Disclaimer – I don't own the characters. They belong to ACD, MG and SM and the BBC. No one pays me to do this, I do it for love.
Chapter Thirty Seven
'Senhora? Senhora? Você está bem?'
As the last, ear-shattering reverberations from the two gun shots finally decayed and dissipated, within the stairwell, the complete and utter silence that followed was broken by the sound of a man's voice. He repeated the same phrase twice, maybe three times and then Molly felt a tentative hand on her shoulder. She tensed at the touch and curled her body round her two boys, shielding them from whatever the man intended to do.
Molly's ears were still singing, whining, with tinnitus from the intense assault of the sound waves the gun shots had let loose in the echo chamber of hard, reflective surfaces that they occupied. Her boys were silent and her eyes were still screwed tight shut so she could not see them. She dared not open her eyes for fear of what she might see. She had heard William scream but now he made no sound at all. She could not even hear or feel the boys breathing.
Then, she heard the man's voice again, talking quickly and quietly, but not to her. She wondered if he might be talking to the other two men who had burst in on them but, if he was, they were not answering.
Molly's olfactory sense was overcome with the acrid odour of explosive, from the gun shots. Intermingled with this was the distinctive smell of fresh blood – and a lot of it. She knew well enough, as a pathologist, that the human sense of smell was not powerful enough to pick up the scent of blood unless it was very close, very old or a lot of it. There was definitely a lot of blood, very nearby. Yet again, she dared not look to see if the source might be one or even both of her boys. If it were, she thought she might lose her sanity.
The man had stopped talking. All was quiet again, but for the tinnitus. Then she felt something move underneath her and she heard a small voice say,
'Mamama?' followed by the strangest sound, a sound she had so rarely heard, it was a shock as great as the sound of the gun going off. Freddie began to cry. He started off with a low drone but it quickly grew in volume and tone until it was a full-blown, high-pitched scream of terror and alarm. She could not ignore that sound. She opened her eyes.
Looking down, she first saw William, his eyes closed, his face contorted, his hands pressed to his ears, his body rigid. Lying face down, on top of him, was Freddie, his head raised, looking round, trying to turn to look at her but unable to do so because her weight was pinning him down.
'Freddie! Mummy's here! Don't cry, baby,' she uttered, in a high-pitched breathy squeak she barely recognised as her own voice.
She eased her weight of the two boys, pushing up onto her knees, then she lifted Freddie off his brother and turned him in her arms so he was facing her. His face was red and tears flowed freely as he gasped and sobbed and gasped some more, with fear and shock and general disorientation. She held him to her chest, with one arm, and rocked and soothed whilst, at the same time reaching down to William, stroking his head and cheeks, rubbing his shoulder and chest, trying to elicit some sort of response. But he remained rigid and still, but for the far too rapid movement of his chest, as he hyperventilated.
Molly's total absorption in seeing to the welfare of her children was assaulted by the sound of running feet and shouting, coming nearer, from somewhere below. She held Freddie tighter and leant over William again, shielding them from whatever this new threat might be. Then she heard the man's voice again, speaking sharply but not loudly. The sound of running and shouting faltered and then dropped to a low hum.
Then, she felt a change in the air, a warm breeze, coming from her left, then the now familiar sound of the fire door opening on its hinges, followed by Caro's voice saying,
'Oh, my god! What has happened here?'
The next moment, her friend was at her side, bending over her, wrapping comforting arms around her and her children, asking her if she was alright, were the children alright and then asking someone else, in Portuguese, something about an ambulance. Molly needed to see to William. He was still unresponsive. Freddie had stopped howling and was just emitting the occasional shuddering sob. She half turned toward the older lady and pushed Freddie into her arms. He resisted for a moment, clinging to her, but then seemed to recognise Caro and allowed her to take him into her comforting embrace.
Molly leaned over and put her face close to William's, whispering,
'Come to Mummy, darling.'
She pushed her hands under his shoulders and lifted him up. As his body left the floor and made contact with hers, he seemed to melt, to dissolve, like ice in warm water, and he moulded his body to hers, curling into a foetal position, in her arms. One hand moved from the ear that was now pressed to her chest, and he thrust the thumb of that hand into his mouth, whilst the other hand relaxed and began to tug at his other ear lobe, just as he was wont to do as a tiny fractious baby, with an attack of colic. Molly rocked and shushed, as much to comfort herself as to comfort the boy, whilst Caro rubbed her back, gently, and hugged Freddie close.
The next hour passed in something of a blur. Several paramedics arrived, some to deal with Molly and the children and some to deal with the two bodies that lay – one on the landing and the other on the stair - where they had fallen, when Esteves shot them, one through the heart and the other in the head, as they burst through the fire door into the stair well. There was, indeed, a lot of blood. The concrete floor and stairs were slick with it and it ran off and dripped onto the stairs and landing below.
The paramedics took Molly and the children, along with Caro and Agent Esteves, through the fire door, onto the third floor corridor and along to the lift, which was now back in use, since the technician had prised out William's Rubik's Cube from the door groove. They were taken down to the hotel foyer and out to a waiting ambulance, where they were wrapped in silver survival blankets, treated for shock and whisked off to hospital. Agent Esteves rode shot gun and Caro followed in her car. This put Molly at something of a disadvantage, due to her lack of Portuguese, but there was only room for one escort and the agent insisted it be him. Fortunately, one of the paramedics spoke some English.
They were about half way to the hospital when Molly suddenly asked,
'Have they found Sherlock?' sitting up, sharply, as though suddenly awoken from a deep sleep, still holding William, who had screamed shrilly when they tried to take him from her. The paramedic shook her head and then addressed the enquiry to the agent.
'Vou tocar e ótimo para fora,' he replied and the paramedic interpreted as
'He will call and find out for you.'
Esteves took out his mobile and dialled.
ooOoo
The Covert Operations team had, quietly and surreptitiously, surrounded the abandoned racing yard. They were still some distance away and were advancing on foot from all directions, guided, via their ear pieces, by a spotter, who lay on top of a rocky outcrop, which gave an unimpeded view of the cluster of buildings, with the aid of a pair of high-powered binoculars.
So far, there had been no movement around any of the buildings but the spotter had caught a flash of sunlight, reflecting off something metallic and had concluded that there was a car parked under a lean-to and, since the sun had moved through its arc, it was now reflecting in one of the wing mirrors. The car was long, sleek and black, so fitted the description of the car they sought but the registration number was not visible from the spotter's position.
As the Federal Police personnel crept and crawled closer, through the undergrowth, the spotter gave them a clear and graphic description of the layout of the buildings, the position of windows and doors, the proximity of all the buildings to one another and the availability of cover, close to the complex itself. The hardest part would be advancing the last few yards, because the area immediately surrounding the farmstead was clear of all vegetation. They would have to rely on sightlines – avoiding those that gave onto windows and doors – and on the vigilance of the spotter to tell them whether anyone came out and started walking about.
The team was almost within striking distance when the spotter announced.
'We have company.'
Racing down the country road toward the ex-racing centre, leaving a huge cloud of dust in its wake, was a vehicle – a people carrier, seven-seater.
'Reinforcements, perhaps?' the spotter speculated. 'I'll let you all know when they get there. Just keep your heads down, ladies and gentlemen.'
The car sped straight up to the front of the farm house and skidded to a halt. Four males jumped from the vehicle and two males came out of the farm house. They stood in a loose group and there was what seemed like a heated conversation, with a good deal of arm waving and gesticulating, some gestures of frustration and a few instances of full body turning away and then back, as though everyone were very agitated. Then the group set off, led by one of the two from the farm house, round the side of the residential building, toward one of the barns. The second man from the house, hung back, as though reluctant to follow, though follow he did.
When they reached the barn, the first man and one of the newcomers went inside and all the others stayed outside. As the spotter continued to describe the scene to his colleagues, the two men emerged from the barn, dragging an object between them.
'Ok, the two Alphas are dragging a body. This may be the subject – the hostage. They are dragging him by his shoulders. He is prone, his head is unsupported, wrists bound behind his back, ankles bound, toes dragging on the ground. They are dragging him toward the bush. I think they intend to terminate him, if he is not terminated already. Situation critical. Repeat. Situation critical. Move in! Repeat. Move in!'
At that signal, all the agents broke into a run and advanced rapidly on the two groups of men – those still standing outside the barn and those dragging the body toward the bush. Four agents burst from cover, right in front of the two with the body, taking them completely by surprise. So much so, they dropped the body on the ground and tried to run back toward the other group of men, but they, too had been surprised by the sudden appearance of a large number of heavily armed CO operatives, and they quickly capitulated and lay flat on the ground, arms extended out, in the cruciform, as the Feds stood over them and trained guns on their backs.
One operative had stopped to examine the body and then a cool voice spoke in the spotter's ear.
'Subject alive – just. Request urgent medical assistance. Air ambulance. Tell them to step on it or he might not still be breathing when they get here.'
ooOoo
Esteves concluded his phone conversation, cut the connection and turned to Molly. He began to speak and she looked, urgently, from him to the paramedic, desperate for the news but dreading what it might hold.
'They have found your husband. They are bringing him to the hospital by Air Ambulance. His vital signs are poor,' the paramedic explained, bluntly but not unkindly.
Molly felt her skin go cold as a huge, invisible band tightened around her chest. She bit her lip and swallowed hard then whispered,
'Thank you.'
She looked down at William, still curled in her lap, eyes tight shut, thumb in mouth, then at Freddie, lying on the gurney, secured by a strap, wrapped in the silver blanket, eyes wide open and fixed on her face. She gave him a tight smile and reached out a hand, which he grasped, as the ambulance turned in to the hospital forecourt and pulled up in the ambulance bay.
ooOoo