by Emrys Apollo
Desmond had done this too many times before. It had been the dead of night sometimes when he’d had a call from work, needing him in. He’d snuck out this window silently whilst Antony slept a few feet away, he could definitely do it without being detected by Kendrick. Dropping to the grass that was outside of the window, Desmond rushed towards the garage to get a mode of transport.
Opening the garage would be too noisy and take too long, so Desmond picked Antony’s motorbike. It would be small enough to fit out the doorway he had just walked into and he could push it down the street and start it up there without being in earshot of the house.
Parked down the street, Desmond stuffed his duffle bag into the compartment in the bike that had held the leathers, before Desmond put them on. He pulled on the bike helmet and straddled the machine, kicking it into life and setting off down the road. He knew he needed to pick up a cheap, disposable phone on the way to the airport; he couldn’t use his iPhone as that would mean MI6 would detect him, and he couldn’t use the Motorola because that would tip off the captives that he was on his way. Everything was in place for him to go under the radar and get to Antony without either party realizing where he was.
Desmond didn’t care if MI6 wasn’t running a rescue mission; this was a rescue mission to him.
CHAPTER 6
It was impossible to get anywhere near Antony. Desmond couldn’t work out if that was just coincidence or if someone had worked out it was him and was making it truly impossible for him to get even a little bit close. Desmond had even deliberately not buzzed in, stepping over the barrier instead so there was no record of him being here. But someone must have clocked him at some point.
Antony always seemed to be surrounded by people. It was like a sea of red trying to fight to get close to him. And every time Desmond managed to get into the middle of the bundle of people Antony wasn’t there. This was almost more tormenting that when he had no idea where Antony was. It was like trying to catch smoke; Antony was slipping through his fingers every time he got within arm’s reach of him.
Desmond had tried many things, but the problem was the team knew him. He’d been there as Antony’s friend too many times not to be recognizable. The last thing he needed was someone recognizing him and drawing attention to him. He was trying to blend into the background, not stick out like a sore thumb. The kidnappers were not supposed to think he was here.
That instantly put hiding and waiting for Antony to come in out of the window.
MI6 were very aware he was here now. It had taken about forty minutes for a message to come through on the Motorola. Jody had used some initiative and text him, asking him what he was playing at. Desmond had ignored the message. It wasn’t like he was putting whatever they were doing at danger, he wasn’t getting involved in their scout mission. So long as Stuart didn’t slip up and give himself away Desmond was confident the young German would be safe and concealed. It was himself he was more worried about.
With his cap pushed low, Desmond was waiting outside the media centre, waiting for the post-qualifying press conference to come out. He knew Antony was in there; he had been watching the competition from any television screen he could find to make sure he was up to date with the proceedings. This was one of his best chances to get to Antony; his whole bodyguard of a team shouldn’t be surrounding him for at least ten foot of his journey. Then they would swoop on him like vultures. Desmond had to exploit that distance. He’d been watching the way Antony was moving around for a day and a half. He’d deduced that this was his best shot.
As soon as he saw Antony, Desmond pushed off the wall he had been leaning on. His heart was in his mouth as he pushed passed people, not caring for their outbursts or yells that followed him. He felt hot, moving with purpose, he didn’t take his eyes off the man he’d been looking for, for about a week. He just needed to get to him. He just needed him to know he was here.
Someone got their first, pushing a competition program into Antony’s hands to sign and lifting their phone for a selfie. Desmond knew he had to blend in and thought on his feet, taking the folded program out of his back pocket.
“Do you mind?” Desmond’s voice nearly broke on the small sentence. It was the first thing he had said to Antony since this whole thing happened. The small smile stayed on Antony’s face as he took the program from Desmond’s hands.
“Of course.” Antony said lightly. Desmond didn’t hear whatever else Antony said to him, took dazed to finally be this close to Antony again, to finally be able to feel the heat coming off his body. He didn’t look hurt, but Desmond was sure that was all a front; that the bruises were hidden either under his clothes or deep in his head from emotional damage. Desmond grabbed Antony’s wrist, holding on so tightly and internally promising he’d never left go. He stood in front of the man to stop him from walking any further.
“Antony.” Desmond breathed, tears springing to his eyes. He looked up so Antony could see his face, eyes locking on the coffee brown ones he loved so much. Antony’s eyes widened in recognition. Desmond swore he saw a shot of fear flash through them.
“Desmond?” Antony’s voice was almost a whisper, his free hand reaching for the other man. Desmond couldn’t stop the smile hitting his face. But the joy didn’t last for long.
Someone suddenly smacked into Desmond’s shoulder, knocking him away from Antony and making him lose his grip on the man. Before he could turn back, a barrage of people had found their way over to him, putting more and more distance between Antony and him. But Desmond wasn’t going to give up that easy. He knew Antony still had to be close, he knew Antony had seen him, he knew Antony knew he had come to save him.
“Desmond!” Fear shot down Desmond’s spine at Antony’s distressed call. He tried to push through the people with a doubled effort, desperate to get back to Antony’s side. He caught glimpse of someone pushing Antony’s neck down and moving him on, another clamping their hand over Antony’s mouth. Getting his elbow between the two people separating him from Antony Desmond pushed forwards, his hand reaching out.
But they were organized, and quick. Before it had really dawned on Desmond he was stood on the outside of the gaggle of people that were moving off towards the motor home. Desmond set off after them, knowing they were hiding Antony in the middle of the group. He just had to find a new way in, or even to burst into the motor home in pursuit. He was not letting Antony go. Not again, not ever.
“Antony!” Desmond was winded as his back smacked into a wall, the arm across his chest holding him in place. He felt dizzy and confused, momentarily dazed at the sudden movement where he had been pulled away from his pursuit. He was just catching his breath when the arm across him changed to two hands gripping tightly into his collar, and Stuart’s face came too close to his own.
“What the hell are you doing?” Stuart gritted, his voice low.
“A bad sight more than you are.” Desmond shot back, knocking Stuart’s arms off him. He tried to move back in the direction of Antony but Stuart just forced him back into the wall of the motor home he’d been pressed against. “Get out of my fucking way.”
“This is why you were told to stay away. You’re going to mess up this whole mission!”
“What fucking mission? Sit around and just watch? He’s right there! Why aren’t you trying to intercept him and get him back?”
“You can’t just take him in plain sight, Desmond. It’ll look like you are the one trying to kidnap him. They’ve done it all too well.”
“Well how about the mission changes now? He’s fucking seen me. He knows I’m here to get him back.”
“You’ve risked everything! Now they’re going to think there is a rescue mission here for him!”
“That’s cause there is!” Desmond barked, pushing Stuart away from him. He peered around the motor home but it was too late; the kidnappers had disappeared back into the motor home with Antony. For now, he was untouchable. “Thanks a lot.”
“Henson wants you to stand down a
nd go back home… There is a truck waiting.” Stuart said with authority. Desmond walked away from him. “Desmond-”
“It’ll be waiting for a long time.” Desmond called back over his shoulder. Stuart jogged behind him until he caught up with him.
“Desmond, they have the whole team under lockdown. There is about twenty of them who we believe are the kidnappers and they don’t let him go anywhere without at least five of them in his vicinity. You can’t just take him. They’ve got it all tied off. The twenty are disguised as team personal or fans. The guy that got to Antony just before you did was one of them. They’re everywhere and well hidden. We think they’ve bribed or paid off the team to give them such exclusive access.”
“Thank you for letting me know what I’m up against.” Desmond said. “But as you just saw there are chances. And you can tell Henson that the next one I get I’m exploiting.” Without so much as a glance in Stuart’s direction, Desmond left him behind him, continuing his stroll.
He’d been so damn close. He’d had him. Desmond had had him in his grasp. All he had to say was ‘run’ and they could have both been out of there. They could have both been free of the kidnappers and just have to go into hiding for a few days. It would have been so simple. It was so simple; and it wasn’t a plan Desmond was giving up on lightly.
Desmond felt the Motorola buzz in his pocket and appeared to absent-mindedly pull it out and check it. On the inside he was panicking a little. After no word from the captors since he had spoken to them two days ago a message straight after he had spoke to Antony was not a good sign.
I thought you said there was no rescue party.
Well, now they knew he was here.
- - -
Desmond was so angry at himself. He should have only acted if he was certain he could accomplish his plan. Now Antony was unreachable at any time, and he looked a hell of a lot more jittery than he had before Desmond had spoken to him. It had been counter-productive in so many ways, not only with his chances of getting close to Antony but also in Antony’s mental state. Now the end of the weekend was here and he couldn’t get anywhere close to Antony. No more lags in him being unattended gave Desmond no opportunity to grab his hand and tell him to run. The only thing that was left was for Antony to disappear with the captive again and a cold trail to his location.
Desmond couldn’t take losing him again. It certainly wasn’t in his plans.
He knew trying to take Antony wouldn’t work. He’d tried getting close to him moving down only to have Antony taken off somewhere he couldn’t go or too many people bustling into him for him to be able to keep following the man. He was taking a new approach, one that meant he would simply follow Antony and find out where he was going so he knew where he could find him. Perhaps listening to MI6 on this occasion was the best idea.
He was waiting around the motor home, his sight point on the front door so he would know exactly when Antony had left.
As soon as the door opened it was clear Antony wasn’t alone. He walked out with someone in attire that looked more like a bodyguard. When his arm clenched tightly around Antony’s bicep Desmond knew that was the case. He waited for twenty seconds, waiting to see how many other people joined the protection party. One man dropped in in front of Antony whilst two more picked up the rear. With a nod, Desmond set off, following behind at the perfect distance to not be detected.
Now was not the time for sudden movements or sprint dashes. Desmond just had to stick within range of Antony and follow him to wherever he was being taken. Four more guys joined the procession, two on either side of Antony and the guy who was still holding onto Antony tightly. One of the guys on the left moved in and muttered something to the guy who had Antony. It caused Desmond to frown for a split second.
In the time it took Desmond to blink, Antony had been hauled down the side of some motor home. Throwing all caution to the wind, Desmond jogged after them, managing to pick the right side entrance thanks to the pair flanking behind Antony. It was a short distance to the back of the motor homes. Desmond caught himself before he became visible, peering around the motor home in time to see the guy who had Antony’s arm pressing duct tape over his mouth and maneuvering him into a blacked out truck. Desmond waited patiently, fighting internally with the emotionally attached part of himself that wanted to sprint over to the truck and fight them to get Antony back. It was that irrational part that had lost him his chance of getting to Antony in the first place. Now he needed his work mind on.
Desmond memories the make of truck and the number plate, then headed back down. He walked with a quick pace, knowing the truck with Antony was going to exit the wrong end. That should give him enough time to make it to his bike and get onto the road before the truck made any progress on its journey. Running the last part of his journey, Desmond pulled his helmet onto his head, jumping onto the bike and starting it up in the same fluid motion. Using the power of the bike and one foot planted on the floor, he pivoted the machine to be facing the opposite direction to which it had been parked. Snapping down his visor, Desmond set off in pursuit of the blacked out truck, all the time reciting the number plate in his head.
It seemed to glow off the truck as Desmond parked three cars behind it at the lights. His hands tightened on the handlebars as he allowed the irrational part of his brain to react to being this close to Antony. Again, it was not the time to kick off and drive into the side of the SUV. He would have his chance to make the captors pay, but right now he needed to know where they were going.
It had been working well, subtly following Antony’s truck through the city and keeping tabs on his progress. It was when the SUV took a sudden right-hand turn that Desmond got the impression he may have been detected. Taking the same turn, Desmond’s suspicions were proven right as the blacked-out truck ahead doubled its speed, shooting away from him. Throwing caution to the wind, Desmond picked up his own speed so as to not lose the truck ahead. If all he could get out of this weekend was a location then he refused to lose that as well.
The SUV was gaining speed rapidly and nearly caused a pile up as it blasted onto the motorway. Desmond was still just behind it, managing to keep up with the erratic lane changes and differing choices of direction. Zooming off the motorway, the SUV jumped a red light as it headed towards a tight country lane. Horn sounds followed Desmond as he narrowly missed the on-coming traffic, still hot on the heels of the SUV transporting Antony. Desmond’s plan was getting more and more erratic the faster the truck seemed to go. What was the point on following them to a location? Now he had been detected, it was highly likely that the kidnappers would take Antony somewhere else as soon as they were sure Desmond had left. So why wait? Why not just get Antony back now?
The ringing in his pocket brought him back to the present with a smack. It was the phone. It was the truck ahead trying to contact him. It dawned on Desmond that, although the kidnappers knew they were being followed, they didn’t know for certain it was him on the bike. Desmond decreased his speed to a speed he could think logically at and managed to get the ringing phone out of his pocket. Flipping it open, Desmond wedged it into his helmet before placing both hands back on the handlebars and catching back up to the SUV.
“Hello?” Desmond said, trying not to sound like he was driving down a country road after the truck that had disappeared ahead of him. He just needed to see the headlights.
“What are you doing.” The bored tone of the kidnapper said. Desmond feigned innocence.
“What am I doing?”
“You’re only going to get someone hurt, Desmond. Stop this childish behavior.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There was a sign down the phone.
“Ok. Stop the bike or we’ll make you stop the bike.” Desmond’s speed dipped a little at the sound of a gun being loaded up.
“Bike?” Desmond said, his voice a lot smaller than it was. There was a small laugh down the phone.
“You’re on the speaker in the truck, D
esmond!” The captor said excitedly. “Say hi to Antony!”
“I don’t-”
“Antony, say hi.” There was a thud sound and then a whimper.”
“Leave him alone.” Desmond picked up the speed he had lost. He would not let them hurt Antony anymore than they already had.
“No. You do not get to set the rules. We had a deal and so far you are not keeping up your end.”
“What are you talk-?”
“When are you killing Bowse, Sharp? When does that happen? I’m getting tired of waiting.”
“Leave Antony out of this, he’s done nothing!”
“No. This is not your game. You’re not playing my rules so maybe this toy has lost its value.” Desmond head the safety click off a gun. Another whimper, this time of fear.
“Leave him alone!” Desmond begged, his emotions tearing out of his throat. He could not be this close and lose him. He could not lose him. It would not happen.
“Stop this pursuit. Go back home and kill Bowse. That is the deal for his life.”
“I’m not leaving him here! Not now!”
“Bored.” The kidnapper sighed, cutting off the conversation.
“No!” Desmond screamed, ramping up the speed of his bike it its max. The air whipped passed his head in a blur of noise. His head was racing, waiting to hear a gunshot he couldn’t seem to stop. He couldn’t be far behind them now. He was driving at a ridiculous speed. There was no way the truck could reach this velocity. He had to be closing in. He had to be close to Antony. Then he could save him. Once he was there, he could protect him. In his tussling emotions he nearly didn’t see the person sat in the middle of the road.
