FicWad

Sergeant Hannell headed back down the long corridor towards Clarke’s cell. His lawyers hadn’t stayed long; in fact they had left in a surprising hurry. Hannell smiled to himself as he thought about how troubled they must be trying to defend a man who was so clearly guilty.

Clarke’s senior officers had suspected him for a long time and had quietly noted when items of equipment apparently went missing only to reappear shortly after. They suspected he was supplying the devices for black-marketeers or for other Governments to copy. The reality was much more mundane, but just as serious. However, thankfully, as Bob had suspected, Clarke had not by that point named him as an accomplice.

Hannell inspected the cell through the small inset hatch and frowned as he initially saw no one. Glancing to the sides before looking down, Hannell finally spotted Ray lying sprawled on the floor.

“Fuck!” Hannell cried as he pushed the key into the lock and, drawing his pistol, opened the cell door.

Quickly scanning the cell, he soon realised that Ray was the only occupant, lying in only his underwear and apparently unconscious it was obvious to Hannell what had happened. Ignoring Ray, he pulled the radio from his belt and spoke to the gate house only to learn that they had long since left the base. Turning his eyes to look down at Ray, Hannell screamed his frustration. The lawyers had left in a hurry and one had, he realised now, very strangely been asking him somewhat inappropriate questions as he left. Had he been forced to draw his attention away from Clarke? He had to find out what had happened inside the cell.

Calling to a colleague to alert the base commander of the escape and to call an ambulance, Hannell knelt down at Ray’s side.

“Sir, can you hear me?” he asked, shaking his shoulder gently.

Awake all along, albeit still slightly woozy from the blow, Ray groaned softly at the sound of his voice.

“Sir?” he called again, this time louder.
“Yeah… yeah…” Ray replied, groggily as if waking to find himself seriously disorientated.
“I’ve called an ambulance for you,” the military police office stated, still trying to coax him to wake.
“Wha…?” Ray drawled. “What happened?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Ray pushed himself almost into a kneeling position, only to half collapse again down onto his elbows.

“Hey! Steady!” Hannell cried, helping Ray find his balance.

Ray turned his head to look at Hannell, his eyes screwed up as he squinted, hisexpression a mixture of pain and confusion.
“Where are my glasses?” he asked, referring to the fake ones he had worn to assist with Clarke’s disguise.
Hannell looked around, but they were nowhere in sight.
“I can’t see them, I’ll find them in a minute. What happened?”
“He had a gun,” Ray finally stated, his tone exhibiting his astonishment at the idea. “How did you not know he had a gun?”
“No,” Hannell argued, “there’s no way he had a weapon.”
“Really?” Ray snapped. “Then how do you account for this?” he added pressing his fingers lightly to the painful area behind his ear. Then, as if he had only just become aware, he let out a short gasp of surprise. “And… and he took my clothes!”

Ray pushed himself to his feet and staggered to a chair, flopping down heavily, willing his head to clear and the pain to subside.
“Where are the others?” he asked, turning a worried expression towards the sergeant.
“They got away,” Hannell replied dismissively. “What happened?”
“You mean, he got away. He took them with him?” he corrected. “He took them hostage?”
“He’s probably let them go by now.”
“I work with these guys! How can you be so flippant? Don’t you think you’d have heard from them if he had?”
“Fine, we’ll start a search, but first, tell me what happened.”
Ray sighed. “We walked in and you closed the door. Simon explained that he had been contacted by a member of his family and asked to represent him. He’d no sooner got the words out than Clarke had a gun on us.”
“Where did he have it hidden?”
“I’m not sure, I was getting the papers out of the briefcase. I think it was just in his pocket.” Ray shrugged indicating his uncertainty. “He had us all up against the wall. I was terrified, I thought he was going to kill us. Then he just cracked me over the head and that’s the last I remember. What do you know?”
Hannell frowned. “I didn’t suspect a thing. The three of you were in there about ten minutes then left. The short guy went off with the guy I thought was you while the lawyer almost pulled me aside as we walked and asked me some odd questions before he left too.”
Ray heaved a sigh.
“I guess he had the gun on John and made Simon distract you so he could get out.”
“Looks that way,” Hannell sighed. “I’ve raised the alarm but I suspect he’s long gone. It’s going to have to be handed over to the state police to find him now.”
“Sergeant,” a voice called from the corridor as another military police officer approached the cell. “There’s been a call from John Brooke and Simon Mellor, Clarke’s lawyers.”
“Are they all right?” Ray cut in, concerned.
“Yes, Sir,” the officer replied. “They said Clarke ditched them and drove off. They’ve only just got to a phone.”
“Where are they?” Ray asked urgently.
“They’ve gone back to their office,” the newcomer replied.
“I’ve called an ambulance for you,” Hannell reminded him. “They’re fine, but we have to make sure you are.”
“Please,” Ray argued, “I have to make sure they’re all right and let them know I am.”
“I have a lot of questions for you,” Hannell replied shaking his head.
“Come on sergeant, you know where I work, you can contact me any time.”
“All right, but we’ll have to get you some clothes and I’ll arrange for you to be driven.”
“Thank you,” Ray replied gratefully.

*

Having driven to a quiet underpass, Frank and Mikey had each removed one of the fake license plates from above the real ones on the car before driving on to the rendezvous point: the top floor of a large ten storey parking garage for an out of town shopping mall.

The overbearing stillness in the car allowed the sound of the engine pinging lightly as it cooled to invade the two men’s thoughts before Frank finally broke the silence.

“So,” he ventured, “tell me about your girlfriend.”
Mikey smiled. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”
“How ‘ex’?”
“Oh, believe me, she’s ‘ex’, very ‘ex’!”
“Why?”
“Why do you want to know?” Mikey asked; his tone more curious than suspicious.
Frank shrugged. “We’ve got time to kill until Ray gets here.”
“What do you want to know?” Mikey asked distractedly.
“Why did you split up?”
Mikey took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“That’s a good question,” he sighed. “And if I was certain of the answer, I’d tell you.”
“Arguments? Affair? Want different things? Couldn’t commit?” Frank offered.
“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, “all of those, but nothing in particular.”
“What did you argue about, then?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mikey shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really care. I spent our whole relationship just going through the motions, assuming things would get better if I put the effort in.”
“And did they?” Frank asked sympathetically.
Mikey shook his head sadly. “No, because that was the main problem; it always felt like an effort. It was never easy or fun. I always begrudged giving my time up for her. And you know, I wanted to feel bad about it, but I just didn’t.”
“It sounds familiar,” Frank replied tentatively.
Mikey glanced at Frank briefly, at first uncertain over what he meant.
“Oh, no,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that.”
“I went through the same thing,” Frank pointed out in an attempt to reassure him.
“I… no. It’s not like that, really. We just didn’t get on.”
“Okay,” Frank nodded. “It’s different.”
“Yeah,” Mikey confirmed.
“Why are you telling me?” Frank asked.
Mikey’s brow furrowed at the odd question. “Because you asked me.”
“It’s easy to talk with me?”
“Oh,” Mikey nodded, “clever! I told you…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Frank nodded. “You told me. It’s not like that. In fact, I forced you to talk to me.”
“How do I know you’re not going to flick that switch and kill Gerard if I don’t?”
Frank let out a short laugh. “You don’t really think that.”
“You’ve threatened me, you’ve threatened him and…”
“What if I told you I’ve never killed anyone?”
“I don’t believe you,” Mikey replied with a frown.
“Why? Would you do it?”
“No!” Mikey replied quickly, shocked by the idea.
“So what makes you think I could?”
“I don’t go around threatening people,” Mikey snapped in reply. “Or kidnapping them!”
“No. You have relationships with people you don’t care about. I’d say that was harder and harsher than anything I do!”

Mikey paused for a few moments as he considered Frank’s words.
“So, do you mean to say that you won’t actually kill Gerard?”

Frank stared back contemplating what to say. He wanted so much for the plan to go without a hitch, but so much had gone wrong already. He also wanted Mikey and felt closer now than he had ever felt to him. The chances still seemed very slim, but it seemed to him that he had found a dent in Mikey’s armour. Was it possible that he could break through?
If he said he would kill Gerard, Mikey would doubt and fear him. If he said he wouldn’t, Mikey may try to escape. Frank sighed and allowed his shoulders to drop as he considered the two miserable options. Who was he kidding? Mikey would make a run for it; there was no doubt in his mind.

“Well?” Mikey pushed.
Frank delved into his pocket and retrieved the fake trigger mechanism. Holding his hand out, he offered the black box to Mikey.
“It doesn’t do anything,” he announced.
“You’re letting me go?” Mikey asked, his voice heavy with uncertainty.
“Not exactly,” Frank replied carefully.

“That went really well!” Ray announced as he pulled open the door and slid into the back seat.
“Ray!” Frank replied, flustered by his sudden appearance.
“Are you okay?” he asked with concern before turning his gaze to Mikey. “How come he’s not wearing handcuffs?”
“We… we’ve just been chatting,” Frank replied.
“That’s sweet,” Ray commented dryly as he stepped out of the car again. Opening the passenger door, Ray leaned across Mikey and took the proffered handcuffs from Frank.
“Hands,” Ray ordered.
Reluctantly, Mikey placed his hands behind him and allowed Ray to secure the cuffs on his wrists. Keeping his eyes lowered, Mikey refused to catch Frank’s eye as he stared at him.
“It’s getting late, we should head back,” Frank finally announced with a slight sigh as Ray returned to his seat.