Having secured Kent, Mac sets out north towards Nottingham then cuts off in an easterly direction. He drives for an hour and a half, taking his time, then pulls into quiet lay-by. He calls Klugman who has settled the hotel bill and is on his way south.
"The things I do for you, Mac," Klugman grumbles. "The manager was very sniffy about his bath - even threatened to call the police. He took some persuading."
"Mr Klugman, I can't say how grateful I am," Mac says sincerely. "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been there. I owe you big time."
"Nonsense, boy. Nonsense." Klugman laughs. "To tell you the truth I'm having a whale of a time. And what the hell, it's only money. Scared the shit out of me with that pistol, though. So where are you and what's your plan?"
"Near Kettering. I don't have much of a plan yet. I need to lie low. I can't keep driving around the country with Kent and the girls - they're too visible for a start."
Klugman chuckles. "So I'd noticed. They're a couple of corkers, aren't they? Anyway there's no problem with a hideout. Come to my place. I've a house outside London - your side, too. It's pretty secure and no-one'll think of looking for you there."
A sense of relief washes over Mac. "You sure?"
"Couldn't be surer."
"In that case I accept with gratitude."
He gets directions and hangs up.
"We've got a hide-out," he announces. "A quiet little place in the country."
It takes a moment for the girls to get the joke and they smile feebly.
He suggests the girls avail themselves of the nearby bushes for he intends to drive straight to Klugman's without a break. They are none too enthusiastic. Kent wants to go too and Mac stands over him with drawn gun. Kent is probably too scared to make a break for it but he is on the verge of panic and Mac is well aware that people can do strange things in panic.
They reach Klugman's place without incident. It is surrounded by a high wall with a wire fence on top. Mac reckons it's electrified. Security cameras are fixed at intervals along the top of the wall. Mac thinks this is sloppy as they are quite visible and could be easily knocked out until he realises that every camera has another in its field of view and revises his opinion. At a break in the wall are huge gates which are electronically locked and have video cameras looking down from either side. He presses the bell and announces himself to the entry phone. The gates hum open.
From the inside, the walls are masked by rows of trees and bushes although there is an open space between them and the wall. Beyond the trees, the grounds open up into a vast and beautifully maintained garden with manicured lawns and pristine flower beds. The girls are thrilled; this is the life-style to which they are accustomed. Mac has mixed emotions - they are far too grand for his tastes but he has to admit it is very pleasant and, more importantly, very secure. Perhaps, at last, he can relax.
Klugman meets at the top of the grand steps. He shakes Mac's hand vigorously, bows to the girls and kisses their hands. They blush, flattered at his gallantry. Klugman is all effusive bonhomie.
The house is huge, with high ceilings, wood panelling, deep carpets, parquet flooring and ornate chandeliers everywhere they look. Aranya and Sunita clap their hands in glee. They want to run off and explore and Klugman indulges them with a smile. They are entranced by the ornate splendour of the house. The more observant Mac notices the security cameras, the electronically protected windows and the heavy doors and nods approvingly.
It is not long before they return with dismay writ large on their faces. They have discovered their rooms and they are upset that Mac is in a different part of the house. They plead with Klugman to move either Mac or them. Either way they won't feel safe unless he is nearby. With a shrug, Klugman calls a servant and rearranges the accommodation. Overjoyed, the girls kiss his cheeks. He exchanges glances with Mac who just shrugs and grins ruefully.
"So what do we do with friend Kent?"
"Keep him locked up and under surveillance. He may be a turd but he's still their father."
"I know the very place." Klugman's grin is lupine.
The change in Kent is dramatic. He appears to have aged and shrunk. His eyes have a haunted look and he cringes as he is escorted past the group. He is unable to meet his daughters' eyes. His passing leaves an uncomfortable silence.
"Food in an hour," announces Klugman, breaking the mood.
In his large and uncomfortably comfortable quarters, Mac steeps in the bath. The hot water and steam seep into his pores relaxing his tense muscles. He realises then just how stressed he's been. He has been in stressful situations before, many considerably more dangerous but he cannot remember ever feeling so wound up as he is now. It dawns on him that, this time, he is emotionally involved - something he vowed would never happen. He is no longer a professional simply doing the job he's been paid for but a human being trying to protect those he loves. Yes, he might as well admit it, he is in love with them - both of them. Or is it that he loves them? Mac is not familiar with love and its aspects. He is having difficulty in sorting this out.
He shelves his thoughts for future consideration and turns his attention to Klugman. The man is an enigma. On the surface the picture of gentlemanly hospitality but, under the surface, lies a ruthless and dynamic business tycoon. What is his angle? Why is he involving himself in his, Mac's, problems? He gives a mental shrug. No doubt all will become clear in due course. In the meantime his instinct tells him that Klugman is genuine.
He shivers and suddenly realises that his bath has gone cold. Hastily, he dresses and makes his way to what Klugman calls the family dining room. The others already gathered and Klugman makes a crack about sending out a search party. They tuck in to excellent meal of baked fish and white wine, Klugman himself doing the honours.
After, they retire to small, in relative terms, sitting room and spread themselves out among the various chairs and settees. Klugman starts the ball rolling.
"Okay, Mac, where do we go from here?"
Mac thinks for a moment. "Can I be blunt?" he asks.
"Surely," Klugman says.
"What do you get out of this?"
"Nothing at all, dear boy. Nothing at all," Klugman booms.
Mac regards him steadily. "Now, without the bullshit."
Klugman looks at Mac. Mac looks right back.
"No bullshit," Klugman says in quieter tone. "Nothing. I'm a financier and a damn good one. I make lots of money. If I'm honest, I've got more money than I know what to do with. So why do I want to help you?" He looks Mac straight in the eye and says, "You."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Look, I deal with all sorts of people and one of my skills is an ability to see through bullshit. You've got it too. You impressed me first time we met. You were direct, professional, discreet. So I put this job your way." He shrugs. "In a way I feel partly responsible for this mess. That's the first reason.
"Then there was the way you handled yourself in the hotel. Scared the shit out of me at first. Thought you were some sort of madman. Then I began to see you had it all planned out. The gun, the jackets. You knew something was wrong and found out what it was. We might all be dead, or worse, if it wasn't for you. So, secondly - meticulous planning.
"Then when Kent went berserk you dealt with him with minimum fuss and violence and maximum efficiency. Then you organised the whole escape, again with minimum fuss and maximum efficiency." He was ticking off points on his fingers. "So, thirdly - adaptable."
"What really sealed it was your attitude to the girls - and it wasn't until I was driving back that I realised it. No matter what was happening your first concern was their safety. What happened to you, to me, was secondary to the need to protect them."
Mac feels himself reddening and is more than half wishing he hadn't asked. He certainly hadn't expected this peon of praise.
"It's my job," he mutters. "What I was paid to do."
Klugman taps the side of his nose. "Bullshit detector. You did it out of love, not for money."
Mac knows his face is burning. This is far too close to the truth for his liking. Klugman wasn't boasting when he said he could see through to the heart of a person.
Suddenly Klugman laughs, a loud and booming sound. "And lastly because, once I got over my fright, I realised I was enjoying myself immensely. I've never played cops and robbers before."
He slaps Mac on the back.
Mac grins. "It's not all its cracked up to be, believe me."
Klugman sobers. "There's one other reason if I needed it," he says quietly and sincerely. "Anyone who would sell his own daughters into slavery doesn't deserve to be on the fucking planet."
Throughout this oration, the girls have been listening with wide eyes and open mouths. Aranya starts to speak but Sunita nudges her sharply and she closes her mouth with a snap.
"Okay", Klugman says, "I've said my piece. You have my full support and that of my organisation. For what it's worth, this piece of shit," he nods at Kent, "isn't worth anything - but the girls are. It's your show Mac. What are you going to do?"
Mac looks at him, genuinely moved. To meet with such open-handed generosity is almost unheard of in his line of business.
He grins sheepishly and says, "I'm not a great one for long speeches bit as it's the season for true confessions I'd better do mine. Firstly, thank you, Mr Klugman, for your honesty and generosity."
He turns to girls. "And I should thank you, too. If you hadn't trusted me and supported me we wouldn't be sitting here, today." They blush furiously. "I also want to say how sorry I am that you've both had to go through all this. You've both had to do an awful lot of growing up over the last wee while. I think you've coped marvellously." He throws a look of utter contempt at Kent who shrinks back from his gaze as if struck.
"As to what to do - I don't know. This is too big for me to handle. But something needs to be done. We've got extortion, attempted blackmail and attempted kidnapping - possibly a whole lot more. We could go to the police but they're too public. A bunch of boys in blue stampeding through here will bring the press like bees to a honey pot. No, we need discretion." He pauses for a moment in thought. "I wonder… I met this fellow several years ago who was vaguely attached to one of the security services. Perhaps he'd know who to speak to. Trouble is I don't know how to contact him."
"No problem," Klugman says. "Give me his name I'll have him traced."
He goes off to phone leaving them alone.
There is an awkward silence then Aranya says, "Mac, can I ask you something? When did you first suspect something was wrong?"
Mac grins at her, "I knew you were trouble the moment I set eyes on you," he says and laughs at her indignant expression. "To be honest I didn't actually suspect anything until we found that tracking device. But I had this sort of nagging feeling the moment we saw the house."
The girls gasp in surprise.
"Then? But we'd only just arrived. What was wrong?' Aranya says.
"I thought it was a nice house," Sunita adds.
"Hrumph," Mac snorts. "That's not what you said at the time." Sunita has the grace to blush. "What bothered me was that it was obviously a safe house and I wondered how your father had managed to rent it."
"A safe house? What's that?"
"A safe house is a place that people can go when in hiding. Spies use them to hide defectors. Criminal gangs use them to hide from the law - or to hide kidnap victims. That sort of thing."
"How did you know it was a safe house?"
"Think about it. It's in the middle of nowhere. It's securely located. It's very well appointed - fridge, freezer, all mod cons. It was well stocked with food and drink - enough for several weeks. Not the sort of set-up for a holiday home. Holiday homes are used week after week and always look, well… used. People who own them don't put bottles of brandy in the drinks cabinet and frozen trout in the freezer. And, anyway, who would want to spend holiday there with no facilities, no entertainment, no views, no activities? No, it had to be a safe house. The question is, who rented it to your father?"
Aranya suddenly gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. "You mean… they might have known where we were all along?"
Mac realises he has been too frank and is in danger of scaring them even more.
He shrugs. "I don't know for certain. But as it took them a week to make their move, I'm fairly certain not. Anyway, that's over and done with. We got out safely so it doesn't really matter whether they knew or not, does it?"
She looks at him solemnly. "I'm beginning to realise that we owe you an awful lot. In fact I suspect that we owe you even more than I realise, if that makes sense.'
Mac grins at her. "Shucks, lady, just doin' ma job," he drawls in a mock western accent.
However she continues to regard him with a thoughtful expression.
From the corner Kent groans, the sound of a man lost to the world. They turn to him.
"I've just realised what an awful fool I've been," he says. "A safe house. Of course. It just seemed such a good idea and so providential that it was available when I needed it. Oh, God." He puts his head in his hands. "I tried to protect myself and everything I valued and now I've lost it. Lost everything. Lost it all. Even you." He raises his head and looks mournfully at his daughters. "Haven't I?"
Sunita makes a small move towards him then sinks back. Aranya just regards him with a stony face. Mac feels guilty to be party to a family break-up even though, rationally, he knows that this family was fragmenting long before the current crisis. Still, his heart goes out to the girls having the weaknesses of their father so brutally and abruptly exposed.
Klugman bustles back, breaking the tension. "Okay. Should have traced your man in a few hours."
"Good," Mac says. "I feel like stretching my legs. That okay?"
Klugman claps him on the shoulder. "Hell, yes. I'll join you if I may. And, by the way, the name is Jack."
"I think we'll go to our room," Aranya says in a small quiet voice.
They leave Kent alone with only Klugman's watchful minder for company. Klugman and Mac stroll out into garden.
Klugman, a connoisseur of women, says with a nudge and a wink, "That's a couple of hot girls, there."
Mac gives him with a look that would shrivel stone.
Klugman starts back. "Hells bells, you really care for them don't you?'
"Yes," Mac says quietly. "I shouldn't. I can't afford to. But I do."
"I wouldn't let money stop you," Klugman says, then stops. "Oh, you mean… Oh. Right. Well…'
It isn't often that Jack Klugman is to be found at a loss for words.
Perhaps it is measure of Mac's tiredness or of the security he feels in Klugman's house but he does not stir when his door opens and two figures are briefly silhouetted in the light from hallway. However, instinct and years of training take over when the figures clamber onto his bed.
He is dimly aware of female shrieks and small fists pounding at him but it takes long seconds for his groggy brain to realise that he recognises the voices. With mounting horror he becomes aware he has Sunita immobilised and is slowly strangling Aranya.
He immediately lets go and cries, "My God, what have I done? What are you doing? I'm sorry. Oh, shit, I'm sorry."
Aranya has fainted and Sunita, being released so suddenly, tumbles from the bed onto the floor. Instantly he changes from aggression to protection. He checks Aranya's pulse, his heart pounding so hard he is barely able to focus. Finding she is still alive, he dashes to the bathroom to get a cold cloth with which he tenderly bathes her forehead. She draws a shuddering breath and opens her eyes.
"That wasn't nice," she says reaching up and wincing as she rubs her sore neck.
Mac is alternating between anger and concern. "Are you okay? I'm sorry for hurting you but you shouldn't creep up on me like that. What were you doing, anyway?"
He lays the cold cloth on her neck. He knows exactly where she is hurt and exactly how near he was to killing her.
Sunita has climbed back on the bed and is rubbing her shoulder.
Mac looks at her. "Are you okay?"
She nods. "Surprised mostly. You're fast. You were sound asleep."
Mac gives an anxious half-grin. "Product of too many nervous nights. My fault. I should have heard you coming into the room."
He turns back to Aranya who is struggling to sit up. He gently helps her, propping pillows behind her back.
"You're trembling," she says in astonishment.
"I nearly killed you."
"But you didn't."
"You don't understand. I nearly killed you." His voice is harsh.
She looks puzzled. "You said that already."
He takes a deep ragged breath in an attempt to calm himself. 'They don't understand,' he thinks, 'They can't understand.'
"I need a drink," he says and fetches three brandies.
They sit on the bed propped up against the pillows with Mac in middle. He suddenly realises they are stark naked.
"So, why were you skulking in my room with no clothes on?" he asks.
"We were…" Aranya begins.
"We wanted to thank you," says Sunita.
"Yes. For everything you've done for us," adds Aranya. "We've come to realise that we're here, safe and sound, only because of you."
"And so we wanted to thank you."
"And because…" her voice is barely a whisper. "Because… just because."
There is silence for a long, poignant moment.
"And so you thought you'd creep into my room in the middle of the night and what?" he says gently.
"We were… we were going to make love to you." Aranya's voice is barely above a husky whisper. She looks close to tears. Sunita has buried her face in her hands. "And then… and then you went and spoiled it."
For answer Mac slips his arms round the girls' shoulders and hugs them close.
"For that I am truly sorry," he says with a sigh. "You weren't to know how I'd react. And I thank you for your thought. I am very flattered." He holds the two tightly for a moment. "But you didn't need to, you know. Thank me, that is. When the chips were down in the hotel you did very well. You did everything exactly as I said. It's wrong, I know, but I've grown rather fond of you two spoilt brats."
"You don't hate us then?" says Aranya in a squeaky voice.
He glances down at her to see her looking up at him with a strange expression on her face. "No." He plants a little kiss on her forehead. "I don't hate you at all. I never did. I just didn't like you very much at first."
"But you do now?' says Sunita.
He gives a deep sigh. "Yes, so help me, I do. I shouldn't but I find I've come to care for you very much."
"I'm glad because we care for you very much, too," she says in a small voice.
He hugs them and feels very close to them for a moment. They have shared much in the last week. He finds it difficult to sort out his feelings for them. He lusts after them, of that there is no doubt. They are young, beautiful, exotic, desirable. But he has also come to love them as people - their liveliness, their bravery, their loyalty. More than that he has come to love them as if they were daughters - their pain is his pain, their triumphs are his triumphs.
Now, here, tonight all his fantasies have come true. They have come willingly, even eagerly, to offer themselves to him. Out of gratitude possibly but…
In his time Mac has faced many difficult situations; made many hard decisions. He has killed, betrayed, made sacrifices and been sacrificed. In his time he has even been brave. But tonight he is faced with the hardest decision he has ever made in his life. And tonight he does the bravest thing he has ever done. 'Powers that be,' he prays, 'let me not be found wanting.'
He gently disengages his arms and looks at them closely for a long while, as if fixing their images in his mind.
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart," he says at last in a voice so soft and gentle they can hardly believe it's his. "I will always treasure this moment for as along as I live. But now you must go back to bed."
The girls reactions go from disbelief to astonishment to hurt and anger.
"You don't want us? You don't like us?"
"I love you more than I can say and I want you more than you'll ever know - but I'm not going to do it."
"Why not? What's wrong?"
Mac sighs. "Nothing's wrong. It just wouldn't be right. Please… just go back to bed."
"But…"
The look of hurt and rejection on their faces is almost more than he can stand.
"Go. Please just go," he is harsh. "Some day… perhaps… you'll understand. Go."
Their eyes blinded by tears, the pair stumble from the room, fleeing from his hurt and his rejection. As she pauses briefly, Aranya is sure she can hear the sound of sobbing from behind the closed door.