Hot Revenge Box Set 2

James

Michael looks me up and down. “You fit to walk?”

“I’ll manage.”

He gives a short jerk of his head and turns to Charlotte, arms outstretched. “You walk. I’ll carry Cara for you.”

She retreats, clutching Cara to herself, shrieking. “No!”

Michael steps back, holding up his palms. “Whoa… Calm down. It’s me. What do you think I’m going to do?”

She bursts into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

He takes a step closer, moving carefully. “Charlotte, we have to leave. I’m not sure you can carry Cara and walk too.”

“No.” She swings her head in denial, tries to step out, then totters, Cara still tight to her chest.

Michael exchanges a look with me, shaking his head, then he moves in… “Hold on to Cara.” …. sweeping her up. His voice changes to a kind of fake yokel accent. “Come, Mr Frodo!” he says. “I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you.”

She gives him a watery smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. You’ll be fine when we’ve got you home and rested up for a few days.”

Klempner shoves a knife into his belt. Another into the top of his boot. A handgun into a pocket. Then, picking up his SMG, “We need to get moving. I'll go to the front. Michael, you with Jenny in between. James, cover our backs.”

*****

Michael

My arms full of Charlotte, we clear the first flight of stairs to the corridor of ‘cells’. “Klempner, we should release the other women.”

at me, then looking along the passage and its barred doorways, nods

time for that. Once we're out, you can sing to the world about what's in here, but until

Finchby and Baxter could have murdered all the witnesses. Gotten rid of the

those cells represents his working stock. His property. He’ll not be eager to get rid of them. What’s your

around the place, creating chaos, trying to escape, is likely to make our job

to the man with the highest bid. Get on with

do have my axe. James, can you

Cara with one hand, waving a gun in the

the axe from my shoulders, I aim… swing… and strike at the first padlock. The angle’s

aim, this time

lock springs open and after a brief struggle with the bolt,

eyed, fair-skinned, she would be

gesture her,

James with Charlotte and Cara. Wide-eyed,

head around the door. “Você quer partir? Venha conosco.” He throws

scrabbling up, dashes out, joining us,

quer ajudar?” He jabs a finger to me… “Ajudem-no.” Then

the next. Half a minute later, she exits, now with another two women,

on the next. Klempner taps me on the shoulder. “Keep at it. I’ll see if I can find those keys. Back

count. The crowd of women grows; black-skinned, white-skinned, coffee-skinned. Asian, Caucasian, Afro. Few seem to share a language, but all come bursting from their grim prisons, flooding down the cells. A couple of boys emerge from one cell, ten, maybe eleven years old. Another, with eyes like

the hands

tugs at his sleeve. “Onde

não sei. Em toda parte. Eles não

“What are you saying?”

to scatter. Finchby can’t catch all of them and Baxter probably won’t

door

Gunshots…

screaming and shouting, chaotically, the women scatter. Splitting and flowing one way and the other; maybe thirty of them,

yells, “Suba as

pronounced. He must already have been exhausted as he arrived at the cell and he’d taken a beating. He may not want to admit it, but

needs you with a gun in your hand. Charlotte,

me a