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

Caroline remained silent.

“You want her to talk, ‘bro?” the man in the rear seat asked. “I’ll make her fucking sing!”

“Don’t need to, Vince. Just need to cut her throat and dump her someplace. Like I said, should have let those caffers have their way with her and kill her for us.”

“Oh, I think we can each have a go in her before we do the deed.”

Caroline wanted to scream and shout. She wanted to lash out, to tell them what she thought of them. But she also wanted to get away. There were ways of doing that, and keeping calm would be one of them. She was a former soldier, an intelligence officer in 14 Intelligence Company before joining MI5. She had been in tight situations before, and now that they were moving, as far as she was concerned the only one of threat to her was the man behind her with the knife. Once they found someplace quiet and both men got out of the car, then she would be as good as dead.

They left the road at a junction and Cape Town was fading into the distance behind them. There were occasional shacks. Some were clearly homesteads, others were open for business selling everything from fruit and vegetables to tacky gift shop souvenirs. One shack seemed to sell nothing but broom handles. A mile down the road and the next shack sold broom heads. Both owners must have kept in business by remaining in the chain. Stores could have learned from this worldwide.

Another mile and they turned off at a sharp right-hand junction and the road, although still tarmacked, was in a terrible state of repair. Kruger didn’t slow his speed accordingly and they rattled and shook over the potholes.

Caroline took several deep breaths. The man behind her had relaxed his knife hand a little, and the blade waved eight inches or so in front of her neck. She glanced at the speedometer. They were travelling at fifty-miles-per-hour. She had been travelling with her hands in her lap. She carefully raised her left hand to her breast, fingered an imaginary itch.

“I suppose it’s better than falling into the hands of those caffers,” Kruger said. “You’d have been passed around like a piece of meat. They’re clumsy too. Not professional killers like us. We’ll have a ride first, then do it really quick.”

Caroline turned towards him, moved her right hand across and rested it on her right knee. “You’re assuming a great deal.”

“What?”

“You’re assuming a great deal,” she said again.

Kruger turned to her. “Listen, lady…”

Caroline heaved on the handbrake and vehicle slewed on the poor surface. It slowed suddenly and with it the man in the rear seat was thrown forwards. Caroline grabbed his hand around the wrist with her left hand and pulled. At the same time, she chopped the edge of her right hand into Kruger’s throat. There was an audible gasp and he took his hand off the wheel and clutched his throat as he fought for air. Caroline got both hands around the other man’s wrist and twisted his arm over. She could hear him grunting, but his arm had twisted to such an angle, he was unable to use his superior strength to right himself. It wasn’t going to snap, but he couldn’t fight against her either. She went for the knife, but as her grip halved, the man was already getting back some control of his arm. The car was slowing steadily, and the inertia which had briefly propelled the man in the rear forwards was levelling out. Caroline finally got control of the knife and she whipped it around in an arc and stabbed Kruger in his stomach. It glided in like it was butter and stopped at the hilt, with Caroline’s fist resting against his stomach and the blood that had quickly appeared. The man screamed, but it trailed off to a gasp. Caroline twisted in her seat to take on the man in the rear, but he was scrambling over the headrest and pummelling her with an onslaught of vicious blows. She had pulled the bloody blade from Kruger’s gut and slashed it backwards catching her attacker’s forearm. He didn’t seem to notice, but soon would as it had filleted almost a pound of flesh from the bone, leaving it hanging by mere threads. He started to scream, clawed at the door and rolled out onto the dirt as the car slewed to a halt.

Kruger was reaching for his pistol, but Caroline buried the knife into his stomach once more and he gasped again, groaning as he exhaled. She caught hold of the butt of the pistol and pulled it clear. It was a 9mm Beretta model 92 and she had used one before. Many years ago, but you don’t forget. She eased back the slide, saw the chambered round and dropped the safety catch with her thumb. She felt the rush of air as the door opened. She barely had time to look, let alone aim, but she twisted around to see the other man standing over her, his right arm a mass of red, his left holding the door wide open. She got the muzzle less than two feet from the man’s mid-rift and fired three times in quick succession. The man buckled at the knees, but he wasn’t down. She moved her torso and bettered her position, but screamed as she felt Kruger’s hand grip around her throat from the driver’s seat. Again, she fired multiple shots at the man in the door opening, then smashed her elbow backwards into Kruger’s face. She already had the pistol tracking back towards him as he recoiled. She put the weapon into his bloodied gut and fired again. Once, twice, three times. The man went still and limp behind the wheel, but he exhaled