by Bill Ward
“Stop,” he yelled. “Or I’ll shoot her.”
Hattie was cowering from a gun pointing directly at her head.
Powell turned off the ignition. He was never going to get far in the car and had reached the conclusion whatever their plans, they didn’t intend to kill them, at least not right here and now.
Up close, Powell was able to recognise his assailants as Tommy and his sidekick Roger. Powell wondered if Scott was nearby.
“Step out of the car,” Tommy ordered.
Powell was pleased to oblige. Within the confines of the car he had no chance to deal with this threat. He stepped out of the car with his hands in the air and took a few steps towards Tommy.
“That’s close enough,” Tommy warned, pointing his gun at Powell’s chest.
Powell regretted having previously demonstrated his fighting skills. He no longer had surprise on his side and Tommy had no intention of letting him get close.
Tommy put his mobile to his ear. “We’re ready,” he said, never taking his eyes off Powell.
Powell stood still, not wanting to provoke the easily provoked Tommy. Powell had no doubts, Tommy would pull the trigger given half an excuse, even if his boss wanted him alive.
Hattie was standing nearby, looking scared. She had been a little naïve, hearing Scott telling Tommy to keep an eye on her and then obviously being followed to this meeting. She should have been more careful but then that was a tad unfair. She’d never been in MI5 or anything remotely similar.
After a minute, Powell heard a car approaching and the familiar Land Rover pulled alongside the parked cars. Scott was behind the wheel.
“Come over here Hattie,” Tommy instructed.
She did as she was told and Tommy turned her around, then tied her hands behind her back with a plastic tie.
“Turn around, Powell and put your hands behind your back. No funny business or I’ll kill the girl,” Tommy threatened.
Powell was calculating the odds of disarming both men but decided he couldn’t risk Hattie getting shot so did as instructed.
“Tie his hands, Roger,” Tommy ordered.
Powell offered no resistance and felt the plastic cut into his wrists.
Tommy pulled open the rear door of the Land Rover. “Get in, Hattie,” he commanded, waving his gun at her to silence any argument.
Hattie climbed into the car with Tommy holding her arm. Once inside, she shuffled across the rear seat.
“Now your turn, Powell,” Tommy said, stepping back out of reach. As Powell slid onto the back seat, Scott was turned around in the driver’s seat pointing a gun at Hattie.
“Let’s get something straight,” Scott said. “Give us any trouble, even the sniff of trouble and the first person to be shot will be Hattie.”
Tommy sat in the passenger seat and aimed his gun at the backseat, allowing Scott to face forwards. Roger joined Powell on the backseat. He poked his gun into Powell’s ribs.
Scott glanced in his rear view mirror and then seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he accelerated away.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Powell was uncertain why he had been taken alive. Hattie was a different matter. Scott didn’t want to give up on the millions she would inherit on her birthday. Although, how Scott could still expect to get her millions after what she had seen was another question. Perhaps he intended to resort to good old fashioned kidnapping and demand a ransom for her safe return. Her parents were certainly good for a few million.
They had been deposited in the rather dank and damp smelling basement of Tintagel. The room was cold and uninviting. They each still had their hands tied behind their backs with plastic ties but they now also had their ankles tied. They were sitting, propped up with their backs against one of the walls. Powell flexed his muscles to try and loosen the knots but without success.
There was a single light which allowed him to investigate their temporary jail and confirm there was no other way out. The large door at the top of the concrete stairs was the only entrance. The large room was empty except for a single metal chair in one corner.
What the hell was its purpose? Had it been used to ask questions of a previous captive? Had the young reporter been held down here prior to being murdered.
“Perhaps we should shout for help,” Hattie suggested.
“These walls are very thick. You’d just be wasting your breath.”
“What are they going to do with us?” Hattie asked.
“I’m not sure. The fact they haven’t just handed me over to the police means they must need something.”
“Such as?”
“Perhaps they want to find out who I have told about their drugs business.”
“You sound like my mother. I know we all like to use a little but it’s not a business. It’s purely recreational use.”
“Hattie, trust me, this is a business. The other night I saw someone in the police hand over a very large amount of drugs to Scott.”
“Perhaps he was just stocking up a bit.”
“This was a suitcase full. I don’t know the street value but I guess it would be tens or possibly hundreds of thousands of pounds. That definitely constitutes a business.”
“Did you actually see what was in the suitcase?”
“No but they weren’t out admiring the view in the middle of the night.”
“How do you know they were police you saw giving the drugs to Scott? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It was definitely two police officers. I followed them back to Haywards Heath police station.”
“So why haven’t you told someone?”
“I have a friend in the security services. I told him and he’s trying to find out who the officers are.”
Hattie smiled. “So if your friend knows everything, will he look for you when he doesn’t hear from you?”
“Eventually.”
“That’s good.”
Powell didn’t want to crush Hattie’s hopes but he doubted they could just sit around waiting to be rescued. He tried to give a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll soon be out of here.”
“I hope so.”
Powell had been wanting the chance to ask Hattie something and now seemed as good a time as any. “Hattie, why did you ever join the commune?”
“Didn’t you ask me that before?”
“I think I probably did but we know each other better now. I’m intrigued what you saw in this place.”
“I love the freedom. I told you how life at home was always difficult. I was expected to follow a set of social rules about how I should behave. Who I should see and where I should go was dictated by my parents. My mother was trying to get me married to the right sort of person. I wasn’t remotely interested in marriage. The thought of promising in your early twenties to only have sex with the same one man for the rest of your life is absurd. It reached the point I couldn’t breathe.”
“Most teenagers face the same problems but don’t run away to join a commune.”
“I guess that just makes me different.”
“There was nothing specific at home you were trying to escape?”
“You mean, did my stepfather abuse me while I was growing up?”
The thought had entered Powell’s head. “Did he?”
“No. I don’t like him but he never touched me. He was never around enough when I was growing up to even notice I existed. He was too busy making money. He makes a lousy father but he didn’t do anything like that.”
Powell was relieved. In trying to understand why someone in Hattie’s privileged position would join a commune, he had considered the possibility she was escaping something as much as running towards something. “Does anyone ever come down here?” Powell asked, seeking to change the subject.
“Unfortunately, no one ever comes down here.”
Powell had a moment of unease. He wasn’t sure what caused it but a shadow flickered across his memory and he knew there was something important, he was missing.
“You know what you said earlier about Stuart being shot?” Hattie continued. “Do you really think Scott was responsible?”
“It looks that way. As you can see, none of them are exactly averse to using guns.”
“I can’t believe Scott would kill anyone. He’s always talking about free love and respect for life.”
“Charles Manson was probably the same.”
“Who is he?” Hattie asked.
“He led a commune in California in the sixties. He and his small band of followers murdered a bunch of people, including an actress. It was big news at the time.”
“We aren’t going to kill anyone, even if Scott was to want us too, which I’m sure he wouldn’t.”
“I don’t think you know Scott as well as you think you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be tied up in here, with me.”
“Possibly but I know Scott really likes me. He won’t hurt me.”
“I don’t share your confidence. He was pointing a gun at you, threatening to kill you, just a short time ago.”
“That doesn’t mean he’d actually shoot me.”
Hattie was very naïve. Powell was uncertain if she was trying to convince herself Scott wouldn’t hurt her, or whether she really believed it to be true. She may be right. Scott might just have been using her as a means of ensuring Powell remained compliant. And there was still the matter of her inheritance.
“What about Tommy?” Powell quizzed. “Could he have killed Stuart?”
Hattie was thoughtful for a second. “Tommy used to be a soldier and has a nasty temper. I think he would be capable of shooting someone.”
“I agree. I know he’d shoot me if Scott tells him to. In fact, he might not wait to be told by Scott.”
“I’m sure Scott won’t let Tommy shoot either of us.”
“Well it might be best not to hang around to find out,” Powell said, climbing to his feet, using the wall behind his back for support.
The wall was made of stones set unevenly in concrete. Powell worked his way along the wall until he found a rough stone with a sharp edge. He started to rub the ties holding his hands against the edge of the stone. The ties were flush against his skin and as he tried to cut them, the stone was also cutting into his wrist.
He worked quickly, ignoring the pain and after a few minutes the plastic had started to tear. His hands were soon free and he turned his attention to his ankles. He lay on his back and lifting his feet in the air once again used the stone to cut the plastic.
Powell helped Hattie to her feet and was able to loosen the ties enough for her to get her hands free. When he checked her feet he found they hadn’t been tied as tightly as his and he was able to simply pull off the ties.
“Now what?” Hattie asked.
“Now you have to trust me,” Powell replied. “This may be our one and only chance to escape. We are both going to sit back down and pretend we are still tied up. When they return, I will deal with them and then we get the hell out of here as quickly as possible.”
“But there’s three of them, only one of you.”
“I will have surprise on my side. Now have a quick stretch and then sit back down. I’ll make it look like you are still tied up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Powell didn’t have long to wait before he heard the key turning in the door. He was hoping that less than three people would come through the door but it wasn’t turning out to be his lucky day.
Tommy led the way, his arm extended with gun in hand and alert to any danger. Seeing Powell and Hattie where they had been left, he relaxed and allowed his arm to drop to his side. Roger followed close behind, weapon also in hand and last through the door was the unarmed Scott.
At the bottom of the steps the three of them approached in a line before stopping a couple of feet away. They looked relaxed and Tommy in particular, had a smile of self-satisfaction.
“We have some questions for you, Powell,” Scott said. “Tell us what we want to know and we can put an end to this unpleasantness.”
“The only thing unpleasant here is the bad smell since you all entered the room,” Powell replied.
His words had the desired effect. Roger reacted first and took a step nearer, aiming a vicious kick at Powell’s legs. Powell was faster and as Roger’s foot was in mid-air, Powell swept the standing leg away, sending Roger and his gun, crashing to the floor.
Powell was on his feet in an instant, lashing out and connecting with Tommy’s knee, causing him to cry out in pain and also drop his weapon, which bounced noisily on the concrete floor.
Scott took a step backwards but Powell was on him with a roundhouse kick that connected with the side of his head and sent him spinning to the floor.
Tommy swung at Powell but as the fist made a wide arc towards Powell’s chin, he easily stepped inside the punch, grabbed Tommy’s arm and threw him to the floor.
Roger was climbing to his feet so Powell delivered a further kick to his head, which sent him sprawling backwards.
Powell was reaching for Tommy’s fallen weapon when he heard the warning.
“Fucking touch that Powell, and I swear I’ll shoot you in the back.”
He slowly turned around to find Hattie was pointing a gun directly at him. He assumed it was Roger’s weapon. Her hands were shaking a little and he assessed it was probably the first time she had pointed a gun at anyone.
Would she actually shoot him? Despite her nervousness, he thought there was a better than fifty per cent chance, she would pull the trigger. There was too much distance between them and her automatic reaction to any movement on his part, might well be to fire. She was aiming at his chest and he didn’t like the odds. She was close enough, she wouldn’t miss. He stood still.
“Well done Hattie,” Scott said, climbing to his feet.
“Everything becomes clear,” Powell said. “You never overheard them talking in the basement. There is nowhere in here you could have stayed out of sight.”
There had been other pointers, he could now see with great clarity. The Hattie he knew, would have turned the air blue when they were taken prisoner. She would have demanded to know what was going on. Instead, she’d said nothing and he’d thought she was scared but she kept quiet because she knew what was happening and why. It was also why she was so adamant Scott wouldn’t harm her.
Tommy had slowly regained his feet. He picked up his weapon and advanced towards Powell. His knee was damaged and he dragged one leg as he walked. “Pretty fancy with those feet of yours aren’t you?” He didn’t expect or wait for an answer. He held the gun up close against Powell’s inner thigh and pulled the trigger.
Powell fell to the floor clutching at his thigh. Blood was seeping out of the wound but the bullet had exited the back of the thigh and it was only a flesh wound. Tommy knew what he was doing. He’d left the bone alone. It wasn’t a life threatening wound but it did hurt like hell.
“That will slow him down,” Roger said, laughing.
“The only reason you are still alive is because we have some questions for you,” Tommy threatened, standing above Powell. “I hope you refuse to answer because I’m going to enjoy making you talk.”
“He’s already told me most of what we want to know,” Hattie interjected.
Powell remembered how willingly he had answered all of Hattie’s questions and felt a bloody fool. He was pressing down on his wound trying to stop the flow of blood. His skin felt clammy and his heart was beating rapidly. He knew he was suffering from shock. At home the remedy would have been a stiff scotch but that wasn’t an option.
He needed to focus on finding a way out of the current mess. By the time Brian became worried about the lack of contact, Powell doubted he would still be alive, especially if Tommy had any say in the matter.
“Sit him in the chair,” Scott instructed.
Roger picked up the single metal chair from the side of the room and placed it close to Powell. Then he and Tommy grabbed Powell under each arm and roughly pulled him into the
chair. Tommy took further plastic ties from his pocket and tied Powell’s arms and legs to the chair.
“Now, if you’re sitting comfortably, we’ll begin,” Scott said, sarcastically. “Start at the beginning and tell me why you ever wanted to join our commune.”
“I’d been struggling getting a girlfriend and I heard you believe in free love so it seemed a good way of getting some action.”
Scott smiled. “Glad to see you still have your sense of humour. Tommy, please show Powell this is a serious discussion and he should refrain from any more frivolity.”
With an evil grin, Tommy landed a punch on Powell’s nose.
“Hit him again,” Hattie encouraged.
Tommy followed up by leaning his hand on Powell’s thigh. His finger found the entry wound and Powell reacted by screaming at the top of his voice.
Tommy stepped back, shocked by the noisy onslaught.
A few years earlier, Powell had spent one Summer in Japan, studying martial arts, trying to expand his skills beyond Kickboxing and been shown the value of Kiai, beyond the simple grunt when delivering a blow. He was taught that Kiai is more than an explosive voice sound; it represents the projection of sound fused with energy or spirit that blends with the energy or spirit of the opponent, thus having an effect.
Powell had been a bit sceptical at first but kept an open mind and this was the first time since, he’d tried out what he’d been taught. Powell’s novice like scream had nothing like the power and impact he’d seen demonstrated by a teacher but it had caused a startled reflex action in Tommy, causing him to step away and providing Powell at least a temporary respite from the pain.
“We’d better gag him,” Tommy suggested.
“Then how the fuck is he going to tell us anything,” Scott pointed out.
Powell allowed a small smile to cross his lips. Tommy wasn’t the brightest spark. Powell’s thigh was once again oozing blood and his nose felt like it was broken but he took comfort from having caused at least momentary confusion.
“I’m hungry,” Hattie suddenly announced. “And thirsty. I missed dinner, tied up down here. Will this take long? While you lot were no doubt enjoying a drink upstairs in the warm, I was freezing my bum off down here, trying to get information out of Powell.”
