He made his way over to the door they had appeared from and looked in. Two more men sat at a table, playing cards. It didn’t look like anyone else was inside and there was no sign of the girl. He stepped through the door and opened fire. The two card players couldn’t react quickly enough. The first went down with a bullet smashing into his forehead. The second took three shots to his chest, as he made an attempt to grab his own weapon. McBride backed away from the two dead men, into the shadows, and waited for their back up to arrive. None came.
His ears ringing from the sound of gunfire bouncing around the inside of the metal building, McBride looked for the girl. There was no one else here. She must be being held at the farm, ready for the pigs to dispose of her body. He couldn’t let that happen. He grabbed the keys to the second Range Rover, put a fresh mag into the Browning and went outside. The rain was still bouncing off the tarmac as he opened the compound gate and drove off.
McBride arrived at the farm an hour before Edgar’s meeting, parked the Range Rover in a copse of trees and walked the last mile across the sodden fields. He took up a position, under a bush, overlooking the farmyard. An old wooden barn sat on the right hand side with the house on the left. There was no movement in the barn but, judging by the noises coming from it, was where Clayton kept his pigs. The house had two entrances; the main entrance was furthest from him and was where all of the light and movement seemed to be. The rear entrance faced the barn and was completely dark, that’s where he would start. He had seen Clayton arrive but had no way of knowing how many men were already in there. His original plan was to wait for Edgar to arrive and enter the house while Clayton was distracted, but he couldn’t wait. The temperature was dropping; if he stayed in this position any longer his legs would start to go numb. He had to make a move and hope that Edgar arrived in time.
He put on his ski mask and crawled to the edge of the track that ran around the farmhouse. Checking for any movement, he slithered across the six feet of mud to the corner of the building. Crouching in the darkness at the back of the house, he raised himself up until his eye level was just above the bottom edge of the window. The room he was looking into was a large kitchen. The only light was coming from the passageway leading to it from the front. He moved to the window on the other side of the solid wooden door and again looked in. A sliver of light was visible underneath a door in the corner of the room. That could be a possible location of the girl. The noise and headlights of an approaching car made him duck down. He crawled to the edge of the house and, lying prone in the mud, peered around the corner.
The front door to the house opened as Edgar’s car pulled up outside. Clayton was first out followed by two of his men. Edgar got out of his car and McBride heard voices as the men talked outside. This was his chance. He turned the handle of the kitchen door. Someone up there must really like him, the door opened and he slipped inside.
McBride moved over to the door in the corner and looked through the keyhole. There was definitely light behind it but no noise. Looking around the kitchen, he found a knife with a wooden handle and a six inch blade. The quieter he could be the better. Pulling the door open, he made his way down the wooden steps that led to the basement.
With his back to the wall, he negotiated the last few steps. The basement was a big, empty room with a single, bare light bulb in the centre of the ceiling. Directly below the light, facing towards him, was the girl. She looked up and pulled at the ropes which tied her to the chair. Her eyes widened with fear at the sight of an armed man, in a ski mask, caked with mud. McBride dropped the knife and pulled off the mask. “It’s ok Sharon; I’m here with your dad. I’ve come to get you out.” Kneeling in front of the chair, he untied the girl’s hands and feet, “We need to get your dad and get the hell out of here.”
“Who are you?” The girl’s throat was dry and her voice barely audible.
“It doesn’t matter, your dad can explain later. Now, let’s go.”
As McBride turned to lead the way out of the basement, the force of the blow, to the side of his head, knocked him to the floor. Clayton’s goon was on top of him before he had time to recover. McBride deflected some of the punches that were crashing into his face but too many were getting through. His ears were ringing, he could taste blood and his vision was blurred. He tried to jam his thumbs into the goon’s eye sockets, but he could feel himself blacking out, he was finished.
The voice in McBride’s head asked him if he was ok. The punches had stopped but there was still a man on his chest. The weight felt different, limp, a dead weight. He opened his bloodied eyes and blinked the fog away. The buzzing in his head subsided and, again, he heard the voice.
“Are you…ok?”
It was the voice of a young girl. He lifted his head, Sharon Edgar knelt beside him. His attacker was now lying lifeless on top of him with the carving knife, from the kitchen, buried in the back of his neck. McBride rolled the man off him and got to his feet. His head spun and he had to steady himself against the wall, “I’m fine, thanks to you.”
Sharon Edgar was shaking. She wiped her blood stained hands on her jeans, “I didn’t know what to do. The knife was in my hand…I had to stop him.”
“You saved my life.” McBride removed the Browning from his jacket pocket, “Now we have to go.”
He grabbed the girls hand and led her back up the steps to the kitchen.
They could hear raised voices coming from the room at the front of the house. “Go an’ see where the idiot is.” Clayton barked an order as one of his men hurried along the corridor towards the kitchen. McBride turned the corner and fired four times. The sound of footsteps was replaced by the thud of a crumpling body and the metallic clink of spent cartridges hitting the stone flagged floor.
McBride walked up the corridor, 9mm in both hands, “Clayton.” He turned into the other room, “Give it up. You’ve nowhere to go.”
“Eddie McBride? You look like shit.” Clayton stood in the middle of the room. He held Edgar around the neck, in front of him, with one arm while his other hand pressed the muzzle of his Glock 17 into Edgar’s right temple. “Put the gun down and back off or he dies.”
“Go ahead, Ricky. He’s nothin’ to me.”
“You know what I’ll do to you when I get out of here.”
“Yeah…you mean if you get out of here.”
“I could make you a rich man, Eddie. Just walk away.”
“No thanks, Ricky. I think you’ve caused me enough shit. It’s time the world got along without you.”
“It’s a bit late for you to develop principles, isn’t it? What happened to the alcoholic, chain smoking, ex bent copper we all know and love?”
“I was a good copper ‘til you fucked it all up. Payback’s been a long time comin’.”
Clayton edged towards the front door, “I’m leavin’ now Eddie, don’t come after me or the girl won’t see her dad, alive, again.”
“Eddie, just get Sharon out of here. That’s all that matters.”
Clayton pressed the Glock, harder, into Edgar’s head, “Shut it, and open the door.”
Edgar reached behind him and turned the handle. Clayton kicked the door fully open and backed out towards his car.
“DAD…NO,” Sharon Edgar ran at the two men. Clayton pulled his weapon away from Edgar’s temple and pointed it at the girl. Alan Edgar braced his foot against the door frame and pushed as hard as he could. As the Glock fired, both men fell backwards onto the gravel driveway. The 9mm round buried itself into the wall above the door. Edgar rolled away, Clayton tried to sit up and aim at him but McBride was already squeezing the trigger of his Hi-Power. The remaining rounds in the Browning’s magazine slammed into the gangster’s chest. Gasping for air as he coughed up blood from his shredded lungs, Clayton tried to say something. McBride bent down and picked up the Glock. He had planned what he would say when he finally confronted the man who ruined his life, but in the end it didn’t matter. He aimed at Clayton’s head and pulled the trigger.