Wodgerwing Dorwian (aka Bike) Part 616 by Angharad

I switched the light back on and bent down to get my toothbrush out of my sports/overnight bag. Inside the pocket where I thought I’d put my toothbrush and paste was a small toolkit I take with me in case I need it on the bike. I rolled the cloth open and inside were allen keys, a shifting spanner, a handful of sockets and the bar to use with them, plus a mini screw driver with half a dozen different heads.

I pulled the curtain and looked at the lock on the shutters. It was one of those circular things like they have on the bottom of shop doors. I didn’t think I’d be able to pick it if I tried all night, and it was just too small for the smallest of my sockets. I cursed. I just didn’t know whose side these guys were on. Okay so they transferred us from normal police, but somehow their behaviour wasn’t quite what I’d expect from regular coppers.

I know, they might be special service police, but I was uncertain about that, too. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but felt uneasy about the whole set up. Why wouldn’t they tell me where we were? What difference did it make? All I could think of, was if I let it slip talking to Simon or Henry, and I’d have been careful with that.

No, there was something not quite right about it all. I sat on the bed looking at the shutters. Suddenly, I noticed something else about the shutters, smiled and jumped off the bed. The shutters were screwed to the walls, or to a frame on the walls.

I grabbed the screwdriver and fitted the appropriate bit; I set to and attacked the first screw. My hands were burning as I struggled with it, then with a final last effort, it began to move. Sweat was running down my back as I quickly undid the screw and lifted it out of the hole. Eleven more to go. I took a deep breath and continued my task.

Several had me sweating and struggling, and on one I had to wrestle with using the spanner as well–but, I loosened it. I put all the screws in a cup and then switching off the lights eased the edge of the shutter back from the wall and stepped between it and the window.

The window was an old fashioned sash type which meant I’d need to lift one section up or the other down. It was screwed shut. Yeah, I know. It took me another hour to release those, then I clicked the snib and the top section started to slide down, I only just caught it and on my blistered hands it hurt.

I jammed the screw driver into the frame and it held, then I peered out of the open window at our surroundings with the image intensifier. I could hear voices from below.

“Will Cameron fall for the ransom threat? I mean it’s not as if they’re family yet, is it?”

“The boss’ll be here tomorrow, he’ll decide. If he gives the word, I’ll do the adults, you can do the kids.”

“How come I get all the dirty jobs, I hate killing kids. Why can’t we let ‘em go after we kill Cameron and his son?”

“It’s a vendetta. Cameron ordered the extinction of the boss and all his family. He’s the only one left, Cameron and all his have got to die.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You’re not paid to like it, are you? You’re paid to do things. You weren’t too squeamish about those coppers we terminated when we borrowed their cars.”

“That’s different, that was the filth, they’d have killed me given the chance.”

“I reckon the bitch would, too.”

“Nah, she looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.”

“Them’s the ones you gotta watch. I tell you, if she thought you were gonna hurt her kids, she’d become a regular tigress.” I nodded at this statement. I did know, but what could I do? I had a knife, a penknife and a bow against four men with high tech automatic weapons. The only weapon I really had was surprise, and that would only work once. Even if I could have leant out of the window and got a clear shot at them, I might have hit one before the other shot me. Tom would never get the girls away, I had to survive and I had to get a message to Simon or Henry. Shit! What do I do?

The men moved on, I heard their footsteps walking away. I struggled to get the window back up and closed the snib. Then I pushed the shutter back in place and pulled the curtain over the missing screws. I was going to put them back, but now I decided that I might need quicker access.

If we had a rope, some sort of escape might be possible. Even my magic bag didn’t have one of those, but it did turn up an old pair of cycle mitts, which could prove useful.

I unlocked my door and crept along the corridor, Tom’s room was locked now and from the snoring that came from within, if I woke him up, I’d also bring unwanted attention. I explored what looked like a cupboard and my heart lifted. It was the linen cupboard. I helped myself to half a dozen sheets, then crept back to my room and locked the door.

I started making cloth ropes and it took me two hours. It was now three in the morning, I was yawning and felt sick with tiredness, but as it could well be my last night alive, I was trying to prepare. I’d only get one shot at this, I had to make it work.

After I’d tied about twenty feet of sheets together, I undid the screws on the other side of the shutter. Quick access was now possible. The gloves had helped there, if only I’d found them before. My hands were really stinging and I washed them and dabbed on a bit of antiseptic from my little first aid kit.

I would need to push the beds across the doors: I had to get the kids out first, then come back for Tom. Before that, I had to even the odds a bit. I slept for twenty minutes, my little alarm waking me. Any longer and I’d have gone right off. Twenty minutes refreshes you and gives you another four or five hours of alertness, adrenaline would do the rest.

At four I decided to start my offensive. I found the room where the woman slept and in five minutes I’d shoved some surgical tape from my first aid kit across her mouth and a couple of cable ties secured her arms and legs. I then dragged her on to the floor and rolled her up in a carpet.

Looking through the letter box in the front door I could see one of the guards. I looked around and found a full bottle of wine, I opened the door and whistled making a come hither sign with my hand. In the poor light he wouldn’t have known who was calling him–hence the whistle. I brained him with the bottle which amazingly didn’t break, but something in him did. He looked at me, then dropped like a stone.

I dragged him into the kitchen and after trussing him up with his own belt and clothing, I gagged him and left him lying in the larder. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to live or die. I had stopped thinking emotionally, this was survival stuff, and I should have stabbed him to make sure. Too late now. One down, three to go.

I grabbed the gun and found the safety catch, it was on. I flipped it off, if necessary, I would shoot whoever I met. In another downstairs room one of the men was asleep, I smashed the butt of the gun into his head. He gave a funny groan and I hit him again, he twitched and lay still, I hit him again. Then I was sick.