“What is going on?” Court asked.
“Execution, Court,” Sam sighed.
“How can you be so calm?” Court raved.
“Because Mr. Cleave accepts his fate with grace, Callany,” Yiannis told the terrified mechanic. While he spoke, Sam bolted forward, off his knees and into a dive roll toward the wall where Court's light was hanging from the hook. With one movement, he ripped the cord from the fixture and blacked out the room instantly. It happened in less than three seconds, giving Court the opportunity to grab the assassin’s weapon.
Sam heard the struggle of the two men in the dark and followed the sound.
“Court, where are you?” he shouted.
“Hanging from my hand,” Yiannis laughed crudely in the blackness. He had Court in a grip, holding him up by his throat, choking the mechanic to death. The sound of the massive blade skewering Court’s body overpowered his cries of pain. Sam used the position they were in to optimize his attack and swept his leg low to dislodge the Greek’s knee joints with a sickening crack. Not even a scream came from the painful immobilization. Yiannis merely grunted and panted as Court fell into the moist much of the floor.
“Court! Court, can you hear me?” Sam barked, getting no answer.
“I can hear you just fine,” he heard Yiannis growl from another direction, and then the excruciating anguish of Sam’s leg being repeatedly stabbed. Once the assassin found Sam’s leg, he knew where to grab. With his free hand he locked on to Sam’s other leg and pulled him closer with one powerful tug.
“Fuck!” Sam spat furiously, kicking wildly at where he guessed the man’s face would be. He got in a few good shots, but it only seemed to spur Yiannis on. More blows came with horrendous pain as the blade kept splitting flesh, forcing Sam to resort to schoolyard tactics. He gathered a handful of muddy earth, full of concrete chunks from the broken floor, which he shoved hard into Yannis’ face and eyes.
It seemed to repel him somewhat, giving Sam just enough time to find the generator against the wall. Fumbling violently, he managed to find the cap of the tank. He unscrewed it and propped himself up on one leg, tilting the tank over in the darkness. Yiannis was snorting and puffing to get the debris out of his eyes and mouth, betraying his position just enough for Sam to douse him in petrol.
“No! No, Cleave! You will never know where we are keeping the women if you kill me!” Yiannis threatened when he smelled the accelerant.
Quickly, Sam delved into his pocket for his lighter. Without hesitation, he flicked the flame on and aimed. “That is the advantage of two enforcers, you see,” Sam wheezed. “We can get that info from your buddy just before we light him up too.” He sank to his haunches as the fire rushed toward the screaming threat and he used the human torch to light the way to Court’s bleeding body.
“I did it for my wife and the children,” Court mustered the words just barely.
“Take it easy. Save your breath. I am calling the ambulance,” Sam advised, but Court was rapidly bleeding out from the broken vessels and exposed organs.
“Listen,” he persisted with immense effort. “Tell them I was only a thief for one night. Okay? I only did it to give them a better life, and Brian… a scholarship at a dandy school and all.”
“I will tell them, mate,” Sam promised, feeling utterly helpless. “You go on now. I will make sure they know why.”
“Thanks mate,” Court pushed out. A little smirk formed on his face as life gave way to relief. Sam sank his head and rested it on the man’s still chest. There was no heartbeat inside the body, but the warmth attested to the mechanic’s recent departure and Sam found a slightly macabre peace in it.
26
Clarity
Purdue woke up to the smell of black coffee and fritters. He was alone in bed, but his shower was on at full power in the en suite bathroom. It was late in the morning already, but it was weekend and he could not stop smiling. Charles had left the breakfast on Purdue’s bedroom table, along with the newspaper, as usual.
It was a dark morning with heavy rainfalls forecast throughout Edinburgh and surrounding areas, according to the weather girl at Channel 8. Purdue was anxious, though, to hear from Sam regarding Nina’s rapid departure the night before. With the silver-haired beauty in the shower, he would have some privacy while checking up on Nina.
The first notification tone came through. It was from Sam.
“Hey Purdue, just checking in to tell you we have collected Nina’s friend from Glasgow. Listen, tomorrow first thing, call me. We have a problem and we need your help.”
Sam’s words did not rouse any concern in Purdue, but the journalist’s tone was a little off. Sam did not rattle easily, but by the sound of his voice in this message, he had discovered something troublesome.
“Good morning, lover,” Ava sang as she stepped out of the bathroom. She wore only one towel, and it was on her freshly washed hair. As much as he enjoyed the scenery and the reminiscence it brought back to him, he could not help but feel the urge to get in contact with Sam as soon as possible.
“Good morning, princess,” he smiled, watching her crawl onto the bed. How would he excuse himself from this scenario? Naturally he did not want to, but the thought of his friend’s urgent words haunted him. Ava worked her way up his left leg, planting kisses as she went. Purdue put the phone down as the rai started clattering against the windows again, opting for pleasure. After all, Sam was a dangerous, resourceful individual. He could take care of things just fine until Purdue had had his real breakfast.
“Lock the door,” he suggested to Ava.
Purdue’s phone rang, but he ignored it until it stopped. Ava locked the door and returned to his bed, and the slow temptation she had in mind. He closed his eyes and relaxed, savoring her attention. He welcomed Ava’s advances fully, eventually abandoning all intentions to get back to Sam soon.
After four phone calls ignored, Charles answered Purdue’s line when the next one came in. It was Sam, sounding livid.
“I am sorry to take this out on you, Chuck, but we have a fucking serious situation here!” Sam apologized to the butler. “Get him on the phone right now. Nina has been kidnapped!”
“Not to worry, Mr. Cleave. I shall raise Mr. Purdue immediately. Shall I have him call you back or do you wish to stay on the line?” Charles asked with his usual professionalism.
“I will hold on, thanks,” Sam panted on the other side.
Charles sprinted up the stairs, a surprising sight to Lillian, the housekeeper. She stared at him from the ground floor with wide eyes and a puzzled cock of her head. He looked back at her, seeming distraught. “Dr. Gould has been kidnapped.”
Lillian gasped. Footsteps patted toward the other side of the door. Ava yelped in disappointment as Purdue flew towards the door and jarred it open. “What did you say?” he exclaimed. He could see that his butler’s usual poker face had turned red and strained. Charles said nothing. He just passed Purdue the portable phone. “Mr. Cleave for you sir,” he announced in a timid voice. “It is urgent.”
“Where the fuck have you been all morning?” Sam shouted at Purdue when he answered the phone.
“Sam, calm down,” he tried, but Sam’s voice was shaking when he interrupted Purdue’s attempt. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. For Christ’s sake, she was taken, along with the boy. They grabbed them both right out of my fucking apartment! I need your help now, or else Nina is dead. Do you understand?”
Purdue’s chest ached from shock and panic. There was no time to waste. His eyes blinked profusely as he rummaged for a pen and paper. “Sam, where are you? I am on my way.”