The Fourth Option

by Matt Hilton

  ‘Things don’t have to be tough on you,’ said Vince, and her gaze snapped to his.

  She said nothing, but he noted how she steeled her shoulders. It wouldn’t help her.

  ‘All you have to do is tell me where to find your boyfriend, and this can all end.’ Vince had discarded his ball cap. Locks of his hair, often slicked up and back in a rockabilly pompadour had fallen loose and hung over his eyes. He liked the look, it added to his rakishness. ‘C’mon, Sue, tell me where to find him and I promise you won’t be hurt again.’

  Sue clenched her fists, and gnashed her teeth against the pain in her joints. Her forearms were strategically secured horizontally on the armrests, in order that her captors could easily work on her hands. Earlier, Vince had Wayne Davis wrench back each of her fingers in turn almost to the point of dislocation. Davis might look like a sweet boy, but he’d the nasty penchant of a sadist for inflicting pain. She’d resisted that torment, so now Vince preferred to up his game, and use a method more likely to get results.

  Vince cocked his head on one side, peering down at her with a frown of mock pity. ‘You don’t have to be afraid,’ he said, ‘I’m not a total bastard. Give me something, and you’ll be rewarded…’

  ‘You’re a coward and a bully,’ she rasped.

  Vince smiled at the words. They were filled with condemnation, but they were a step in the right direction. Before now Sue had been steadfast in her defiance, refusing to answer. But now he’d gotten her to speak, he knew she’d find it more difficult to stop.

  ‘I’m only doing my job,’ he said. ‘I only need a few answers to my questions, and that’s all. Tell me what I want to hear, and put an end to this horrible experience.’

  ‘You’re a coward, a bully, and a liar.’

  Vince pushed back his unruly locks, and set his jaw. ‘Last chance. Tell me where your boyfriend is.’

  ‘Jason isn’t my boyfriend.’

  Vince grunted. ‘Then why protect him? He obviously doesn’t care about you. I mean, take a look around. Do you see him hurtling to your rescue?’

  Sue said nothing.

  ‘Maybe you’re expecting somebody else? The big bold Joe Hunter perhaps? Now wait! A little birdie told me you and Rink once had a thing going. Is that who you’re expecting?’ He shook his head in regret. ‘You can forget about either of them helping you, Sue. There’s only one person that can help you.’ He pointed at her chin, waggled his finger. ‘Only you can help you. And you can do it by telling me where to find Mercer.’

  ‘I have no idea where he is.’

  ‘Untrue. See, I believe you had an escape plan, with a prearranged meeting place agreed. I think you were in the act of fleeing there when Hunter and Rink stuck their noses into your business and spoiled your plan, and you only went with them out of necessity. I also think that you planned giving them the slip at your earliest convenience, and running back to your boyfriend, but then we threw another wrench in the works by capturing you. It doesn’t change the fact that a meeting place was arranged, or that Mercer is there now, waiting for you to show up.’

  ‘There was no meeting place. Mercer’s gone, he’s in the wind, and I can’t help you find him.’

  ‘And you had the audacity to call me a liar.’

  Vince shrugged, flicked his a fingers a second time.

  Wayne Davis who’d been sitting across from Sue, smiling amiably throughout the discourse, stood up. Sue clenched her fists tightly again, trying to glare defiantly at him, but the boyish thug only clucked his tongue and turned his back on her. While she scowled in frustration, she was unaware of Scott looming behind her. He dropped the polythene sheet in front of her face, and then yanked it backwards. The plastic was tough, but it perfectly moulded to the contours of her features.

  Sue was blinded, but that was not the worst of it. The polythene sealed her airways. She could neither draw in breath, nor expel what was already in her lungs. Instant suffocation occurred. She fought for her life, kicking and jerking at her restraints, the chair jumping on its wooden feet, but Scott hove in on her, jamming the back of her head to his abdomen and pulling the plastic tighter. Panic engulfed her. Vince knew that the pressure in her skull would feel as if it was about to burst open, the way in which a victim of his garrote felt. It was the second time that Sue had endured similar torture since he’d grabbed her, and wouldn’t be the last.

  He flicked at Scott and the big man relaxed the pressure and lifted away the polythene.

  Sue gulped for air, streams of saliva dripping from her mouth, bloody mucus running from her nostrils. The sclera of her eyes was pink.

  Vince asked, ‘Where’s Mercer?’

  ‘Go to hell,’ she gasped.

  He didn’t bother instructing Scott again, the big man was aware of what was required. The polythene dropped over her face again and was wrenched tight. Vince observed as Sue fought for freedom, watching a concavity grow and deflate over the open oval of her mouth. She shivered and jerked, but her strength was diminishing swiftly. She made a noise in her throat like a wailing banshee and bubbles of escaping oxygen writhed beneath the plastic shroud. Her tremors grew more frantic by the second. Vince silently counted to ten, then quirked an eyebrow at his henchman. Scott withdrew.

  Sue threw back her head, mouth open, her tongue squirming. It took a moment to get her lungs to work. She dragged in air, then her head fell forward and Vince was certain she was on the verge of blacking out. He backhanded her across the cheek. Saliva flew as she woke with a start.

  ‘How long must we keep this up?’ Vince demanded. ‘You know you can’t resist, Sue. Do yourself a favour and end this. Where is Mercer?’

  He gave her a few seconds to compose an answer. She looked at him, and the pink in her sclera had deepened, a blood vessel had broken in the corner of her left eye. Her voice was hoarse and thin. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Again,’ he said to Scott.

  ‘No, no, for God’s sake!’ Sue’s face contorted in horror. ‘It doesn’t matter how many times you ask, I don’t know where he is!’

  Vince stared at her, and she tried to show how earnest she was by mouthing a silent plea. He pirouetted slowly on one heel, one hand clenching his pompadour as he thought. He faced her once more, bottom lip protruding. He lowered both hands at his sides. Thought some more.

  ‘Nah,’ he concluded, ‘I don’t believe you.’

  Scott yanked down the polythene a third time and bunched his fists at the rear of her skull. He pulled her back so hard that Sue’s neck craned painfully over the back of the chair. The plastic moulded to her face. Through it she looked skull-like. This time she lacked the strength to fight; only her frantic gulping and shivering indicated she was still trying to live. Then she fell still.

  ‘She’s out, Vince,’ said Scott needlessly in a thick New Jersey accent.

  ‘You’d better let her breathe then,’ Vince said. ‘She’s not much good to us dead.’

  Scott relaxed his grip. The polythene sucked off Sue’s dampened skin. She made a compulsive gulp, but didn’t rouse. ‘I don’t think she knows anything,’ said Scott.

  Vince held up a warning finger, though he was beginning to suspect the same. There were few people that could withstand such torture. If Sue knew Mercer’s location then she would’ve been singing like a bird by now. Probably she didn’t know exactly where he was, but Vince was convinced she’d agreed a rendezvous with Mercer, and he wanted to learn where. To hunt somebody you needed a starting point from where you could pick up the scent. ‘I’m only asking the wrong questions. Wake her up, Scott.’

  Scott wasn’t gentle with his instruction. He grasped Sue’s hair, rolling his fingers into a tight fist to exert more pressure and shook her head savagely.

  She awoke with a yowl. Scott held her head steady as Vince approached and crouched in front of her. He faced her on her level, staring into her face. The broken blood vessel in her eye spread a scarlet wash across it. Blood dripped from her nostrils and was smeared across h
er top lip and cheeks. She was sweating profusely and white as snow.

  ‘Welcome back,’ said Vince, and he turned up one side of his mouth in a snarky smile. ‘Are you ready for round two?’

  Her answer came as a surprise. ‘Look at me you goddamn idiot.’

  ‘Huh?’ He bent at the waist, jutted out his chin as he scrutinised her. ‘I see you.’

  ‘No. What you see is your own future.’

  He straightened up, chewing the interior of one cheek.

  ‘That’s right,’ she went on. ‘This is what you can expect, possibly sooner rather than later, when your worth to Arrowsake is finished and they want rid of you.’

  He laughed at her prophecy, but he didn’t sound genuine.

  ‘You know I’m speaking the truth. Sooner or later you’ll be disavowed, and they’ll send some other sadistic equally blind fool to torture you, that’s if they don’t just put a bullet in the back of your head like you’re a sick dog.’ Sue turned her condemnation on the others in the room. ‘What do you think is going to happen to you once your value to them has ended? Do you think Arrowsake are going to allow any loose ends to live? Mark my words, sooner or later you’ll feel Vince’s garrote around your necks too. Save yourselves. Let me go and I can help you all disappear!’

  ‘You didn’t make a good job of disappearing yourself, did you, Sue?’ Vince aimed a wink at each of his lackeys.

  Wayne Davis grunted in disbelief, but behind her Scott swallowed and coughed, as if he had something important he wanted to ask. His fingers in her hair had relaxed incrementally. She tried to crane, to beseech him Vince guessed, and Scott’s fingers unfurled completely. But only so he could grasp both ends of the polythene sheet again. He snapped it over Sue’s face and squeezed his knuckles together.

  ‘First she won’t speak, now she won’t shut the fuck up!’ The big guy grinned savagely at Vince.

  The numbskull wouldn’t be smiling if he realised how close to the truth she was. Vince bared his teeth in reply, but then snapped up a hand. Sue again gagged and fought to breathe after the plastic was dragged off. Scott shoved her head roughly as he backed away a few steps. This was no act of mercy on Vince’s part; he only wished silence while he answered his phone. It had begun vibrating in his hip pocket.

  He frowned at the caller display: Walter H. Conrad. He swiped to answer. ‘I told you already, whatever it is you want, you’re wasting your time asking,’ he announced.

  ‘What if I can offer you something instead?’

  ‘Unless you can deliver Jason Mercer to me gift-wrapped with a goddamn bow on his head, you’re wasting my time, Walt.’

  ‘Who else would I be talking about, Vince?’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘I have Mercer.’

  ‘You mean your goddamn Golden Boy has him?’

  ‘If you’re talking about Joe, then yes. He has Mercer, and he’s willing to trade. Just so we’re clear, he means Jason Mercer in exchange for Sue Bouchard.’

  ‘Bullshit! What kind of cockamamie trap do you expect me to fall for?’

  ‘You’re fearful of a trap? Vince, you have the numbers, the guns and the hostage. What’s to be afraid of? Hunter, and especially Rink, doesn’t give a crap about Mercer’s ass, but he does care about what happens to Sue. He’s willing to trade, but if you’ve hurt her—’

  ‘She’s fine.’

  Walter didn’t halt. ‘If you’ve hurt her, then all deals are off and you face all out war.’

  ‘I told you she’s fine.’

  ‘I need proof of life.’

  Vince held out the phone to Sue. ‘Say hello.’

  Sue said nothing.

  ‘Fuck sake!’ Vince slapped her with his other hand. Sue yelped, then swore at him. ‘There you are, Walt. Satisfied?’

  ‘I want to speak with her.’

  ‘What? You think I have a random girl here I can smack around just in case I need to convince someone my hostage is still alive?’

  ‘I want to speak with her,’ Walter repeated.

  Vince stabbed the phone at her. ‘Don’t make me hit you again.’

  Sue craned towards the phone. ‘H…hullo,’ she croaked.

  ‘Sue? It’s Walter Conrad. I don’t know if you remember me but—’

  ‘I…I remember.’

  ‘Good. Now listen to me. Are you hurt?’

  ‘Just…’

  Vince butted in. ‘She’s fine, I told you.’

  Walter said, ‘Sue, I need you to stay strong. I will get you out of this. Do not argue, do not fight, and do not try to escape. Obey all instructions given to you by Vince and you’ll get out of this alive. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Vince snatching away the cell phone, ‘that’s enough. You’ve spoken with her, Walt, and you’ve had your proof of life. What now?’

  ‘Now we agree where, when and how we make the exchange,’ said Walter.

  ‘I didn’t say I was willing to exchange,’ said Vince.

  Walter clucked his tongue in disappointment. ‘Son,’ he said, stressing the term so it sounded like endearment. ‘Make the deal, it’s for your own good.’

  Vince laughed in denial. ‘I’m not afraid of Hunter.’

  ‘I’d prefer to say there’s no need to be afraid, but you know I can’t. Make the trade, Vince, for your sake. Return Sue safe and uninjured, and Hunter will give you Mercer. Do that and he’ll take her and walk away. I’ve already warned you about the alternative.’

  ‘It’s a deal,’ Vince said after a moment’s rumination. ‘But I need some time to think.’

  ‘You know how to get me. Don’t take too long, this is a time sensitive deal, son, and the clock’s ticking down.’

  Walter ended the call.

  26

  It was dusk of the second day when Rink drove us along a woodland trail bearing the ubiquitous name of Confidence Way. We had left behind the outlying burbs of Southport into a tract of uninhabited land jutting at the confluence of North Bay and Newman Bayou, about a mile and half across the sea from Panama City. There were no streetlights, no people, no other cars on the road; it was hard to believe we were so close to a major conurbation, but easy to believe why Vince had chosen the location to exchange captives. The possibility of any of us being observed was approaching nil, and that suited all parties.

  Rink proceeded warily. We could be driving into an ambush. I had my gun ready, and another sitting between my knees ready to toss to Rink in the advent we must defend ourselves. I watched the car’s sat-nav screen. ‘We’re a thousand yards out,’ I announced and Rink brought the car to a halt. There was a soft clunk and the car rocked on its chassis. As Rink started the car crawling forward again, I glanced over my shoulder at our back seat passenger. As instructed, Jason Mercer had lain down across the back seat — we didn’t want him shot from a distance before we got eyes on Sue. He wore a pillowcase over his head, and his hands were duct-taped before him. He shivered violently, and beneath the thin fabric of his blindfold I could see his head jerking spasmodically. ‘Keep it together back there,’ I warned him.

  Mercer began uttering his mantra, counting down from twenty under his breath.

  Rink and I exchanged glances.

  ‘It isn’t too late to turn around,’ Rink said.

  Surprisingly it was Mercer that replied. ‘Sue’s life is more important than mine.’ Again, his words sounded like some sort of confirmatory mantra.

  I checked the sat-nav. The countdown was on five hundred yards.

  ‘It’s too late to turn back now,’ I stressed.

  A thin strip of woods separated us from the water. The sun was low enough that it cast the long shadows of the trees over the car. Amber light flashed in an annoying strobe between the tree trunks. I deliberately averted my gaze inland as not to compromise my vision.

  ‘We’re here,’ I announced, just as the sat-nav’s robotic voice chimed that we’d reached our destination.

  There was a passing place
in the narrow trail, barely a wide spot in the dirt, marked by deep tire tracks at the soft verge. Rink drew the Ford to a halt. About two hundred yards ahead the trail took a tight left turn, and I assumed Vince’s team had parked their vehicles out of sight beyond it. We sat for a few seconds, taking stock of our surroundings, and then Rink killed the engine. I passed him his pistol, and he got out. I did too, then opened the rear door and helped Mercer crawl out and find his balance. His right elbow was held by my left hand; there was no way I was going to relinquish my SIG, though I kept it down alongside my thigh.

  The woodland wasn’t thick with undergrowth. The ground underfoot was sandy, dotted by small pale fragments of rock. A beaten down path worked its way between the trees and we exited into a wide lozenge-shaped glade, sparse of vegetation. Small ponds of murky water dotted the area, and I guessed it was prone to flooding at high tide, the reason why trees found it difficult finding any footing there. Before coming here, we’d checked satellite imagery of Vince’s suggested exchange place, so I knew this was the largest of a trio of similar open glades he could’ve chosen. He’d picked this one as it forced us to approach from a distance, with no hope of concealment.

  Vince had posted up at a point adjacent from where we entered the glade. He was dressed in dark clothing and a baseball cap. He raised an open hand in greeting as if we were old pals, and there was a danger we hadn’t recognised him. In his right hand he held a pistol. It was angled across his waist, positioned to put a bullet in Sue’s spine should things go against his instructions. Two guys flanked Sue, one of them tall and dark, the other shorter and fair: they both toted firearms. Beyond them, half-concealed by the bole of a tree lurked another figure, with a rifle held ready, though the barrel was pointed at the earth, non-threatening for the time being. The way she held her weapon was at odds with the woman’s face; even at the distance and the lowering gloom I could see the death stare she aimed at me. It was the woman I’d shot then knocked out back at the hotel.

  There were four of them.

  The math didn’t add up.