Chapter 61
Chapter Sixty-One
P anic engulfed me as the taxi continued farther from the intended destination. I had mentally prepared for this kind of situation, but now that it was actually happening, all my preparation was out the window. “Stop the car!” I yelled.
The driver ignored me. I jostled the door lock, but it was stuck fast. The child safety lock was engaged. I checked my phone, but it mysteriously had no signal. Something must have been blocking it. I sent an emergency SMS anyway, hoping it would still transmit.
Hannah shouted and pounded on the back window of the car, but the window was foggy, and there were no cars close enough for anyone to see.
The driver’s hunched shoulders tightened further as he turned down a narrow alley leading towards a dilapidated warehouse surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. My pulse crashed loud in my ears. I clutched Hannah’s arm as we slowed towards the ragged chain-link gate barring our way. A suited man bearing a neck tattoo stepped into position to open the gate. Hannah hammered on the car window to get his attention, but his deadened eyes skated over us, unmoved.
We bumped across a forecourt overgrown with weeds poking through cracks in the concrete, then into the warehouse’s gaping entrance. The car slowed to a stop. The man with the neck tattoo, and a shorter, stockier man, approached either side of the vehicle. The driver rolled his window down slightly, and the neck-tattoo man slipped a thick envelope through the gap. As the driver counted the cash in the envelope with grubby fingers, the ominous men yanked open both rear doors in jarring unison.
“Get out,” the brute at my side barked, fetid breath billowing as he dragged me from the taxi with enough force to nearly rip my arm from its socket. Hannah yelped as the other man wrestled her out with equal violence. They forced us to our knees on the freezing, wet concrete.
Hannah locked eyes with me, communicating wordless reassurance as the men bound our hands behind us with zip ties. I didn’t know whether she had a plan to get us out of this, or if she thought we’d get rescued soon. I was doubtful on both counts.
The men frisked our pockets and bags for phones and cash and confiscated them, so even if we could somehow escape, we’d have no resources to depend on. The driver drove the car away, and with a metallic rumble, the warehouse roller door descended behind us, encaging us in musty darkness.
I sucked in a deep breath, willing my frantic mind to think. I had to stay calm. If the men planned to use me as leverage in a bargaining situation, then my life wasn’t in immediate danger since I’d be no use to them dead. If I could keep my wits about me, maybe I could get information. Anything that could help bring Daniel Ling and his people down.
“What do you want from us?” I managed.
The stocky one shrugged. “Just following orders.”
“Whose orders?” I pressed.
He scoffed. “Need-to-know basis, love.”
His lanky partner with the tattoo curling up his neck studied me closely. “Which one of you is Amelia Cross?”
Before I could respond, Hannah piped up. “I am.”
I blinked in surprise. The neck-tattooed man narrowed his eyes, scrutinising Hannah’s features. “Funny,” he said. “Our photograph looks more like this one.” He grabbed my jaw, his yellow teeth bared inches from my face. “Did you really think we’d fall for that?”
He yanked me to my feet and dragged me towards a chair set behind a tripod and video camera. My knees quaked, but I locked them rigidly. I had to cooperate, buy time, and if worse came to worst, I just hoped Hannah could get out of her zip ties.
One man guarded Hannah, while the other one tied me to the chair. I took stock of my surroundings as the rope tightened around me, seeking anything to help me formulate an escape. The warehouse was large and empty, with a concrete floor of chipped grey squares and rusty pipes snaking along the walls. Above, skeletal trusses weaved across the ceiling and broken skylights let the cold seep in. A few grimy bulbs hung from exposed wires, providing a hazy light source. A double door at the back of the warehouse was barred, chained, and padlocked. The only other way out was the roller door we came in through. There had to be a switch for it somewhere, but we wouldn’t be able to activate it with our hands bound behind our backs.
I turned my focus to the camera in front of me. “Are you going to video me?” I asked my captor.
Neck Tattoo leaned down, his hot, sour breath on my face. “Obviously.”
“So, how does this work? Do I have to say anything? Do I get a script or something?”
“Bit of pleading for your life will do the trick.”
“You want to show someone my life’s in danger… to force them to comply with your boss’s demands?”
“Clever girl.”
“So, do you get paid well for doing stuff like this?”
“Not well enough. Anyways, enough chitchat. I’ll have to gag you if you keep running your mouth.”
“Sorry. I’m just interested, that’s all. It’s not every day you get to pick the brains of paid criminals.”
He gave an amused grunt in response as he pointed the lens at me.
The man guarding Hannah spoke up. “Hey, Gaz. D’you know what we’re s’posed to do with this one? Didn’t realise there’d be two of ‘em.”
“We’ll have to ask the boss.”
“Reckon boss man wouldn’t mind if we had a lil fun?”
A cold weight sank through me. They couldn’t hurt me, but they had no reason not to harm Hannah. I jerked against the restraints.
The neck-tattoo man, Gaz, shot his partner a warning look. “No funny stuff till he gets what he wants.”
I exhaled. She was safe. For now.
Gaz fiddled with the camera settings, brows pinching together.
“Need some help?” I asked.
“Not a chance.” Gaz called for his partner. “Oi, Jono, know how to work this thing? You’re the tech wiz.”
Hannah’s guard left his post to assist Gaz.
My hands strained against the unforgiving plastic biting into my wrists while every second dragged like wading through quicksand. Backup had to be coming… right?
Between the two goons, they figured out what was wrong with the camera settings, and I saw a red light switch on. It was recording. My nerves hitched. Just what exactly were they planning to shoot?
“Right then, girlie. Time for your star turn,” Gaz said.
“W-what should I do?”
“Getting scared now, eh?” His grin made my stomach turn. “Good. We’re just getting started.”