Read C.T. Brown - Second Time Lucky? for Free Online Page B

seat. While they seemed surprised, neither
looked as worried as Sanderson would have liked. Sanderson signalled one of his
men who turned and trained his gun on the open front of the shop across the
road. Apart from some staring there was no real reaction from it's patrons, it took more than an armed hold up to get a
reaction in south London. If there was going to be a reaction it was far more
likely to be interest in watching the show than any sort of confrontation.
    "Get
out of the car." Sanderson signalled with his gun toward the darkened
frontage of the bank the car had pulled up beside. "Over there. Both of you. Now."
    Slowly
the driver's door of the Focus opened and the woman stepped out, both she and
the academic then crossed the path to stand in front of the cashpoint machines
set into the bank's window. Quickly Sanderson and two of his men lined up in
front of them, guns levelled at their heads. It was at this point that
Sanderson got his first inkling that something might be wrong. The academic
looked relaxed, a faint smile on his face while his companion seemed completely
uninterested in anything beyond her fingernails, not exactly normal reactions
to being ambushed at gunpoint. Moving closer to the academic Sanderson tried to
shake off his concerns and, in the same voice he'd used to order about new
recruits before his enforced exit from the army, barked, 'You will come with
us, our boss has a job for you. If you refuse the woman will be killed.'
    The
response this provoked from his two captives was not what Sanderson expected,
the academic and the woman turned to look at each other and, after attempting
to fight it for a moment, both burst out laughing. Sanderson's reaction was
immediate, he moved forward until the barrel of his automatic was pressed
against the academic's forehead. The laughing stopped and for a moment
Sanderson relaxed. His moment of relaxation ended as the academic's shin made
contact with his groin, hard. There was a sharp intake of breath and then
Sanderson dropped to his knees, his eyes watering from the pain, and slowly
toppled sideways clutching himself. Through a tear-blurred haze Sanderson
watched the two men who had also been covering his captives drop to the ground,
one with the black plastic handle of a knife projecting from his chest and the
other with his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Turning his gaze to the one
remaining upright member of his team Sanderson was just in time to see him hit
in the face by something that looked like a high-heeled shoe, the man then
staggered backwards onto the road and into the path of a speeding, bright green
Honda Civic that appeared to have been covered with every shiny decal available
anywhere. It did not even pause as the man tumbled through the air until he hit
the road surface with an unpleasantly squelchy noise.
    Luckily
for Sanderson the pain in his groin was beginning to subside so he reached for
his gun which lay on the ground nearby, unluckily the woman saw this first and
the heel of her remaining shoe created a new source of pain when it was stamped
down on his hand. Before he could react to the crushed bones and punctured skin
he felt her other, unshod, foot come down on the back of his head. He could
feel blood running down the side of his face as his face bounced back up from
the pavement but didn't have time to find out how serious his latest injury was
before he found his own gun pointing directly at his face. Sirens were
approaching but the gun did not waver, it was as if the woman did not care that
the police would soon be on the scene. 'Now then,' she leaned forward slightly
as she spoke, 'I think it might be a good idea if we had a little discussion
about why you were so stupid as to try and kidnap my husband and I with only a
four man team, don't you?'

 
    Sitting
in the grey interview room at a plain wooden table on a metal chair that was very
securely bolted to the floor the academic reflected that the evening had