The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1684 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I followed Simon up the stairs and we skidded and slid on the broken glass and roof slates lining them. As we got to the top Ditchley was standing over James who was tied to a chair. Ditchley held a vicious looking knife with quite a large blade.

“Come any closer and he dies,” he snapped at us. We stopped and I videoed him on my Blackberry standing over James, whose face had received a beating by the look of things. I felt a combination of nausea through disgust and anger at this monster who could well stab James in the neck or heart before either Simon or I could do anything to stop him.

I had to distract him, get him away from James, where I could deal with him, or let Simon loose on him. This was partly why I was filming him. I knew he would want my phone or the memory card inside it. He could have either if he came and took it.

“Hey, bitch, stop that!” he called at me.

“You come and stop me,” I invited.

“I don’t have to, I’ll just make your little friend suffer, like this.” He pushed the knife point into James’ shoulder, causing him to groan through the gag. I saw fresh blood dribble down his arm.

“If you kill him, what is there to stop us rushing you?” I asked.

“I don’t care, once I’ve killed him, my only problem is deciding which of you to do first.”

“You couldn’t punch your way out of a paper bag,” I goaded him, still videoing him.

“I said stop that,” he jabbed James again. I felt sick and so angry, I was close to walking to him and kicking his head off.

“Come and make me,” I sounded like a ten year old boy.

He lifted the knife to stab James much harder and I flung my wheel brace at him. It caught him in the chest bouncing off with a clatter as it landed on the concrete floor. It caused him to step back and in that brief instant, Simon flung himself forward and slashed at Ditchley’s knife wielding hand while I ran and jumped onto James knocking the chair over and rolling away from his would be murderer.

Simon had missed and the two were engaged in a slashing match, which as long as Simon kept him at a distance he would win. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of this,” I said to James and he groaned in reply.

I had to leave my patient because Simon stepped on a particularly slippery part of the floor and fell as Ditchley slashed at him. The knife missed but only because Si fell, however, Ditchley was now standing on the end of the short piece of scaffolding which Simon had been holding. “Oh dear, not very good at this are we?”

“No, he isn’t, but I am.” I called at the maniac.

“Wait your turn, bitch, I’m gonna kill your partner first.”

Scooping up a lump of masonry I hurled it at his head catching him on the side of his face. He jumped backwards almost dropping the knife. He felt the small amount of blood which was dripping down his face. “For that, you’re gonna die, bitch.”

“Yeah, come and try it.” It was at this point I wished I’d worn brown trousers instead of jeans. He kicked Simon enough to keep him rolling about in pain and winded enough to make rising, difficult.

Ditchley turned to face me. The knife was brandished. I had no weapon, except my Blackberry. I started to walk away from him dialling 999 as I went. “Help, someone is trying to kill me,” I shouted down the phone, then slid it across the floor. They could trace it. “Help,” I screamed, “He’s got a knife.” Now all I had to do was keep out of his way long enough for the cavalry to get here.

“Nice try, bitch, but you’ll be dead long before they get here.”

“They’re not all as slow or corrupt as you were, dickhead.”

“I’m gonna enjoy this.” He advanced towards me. I backed away from the stairs, which I hoped he would think was a mistake. I’d only get one chance at this and if I got it wrong, we’d all die–no pressure then–and I’ve got nice pair of needle-cord brown trousers, why didn’t I wear them today?

He moved the knife from hand to hand, then he slashed just to make me step back further away from the stairs. Now, I had a wall maybe ten feet at most behind me. I couldn’t go much further.

I turned as if to run and he lunged after me, and my luck nearly held, I back kicked and caught him in the chest but the tip of the knife caught my lower leg. He fell backwards and I came forwards. I could feel pain and wet on my leg. He jumped up almost as quickly as he went down, and I sprang into a forward somersaulted and delivered a kick to his midriff with both feet. This time he flew backwards disappearing down the stairs yelling as he went. I got up, my leg was really hurting, “Send an ambulance as well, we have three casualties,” I shouted at my phone.

The first priority was securing the area, so while I so wanted to help and comfort Simon and James, I needed to make sure Ditchley was no further threat. I picked up the length of scaffolding pole and hoped I could remember the few lessons I got from a kid in school about fencing.

I limped down the steps, Ditchley wasn’t at the bottom, damn, he was still mobile and still had the knife. His friend was still tied up, so where was he?

I ran down the last few steps, despite the pain in my leg, and rushed into the middle of the space, turning round to see where he was. I couldn’t see him. I called him, “Come on out and fight like the pansy you are, Ditchley. You like beating up girls, don’t you? Well this one won’t be such a pushover.”

I was absolutely shitting myself as I limped round the warehouse trying to locate my opponent. I heard sirens approaching. My leg hurt abominably and the leg of my jeans was now soaked in blood, which was also filling my shoe.

Car doors slammed and I knew the police were here. Just a few minutes more and I was safe. Perhaps I relaxed, I don’t know, but a moment later he grabbed me from behind just as a copper burst into the building. I felt the knife at my throat. “Stop or she dies.”

The copper lowered his pistol.

My head was swimming, I was going to faint, I needed to do something, one last effort. I opened my legs and swung the pole back between them catching Ditchley in his groin. He momentarily let go and I dropped to the ground things fading into a dreamlike state. I heard the crack of the gun, amplified by the bare walls. Then another and things went black.

I don’t know what happened after that, except by what the police told me. I think we all ended up in hospital and my Blackberry in police custody. I had two stitches in my leg, James had several in various parts of his body, and Simon broke the same bone in his hand as well as suffering some badly bruised ribs.

Thug number one, was lucky. Apart from a mild concussion and bruising he was well enough to be charged with abduction and false imprisonment. Ditchley was shot dead by the armed response officer, so the police finally gave him what he deserved, they fired him. As for Kite, well that’s a different story.

He drove off and although I suspect his car felt funny, he tried to cross a busy junction and one of his front wheels came off. He was hit by an articulated lorry which slammed his car into the path of another truck. He was pronounced dead at the scene after they cut his body from the remains of his car.

The unravelling of his sordid little empire is still ongoing, but the police have claimed that they will have recovered at least a million pounds of money extorted from his victims plus they have arrested a dozen thugs who were pushing drugs or abusing people. All in all things worked out quite well, all because a group of teenage delinquents hassled me at our local takeaway.

One could say, they had their chips.