The Alex King Series by A BATEMAN (free ebook reader for ipad TXT) 📕

Caucasus Mountains,” Michael whispered. “Very big mountains. Only a few roads through and very dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“Bad roads, bandits, bears, wolves,” he paused. “You name it.”

Caroline knew that the mountains lay to the north. Which meant the Black Sea was to the east. She visualised the location on a map. She had no idea of distances or scale, but she felt relieved to be able to put a marker on her location. It gave her a new-found confidence, put some reality into her world of disbelief, fear and uncertainty. Just the knowledge that she knew her location gave her a flush of confidence.

She followed Michael through the courtyard but hesitated as he bypassed the barn and made his way between two derelict-looking buildings. “Wait!” she whispered, but it wasn’t loud enough to grab his attention. “Michael, wait!” she called, as quietly as she could, but as loud as she dared.

Michael stopped in his tracks, turned back and said, “What?”

“The women,” Caroline said quietly. “What about all of the women?”

“We have to go!” he snapped.

“But we can’t,” she protested. “I can’t…”

“There is no room!” He shook his head. “I have a small car… there are thirty women here… we can’t!”

“No, he can’t!” Jurgen said, a matter of feet away from Caroline. He flicked on a torch, catching their faces in surprise. “Predatel’skiy ublyudok!” he shouted, then as if for Caroline’s benefit repeated it in English, “Treacherous bastard!” His voice filled the courtyard as he stepped forward, his massive frame bearing down on them.

Caroline lashed out with the table leg. She didn’t have time to check if the bolt was going to hit first, but it didn’t matter anyway because The Beast batted it away with his forearm, almost taking Caroline with it. She was quick to react, using her training, she went with the force, used it, spun around completely and kept the table leg moving around three-hundred and sixty degrees, striking him on the right hip. He let out a grunt, swung a punch which scythed through the air narrowly missing Caroline’s jaw. She had been lucky. The blow could have killed her. She pulled the table leg clear, pushed it head on into the man’s groin. He wheezed and fell backwards, sprawling into the wall of the building. She was readying another swing, when Michael caught hold of her and dragged her backwards.

“Come on!” he shouted.

Caroline had lost her momentum for attack, and saw The Beast already getting to his feet. He was reaching for his pocket and she decided not to be there when he got what he was after. She turned and ran, following Michael between the two buildings. Behind them, The Beast was screaming in Russian. Already, the courtyard was illuminated by the lights flicking on within the farmhouse. As Caroline caught up with Michael, their shadows were cast by a powerful outside light set high up on the lee of the farmhouse.

Michael was a fast runner and although Caroline ran regularly to maintain fitness, she could not match his pace. She dared a backwards glance and was horrified to see that The Beast, despite his bulk, had gained ground on her. She was sprinting hard, as best she could in the boots, but the heel put her at a disadvantage. She tried to increase her pace, but she realised that both fear and adrenalin had dealt her all the speed she was ever going to get. Michael dodged right, beside some bins and a pile of scrap metal. Caroline followed, the sharp turn in direction catching The Beast off guard. He missed the turning, cursed and doubled back. Ahead of them, Caroline saw the metal fence. She already knew she would not get clear before The Beast caught her. The track was narrow, and Michael would slow up to make the initial leap. He would reach half-way and climb, but Caroline did not have enough distance between herself and The Beast to make it. She had another twenty-metres to go, saw her opportunity and went for it. The barn to her right was constructed of wood, but a sizable section had rotted away. Caroline leaped to her right, partially clipping the wood, which splintered as she crashed through into the darkness. She tripped and fell, but rolled loosely, and got back onto her feet in time to see The Beast run past. Two gunshots shattered the night air and she heard The Beast before she saw him, he was breathing hard, rasping and grunting. He seemed to have spent every ounce of resolve in the long sprint, even swallowing sounded an effort. He bent his massive frame to get into the hole in the wall, his broad shoulders wedging briefly as he pushed himself through. Caroline had broken the rotten wood away when she had flung herself through at speed. Maybe she had more momentum, or maybe the rotten wood had been trimmed away, but The Beast struggled to push himself through.

And that was all Caroline needed.

She stepped out of the darkness. Shafts of light penetrated the gloom and she stepped closer. The Beast had both hands on the floor, his backside high in the air, like a great ape about to spring up and pound his chest, except he wasn’t going to spring anywhere. Not with his shoulders and neck touching the wood, and nor with the table leg crashing down onto his skull.

The Beast grunted, dropped onto the ground. Until then he had the tiny automatic pistol in his right hand but sandwiched between his palm and the ground as his arms took his weight. Now his hands were free. He waved the pistol towards her, but she was already taking another swing. The table leg cracked his skull again and the tiny pistol scattered out of his hand and across the ground.

“You will have to do better,” he grunted.

He was still moving, crawling closer to