‘In the stairwell heading down to Basement Three. The lifts aren’t working.’
‘Yeah, the power’s been cut. Get to Grechko as quick as you can.’
‘Tony, it’s pitch black down here. I can’t see a thing.’
‘Quick as you can,’ repeated Shepherd.
‘Tony, if I slip I’ll break my neck.’
‘Just do it, Ivan. Grechko’s in danger. This isn’t an accident.’
‘You think the killer’s down here?’
Shepherd could hear the uncertainty in the man’s voice. ‘Don’t think about that,’ he said. ‘Your job is to protect Grechko. Now go ahead and do that.’
He put the phone in his pocket and headed for the emergency stairs.
Monotok smiled when he heard Koshechkin ask whether the killer was in the basement. Part of him wanted to whisper ‘yes, I’m here’, but he knew that if he did he’d be making it difficult for himself. As it was all he had to do was wait in the dark with the knife and Koshechkin would come to him. It was almost funny watching the man make his way down the stairs, one at a time, feeling ahead with the toe of his shoe and keeping one hand flat against the wall. He’d reach out with the toe of his right foot, then tap it against the concrete step and only then would he place the foot down. Then he’d put his left foot next to his right foot and then start the whole process again. It was taking him a full five seconds for each step. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step. With the hand scraping against the wall each time he moved. Monotok gripped the knife and waited.
Shepherd opened the door to the stairwell and looked inside. The light spilled in and he could see the first half-dozen stairs but everything was dark beyond that. He touched his earpiece. ‘Dmitry, how’s it going?’
‘We’re trying to get our phones out of the lockers.’ Shepherd heard Tarasov curse as he bumped into something. Shepherd realised that the gym would be a nightmare to navigate in the pitch dark.
‘I’m going down to the security centre,’ said Shepherd. ‘Ivan’s heading to Grechko. Konstantin, how are you getting on with torches?’
‘I can’t find any,’ said Serov. ‘I’ve got matches. I’m looking for candles.’
‘Quick as you can,’ said Shepherd. He took his phone out and switched it on. There wasn’t much light but he figured it was better than nothing. He stepped into the stairwell and let the door close behind him. The light from the phone cast a faint glow, barely enough to illuminate the first three stairs.
He moved as quickly as he could down the steps to Basement One. There was a faint diffuse light coming from the keyboard next to the thumb sensor. Clearly it still had power. That made sense because if the power had been cut to the locks there’d be no way of opening them. He pressed his thumb against the sensor, tapped out his four-digit code and pushed open the door.
‘Who is it? Is someone there?’ Shepherd heard a voice, coming over from his left.
‘Who’s that?’ he shouted. ‘This is Tony Ryan.’
‘It’s Yulian, Yulian Chayka.’
One of the drivers, Shepherd realised. He must be standing at the door to the driver’s room. ‘Yulian, do you have a flashlight?’
‘No,’ shouted the driver. ‘What’s happening?’
‘The power’s off. What about the cars? Are their flashlights in the cars?’
‘I don’t think so. What do we do?’
‘Stay where you are,’ said Shepherd. ‘You’ll hurt yourself if you move around in the dark.’ Shepherd moved his phone around but the light was so weak that it barely illuminated the floor. He took a deep breath and went into his memory. He’d walked around the parking area and the security centre many times, so he knew the layout. The fact that it was pitch black shouldn’t make any difference to his mental picture of his surroundings. He headed towards the gym, walking confidently even though he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.
Koshechkin continued to move down the stairs. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step. He reached the turn and shuffled across to the next flight of steps, keeping his left hand against the wall.
Monotok looked up and smiled. Koshechkin’s suit was a greenish black in the night vision goggles, his face a pale, almost fluorescent, green, and there was a flash of bright green at the top of his shoes whenever his white socks were exposed. His tongue was sticking out between his teeth.
There was just eight steps between Koshechkin and the knife in Monotok’s hand. It was a big knife, the stainless steel blade a full eight inches long, one edge wickedly sharp, the other serrated, with a thick groove along the blade so that the blood would flow out and negate any suction effect. Tap, step, step. A tap with the right foot, the right foot on the step, then the left. Tap, step, step. Six steps left. Tap, step, step.
Koshechkin stopped and cocked his head on one side. Monotok froze and held his breath. Koshechkin licked his lips and then moved his head from side to side, listening intently. For a moment Monotok thought that Koshechkin was going to turn and run back up the stairs but eventually the bodyguard recommenced his descent. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step.
Monotok pulled back the knife and there was the faintest rustle from his sleeve. Koshechkin stopped and cocked his head again, deep furrows across his brow, his right foot poised in midair.
Monotok moved quickly, stepping up and thrusting the knife into Koshechkin’s chest, between the fifth and sixth rib, aiming for the heart. He plunged the knife in as far as it would go, then pulled it out and just as quickly stabbed Koshechkin again, slightly to the right of the first wound. Then again. And again. The massive damage to his heart and lungs meant that he bled out in seconds and Monotok moved back down the stairs to give the man room to fall. Koshechkin died without making a sound, a look of confusion on his face.
Monotok turned and went back down the stairs to the door to Basement Three. He took the severed thumb from his pocket, held it against the scanner and then tapped in the four-digit code. The door clicked open and Monotok grinned. It wouldn’t be long now until Grechko was dead.
Shepherd saw the faint outline of the keypad to the gym, almost as if it was floating in midair. It was disorienting but he knew it was just his mind playing tricks as it tried to make sense out of the blackness around him. He focused on walking, a strange experience when he couldn’t see where he was placing his feet. As he got closer the pale glow from his phone illuminated part of the door. He pressed his thumb against the scanner and tapped in his code. The lock clicked and he pushed the door open.
‘Dmitry, over here,’ said Shepherd, waving his mobile around. ‘Can you see the light?’
‘I can see it,’ replied Popov.
‘Head towards me. Where’s Leo?’
There was a loud bang and Tarasov cursed in Russian. ‘I don’t know where the fuck I am,’ he said.
‘Can you see the light from my phone, Leo?’ asked Shepherd, waving his mobile around again.
‘No, I can’t see anything. Wait. Yes. I see it.’ A few seconds later there was a crash and another loud curse. ‘Who the hell leaves weights on the ground?’ shouted Tarasov.
Shepherd continued to wave the phone around and after a minute or so he heard a footfall ahead of him and then Popov appeared in the faint glow. Shepherd put a hand on his chest. ‘Hang on for Leo,’ he said.