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Authors: John Wiltshire

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Conscious Decisions of the Heart (18 page)

BOOK: Conscious Decisions of the Heart
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“Hello, Squeezy.”

 

“Yeah, don’t you fucking hello me, this—” and he returned to his theme about the cold and the ferry crossing, but Ben tuned him out as he had for the four years they’d served together.

 

Kate hugged him as well. “I like the hair, Ben, and don’t let anyone tell you it’s not manly.” He chuckled into the warm, beautiful-smelling crook of her neck.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, cut the girly shit and let’s go somewhere warm. It was T-shirts in fucking London when we left, and now it’s like Father fucking Christmas is fucking passing over.” They both stared at Squeezy, and he amended, “Jack Frost? Whatever. Fuck.”

 

Ben took them into the restaurant and to his usual table. Alan came over, asking how the search had gone, and Ben shook his head. “I’ve been in contact with some friends who have hunting sheds near the lake. They’ll meet with you this afternoon and help you search them. They know them all. Also, my son Jacob has asked his friends who have cabins on the lake to check them if they’re empty,” Alan told him. “I’m so sorry, but it’s all I could think of to do. The police are doing the same, of course, but it’s a very small force here.” Ben just nodded his thanks. He couldn’t speak and bit his lip, tipping his face up. Squeezy apparently saw an opportunity to make a new friend, so clapped Alan over the shoulder and led him off, proclaiming he hadn’t had a fucking bite to eat in fucking years.

 

Alone at last, Kate looked more seriously at Ben. “You need to eat, and you need to sleep, Ben. If he’s still alive—”

 


If?
What the fuck, Kate!”

 


If
he’s still alive, which you have to admit isn’t very likely—Stop, listen. Ben! Listen. He was almost taken in London, and if they’d got him there, he’d have been dead within hours—if he was lucky. You
know
this.”

 

“No, Kate. You’re wrong. This isn’t related to that. This has nothing to do with Gregory or the Chechens.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it has. He’s been in Russia for months. They’ve followed—”

 

“No. This is different. I can’t explain it, but it is. They wouldn’t have taken him like this. They’d have taken me as well, for a start. I was there, too. I was naked. We had no weapons. Why not take me? I killed two of them, remember?”

 

“Yes, Benjamin, I do. I saw the autopsy reports. Thank you for that reminder. Okay, I see what you’re saying, but who’d take him here, and why? He’s not even here as Aleksey, is he?”

 

“You mean Nikolas.”

 

“Oh, yes, silly me, how could I have got that wrong? But my point is, no one knows he’s here on the island.”

 

“Well, the woman I lived with does, but I think we can rule her out.”

 

“Fuck. Okay, we go to work. I’m downloading geo-sat maps of the lake and surrounds for you, but Ben, just because he was taken by boat doesn’t mean he’s anywhere near the lake. He could’ve been put in a vehicle and be anywhere by now—Okay, we have to start somewhere. Where’re we staying? I assume we can’t use the cabin yet.”

 

“I’ve got a friend to put you up. She’s nice. Gabby. She’s being really helpful. She speaks okay English. Squeezy’s in with me at Ingrid’s.”

 

“Okay, I’ll go to Gabby’s and set up. You and Squeezy—does he have a real name? I can’t call him that—seriously, Ben.”

 

Ben frowned in puzzlement. She put a hand on his arm. “Priorities. Go. Go and look for him.”

 

Ben and Squeezy took the boat back out with Daddybark, Radulf’s new Op Fucking Cold nickname. No one in Special Forces could avoid a nickname so Squeezy had given their new sniffer dog one. (He’d been instrumental in naming the operation, too.)

 

They picked up where Ben left off that morning. They met with Alan’s friends who all sympathised with Ben, promised this kind of thing was unheard of for such a small place as Aeroe, and then topped them up with thermoses of hot coffee and rolls.

 

At each place they stopped, Daddybark was let out to run around sniffing, but he scented nothing relevant. Ben knew Squeezy wanted to point out that it was far more likely Nikolas had been abducted by car, and that Daddybark had probably been following a deer scent to the lake. Ben was grateful his friend kept the thought to himself though and let
him
dictate the search parameters. As he told Ben, everyone in the Regiment had learnt to respect his spooky hunches. Ben reckoned Squeezy’s eagerness to search the lake was more because he’d discovered the small boat had a space heater in the cabin, and between stops he had it on full blast.

 

It was dark by four—such a short day. Ben was frantic now. He could hear ice cracking on the lake. A second night of an ice storm was expected. He couldn’t shake his last picture of Nik naked in the snow. He knew how long people lasted in weather like this.

 

They docked the boat and returned to the car.

 

Ben wanted to kill something but he didn’t have the energy.

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Nikolas thought he would die that night. He’d never been so cold. Even in the gulags, they’d had other bodies to huddle with to keep warm. Even in Zaslon in the mountains of Afghanistan or Iran or whatever shithole place he’d been sent he’d had survival equipment. Lying on the concrete floor of the shed, only the thin blankets over him, he felt himself hovering dangerously on the edge of a place he couldn’t come back from. He wasn’t alone, of course. Whenever he was this vulnerable, they all came to keep him company, to remind him of their pain and their suffering before they’d died at his hands, the men, the women, and the children—beaten, shot, tortured, starved, and in some cases, eaten. They were the worst, the eaten. They came holding the organs they’d given up to the ravenous appetites of the gulag. They offered them to him again, but he swore at them and raved, showing them his chains, telling them there had been no option. But they knew the truth—he existed only through their sacrifice. How could they leave? They were there by right; they were fuelling his body, keeping him alive.

 

She came back before first light. She set down a lantern on the table. He wasn’t really aware of her presence. He felt her lift his head and something hot was offered to him. He ate it as best he could. It was a kind of fish soup, very hot and full of chunks. He wolfed it down as fast as she would spoon it to him. Then she brought in some more blankets and a mat for sleeping on. He was profoundly grateful yet wanted to stuff them into her throat and watch her choke slowly at the same time. “Why are you doing this, Anna?”

 

“You’re a very bad man.”

 

He struggled to his knees. She sat primly across from him on one of the blankets she’d brought, just out of reach. “But this is ridiculous. What’re you going to do with me? Why are you doing this? Someone will find me. Why are you keeping me here like this?”

 

“You’re a bad man.”

 

“Yes, I know that! You stu—Anna, I
am
a bad man, you’re right, but Ben isn’t, is he?”

 

“I love Ben, and he loves me, and
you
hurt him. I have to keep him safe. I’ve taken you away to keep him safe.”

 

“Anna,”
you crazy, psychotic bitch,
“listen to me, please.
This
will hurt Ben. He’ll be—”

 

“He’s glad you’re gone. He can be with me now.”

 

“Okay, okay. Can you maybe fix my hands in front, Anna? I can’t—”

 

“No, I’m not stupid, you know. You’d try and—”

 

“Anna,”
I’m remembering Rule 1; I’m remembering Rule 1,
“Anna, please, I’m asking you to help me because you’re the only one who can. You’ve looked after me, haven’t you?—lovely food, your best china. Yes, see, I noticed. Thank you, and the blankets are very warm. But, you see, I’m a man, Anna. I can’t…piss…with my hands behind my back. And I wouldn’t ask you to help. I respect you too much for that. Please, Anna, think what Ben would want you to do?”

 

She stood. “You’re the
devil
. You’re whispering things in my ear, and it’s not true. You’re trying to trick me to come over there.”

 

“Anna, look at me—I’m totally helpless
.” I wrote Rule fucking 5
. “I’m in your power now. You have
all
the power here. Look, I’m bleeding, I’m shivering, I’m chained, and I can’t move. You only have to chain my hands in the front. Please, Anna. Anna, listen, I’ll help you with Ben. I know he loves you really. We even had a fight about you. I was very angry.”

 

“I know you had a fight. I was watching you. You
hurt
him.”

 

“What? You were watching us? You were fucking
watching
us?”

 

“You hit him and then you—What did you do to him? I didn’t understand…You took your…it was…I thought—”

 

“In the snow? You watched us?”
Fuck Rule 1!
He lunged at her, his shoulders screaming in agony as the chain pulled them tight behind him. “I’m going to cut out your fucking lungs and make you fucking
eat
them you fucking cunt. Come back here and take your stinking fucking—Anna? Anna!
Fuck
!” He sank back down, panting. It took a moment, but then he realised he’d screamed at her in Russian…he thought…he wasn’t too sure…

 

There was hope his bonding plan might still work then.

 

§ § §

 

They held a small council of war that night at Ingrid’s. She felt so helpless and did what she could by feeding them all, supplying endless coffee, and trying, unsuccessfully, to make sure Ben actually ate something. And it was the first time in many months she’d had that problem. Kate brought Gabby with her because Gabby wanted to help as much as she could, and she had excellent local knowledge. She studied the maps Ben laid out on the table, noting the houses and hunting shacks he’d already checked. She sat next to him and laid a supportive hand on his arm. Squeezy was the quietest of the group. Once he’d discovered Ingrid understood English, he’d been rendered mute. He contented himself throwing Daddybark’s ball for him across the room, but as Radulf was taking his new operational status very seriously and didn’t have time for games, Squeezy had to fetch as well as throw. It kept him busy.

 

It was Gabby who came up with the suggestion the abduction mightn’t be anything to do with Aeroe, but might relate to Christian’s London life. Consequently, she reasoned, they should be looking to see if he’d been taken off the island—and, if so, how. As this mirrored what Kate already thought (but what Ben had so far utterly refused to accept), they had to take the theory seriously. They made a list of the main routes off Aeroe, noting the small airport at Marstal. As Gabby pointed out, they were only
assuming
Christian had been taken by boat to somewhere local. Wasn’t it much more likely he’d been taken by car and was now off the island completely? Kate pointed out the police had already contacted the ports and the airfield. Gabby rejoined that just because the police were checking the
lake
didn’t mean
Ben
wasn’t as well. Shouldn’t they also, therefore, double-check the ports and airport? Ben couldn’t argue with her logic. He was incredibly grateful for her support and put his hand over hers where she was resting it on his arm.

 

There didn’t seem much more they could do that night. Gabby offered to swap places with Squeezy, although she didn’t actually attempt to say his name (it seemed to confuse all the Danes they’d introduced him to). But as he and Ben were sharing the big double bed, he refused her offer, and she left again with Kate. It was a long night. Squeezy lay head to foot with Ben as guys do when sharing a bed—those that weren’t on the same terms as Ben had been with Nikolas, of course—and Radulf lay between them on his back, legs spread wide, offering to be on very good terms with anyone who’d oblige him. They talked for a while, but Ben was too depressed to bother making much small talk. He knew Squeezy was going to ask though. It was inevitable. He was only surprised he’d left it this long.

 

“So…” Ben almost smiled at Squeezy’s attempt to sound casual. “This Christian bloke, Mergers. You’re not fucking working for him, are you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Huh. Okay…So, you’re what? Fucking gay?”

 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t until I met him.”

 

“Right. Fuck, that’s good to know. So…not gay when I fucking knew you?”

 

“Nope. No more than you.”

 

“And I’m fucking not, okay?” A long silence ensued. “So…what’s the fucking attraction, mate? Some gorgeous fucking girls on this island. Man, did you see that—?”

BOOK: Conscious Decisions of the Heart
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