Simon Kernick - Ultimatum

07.25

His whole world collapsed exactly three seconds after the door opened.

In the first second, her pale, beautiful face peered through the gap, then disappeared as she moved aside to let him in. The next second saw him walking into the cramped front room and, with a rather foolish flourish, lifting up the small bunch of petrol station flowers hed brought her. And the third was when the man in the hood appeared out of the shadows to his left and pointed a gun at his head while Mika closed the door, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

Whats going on? asked Akhtar Mohammed in a voice several octaves higher than usual. Take my money, but-

Sit down and shut your mouth.

Akhtar stole a glance at Mika his beloved Mika. She was standing in the middle of the room in just a nightdress, her pale skin almost translucent in the dim light, her face set fast in an expression of pure fear. Tears ran down her cheeks and Akhtar wanted to reach out and hold her, tell her that everything was all right, but the gunman grabbed him roughly by the back of his shirt and shoved him towards the nearest chair.

I said, sit down.

Akhtar stumbled into the seat and turned to his assailant, putting his hands in the air so that the other man knew he wasnt going to do anything stupid. He was neither a brave man nor a foolhardy one, and he was fully aware that the only way he was going to get out of here was by cooperating.

The gunman stepped towards him and pushed the barrel of the gun against the side of his head. It felt cold and hard, and Akhtar swallowed. Was this some kind of divine punishment for his adultery? If it was, then he prayed God would be merciful. Hed never intended to hurt his wife or his children, nor to bring shame down on his familys head.

I dont want any trouble, he said, conscious of the fear in his voice.

Im going to give you a task, Mr Mohammed, answered the gunman in a tone that was worryingly calm.

His accent was English, so Akhtar knew he wasnt Mikas pimp. So who on earth was he? And how did he know who he was? Even Mika didnt know his last name.

If you carry it out as instructed, youll be free to go and youll never hear from me again. If you fail to do what youre told, however, I will kill your girlfriend here. Slowly, and very painfully.

Mika gasped. She was still standing in the middle of the room, unmoving, and Akhtar wondered why she didnt try to escape. Then he saw the restraints round each of her ankles, separated by barely a foot of thick chain, and he realized she was as helpless as he was. He gave her a small, hopeful smile and she stared back at him with those big oval eyes of hers that had so bewitched him in the first place, and he wished by all that was holy that hed never met her.

And just in case Mika dying slowly isnt enough to motivate you, continued the gunman, still keeping the gun pushed down on Akhtars head, theres this.

He held out a remote control and switched on the TV. For a couple of seconds the screen was blank and then an image of two people having sex on an unmade bed appeared the woman on all fours facing the camera, the man kneeling behind her, his eyes closed. The gunman pressed another button and the couple began moving frantically on the screen, their joyful moans filling the room.

Akhtar cringed as he recognized himself. Had Mika set this all up? Had she hidden a camera when theyd been making love? He looked up at her and she shook her head silently. This was nothing to do with her.

The gunman switched off the TV and the room fell quiet once again. I have more than an hour of footage taken on three separate occasions, showing you in various acts with Miss Donovic here, all of them as explicit as this. Some of them even more so. The gunman chuckled. But then you knew that, didnt you? If you dont carry out the task, Ill have copies of the footage delivered to your wife, your mother, and the imam at your mosque. He calmly reeled off the names of all three, and the addresses to which the copies would be sent. All of them were correct.

Akhtar felt his breathing increase and he began to tremble. If this happened, his life would be finished. No one would forgive him for such a rank betrayal of everything his community held dear. Hed be shunned. Exiled. Worst of all, his children would grow up knowing the terrible, sordid sins hed committed.

What do you want me to do? he whispered.

Its a very simple job that will take you less than an hour. Youre to deliver that he pointed to a plain black backpack sitting on the floor next to the fleabitten sofa to the address on the contacts section of this phone. He dropped a BlackBerry into Akhtars lap. Its a twenty-minute drive from here, half an hour if the traffics bad. You need to be there for eight a.m., and I know youve got a TomTom in your car, so if you leave now youll make it on time. Park right outside, then as soon as youre ready to go in, call me immediately. Do you understand?

Akhtar nodded. He had no idea how this man knew so much about him, but the fact that he did made it imperative that he did what he was told. Then perhaps he could emerge from this nightmare unscathed and go back to living his life again. He would miss Mika God, he would miss her but in the end it would be a very small price to pay.

The gunman lowered his weapon and took a step backwards, motioning for Akhtar to get to his feet.

Pocketing the BlackBerry without even checking the address, he grabbed the backpack and hauled it over one shoulder, surprised at its weight. He wondered what was inside. Initially hed thought it would be drugs, but it was far too heavy for that.

The gunman seemed to read his thoughts. Under no circumstances look inside that bag, Mr Mohammed. However tempted you are. Because if I find out you have and I will find out then our agreements void, and Ill carry out my threat.

The gunman stepped aside and Akhtar walked past him. He glanced briefly at Mika, and she gave him a hopeful look back.

Please do what he says, she whispered. He means it.

I will, said Akhtar, opening the door and stepping out into the gloom. I promise.

But not for you, he thought. For me.

08.00

Martha Crossman opened the door to her local coffee shop and stepped inside.

The place was busy with the pre-work crowd mainly businesspeople and a powerful blast of coffee, conversation and central heating hit her straight away. The normality of the scene filled her with an intense jealousy. When Martha had last been here a few days ago, her life had seemed so normal and straightforward. Not happy she hadnt been happy for a long time but at least back then she hadnt been burdened by the secret she was now carrying.

She took a deep breath. She wanted to throw up. To run out of the cafe, find a cold, quiet spot where no one could see her, and vomit up the few scrappy contents of her stomach. If it wasnt for her daughter, shed end it all. There was no question. What had happened what shed found out was so devastating that, in one single stroke, it had destroyed her will to live. But Lucy dear, beautiful Lucy was what kept her going.

That, and the need for justice to be done.

The man she was meeting, Philip Wright, was already there, sitting in a booth in the far corner next to the gleaming silver coffee machines on the counter, facing the door, with a large cup of coffee in front of him. She recognized him from the photos straight away, and it was clear he recognized her too. He gave a small nod, and she tried a smile in return as she walked over.

Mrs Crossman, its good to meet you, he said, getting up from his seat and shaking her hand. He was a big man in his early sixties, and his grip was firm.