Page 46 of Beyond Repair
‘Jesus Christ,’ he muttered after their breathing had settled and he’d rolled them so she was settled against his chest. ‘Was I too rough?’
‘No, no. That was … that was amazing … I – ’ He cut her off with a kiss.
‘Right,’ he murmured as he pulled back to shift her under him again. ‘That took the edge off.Thistime we go slow.’
‘Wh…wha…?’ Katie trailed off as Sam starting working his way down her body. ‘O…okay,’ she breathed as her toes curled into the bed.
*****
As Sam swam up towards full consciousness he took a deep breath but choked on the blood that had pooled in his mouth. He turned onto his side, feeling the sharp, searing stab of pain through his chest, and he groaned.
‘Finally.’ He heard Goodie’s rasping voice from across the room. He blinked into the dim half-light, managing to make her out where she was slumped against the wall, her blonde hair matted with dirt and blood. ‘Sleeping Beauty awakes.’
‘How long – ?’ he croaked, before another coughing fit overtook him and a trail of fire ripped across his chest again. ‘How long have I been out?’ he managed.
‘Couple of hours,’ Goodie told him, her voice hoarse and accent thicker, but other than that sounding as calm as if they were still at base camp and not handcuffed to fucking radiators in a filthy, blood-stained concrete cell. ‘Now Your Highness is awake we can plan, no?’
‘Where’s Richard?’ he asked, rolling onto his back to try and ease the aching pain.
‘They have him,’ she said simply. ‘They took him whilst you were sleeping.’
‘Why…’ He coughed again and then groaned. ‘Why him?’
‘Well, genius, you were asleep. They are now scared shitless of me.’
‘Scared of you?’
‘Those arrogant zhopas*,’ she spat.
‘Careful, your Russian’s showing.’
He couldn’t see her properly but heard her expel a frustrated huff of breath. ‘They think that if a woman can fight it must be supernatural. They believe me possessed by the devil.’ Sam nearly smiled, but flinched as he felt the split in his upper lip pull apart.
‘They may be right,’ he muttered, bracing himself with his hands either side of his hips in an attempt to sit up. The cold metal of the handcuff tethering him to the radiator cut into his flesh as he pushed against the floor. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he swore when he finally managed to heave himself up to slump against the wall. He could feel the effects of every single one of the blows from the steel-toe boots those fucking cowards had worn. His eyes were adjusting to the light better now and he could make out Goodie’s face more clearly.
‘What happened to your face?’ he croaked, and she frowned, her hand going up to touch the dried blood covering her mouth and most of her cheeks, then she smiled.
‘Well,’ she said slowly, her smile still firmly in place and her teeth appearing glaring white against a background of so much blood. ‘They made the mistake of believing that I could not fight without the use of my arms or legs.’ She nodded over towards the door, and Sam gagged as he made out the small shape of what looked to be a human ear. ‘They will not make this mistake again, I think.’
‘No,’ he replied, swallowing the bile back down over his already aching throat. He was beginning to see why the powers that be had been so insistent and spent so much money on getting Goodie to come with them. She was hands down the most vicious, uncompromising operative he had ever encountered. ‘So, what now?’
Goodie pulled on her own handcuff, causing it to clink against the metal of the radiator, then spread her hands. ‘Now, we wait. They will come, they will make another mistake, and then, they will die.’
Two hours later and Sam’s throat was aching more furiously than ever. The heat in the room they were being held in had intensified as the early hours of the morning gave way to the middle of the day. The buzzing of flies in the small space was all they could hear, and, just as he had started to imagine that they had been left there to rot, he heard a heavy lock falling open on the other side of the door. A man that Sam recognised from the surveillance photos they had studied strode into the cramped space wearing a cream suit and a light blue shirt, looking around the room in disgust. The man held a bottle of water in one hand and a bloodstained knife in the other. Sam noticed him grimacing down at the mangled ear on the floor, giving Goodie a particularly wide berth, and instead making his way over to Sam’s side of the room. Two other men followed, both of whom Sam recognised from earlier, both of them dressed in the same dusty clothes they had been wearing before.
Cream Suit Man handed Sam a bottle of water and Sam didn’t hesitate to wrench off the cap and take a few deep gulps – if it was drugged or poisoned so be it, he would die anyway in this heat with no water. Having finished half the bottle, and before the man could take it away from him, Sam threw it across to Goodie, who plucked it out of the air with ease and polished off the rest at speed. Cream Suit Man’s eyes flashed with irritation but Sam noticed that he made no move towards Goodie.
Pussy.
‘I think maybe you have enough time, no?’ Cream Suit Man said smoothly, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Maybe now you can tell us who sent you? Maybe now we can ask where the others are hiding in our jungle. Because thereareothers. Do not think I am stupid. The three of you are not alone.’ Sam and Goodie stared stonily up at his dark-skinned, clean-shaven face, and for the first time since this whole clusterfuck began Sam realised something.
They were going to die.
These evil sons of bitches were not going to negotiate. They had enough money and power to buy and sell small countries; the paltry ransom a couple of soldiers and a mercenary might fetch was pocket change to them. They were only interested in finding them all and eradicating them off the face of the earth. The only reason Sam and Goodie were still alive was likely just a time-saving exercise. If they could pinpoint where their colleagues had set up camp in the vast Colombian jungle surrounding this complex, and wipe them out immediately, they wouldn’t have to be scouring through the trees or waiting for another strike.
Cream Suit Man’s mouth twisted in what Sam assumed was supposed to be a smile. ‘I see some persuasion is needed,’ he said, nodding at his men, who quickly moved to the door.
They were gone for a few minutes before Sam heard their heavy footfalls along the corridor outside, and another noise. Something was being dragged along with the men, scraping along the tiled floor. Sam glanced over at Goodie and saw her eyes close briefly in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, before she opened them and blanked her expression again. He felt the bile rise up in his throat again, and it took all of his formidable self-control to stop himself shouting out when the men struggled through the door, dropping their heavy load in the middle of the room.
