FicWad

Four hours later, Mikey sat in the back seat of Frank’s car alongside Ray, his hands handcuffed behind him. As the car pulled out into traffic for the twenty minute journey, Mikey looked from his knees to Ray and back again. All three were smartly dressed in brand new suits with matching shirts and ties, although, he got the impression that Ray’s suit didn’t quite fit him, which surprised him, as it appeared that Frank had excellent taste and had reached the conclusion that looking his best was important to him. Even when he was dressed casually the previous night when Frank had cooked for him, Mikey had noticed his appearance and been impressed by his attention to use of colour and textures. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to even spare a passing glance that Frank cared about his appearance.

Frank had explained his plan to Mikey only half an hour earlier. Naturally, Mikey had refused to help, astonished by the idea that he had even assumed for a moment that he would acquiesce to his demands. But that was before he had been shown the trigger mechanism and been told about the bomb planted in Gerard’s office. The tiniest flick of a switch and it would all be over for his brother. Frank had taken great pleasure in reminding him that his brother was no longer needed for their plan to succeed as they had all the codes they needed to access the bank and security systems. Of course, Mikey was more than aware by this point that no longer needing Gerard also meant that they no longer needed him and if he didn’t do what they asked, the result could only be both their deaths.

Mikey had initially welcomed the idea of being taken somewhere; it was a chance to escape, possibly the only chance he’d get. But all his hopes were dashed at the production of that tiny black box with the chrome switch. He didn’t dare risk anything that could bring harm, or worse, to Gerard.

Mikey glanced again at Ray, sitting silently next to him, wearing glasses and his hair slicked back with gel, he looked so different.

“What?” Ray asked gruffly.
“Nothing,” Mikey replied looking away, not wishing to engage either of them in conversation.
“You think you’re better than us?” asked Ray, pointedly. “Fancy lawyer looking down his nose at criminal scum?”
“No!” Mikey answered quickly. In truth, he didn’t know what he had been thinking, other than being worried about Gerard. It only occurred to him now that around these men the only thing he had felt was fear. “I wasn’t thinking about you at all.”
“Were you thinking about me?” Frank laughed from the driver’s seat.
“I…” Mikey paused, hesitating to answer. He had thought about Frank, he had thought about both of them, but merely observations, not judgements. “I was thinking about Gerard.”
“Aww, that’s sweet!” Frank laughed again. “Isn’t it, Ray?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Ray shrugged touching his gelled hair and frowning at the unfamiliarity of it.
“No, it’s a good thing, it means that our boy here will do his job properly, if he’s worried about his brother and what might happen if he doesn’t.”
“I’m not your boy!” Mikey snapped back.
“Listen to me, Way,” Frank began sourly, “you’re impeccably dressed, just a bit too beautiful to be real, a tiny bit nervous and handcuffed. You ought to be glad it’s Ray in the back with you and not me!”

Mikey’s mouth dropped open slightly and he gasped with surprise at the openness with which Frank had just addressed him.

“He’s serious, you know,” Ray added with a mischievous grin.
“I know he is,” Mikey replied looking down at his knees once more.

Frank slowed the car to halt. Mikey looking up nervously as he did.
“Right,” Frank turned and looked at both men seated in the back of the car, his face hardened with determination. “Everyone remember the plan? And who they are?”
Ray nodded grimly. “I’m David Tanner, you’re John Brooke and he’s Simon Mellor.”
“Okay, Simon?” Frank pushed the point.
Mikey looked up and nodded bleakly; there was little he could do but agree to help them.
“Okay, Ray, remove his handcuffs.”
Mikey leaned forward as Ray reached behind him with the small key and unlocked the cuffs around his wrists.
“Don’t forget,” Ray whispered into his ear as he removed the cuffs, “you say or do one thing out of place and Gerard is dead. Got it?”
Mikey nodded; it wasn’t the sort of thing he was likely to forget, but he had long since realised that they liked to torture him with the idea.

Pulling out into traffic once more, Frank glanced at the clock on the dashboard, it was a little after three and this had to be settled quickly to give them time to finalise their plans for the evening. This whole rescue was a major inconvenience and was only being considered to save Bob from the possibility of arrest. Frank could only hope that, as yet, Bob’s name had been kept out of it. As he drew up to the base, Frank sank into character, determined to make this as real as possible; it was the only way they were all going to get in and out unscathed.

Pulling up at the entrance to the base, Frank lowered the driver’s door window and leaned out as the guard approached.

“We have an appointment to meet with Sergeant Hannell of the Military Police. I’m John Brooke, personal assistant to Simon Mellor, Lieutenant Clarke’s lawyer.”
“One moment, Sir,” the guard acknowledged before returning to the booth to consult his book of daily appointments. Spotting the last minute addition, he nodded to himself before returning to the car.

“Yes, Sir. Sergeant Hannell is expecting you,” he bent down to point down the long driveway. “Follow this road down to that building on the left, take a left and then the second right, the guard house is at the end. I’ll phone through, someone will be there to meet you, Sir.”
“Thank you,” Frank replied bringing his arm back into the car and raising the glass, relieved that the first step was over. “Well, we’re in,” he spoke whilst looking into the rear view mirror. He knew this wasn’t the worst bit, even getting Mikey to convincingly act the part of Gary Clarke’s lawyer wouldn’t be the worst.

Following the directions, it was only a matter of minutes before the car pulled up outside the guard house. Frank, Ray and Mikey all stepped from the car. Out of uncertainty, Frank glanced at Mikey to see if the sudden freedom had given him any ideas of escape, but it was clear that they had made their point and he was waiting with them without drawing any attention to himself. Frank smiled inwardly, believing that they may actually pull this off. As the door opened, Frank looked up from his thoughts as a Military Police Officer walked purposefully towards them.

“Good afternoon, I’m Sergeant Hannell,” he introduced himself addressing Frank, “you must be Clarke’s lawyer.”
“I’m Simon Mellor,” Mikey stepped forward, “I am Lieutenant Clarke’s lawyer.”
Momentarily thrown off-balance by the insistence of using Clarke’s rank, Hannell re-focussed his attention on Mikey.

“Mistor Mellor,” Hannell nodded as he held out his hand to Mikey.
“Sergeant,” Mikey took his hand in a firm shake, “thank you for accommodating us at such short notice.
“I’ll take you through, come this way.”

Mikey, Frank and Ray followed; all seemed to be going well.

“I was surprised to get your call,” Hannell commented, “I thought Lieutenant Clarke was going to use a military lawyer. With all his accounts frozen, I didn’t think he could afford a civilian lawyer.”

Frank’s eyes opened wide at the comment; it would be hard enough even to explain their presence, but he was impressed by Mikey’s unflinching reply.

“I’m a friend of the family, I came as soon as I heard.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t call you himself,” Hannell replied.
“He wouldn’t,” Mikey sighed. “We don’t exactly get on; like I said, I’m a friend of the family.”
“A friend of his wife?” Hannell chuckled to himself. “Yeah, that figures.”
“I’d like to see my client,” Mikey replied sternly. “In private.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t allow that, a member of military personnel must be present at all times.”
“Sergeant Hannell,” Mikey cut in sternly, “are you denying my client his basic rights?”
“No, Sir,” Hannell stopped and turned to face the three men.
“My client has the right to private consultation with his lawyer. Private, Sergeant.”
“Yes, Sir,” he sighed as he escorted the trio to the cell. Opening the door, he stood back while the men walked in. “Thirty minutes only.”

Frank waited until the door was closed and he heard the footsteps moving away before turning back to face the cell’s occupant.

“Who are you?” asked Clarke.
“Friends of Bob, we’re getting you out,” Frank replied simply.
“Out of here?” he laughed. “There’s no way…”
“Shut up,” Frank ordered, “we don’t have time. Strip.”
“What the…”
“Just do it!” Frank snapped. “You’re going to exchange clothes with David,” he jabbed a thumb at Ray, “and you’re going to walk out of here.”
“Are you crazy?” Clarke snapped. “There’s no way…”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Gary Clarke frowned at the question. Of course, he didn’t. The only future he saw for himself was one behind bars; this could well be his only chance.
“What about him?” he nodded at Ray.
“I’ll say you attacked us, took my clothes and forced your way out with Simon and John as hostages.”
“They’re not you’re real names, are they?”
“You don’t need to know anything more than we’ve told you, now strip, quickly, we don’t have long.”

In a matter of only a few minutes, Clarke was slipping on the jacket of ray’s suit leaving Ray, slightly chilled, standing in only his boxers and socks.

“And you’re supposed to convince them I attacked you?” Clarke frowned. “How exactly? There’s not a mark on you.”
Ray glanced at Frank.
“There’s not much I can do about that, I’m not risking hurting you. You need to be fit for work,” Frank replied with a shrug.
“I’m trained,” Clarke cut in, “I can hit him, he’ll be out for a few minutes, no damage.”
“No,” Frank insisted. “It’ll still hurt.”
“Fr… John,” Ray sighed, “if it’ll help, it’s okay, really.”
“I knew you were using fake names,” Clark laughed to himself. “I need something to hit him with.”
“Like what?” Frank asked.
“A gun?”
Frank allowed himself a small laugh. “I’m not giving you a gun. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Clearly not.” Clarke frowned before slipping off one of his shoes. “Turn around.”

Ray turned his back on the soldier, closing his eyes, his face screwed up in readiness for the expected blow.

“Before you do anything,” Frank cut in. “Remember, no damage, or you’re dead.”
“Don’t worry,” Clarke assured him. “He’ll be fine.”

Ray felt the heel of the shoe brought down swiftly behind his ear and within moments he was on his knees, his fingers over the bleeding wound. Still conscious Ray fell onto his left hand for support as Clarke cleaned the heel of blood and slipped it back on.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked with concern.
“Yeah,” Ray replied groggily. “You better go.”

“Sergeant!” Mikey called, waiting as Clarke adjusted the glasses on his nose.

The door opened and the three exited quickly pulling the door closed behind them.

“I want to ask you a few questions, Sergeant,” Mikey drew his attention as the others headed towards the waiting car. “Tell me, from your own impressions of him, do you think he’s guilty?”
“That’s not for me to say,” the sergeant replied carefully believing the lawyer to be trying to trip him up.
“No, I know,” Mikey nodded. “But I’d be interested to hear your opinion.”
“He’s been pretty tight-lipped,” the man admitted. “My experience is that innocent men are quite vocal.”

Already at the door, with Frank and Clarke now waiting in the car, Mikey nodded.
“That’s useful to know. Thank you, Sergeant.”

Sliding in beside Clarke, Mikey heaved a sigh as Frank drove away. They were not clear yet though, they still had to get past the gate.