Please let them be safe, she thought.
She pushed desperately as the footsteps drew closer, but she was stuck half in and half out of the barn. Then she felt hands on her shoulders and turned to see the children either side of her, Danny to her left and Maria to her right. They grabbed her under her arms.
“Push!” Maria yelled. “Come on, Mom. Push!”
Behind her the heavy footsteps were close. She knew she had just seconds. Beth pushed with every remaining ounce of strength. There was a gunshot. Then another. She felt the wall above her shake under the impact of the bullets. Fear and anger surged, but most of all she was propelled by the desire to be with her children.
She strained every fiber and felt the cold earth shift. She elbowed aside a giant clod of soil and wriggled further through the hole. Steely fingers grabbed her ankle, but she kicked out and pulled her leg through. Someone tried to shoot through the wall but the bullets stalled against the tempered steel.
She heard shouts in Russian from inside the barn and knew they were coming for her and the children.
“Run!” Beth yelled.
She grabbed the kids and pulled them forward, aiming for the treeline on the other side of the field. The snow was deep and hard going, and she was bloody, bruised and battered, but she was free.
And determined to stay that way.
Chapter 89
Joshua and I were in the Toyota, watching Jessie take position on the brow of the hill. She lay prone in the snow and set up her AR-15 on a bipod, then checked the magazines of ammunition she had in a small bag beside her.
I glanced in the rear-view and saw Justine and Mo-bot heading toward the road. Justine was on the phone, calling the cops as we’d agreed. She looked nervously in my direction.
“She’s set,” Floyd said. I glanced at Jessie and saw her giving a thumbs-up.
I put the car in gear. “Ready?” I asked.
Floyd patted his AR-15 and nodded.
I stepped on the gas and we lurched forward, spitting icy gravel as the wheels fought for traction. We crested the hill and saw most of Andreyev’s men were congregating around the farmhouse. They looked up the moment they heard the engine, and sprang into action when they caught sight of us racing toward them.
My attention was suddenly drawn from the farmhouse by the sight of three figures running away from the far barn. They were heading toward the forest on the other side of the field. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: Beth, Maria and Danny had somehow managed to escape! I pointed them out to Floyd and a smile began to appear on his face before it quickly hardened to a look of grim resolve.
Andreyev and the two guards who had been stationed outside the barn were running along the exterior wall. They would soon have a line of sight on Beth and the children.
The men by the farmhouse opened fire on us. As bullets thudded into the ground all around the SUV, Jessie replied on our behalf and sprayed the group with bullets. The rattle of machine-gunfire sent panic through Andreyev’s men. Two of them went down with bloody wounds and were hauled into the farmhouse by their retreating accomplices.
Andreyev stopped in his tracks when he heard the gunfire and yelled something at the two guards before changing direction and running back toward the courtyard. The two guards continued their pursuit of Beth and the children.
I steered off the track and took us round the house and through the thick snow that covered the bumpy hill. We sprayed ice and slush everywhere and bounced around wildly as the engine roared. Above us, Jessie kept laying down covering fire, pinning Andreyev’s men inside the farmhouse.
We hit level ground and shot past the house, onto the field beside the east barn. One of the guards pursuing Beth turned and opened fire on us. The other shot at her and the kids.
“Stop the car,” Floyd said.
I stepped on the brake and we skidded to a halt. Floyd jumped out and raised his AR-15 to his shoulder.
I heard gunfire and looked to my left to see one of Andreyev’s men shooting at us through the back window of the house.
I pulled my Glock from the holster in the center console, opened the door and returned fire. The man staggered back, wounded, and I turned just in time to see Floyd target the guard who was shooting at us. His pistol could hardly make the distance, but the AR-15 had no such trouble. Floyd squeezed the trigger. The first bullet tore through the man’s throat. The second pierced his skull.
Beth and the children were almost at the trees, the second guard not far behind. As his comrade’s body tumbled into the snow, Floyd quickly shifted his aim to the guard pursuing his family. He squeezed the trigger and hit his target in the center of his back. The man went down instantly.
An engine roared and I looked left to see a black Porsche Cayenne shoot out of another barn. Andreyev was at the wheel. He raced across the courtyard and out into open countryside away from the farmhouse. He was heading for a track that cut through the woods.
“You go. Look after your family,” I told Floyd. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Thank you, Jack. For everything you’ve done.”
He slung his rifle, shut the car door, and set out at a sprint.
I popped the Toyota in gear and went in pursuit of the fleeing Russian.