Page 78 of Savage Warrior

He peeps out again and surveys the room. “Is Arina here?”

“No. She’s a long way away. In another country. But we can go to see her. Would you like that?”

“Mrs Barazna won’t let me.”

“She can’t stop you if we sneak out and she doesn’t see us.”

He’s silent again, thinking that through. At last, he gets to his feet.

I curse under my breath. The boy is wearing just a T-shirt and shorts, and now that I have him in the light, I see he’s covered in bruises. I touch one particularly angry-looking smudge on his arm. “How did this happen?” I ask him in a low voice.

“I was naughty,” he replies. “Mrs Barazna doesn’t like boys who are naughty.”

I bite back a snarl. “Well, I do. So does Arina. I’m naughty, too, sometimes.” I wink at him. “Shall we be naughty together?”

“She might hit us,” he warns me.

I lean in to whisper, “If she does, we’ll hit her back, shall we?”

He gives a tearful giggle and nods.

“I have a good idea. We’ll sneak out behind her back. Shall we do that, while she’s not watching?”

He giggles some more. “We won’t tell her.”

“No, we won’t.” I take his hand. “You hide behind me so she can’t see you.”

“But she might shout at us.” He pulls his hand away and shakes.

I crouch in front of him, my hands on his thin shoulders. “You wait here a moment. I’ll go and make sure she’s not there.”

I leave him perched on the edge of the bed and go back into the other room. “The kid’s terrified of them,” I tell Ethan. “I need you to make sure they keep quiet while we leave. He’s been traumatised enough without listening to their caterwauling.”

“Sure. My pleasure.” With no further ado, he knocks the man senseless with a swift punch to the chin. He turns to regard the woman. “Do I need to do the same to you?”

She may not speak English but obviously gets the gist. She cowers away from him.

“The boy’s black and blue,” I tell him.

Ethan tips his chin in the man’s direction. “Him?”

“No. Her.”

“Ah, well, in that case…” He delivers a second knock-out punch. “Right. Shall we be off?”

I return to Yuryl and pick him up. He’s as light as a feather and is still shaking. I press his face against my shoulder. “You need to hide, just like I said. She won’t be able to see you. Can you do that?”

He nods against me, his small fists curling into my jacket.

“Okay. We’re off.”

I lead the way, Ethan close behind me. We exit the dingy apartment, leaving the couple unconscious. In my view, they’ve got off lightly. We jog across the street to where the Trabant is waiting. One of the rear doors opens when we approach, and I slide in with the child in my arms. Ethan hops in the front, and Aaron starts the engine.

“Where to?” he asks as he pulls away.

“We’ll rendezvous with Marius,” Ethan replies. “We need to make sure Yuryl’s safe, then go back for Natalija.”

We meet the Moldovans in a deserted multi-storey car park and deposit the little boy with them. Yuryl is remarkably calm about being handed off to strangers, testimony probably to the events of his recent past.

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