‘What are you going to do,’ Victor asked him as he neared, ‘shoot me here with thirty people watching?’
The man’s eyes were narrow behind his glasses. He didn’t respond but the hand moved a little away from the gun.
Victor stopped three feet away. ‘Shall we take this elsewhere?’
Both shorter guys immediately glanced at the tall man but he didn’t look back, didn’t see them. He stared straight into Victor’s eyes, unblinking. His angular face showed nothing, but Victor could feel his thought process, weighing up the many pros of taking Victor somewhere a little more private as opposed to the many cons of shooting him in front of a train full of witnesses.
‘No reason why we can’t be civilised about this,’ Victor added.
‘Yes,’ the tall man said with a little smile, ‘let us be civilised.’
CHAPTER 32
There were no other travellers on the platform, but the bald guy in a train company uniform was staring in Victor’s direction. The tall man backed away a step, his gaze never leaving Victor, and motioned with his hand for him to walk forward.
Victor did and the two shorter guys immediately moved to his flanks. They were both muscular, serious expressions, confident enough in Victor’s passivity not to grab hold of him or to keep hands close to weapons. The bald guy continued to stare.
Victor remained stationary while the shorter guy with the patchy beard patted him down on his thighs and hips, and around his waist and under his arms. It was done quickly to avoid attracting attention. Which was smart. But the frisk didn’t go anywhere near Victor’s left wrist. Which wasn’t smart.
The searcher found the SIG in the back of Victor’s waistband and slipped it into one of his own pockets. ‘He’s good now,’ the guy said.
The tall man motioned with his head.
With the guy wearing glasses in front and the other two men behind him, Victor was led along the platform, but away from the concourse, towards the bald guy in the uniform, who opened a worn-looking metal door. He then hurried away, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Victor.
The tall guy nudged Victor in the back. ‘Eyes forward, my friend.’
He followed the first man into the corridor beyond the metal door. It was dark and cool with bare brick walls, dimly lit. The door closed behind Victor and he heard the muted sound of the train to Hrodna pulling away from the platform. He hoped Walt Fisher found someone else to talk to.
They took a left turn and he was led down a series of long featureless corridors until the only sounds were those of their shoes on the floor. Victor kept his head fixed forward, but his eyes moved continuously, taking in everything about the location, memorising the route and looking for advantages. All the corridors were the same: bare brick, plain doors, sprinkler nozzles in the ceiling. Nothing to tip the odds in his favour.
They turned another corner and the lead guy opened a door. He gestured for Victor to enter the dark room beyond. He walked in first and the light was switched on to reveal a small room, ten feet square. Cardboard boxes were stacked against one wall and a simple table with plastic chairs against the other. A mop and metal bucket stood in a corner. The air smelled stale and dusty.
‘Sit,’ the tall man said.
Victor turned around. ‘I prefer to stand.’
The tall man took a step closer. ‘It was an order, not an offer.’
‘All the same,’ Victor said. ‘I think I’ll stand.’
The tall man’s eyes narrowed a fraction. ‘Sit. Down.’
Victor remained standing.
The tall man made a gesture and the patchy-beard guy rushed forward. He had short, blond hair and dark circles beneath his eyes. He was maybe five inches shorter than Victor, but far more heavily built, jacket straining against the strength in his shoulders and arms. In return, Victor knew the guy saw only weakness. Which was how he always preferred it. He offered no resistance as he was flung backwards against the wall. He grunted, but didn’t need to.
Maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, Victor straightened down his jacket and took a step towards his assailant. It was a long step, bringing him well inside the blond guy’s personal space. An unmistakable challenge that was greeted with a smile.
The punch itself was fast but clumsy — they were too close together, no room for the man to get all his power into it, his posture awkward, lacking in balance. Victor tensed his abdominals but didn’t try to stop it. The punch hit square in the gut. He dropped to one knee, coughing.
All three of his captors laughed and Victor continued to cough and splutter far longer than he needed to. The guy who’d punched him stepped back to where the other two stood closer to the door.
‘Perhaps you are ready to sit down now,’ the tall man said.
Victor slowly stood and pulled out one of the plastic chairs. He sat down in his own time.
‘What happens next?’ he asked, a pained and broken edge to his voice.
They gave no response. The tall man took a cell phone from his hip pocket and hit a speed-dial number. He held it to his ear while it rang.
‘We have him,’ was all he said when it connected.
There was a pause, the person on the other end talking.
‘Yes, at the station,’ the tall man answered. ‘No, he is still alive. Do not be concerned, we have him out of the way. Your source can show you where.’ Another pause. The tall man stared at Victor, who sat sheepishly. ‘No, we can take care of it. He has been no trouble at all.’
So far, Victor silently added.
He noticed the two shorter men weren’t watching him particularly intently. All their attention was on their boss and the phone call. They weren’t worried about Victor — he’d already shown them he could be easily subdued. Good. But all three were clustered together by the door on the far side of the room. Not so good.
The tall man mumbled something and slipped the phone away.
‘Not long, my friend,’ he said to Victor, ‘and then this is all over.’
‘Suits me,’ Victor said back. ‘I hate waiting.’
The tall man smiled and took a step towards the table. Victor could smell cigarette smoke on the man’s clothes.
‘I hope you do not mind me saying, but you are being surprisingly calm about this.’
‘I’m always calm,’ Victor admitted.
The man nodded thoughtfully. ‘I suppose men of our profession must learn to be in control of our nerves.’ He sat down opposite. ‘Did you ever believe that this would be how it all ended?’
‘Can’t say I did.’
The tall man stroked his chin for a moment. ‘How long you been in this business?’
Victor acted as if he had to think. ‘A long time,’ he said eventually.
The tall man nodded. ‘That is what I deduced. Myself, I am relatively inexperienced. But I am a fast learner.’ He smiled, revealing sharp, irregular teeth. ‘Before, I was a police officer. Not as generous a wage, but it taught me a lot about how not to get caught doing this more profitable work.’
‘Prefer this?’
‘Absolutely, my friend. Not only is it far better paid…’ He flashed another smile. ‘It is a lot more satisfying.’
‘A man should take pleasure from his work.’
‘Indeed.’ He shuffled his seat forward. ‘Though no means of employment is without negatives, of course.’
‘Very true.’
‘Since you are more experienced than I, have you any advice to share with me?’
‘Don’t get killed.’
He smirked. ‘You know, my friend, you really should have listened to your own advice.’
Victor stared at him. ‘I’m not dead yet.’
‘Yet,’ the tall man echoed. He stroked his chin again. ‘I liked what you said before, about being civilised. I think I will use that myself sometime. You do not mind if I steal your line, do you?’
‘Not if I can get a cigarette while we wait.’
The tall man reached into his pocket. ‘Always happy to grant a dying man his last request.’ He smiled at Victor, man to man. ‘My wife keeps telling me to quit. Yap, yap, yap in my ear all day long.’