The old man, cane in hand, moved over to the group of young women. When he reached them, he stopped and his underlings straightened the women up, moved them into a neat line. Paraded them for the boss. He gave the slightest flick with the cane and one of his men stepped forward and grabbed the chosen woman, twisting her wrist around and pulling on her hair. The woman cried out but no one took any notice, not even the other women, who looked on bewildered.
One of the men helped the Pakhan back into his car. Another shoved the woman in the other side. The men ushered the remaining women into the final waiting van, then lay down their weapons before the warehouse doors were again opened. The van departed and the men stood waiting once more.
If he was going to act, he should do it now, Ryker convinced himself. He stepped back from the hole in the wall and thought through a plan. If he could lure the men outside, into the darkness, he might have a chance.
But then the boss would simply get away. His men would drive him to safety at the first sign of trouble. If Ryker was going to make a move, the boss had to be the first target. He was the one pulling the strings. The one who’d likely ordered Sergei to kill Miguel Ramos. The one who’d had Kim Walker killed. The one who’d been trying to kill Ryker!
Ryker was snapped from his deliberation when above the noise of the driving rain, he heard a faint crunching behind him. Like someone’s foot scraping a small stone across the ground.
Ryker spun round and stared into the darkness, his gun pointed out.
Nothing. He could see nothing. Not even the droplets of rain that he knew were cascading down his face right in front of his eyes. It was too dark.
But there was no mistaking the next noise he heard, a second later. A voice.
More than that, it was a voice he recognised.
‘Carl,’ she said.
The Red Cobra.
CHAPTER 56
Ryker said nothing. He held up the gun, pointed it out, and twisted himself this way and that as he did his best to scan the blackness ahead.
‘Carl, it’s me,’ she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper, now coming from Ryker’s side. ‘Over here.’
Ryker stepped back until he felt himself brush against the warehouse metal. It gave him some comfort that wherever the Red Cobra was, she wasn’t behind him.
‘I won’t hurt you,’ she said, her voice coming from a different direction again. Ryker spun to the left. Still couldn’t see a thing.
‘Put down the gun,’ she said.
Again the voice had moved. Then Ryker saw her. At least he thought he did. A dark shadow shooting between two containers in front of him. His finger was on the trigger. It was a job to resist the urge to shoot.
‘You know what they are now,’ she said. ‘You’ve seen what they are. Help me to kill them.’
‘Why?’ Ryker said, speaking as quietly as he could.
The next second, he felt a rush of air right by him. Saw her. She was sweeping around his side, going for his gun. She was inches away. He ducked, swivelled, and tried to catch her.
She was gone again.
‘Carl. I’m not your enemy.’
‘Carl’s dead.’
‘No. He’s not,’ she said, the direction of her voice again taking Ryker by surprise. ‘But those men are.’
‘Who are they? The guy with the stick?’
‘The Pakhan? Giorgi? You know what he is, you’ve seen. It’s still early. That was one lorry. There’ll be five more before the night is through.’
‘I’m not going to let that happen,’ Ryker said.
‘No. Me neither.’
Another flash of movement caught Ryker’s eye, off to his right this time. He spun and pointed his gun but saw nothing more of her.
Then all was calm. Still. Quiet. Except for the rain that was still thumping down and the slow thudding of Ryker’s heart.
He took several deep breaths.
‘Anna?’
Nothing. She was gone.
Or, at least she was no longer by Ryker’s side. The harrowing scream of a man moments later, followed by the sound of rapid gunfire, told Ryker exactly where she was.
He spun back round to the warehouse and heard a chorus of shouts from inside. Footsteps moving quickly. The rattling of weapons as the men re-armed.
A car engine starting.
Ryker pushed his eyeball up to the hole in the wall. He spotted a man lying on the floor inside by the open main doors, a large pool of red beneath him. A second man stumbled from the rain back toward the inner sanctum, his hands covered in blood. He collapsed.
Ryker looked over the remaining men. No sign of Sergei. The lights of Giorgi’s car flashed on. Ryker couldn’t let them get away. He shot into action, racing along the side of the warehouse, his gun at the ready.
He heard more gunshots from inside, more pained cries. The sound of another engine starting. Ryker reached the front of the warehouse and spotted Giorgi’s car already out of the warehouse. Its brake lights blinked as it came to a stop at the security barrier that was slowly lifting up.
Ryker opened fire. Aiming for the car’s back tyres. He hit both. He turned when he saw another vehicle. The SUV. Ryker fired a single shot at the windscreen, aiming for the driver through the tinted glass. But the bullet bounced away, not even a scratch.
Ryker dove to the ground as the SUV swept passed him. He looked up to see Giorgi’s car speeding off the warehouse grounds then accelerating hard when it hit the road outside. The SUV followed on behind. Ryker cursed. Armoured glass. Run flat tyres. Nothing he could do.
He quickly got to his feet and looked around. He could see four men inside the warehouse. Two with handguns, two with rifles. They were cautiously moving toward the exit doors. None had yet spotted Ryker. He could only assume his position had been masked by the darkness, and his gunfire by the rain, the revved engines of the escaping vehicles, and the haphazard firing of the men’s own weapons as they desperately tried to shoot at the Red Cobra.
Wherever she now was.
One vehicle remained inside the warehouse. As Ryker set eyes on it, the headlights came on and it shot forward. Ryker could clearly see the face of the driver as it sped toward him. The passenger too. Neither was Sergei. It didn’t matter. Ryker had seen enough. Every man left in that place was a target now.
As the van approached, Ryker lifted the Colt and fired two shots. This windscreen wasn’t armoured. The bullets blasted through the glass and the cabin filled with blood spatters as the van careened passed Ryker. It swerved violently to the right, nothing more than an involuntary movement from the driver, who Ryker was certain was already dead. If, by chance, he wasn’t, the violent crash that ended the van’s escape would have finished him off for sure. Ryker watched as the van ploughed head-on into a metal shipping container. The vehicle’s front end crushed on impact and sent the heap of metal springing up into the air before it smashed back down.
More gunshots rang out. Bullets whizzed by Ryker’s ear. He darted back to the outer wall of the warehouse for cover.
‘Nice shooting, Carl,’ came the Red Cobra’s whispered voice.
Ryker spun round. She was already gone.