‘I had a feeling we’d meet again,’ Werner said to Sabrina. ‘Actually you’ve timed your arrival to perfection. I was about to leave. My seaplane’s in the hangar, refuelled and ready for takeoff.’
‘What about the Napoli?’ she asked.
‘It’s got to make up for lost time so it won’t be docking in Dubrovnik after all. As for me, I’m going home. Hendrique’s now officially in charge.’
‘So the detonator goes to Hendrique?’
‘Come now, Mr Graham, I’d hardly have expected such an illogical question to come from someone as experienced as you.’ Werner gave Hendrique a contemptuous look. ‘He’s a mercenary, an arms and drug smuggler, he’s ruled by money. The Socialist cause has never meant anything to him. If he had the detonator he’d probably hold it to ransom.’
‘That’s enough,’ Hendrique snapped angrily.
‘Well, wouldn’t you?’ Werner challenged, then turned back to Graham. ‘The detonator stays with me. It’s quite simple really. If you hadn’t come along when you did I’d have flown out and nobody would have been any the wiser. My defection won’t be announced until the Napoli’s cargo has reached its destination safely, so your superiors will naturally presume I’m still within detonating distance and give the freighter a wide berth. A point borne out by your presence here now. If you hadn’t taken my threat seriously you’d have already boarded the Napoli.’ He picked up a travelling bag from beside the table. ‘I wanted you alive on the train so you could pass on my instructions to your superiors. Now, I’m afraid, I want you dead. I’ll leave that in Hendrique’s capable hands.’
‘Radio through to the other guards, I’ll meet them round the front,’ Hendrique said to Kyle.
Hendrique strode briskly through the warehouse and out on to the wharf. The other two guards were already there, both kneeling down beside the third one. He hauled the dazed guard to his feet and shoved him up against the Land Rover. ‘You’ve humiliated me in front of Werner.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ the guard mumbled, massaging his neck.
He withdrew his Desert Eagle and shot the guard at point-blank range, then swung round to face the other two guards. ‘I won’t tolerate failure. I want you both to stay here and for God’s sake keep your eyes open.’
He removed the attaché case from the Land Rover and disappeared back into the warehouse.
‘What was that shooting?’ Werner demanded when Hendrique entered the office.
‘A disciplinary matter,’ Hendrique replied, then removed the board from the attaché case.
Kyle cleared the cards and the coffee mugs from the table while Hendrique removed one of the overhead strip lights and attached the crocodile clips to the power source.
‘What are you going to do, play them off against each other?’ Kyle asked excitedly.
‘That’s not a bad idea now you come to mention it, but what I had in mind was letting Graham pit his skills against Milchan.’ Hendrique looked at Milchan.
‘It’s up to you.’
Milchan tapped his chest then drew his finger across his throat.
‘In case you didn’t understand that, Graham, you and Milchan will be playing to the death.’
‘And if I refuse?’ Graham said defiantly.
‘Then I’ll be forced to shoot your beautiful assistant,’ Kyle said.
‘Partner,’ Sabrina corrected automatically.
‘Tie her to the chair,’ Hendrique said to Milchan. ‘She can have a ringside seat.’
‘I’m sorry it had to end like this, Sabrina,’ Werner said softly, then turned to leave, his footsteps echoing into the distance.
‘I reckon he fancied you, darling. Not that I blame him,’ Kyle said with a twisted smile and reached out to touch her face.
She bit his hand.
‘Bitch,’ he snarled, raising the Spectre to strike her.
Graham shoved past Hendrique and punched Kyle to the ground.
Hendrique pressed the shotgun into Graham’s neck. ‘Tie his feet.’
Milchan grabbed Graham’s arm and led him to the nearest chair.
‘You’ll pay for that,’ Kyle snapped, aiming the Spectre at Graham.
Hendrique pushed the Spectre barrel towards the ground. ‘You’re beginning to get on my nerves, Eddie. Go and do something constructive, like starting up the helicopter.’
‘But I want to watch,’ Kyle whined, pointing to the board on the table.
‘We’re not staying, we’ve got work to do. Now get the helicopter started.’
Kyle reluctantly handed the Spectre to Hendrique and left the office.
Hendrique crossed to the board and placed both hands on the pads, raising one and then the other. The shock on both occasions passed harmlessly through the bracelets. He took a key from the pouch inside the attaché case and turned it through one revolution in a lock on the side of the board. A red light came on beside the lock.
‘I’ve dispensed with the first two games. Put on the bracelets.’
Both men snapped the bracelets around their wrists, locked them, then put the keys in the centre of the board.
‘I’ve activated the death shock. Even your wetsuit won’t save you, Graham.’
‘You’re assuming I’ll pull off first,’ Graham said.
‘I know you’ll pull off first. Milchan only ever plays when the death shock’s in operation. He’s still alive.’ Hendrique touched the shotgun against Sabrina’s neck. ‘If you don’t push down simultaneously with Milchan I’ll kill her.’
Graham glanced at her. She smiled weakly.
‘Your call, Graham,’ Hendrique said, tightening his grip on the shotgun.
Milchan rested his hand lightly on the pad, his eyes never leaving Graham’s face. Graham exhaled deeply then placed his palm on the other pad.
‘Now,’ Graham commanded.
They both pressed their hands down on to the pads.
‘Sorry I can’t stay to watch you die, Graham, but we’re already well behind schedule.’ With that Hendrique walked out into the warehouse.
Sabrina tried to loosen her tethered hands as soon as he was out of sight but Milchan had knotted the cloth over her wrists, out of reach of her fingers. She then used her momentum to shift the chair round until she was sitting with her back to the shattered windowpane.
‘Mike–?’
‘Don’t worry about me, I’m okay,’ he replied without taking his eyes off Milchan’s face.
She glanced over her shoulder. The chair was a foot away from the window. She would have to tilt the chair back against the transom but knew in doing so she could easily impale her hands or wrists on the jagged glass protruding from it. It was a risk she had to take. She rocked the chair by propelling her body backwards and forwards, building up enough of a rhythm to topple it back against the transom. Her first thought was one of relief at not having cut herself, but the moment she moved her hand she nicked her thumb and felt blood trickle down across her palm. By carefully tapping with her forefinger she discovered she had cut her thumb on a splinter of glass about five inches long. She pressed the cloth against the splinter’s serrated edge and moved her wrists up and down, using the glass as a saw. Within seconds it had shredded and she was able to reach down and untie her feet.
‘What must I do, Mike? Disconnect the clips?’
The indicator read six.
‘Unlock my bracelet,’ he replied tersely.
‘Why not disconnect it at the mains?’
‘Unlock my bracelet, Sabrina!’
She picked up the two keys, then another thought came to mind. ‘What if it’s booby-trapped?’
‘It’s not, trust me,’ he replied, his face showing the first signs of pain.
She unlocked the bracelet. With his free hand he reached across and snapped the bracelet around Milchan’s wrist inches below the other one.