Dark Market

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Eight

Savage listened to the man breathe deeply. The woman in the bed next to him stirred, then rolled from her side onto her front. There was no direct light in the bedroom apart from the dull glow around the edge of the blackout curtains.

He crept silently around the room, feeling his way, not in the clumsy manner of a night time adventure to the bathroom. But with a purpose. Mapping out the landscape and features. If Henry, his mentor, had asked him afterwards he would be able to recreate every obstacle in the room, the distances between them, and any possible hiding spots.

He’d taught Savage well. If you want to enter your enemy’s camp, steal their secrets or locate their arms cache, then do it under their noses. Do it without them ever knowing.

There'd been a dog barking earlier. Savage had made it stop. The house had been easy to get into, the alarm easy to get around. He’d collected a boning knife from the kitchen.

Savage held it in his left hand now, phone in his right.

He pressed the blade down on the gangster's throat, then placed the phone face-up on his chest with the torch function on. The man stirred. Savage's hand clasped over his mouth, the knife dug in until it drew blood.

'Wake up,' Savage whispered.

The man struggled out of unconsciousness. His arms came up and Savage pressed the knife in further.

'Be still, be quiet, or your head comes off. I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth.' Savage picked up the phone and pressed play, the volume muted.

In the glare from the phone the gangster's sleepy eyes widened at the sight of his nephew. Savage made him watch it until the end. Then shone the light from the phone on his own face.

'Recognise me, Crystal?'

'Yes.'

'Here's the deal. There's audio to go with the video, your nephew talking about mummy and daddy. Family of yours I imagine. You send any more goons after me, this is all over the internet and in the mail boxes of your enemies. Understand?'

He stared impassively at Savage, then nodded.

'Armstrong’s family are mine now, you do not touch them ever or you'll never see me coming. You understand?' Another nod. 'Good, then we're done.'

Savage put the phone back in his pocket and removed a stinking cloth, soaked in chemicals, and held it by his side.

The gangster's nose wrinkled at the smell. He let out a small chuckle.

Savage took the bait. 'What?'

'This only works in films. In reality, when I wake up in the morning I'm going to find you and torture you until you tell me where the videos are.' His smug grin ate up the dark.

‘Then your nephew goes down regardless,' Savage said and held the cloth over the big man's mouth. He'd soaked it in home-made chloroform, a large amount to take down a large man. And it really wasn't like fiction. Savage held the knife against the big man, he thrashed for over a minute as the vapour took hold and he finally went limp.

The chloroform's effects would last several minutes more at most, Savage stood up to leave, then couldn't move. The knife, already edged with the gangster's blood, spoke to him in the dark.

End it now , it said. He’ll come for you. Kill him now.

It would be easy. He could even do it so that the man's wife didn’t wake up.