Page 128 of Hold On

“How may I help you?” a man asked.

“Code 704. 3542 requesting extraction. The SO is Arcon. Member of public being held in—” He turned to the chef. “Where am I?”

“The Green Man, Whittle Lane, Lower Brocklehurst.”

“Postcode?”

Ren repeated it all to the guy on the phone. “That’s where I am. The member of the public is in a house about two miles away. Three storey. Modern. Brick built. Herringbone pattern drive. No houses around it.”

“That’s Dalesway,” the chef said.

“Sure?” Ren asked.

“Yep. The owners are visiting relatives in Australia. Regulars here. They have it up on Airbnb.”

“Hear that?” Ren asked.

“Yes. Sit tight. Help’s coming.”

The call ended and Ren handed back the phone. “Thank you.”

“This really isn’t some gag?”

Ren shook his head. His legs started to shake and he leaned against the wall. “You might get a call for me come through on your phone.”

“Go into the bar and I’ll get you something to eat and drink.”

“I can’t risk being seen.”

“You actually think they’ll try and kill you?”

Ren lifted his T-shirt and showed the guy his scars.Oh, and my bruises.Still, he looked beaten up. “They tried once. Next time they won’t fail.”

“Christ. Okay, then come and sit in the kitchen. You’ll be out of sight. If anyone asks, you’re my friend and waiting for my shift to end. I’m Marco. What’s your name?”

“Alex. It’s not, but…”

“Okay. You think these guys are going to come here?”

“If they realise I’ve gone, they’ll know I won’t have got far. Not on foot and with no shoes.”

“What do they look like?”

“One English guy with miss-shaped ears, a woman with long dark hair wearing jeans and a red blouse. Four men with strong accents. 30s and 40s. Big guys. Jeans and T-shirts. One has a lot of rings on his fingers. A scar down his left cheek.” Tengiz was the most easily identified.

Marco nodded. He led Ren to a chair in the corner of the kitchen and Ren dropped down, adrenaline flooding out of his body. His feet really hurt now. How long would it take Foster to get a team here? A clock on the wall told him it was almost nine.

The kitchen was busy. Marco must have been the head chef because he was the one issuing orders and everyone was jumping. The food smelt good but it also made Ren feel queasy.

“Alex? Marco says do you want some water? Or something to eat?” A young man in chef’s whites had come up without Ren noticing.Pull yourself together!

“Just water, please…Alex.” His name was on his white jacket.

Ren had just finished the water when Marco came over with his phone. “Call for you.”

“Hello,” Ren said.

“What the fuck?”

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