Scott Andrews - School's Out Forever

“Home sweet home,” he said.

“Want to come in for a nightcap?”

He turned and looked at her, lips pursed, appraising. “No, Kate. Best if I don’t. Maybe once this is all over…”

“Right, yes, of course. I only meant a coffee anyway. I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, off I go. And thanks for today.”

“You’re welcome.”

FOUR DAYS LATER, Kate was sitting in the back of a Ford Focus on the M1 north. The giant was crammed into the front passenger seat and the yellow toothed man who kept smiling at her was driving. The stereo was playing some awful Euro-pop.

The rain was coming down in sheets and the windscreen wipers were barely able to cope as they weaved in and out of the traffic. She didn’t envy anyone who was trying to follow them through this deluge. She resisted the urge to check the mobile phone in her pocket. The transmitter inside was working, Cooper had checked it himself yesterday. All she could achieve by fingering it was to draw attention to it, which was the last thing she wanted.

Somewhere out there in the downpour, Cooper and his team were gathering, ready for the kill. After her visit to Hereford, Kate had a suspicion that she knew what Cooper had meant by ‘bending the rules’. She had seen footage of the Iranian Embassy siege. She knew what to expect and she knew what to do. She was pretty sure that she’d be seeing Sanders again by the end of the day and that thought reassured her; he inspired confidence somehow, even more so than Cooper.

Everything was going to be fine, she told herself. This has all been planned by professionals. Nothing can go wrong.

The giant turned in his seat and looked back at her. He held out his hand.

“Give me phone,” he said.

“Sorry?” she asked, taken by surprise.

“Phone.”

“Why?”

He didn’t say anything, just kept his hand held out, impassive.

Kate gulped and reached into her pocket, removing the phone and handing it to him.

“Careful with it, eh. That’s top of the range,” she joked, trying not to reveal her sudden terror.

The giant wound down the window and tossed the phone out onto the motorway. The window closed with a soft buzz of internal motors.

“What the fuck was that for?” she yelled.

The giant turned again and held up a little black plastic box with a small LED that flashed red. “Boss not like bugs,” he said, matter of fact. Then he turned back and returned to staring out at the lorries as they sped past, each carrying a cloud of spray behind it.

Kate sat there knowing with total certainty that she was a dead woman.

Two hours later they pulled up outside a huge Victorian warehouse in Moss Side. Kate knew where they were because the giant had not told her to look at the floor and had not bothered with the sleep mask. That they didn’t take such rudimentary precautions confirmed to her that she was not going to be allowed to walk out of wherever they were taking her.

The giant unfolded himself into the street and pulled her door open, ushering her inside the warehouse through big black wooden doors. The rain was still pouring, and the air was saturated with the hoppy aroma of a nearby brewery.

The ground floor was massive and unsegregated. Racks of cheap clothing stretched away on all sides into the gloom. The giant led Kate to the stairs and they went up two storeys. The second floor was also full of cheap clothes, this time in piles on tables, being sorted by a small group of women, Kate guessed Somali but she couldn’t be sure. This floor had a wall running across it, and the giant led her to a small door which, incongruously, had a keypad lock. He typed in the code and the door clicked open.

The other side of the door was a different world. Kate walked from a low rent sweatshop into a plush corridor decorated with velvet wallpaper, laid with deep red carpets and decorated with modern art prints and photographs, all soft core, nothing too obvious.

The next door led into a lobby area that felt more like a lounge or a bar. Leather sofas and armchairs dotted the room, ringing small round tables with table lamps on them, casting a soft glow. There was an unmanned bar in the far corner..

“Sit,” said the giant without looking at her. She did so as he left by a small door beside the bar, going deeper into this hidden world.

Kate sat there, collecting her thoughts. The transmitter was gone, so all Cooper knew was that she had been taken. He’d have no idea where she was now unless he’d been able to physically keep the car in sight at all times. She figured the torrential rain made that unlikely.

She was on her own. There was no cavalry coming.

Worse than that, Spider would know by now that she had betrayed him. He might react in a number of ways. He could kill her outright, but she thought at the very least he’d want her to examine the new intake first. Alternatively, he could disappear her into his system, send her to some dank cellar or a dungeon somewhere to be kept on ice ready for a client who fancied a girl who’d put up a fight. That seemed most likely. After all, she was a resource he could use to turn a profit.

She told herself to stay calm and clear headed. As long as she was alive, there was a chance she could find a way to alert Cooper.

The wild card here, she knew, was her brother. What might Spider do to him?

She didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

The internal door swung open and Spider entered. He was wearing a different but equally well cut suit, this time of dark purple. His face was impassive and he moved with controlled, almost robotic precision. He walked behind the bar without acknowledging her, took a glass from beneath the counter and poured himself a whisky before looking up at Kate.

“Drink?” he said.

Kate considered for a moment before nodding. “Red wine, please.”

He took a wine glass down from a shelf and began to open a bottle.

“I thought we had an understanding, Miss Booker,” he said as he pulled the cork out with a soft pop.

Kate thought it best to stay silent.

“I thought that you understood the consequences of betrayal,” he continued, pouring the wine into the large glass.

“My lieutenant thinks I should give you to him. He thinks it would be fun to rape you while strangling you. Although he enjoys fucking them, I think he does not like women very much. He likes to cut them with the bayonet his grandfather used in the Second World War. He keeps it very sharp.” The glass full, he put the bottle down, walked over to Kate and handed her the drink. “Does that sound like an appropriate punishment to you, Miss Booker?” he asked.

She took the glass and had to put it down immediately, as her hands were shaking too badly to hold it steady.

Spider remained standing, looking down on her. “I worry, though, that if I were to let him have his way with you, you would not learn your lesson.”

The internal door swung open again and Kate stifled a cry of fear as she saw her brother being led into the room by the giant.

He saw her and smiled. “Hi Kit,” he said. Then he registered the fear on her face and the single minded focus with which Spider was regarding her, and his step faltered.

“I think,” said Spider quietly, “that a different punishment would be better.” He turned to James and smiled. “Hello, Booker.”

“Hi Boss,” said James, giving the most unconvincing smile Kate had ever seen.

“James, how long have you been working for me?”

“Ooh, six months now, I reckon.”

“Six months.” Spider nodded. “You have been a good worker.”

“Er, Boss,” said James, trying not to let his fear show. “What’s up?”

“Your sister has betrayed me to the police. She tried to bring a transmitter here with her.”