Page 30 of Savage Warrior

When I finish, he lets out a low whistle.

“So, you’ve got company?”

“Looks like it.”

“You okay with that?”

“I’ll have to be. Any idea who these bastards could be?”

“Not off the top of my head. I’ll give it some thought. You’re not thinking of going after them, are you?”

“No, but it wouldn’t hurt to know what I’m up against. We’re out at the arse end of fuck knows where here, so they’re unlikely to come calling, but you never know.”

“Fair enough. Keep me posted and give me a shout if you need help.”

“Will do.”

My next call is to a contact in Inverness. Michelangelo, real name Artie Crudders, is a first-class forger. I outline my needs and promise to get a photograph to him as soon as possible. He quotes me ten grand and reckons he can do the job in a few days.

“It’s a deal.”

“Half up front, mind.”

“I’ll transfer the money.”

“No way. I deal in cash. No exceptions.”

I’d expected that. I don’t argue. “As soon as I can get out of here, I’ll come to Inverness.” I can combine the trip with buying clothes for Arina.

“Let me know when you’re on your way and I’ll give you a location to meet.”

I finish the call and go back inside. Arina is still sleeping, so I help myself to what’s left of the coffee and take stock.

Jack never actually asked me why I was bothering to help Arina. Her predicament isn’t my problem, after all. I could tell he was thinking it, though. So am I.

On one level, it’s straightforward enough. I’m drowning in guilt about my part in Moses’ death. I realise that’s not rational. Enough people have said it wasn’t my fault, and I genuinely know I could not have tried harder. But trying wasn’t enough. My friend is dead, for the simple reason I couldn’t save him. A life for a life. Fair exchange. I know that’s what motivated me to go after her last night. I failed Moses, but Arina was a second chance of a sort, and I took it.

From there, I suppose I felt committed. I took responsibility for her. She needs me.

Or should that be, she needs someone and I’m the only one here?

The money isn’t an issue. Ethan pays well, I have ample funds and not a lot else I want to spend it on. What’s a forged passport here and there?

I glance over at her sleeping form. She appears fragile, and very young. Pretty, too. I can see why Arina caught their attention. There are men who’ll pay a small fortune for a girl like this to vent their sordid fantasies on. Small, blonde, virginal. And ultimately, disposable once she’s broken and is no longer any use or of any value. I wonder how long she would have lasted.

I rinse my empty mug under the tap. The sound of running water wakes her. She opens her eyes and stares at me, not speaking.

“How are you feeling?” I sit on the edge of the bed.

She shrinks away from me. “I am well. Thank you.”

She doesn’t look it. I press on. “Are you hungry?”

Reluctantly, she sits up. “I can cook…”

“I’ll get it. Tinned soup okay?” Tony packed a crate of the stuff. His culinary imagination is not extensive.

She nods, so I leave her to hide under the bedclothes while I warm it up. We sit opposite each other at the tiny table to eat it, then she immediately retreats to the bed again. I get the feeling she’s staying as far from me as she can, but given the size of the cabin, her options are limited.

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