Be Brave (22 page)

him. He had not met Freddie"s little girls and been aware of just how defenseless

and fragile children were. Who he was at his core was changing, and he did not like

it. He wanted to be a shark again. Sex, work, sleep, and food, in that order. Giving a

shit was for sissies.

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99

He responded quietly, “The sex slave I dragged that fucker off was nine years

old.”

Mattie"s hand flew to her mouth, and neither of them spoke as the dark road

swept past them and the lights of the motorway beckoned.

At the Channel Tunnel, they swapped seats and Kael drove them into London.

The sun was just coming up when he stopped at a Tube station in the already busy

London traffic. “Go home and sleep, Mattie. You did good work. My report will

indicate that.”

“Thank you, sir. I apologize again for the inappropriate remark I made.”

“I"m over it,” he said.

Behind them a horn blared. Kael didn"t respond, but Mattie looked over her

shoulder. “Everyone"s so impatient.” She paused. “Sir?”

“What?”

“How do you know the little girl won"t identify you to her captors?”

“I told her not to say anything.”
And I told her I’d come back for her
. But he

could not bear to say those words out loud because he had known at the time he was

lying. “She"s probably just grateful I got him out of there. Until the next one comes

along.”

“She must have known instinctively that you"re a nice bloke.”

“I am not a nice bloke, Mattie. I throw people over castle walls. That bastard in

the boot may be dead, and I don"t give a shit. And any minute now, I"m going to get

out of this car and take a smack at whoever is beeping their horn behind me.”

Mattie opened the door. She had one leg on the curb and her backside still in

the seat when she turned to look at him. “I think you"re a terrific bloke.” She got out

and closed the door.

Pulling into traffic, Kael dialed his mobile without looking at it. “I have the

package.” He closed the phone, and a moment later it rang and the digital voice

gave him the address of the safe house. Half an hour later, Kael stopped in front of

the house and got out, leaving the keys in the ignition.

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Fyn Alexander

Chapter Eleven

Despite exhaustion from being awake for twenty-four hours, Kael drove

straight to the Paris Gym. In the weight room, he sweated for two hours, clearing

his mind of everything but the exertion of pressing the weights. After Argentina he

had felt relieved his life was back on track. A job well done. This was the first time

he had returned from a job and been unable to put it from his head.

Without bothering to shower, he went home wet and stinking with sweat. In

the silence and perfect order of his flat, he showered, scrubbing the filth of slave

traders and human misery from his pores. Clean at last, he rolled into bed. Angel

had changed the sheets before he left for school, and they felt crisp and cool against

his skin, and smelled fresh. Pushing a button on the bedside console, he watched as

the blinds lowered, shutting out the world.

When he had left the flat thirty-six hours before, it was with a sense of

pleasure that he would do what he did best and return to Angel feeling renewed,

refreshed. Yet so close to home, so close to his boy, he had quite deliberately waited

until Angel left for the day, knowing he would be unable to act as if everything was

all right—because it wasn"t. He knew as well as anyone that children were

trafficked, but he had never before looked into their eyes. Never had he seen the

men who paid for them. Did caring about that little girl make him a better man and

a worse operative? And which was the superior thing to be?

In the restful semidarkness, Kael closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep for a long

time because when he woke up, he would feel refreshed and have a different

perspective on the situation. Exhaustion was affecting his mood and making him

question things he normally left alone. And he did not like it.

* * *

sleep. He looked at the clock—2:46 p.m.—as he grabbed the mobile and pressed it to

his ear. “What do you want, Conran?”

“What the hell did you do to Clement?” Conran asked.

“I kicked the shit out of him.”

“You left him outside the safe house in the boot of the car almost dead.”

Kael sat up. “I gave him a kicking. So what?”

“You were supposed to deliver him alive and unharmed. He claims you

dragged him out of the boot on a dark road and attacked him.”

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101

“Really? Did you ask Thornton about it?”

Conran"s voice was quiet when he replied, “You have a loyal follower in

Thornton. She claims she never saw you touch the man.”

Kael smiled. “She"ll go far. She"s good. Anyway, you said deliver him alive. You

didn"t say a thing about being unharmed.”

“You know perfectly well that"s what I meant. He"s supposed to testify

tomorrow. Instead he"s in hospital with five broken ribs and a punctured lung. Not

to mention your trademark broken nose. The hearing will have to be delayed. He"ll

be in hospital at least a week.”

Kael got up and wandered to the kitchen. He was starving, having eaten

nothing since breakfast the day before. “You"ve got him. He"s alive. And he"s lucky I

let him live. You said he liked young girls; you didn"t say little girls. I thought he

was into fourteen-year-olds, which is bad enough. The child I found him lying on top

of was nine years old. Did you know he liked them that young?”

There was a long silence before Conran said quietly, “Yes.”

“And this fucker is being paid big money by the government to testify. Money

he can go out and buy more kids with?”

“You have to look at the big picture,” Conran said. “His testimony is needed.

Do you know how many lives are lost every year from out-of-dates and untested

drugs? Anyway, when did you start caring about children? You threatened to kill

mine.”

It was true, he had. But he would never have done it. “I had no choice. I

needed you to protect Angel. I would never have harmed them.”

“I believed you.” Conran"s tone was resentful.

Kael opened the fridge and began to take food out, putting it on the counter.

“You gave me no choice. But that was then and this is now. We have to get that

little girl out of there.”

“There"s an operation already in progress. This kind of activity is dealt with by

the international policing agencies. It is not on our agenda. We"ll have to leave it to

them.”

“What"s their timeline?” He closed the fridge and went back to the bedroom,

where he took a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt from the wardrobe.

“I have no idea, but there"s nothing we can do. Anyway Dudek owns half a

dozen houses just in France. The child is probably moved around. God knows where

she is now. Was she blonde?”

Confused by the question, Kael took an instant to answer. “Yes.”

“Then she could be shipped to an Arab country at any time. She"s worth a

fortune. They like little blonde girls over there. This is none of our affair.”

Enraged at Conran"s casual dismissal, Kael said, “What if it was your little

girl, Annabelle?”

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Fyn Alexander

“Saunders, put her out of your head. You are an MI6 operative, not some

bloody vigilante.” Conran hung up.

* * *

cheese baking in the oven. He still hadn"t eaten, but he wanted to wait for Angel.

Sleep had helped calm him. Conran was right; there was nothing he could do about

Ekaterina. With Clement suddenly going missing, it was obvious he had been

picked up and forced back to England. Dudek wouldn"t know why, nor would he care

about Clement in particular, but he must be wondering who had seen the child and

how it would affect his business. She would have been moved.

Glancing at the clock on the microwave, he knew Angel would be home any

minute and his heart soared. He wanted his boy and to settle into the life he had

become accustomed to over the last six months: the domesticity Freddie has spoken

of last year and that Kael had decried as not for him at the time. Now it was

definitely for him.

At the sound of Angel"s key in the door, he strode into the hall. “Daddy!” Angel

screamed and climbed him like a tree, wrapping his arms and legs around him.

Kael hugged him tightly.

“Mr. Saunders?”

Penelope Chalmers stepped inside the door. Kael wanted to shove her out and

lock it. “Hello, Mrs. Chalmers.”

“Have you been cooking?” She looked surprised.

“Smells like mac and cheese to me.” Angel looked at him excitedly. “Daddy, did

you make it or buy it?”

“I made it.” He felt a bit shy admitting that he had actually cooked a meal.

“You cooked? Holy Julie and Julia.” Angel grinned, dropping his feet to the

floor. He took off his blazer and hung it in the cupboard.

“Go and set the table,” Kael said, wondering what the hell he was talking

about.
Julie and Julia
? He looked at his neighbor. “Would you excuse us, Mrs.

Chalmers? Angel is always hungry when he gets home from college, and it"s a rarity

for me to cook.”

“Yes, I got that impression.” She looked him up and down, reminding him of

one of those cartoon wolves that salivate when they see the three little pigs.

“He may look excited, but I suspect he"s nervous, wondering if it"s edible.” He

put his hand on the door, indicating that he wanted to close it.

“You look younger than you are, Mr. Saunders.”

Perplexed by the remark, Kael said, “Oh?” She could not know how old he was.

“Angel must be at least sixteen.”

“He"s eighteen. He"s in sixth-form college,” he said.

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103

“That makes you perhaps forty?” She smiled. “But you don"t look more than

thirty or so.”

Normally Kael told everyone who suggested otherwise that he was gay and

that Angel was his partner, but the woman annoyed him, and she was the type who

would gossip if he rejected her outright. It was probably best not to tell her

anything and simply act uninterested. She had to get the message eventually.

“That"s very flattering. Have a good evening.”

But she refused to take the hint and stood her ground just inside his door.

“Would you care to have dinner with me?”

Beginning to get that panicky, hunted feeling, he pretended not to understand.

“I"m going to have macaroni-cheese with Angel.”

“Yes, quite. I didn"t mean this evening. Perhaps tomorrow?”

That’s it, lady. You have to die or move, whichever comes first.

“You"re very kind. Please excuse me.” Kael took a step toward her, forcing her

to back out into the hall, and closed the door before she could say anything else.

“She totally has the hots for you,” Angel said when Kael walked into the

kitchen. He threw his arms around Kael"s waist, pressing his head into Kael"s chest.

Kael kissed the top of his head. Angel"s hair was growing long, and he no longer put

gel in it. It felt soft and clean, and it smelled wonderful. His sweet, boyish scent

filled Kael"s head, and for a moment he was overcome with fierce protectiveness.

Angel tilted his chin to look up at him. His beautiful silver eyes opened wide.

When he spoke, his voice was filled with emotion. “Daddy, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, boy.”

The macaroni-cheese wasn"t bad at all. Kael ate a decent plateful but couldn"t

even begin to compete with the amount Angel put away. The boy stopped every few

mouthfuls to say, “Daddy, this is so good. You are a chef.”

Kael laughed. “Yeah right. I didn"t even try to make a pudding. I bought

something.”

Angel removed the plates and leftovers. “Do you want more water, Daddy?”

“Yes, and look in the fridge.”

Angel opened it to find a Marks and Spencer trifle. “Yes!” he said and set about

serving it.

“That woman thinks you"re my son. She said I look good for my age because I

must be forty to have a son of eighteen.”

Angel laughed. “Did you tell her I"m your little slave boy?”

“Of course. I said you are my concubine and I fuck your arse for pleasure and

spank it as a duty every day.”

Angel burst out laughing.

After they had eaten, Angel cleaned up while Kael watched, and then they sat

on the couch in the living room and spent a couple of hours on Angel"s homework.

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Fyn Alexander

With Kael"s help, he completed a mathematics assignment and closed his laptop

with satisfaction.

“I"ll get a good mark on that. Thanks so much for your help, Daddy.” He looked