Private Oz (Private 7)

I felt my stomach flip, and for a second I froze.

Julie grabbed her around the neck, pulling her back. Greta stared at me, eyes wide, and screamed.

I took half a dozen steps toward them.

“YOU BETTER STOP!” Julie shouted.

I kept going.

“STOP …! I’ve got a very, very big knife ’ere. And the tip of it is just touching this whore’s spine.”

Greta screamed again.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” O’Connor hissed in Greta’s ear, then turned back to me.

“Let her go.”

Julie O’Connor laughed. “Oh, yeah!… Right! We have girl business to discuss. Don’t we?” She twisted Greta’s face round, her fingers digging into her cheeks.

I took another step forward. They were only thirty feet away now.

“STOP! I SAID STOP!”

I walked down two more steps.

“I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING STOP!”

Greta convulsed.

“Oh dear, there’s blood on her lovely running top!”

Greta’s face had drained. She was panting, eyes like black dishes.

I stopped. Put my hands up. Caught a glimpse of movement behind Greta and O’Connor. My cousin had appeared ten steps behind them, two officers with him, guns drawn.

“Look, can we talk?” I said.

Julie laughed again, a nasty rasp. “Why would I wanna talk? I have this bitch under my control. She’s mine … She’s mine. I can do what I want with her. Make her beg, make her squirm. She’s a whore … right? She gives it up for Brett. Mr. Big Policeman. She gives it up and she gets her Chanel, her Prada, her holidays on Hamilton Island. Two kids, and her husband might screw around on the quiet, but it’s a deal … right? What has this stupid bitch ever done for herself?”

“She’s a human being, Julie.”

Chapter 139

“THE KNIFE’S IN a bit further,” O’Connor bragged. She looked down. “Oh yeah … more blood.” She grinned.

Mark rushed forward.

Greta fell to one side, groaning as she hit the sandy path. I saw Julie swing to her left, her knife slicing the air, a hateful look on her face as she slipped off the path.

“You go round the top,” Mark said to me, quietly. “I’ll take the path.” He turned to his men. “Nichols … go back down to the beach and round. Taylor, stay with Mrs. Thorogood.”

I could see Greta wasn’t badly hurt, so I ran up the steps. Mark’s plan was a good one. Between us, we’d have the woman, I was sure of it.

Ten seconds later and I was at the top step, the parking lot ahead of me. I ran onto the sandy rectangle, skirted the edge, found the next path down to the beach and headed onto it. I guessed Mark would be about fifty yards below on an adjacent path.

I took the steps down two at a time, the stair treads even. Turned right, then left, another tight left. Drew up in the sand.

Mark was coming toward me along a sandy path. I caught a movement to my left. The O’Connor woman charged through the bush and smacked into him, knocking him off balance. He stumbled to his left, pistol flying from his hand.