Free Gray Salvation by Alan McDermott

thinking about for the last thirty minutes.
    ‘If I was back at the office, I’d have you surrounded by now. There are over eight thousand CCTV cameras covering Britain’s roads, taking over twenty-five million pictures a day, so our journey here will have been recorded. They’ll have helicopters up soon, and the entire area will be cordoned off. It’s over.’
    Scarface looked thoughtful. ‘You think they track our vehicles?’
    Harvey nodded. ‘Don’t be surprised if you get a knock on the door any minute now.’
    A smile appeared on the scarred face. ‘Then it was good idea to send cars to Scotland, no? Your people will be looking in wrong place, Andrew Harvey. When they find out drivers live here, we are already gone. Vanish.’
    For the first time, Harvey thought about the owners of the farm. They’d driven the Russians’ cars north? Why would English farmers be in league with Russian criminals? His puzzlement must have shown.
    Scarface laughed. ‘You think I am so stupid? You think this is my first mission in the field? No, we go soon, after Vasily practises on you.’
    The conversation was interrupted by a phone, and Vasily answered it. He listened for a moment, then gave the handset to Scarface. The conversation that followed was brief, and Scarface tossed the phone on the table.
    ‘Change of plan,’ Scarface said to Harvey, then spoke to the others in the room in Russian. Three of them disappeared and returned five minutes later with their bags, accompanied by three others who looked like they’d just woken up.
    Harvey assumed they’d be moving out immediately, but after gathering their belongings, the men simply sat around. Vasily dismantled his rifle and put it back in its case, while the newcomers helped themselves to the remainder of the soup.
    It gave Harvey a modicum of hope. The longer they waited, the better the chances of Ellis containing the area and sending in a rescue team. The silence dragged on for minutes, until a shout came from one of the men near the kitchen window.
    Scarface jumped up to take a look, then went to the door and opened it. Through the gap, Harvey could see two vehicles approaching – an estate car and a minibus. When they parked, two men climbed out of each vehicle and walked towards the building.
    Scarface had an automatic in his right hand, hidden behind his back. He challenged the four men, but when they responded he waved them inside. Three of the visitors were young, no more than teenagers, while the other looked to be in his fifties and wore a suit under his heavy overcoat. He was carrying a leather bag that looked to be of the kind doctors used when they travelled.
    ‘I’m going to prepare you for your journey,’ the older man told Harvey, setting his bag on the table. Unlike the others, this man was English. He reached inside the bag and produced a hypodermic needle, which he filled with a clear liquid from a small bottle. He barked some instructions, and Harvey watched four men head out to the car and open the trunk. They pulled out a large, rectangular box, about seven feet in length. One climbed into the back of the car and retrieved a green case. The items were brought inside and laid out on the floor.
    ‘What journey?’ Harvey asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘Where are we going?’
    A bead of sweat appeared on his brow and lazily meandered down between his eyes, which were focused on the needle in front of him.
    One of the men opened the box, and Harvey could see it was empty. As he looked at the box, the man with the needle slipped around behind him. He felt a sharp prick in his neck, followed by pain as a bolus entered his bloodstream. A bolus of what, exactly? he wondered. He turned to the English doctor to ask, but his tongue refused to obey his mental commands. His vision started to blur and he shook his head in an effort to counteract the drug, to little effect.
    The last thing he saw was the doctor opening the green case and