There's a crackle on the radio. “Hey, Des, you at Blessingmoors yet?”
“No, I’m just pulling up there now. Looks like there’s something going on. Every light in the place is on.”
“Hold on that kid, would you. Bring him back to the station.”
“Yeah, sure if you want, but why?”
“I'll tell you when you get back. And on your way, call by a takeaway if you can find one open, and pick up a couple of dozen pizzas.”
*****
James
None of us speaks through our journey. We know what we’re doing, what our intentions are.
And this time, it is almost certainly a question of rescue. What are the chances of Charlotte escaping again? Resourceful though she is….
A worry nags at me. I lean back to Richard in the rear seat. “We are sure this is the right place we’re going?”
“Will said that the gunman was anxious to ‘be helpful’,” he replies. “He knows he’s up for twenty to life. It’s a question of how comfortable he’s going to be for most of the rest of his future. He insisted apparently, that if the underground hideouts are off the menu, this is where they would take the women.”
I suppose I have to be satisfied with that for now. In any case, we’ll soon know.
Would Charlotte and Beth’s abductors choose something so close out of bravado? To throw us off by misdirection? Thumbing their noses at us? A last ‘fuck-you’ parting shot? Could the gunman taken from the hotel fire have even been sure that….
I’m over-thinking it.
Perhaps we simply got lucky. Richard chose our particular hotel as a hideaway because it is out in the wilds. Perhaps Klempner would choose our destination for the same reason….
We take only a few minutes to make the journey. I navigate using a satellite view of the area, taking us up a back-trail where we should be able to approach unseen.
“Okay, this should do.”
Michael grunts and pulls in.
“How long a walk have we got?” asks Richard.
“Just a few hundred yards as the crow flies, but we’ll be working our way through the trees in the dark, so watch your footing.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve done this, James,” mutters Michael.
“True, but then you were running. This time we’re going to take them.”
And he shows his teeth in the smile of a predator.
*****
“Let me get another look at that layout.”
it’s the last time. I don’t think we can risk
the three-inch screen of the phone, zooming in on the satellite view of the
derelict building. Unless it’s been bricked up, we should be able to go through. If we go in there, we’ll be able to
standard enough, a large rambling old house with sheds, barns and shippons outside set around
boarded over. It’s hard to see detail in the dark but the
like we’re at the
if I can see the women and get a head count.
I lay a hand on his arm. “No, I’ll go,” I
you? I’m younger.
blond. You’ll be much more visible if the light catches you. I
and lurk back there then.” He tosses his head back
“You do that.”
shadows, as stealthily as I can, I approach the house. Regardless of my words to Michael, I am acutely conscious
incident, sliding an eye
No sign of
Damn…
Where are they?
can see is a group of
Corby?
No….
None of
takes his jacket off, I see a gun holster underneath and
of
All armed?
laughing and joking. Some drink from cans of beer. One, tall, fair-haired, moves into view, looking to be
Klempner?
face in
Yes, Klempner
to finish you, you
stands, leaning back against a table
floor, probably originally the kitchen to the farmhouse.
seen as much as I
Time to go….
the others, the front door, only feet away
Christ…
pounding through my skull, my own heartbeat loud in
man, also wearing a gun holster, steps out, his back to me, walking in the opposite direction to a shed. He enters the shed and as he vanishes behind the door I sprint for the shelter of the barn. Two pairs of hands reach out, hauling me under cover just as the
take a moment to catch my breath and for
asks Richard, a gleam
much, no,”
you see them?” asks
counted five men in the room, including Klempner. They’re armed with guns and there
I’m still panting.
asks Michael, concern in his
look through the other windows.
my words
and Charlotte bursts out, running pell-mell, scanning around