Two Brilliant (standard:adventure, 20070 words)
Author: AxelinSecret	Added: Jan 20 2008	Views/Reads: 3676/3565	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
“Ahh but you are forgetting mate, see that maybe what she wants – nothing lasts forever. Here’s a nickel’s worth of advice that I’m going to give you for free, it is better to die on your feet then to live on your knees,” he shrugged his shoulders, “And i

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And I make a habit of making anything done by people like you my 
business.” “What are you? The police?” Mitch said with panic clear in 
his voice. “No,” Mitch relaxed, “If I was a cop you'd be safer, you'd 
have rights, and you would be innocent until proven guilty.” Mitch's 
associate fidgeted uneasily, “Not in my court. I've seen the evidence 
and you don't deserve to have rights.” He sounded firm and dangerous 
but with a hint of apology as though he was sorry for them that they 
had to live as themselves, Mitch, in a desperate attempt to save 
himself from this stranger, threw a punch. The man caught it and with a 
sharp crack brought his arm down on his leg. Withdrawing his arm 
protectively to cradle it near his chest, Mitch whimpered at the odd 
angle it was at, the pain and the embarrassment. The man looked down at 
him in disgust. “Pathetic,” he spat. He looked towards the other man, 
but he had already abandoned his friend, terrified for his own safety. 
The man stretched a gentle hand towards the girl and they tore off at a 
run, hand in hand, through the dark alleyways of Sydney. “Thankyou,” 
she said as she began to recover. “That's all right, love to be of 
help! Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!” He let go of her hand and 
turned to face her as they walked, “Ooooo that looks like a nasty bump 
on your head, you sure you're okay?” “I'm fine.” She said smiling, “I 
was lucky.” She looked at him more closely. He was about 6 ft 2, maybe 
less, with brown hair and big brown eyes. Good looking but rugged, his 
beard was a day old and his hair was thick and messy. He was dressed 
simply in jeans and a t-shirt with a blazer over top. He looked early 
30's. “And your name is?” he prompted in a friendly way to over come 
the awkward pause. “Belle,” she answered, “Isabella Saunders.” “Ahh, 
Beautiful Defender,” he opened his eyes wide as though thinking deeply, 
“Good choice! Name's are fascinating, I have such fun picking one.” 
“Picking one?” "Of course!” he said smiling and circling her so she had 
to turn to see where he was, “But there are so many out there and I 
thought I would mix it up a bit, have a few - live on the edge - 
predictable? Never describe me as predictable Belle, never!" he stopped 
beside her and they continued walking. “Dizzy?” he asked as they neared 
the end of the street. “Yup,” she replied grinning at him, she thought 
for a second and said, “What you said to Mitch,” he looked at her 
waiting for her to continue, “What did you mean?” he smiled and looked 
pained but replied “My life is complicated, I can't explain it to you,” 
he looked into the distance, “Well, I could I guess, but it wouldn't 
make much sense as I can't even begin to understand it myself.” He 
rubbed his stubble, “I do my best at what I'm good at.” He nodded, as 
though that explained everything. Her place was ahead, they stopped at 
the corner to her street. “Goodbye.” He said with a grin and a wave. 
“Goodbye,” she called at his withdrawing figure, “And thanks!” “Don't 
mention it.” He said and waved again. She smiled and then yelled, “Who 
are you?” He looked close to tears as he turned back towards her and 
continuing his retreat, shouted, “I don't know!” 

Chapter 2 – The Consequences 

A group of images spun and distorted. A flash of yellowing teeth and a
disfigured arm rocked back and forth past. A harsh cackling echoed and 
lengthened and became a horrible soundtrack for the irremovable panic 
and fear. She ran, as hard and as fast as she could but movement failed 
her, this time she wouldn't be saved, this time no one was going to 
help her. She woke with a start. Her sheets were drenched in sweat and 
her thoughts still trying to collect into a sound order. “A nightmare”, 
she breathed out a sigh of relief, “it had been just a dream”. She 
hadn't told anyone what had happened. She couldn't bring herself to 
discuss it. And she agreed with The Stranger, they didn't deserve the 
rights of an arrest. She sat up in bed, rubbed her face, trying to 
discard the memories from her mind. She let herself fall backwards, 
making a slight fwump as her body hit the mattress. The fact that she 
had been so close to being raped scared her. More then scared her, it 
terrified her. She had always thought she could look after herself – 
that if something like that ever happened to her she would be able to 
put up a fight and defend herself. And now, she felt weak – she felt 
like a damsel in distress that had only been saved because of her 
knight in shining armour. Belle had never thought she was the kind that 
needed saving. And now that entire theory was in tatters. She looked 
out the window, through the not properly tilted blinds, at the sky. It 
would be alright; she thought as she began to drift peacefully off to 
sleep, I'll be fine in the morning. 

Chapter 3 – Sacrifice 

The streets of Sydney spaghetti towards Hyde Park, where they became a
mess of grey lines and green patches. Darling Harbour is on the left, 
Circular Quay is on the right and the cross city trains career past on 
their designated tracks. Standing, swaying slightly with the motion of 
the train, Belle felt oddly at ease. She could do this, it had to be 
done, her life had to return to normal and this was a normal day. The 
train halted at Museum station and passengers stood up and left. She 
took the chance to sit on a vacated seat and waited patiently for the 
train to continue. One more stop to go, she thought absently, as the 
train lurched into action again. Belle worked in a small shop in the 
inner city, just a clothes store in the Victoria Albert, over from Pitt 
Street, it wasn't special, but it was her life. St. James' station, she 
hopped out and walked along St. James' Road, up Elizabeth Street and 
along Martin's Place. She turned right and walked down Pitt Street. She 
turned into Rowe Street, which curves into Less Crescent – she always 
took the short cut so she could double back and drop into the State 
Kiosk for breakfast. She shivered in the shadow of the towering 
buildings above her. It was cold; the radio forecast had said 2 
degrees. She snuggled further into her jacket. She walked past a woman 
carrying an armful of papers. Struggling, but managing to keep them 
balanced, she shared a sympathetic smile with her and carried on. 
Hoisting her handbag up over her shoulder she turned the corner. An arm 
shot out and grabbed her, a hand clamped over her mouth and the other 
clamped around her waist to stop her from getting away; she kicked out 
with panic but they had her tightly gripped. The assailant dragged her 
back into the darkness. The sounds of the city died. Before she had 
been able to hear traffic lights going, cars revving and snatches of 
chit-chat floating intermittently through the air. Now only the 
infrequent car horn could be heard from the alley she was being dragged 
down. Belle thought about the irony of how your life could appear to be 
going so well and then one day... She felt very detached from it. They 
weren't her feet bumping along the pavers; it wasn't her life in 
jeopardy. Her world, the real world was something entirely different. 
This wasn't her world. The sounds disappeared completely and the 
attacker came to a halt. He pulled her up and let go of her. She turned 
to face him. “You scared the crap out of me!” she managed to say after 
the shock had died down. The stranger from last night, the man without 
a name stood in front of her. “I'm sorry.” He said, but he didn't look 
it, he looked jumpy. “After what happened last night? Far out, my 
hearts going crazy! Are you crazy?” she put her hand over her heart as 
though she was trying to calm it down. “I have to tell you something.” 
“Why couldn't you do it like a normal person and ring me?” she said, 
still with hand over heart. He looked worried, as though the thing he 
wanted to say wasn't going to go down well. He exhaled and licked his 
lips, “You're being watched.” Her eyes widened and she swallowed, “A 
group of people are planning an attack”, he explained. Belle put her 
hand on the back of her neck and ran her fingers over her spine. “What 
sort of an attack?” He gave her a look. “Damn.” She said as she 
realised. “They are planning a ransom situation, holding an entire 
building ransom against the government.” He cleared his throat. “I 
don't know where and I don't know when.” “What do they need me for?” 
she asked completely stunned. “You are going to be the person they grab 
to make sure their exit isn't stopped.” He grabbed at his lips with his 
hand and pressed them together, “You are going to be their exit 
hostage.” “Should I leave the city then? Should we go to the police? I 
mean, this is a bit more then three rapists, we can't just expect to be 
able to handle this on our own.” He put a hand on her shoulder as she 
bit her lip, “I've been watching you, and you're safe.” “You expect me 
just to go back out there?” she screamed at him, “Just go back out 
there and pretend that everything's ok? Well it's not ok!” angry tears 
ran down her face and she wiped them away in fury, “I have a life, it 
may not be great but it's okay. They might kill me. How can you 
possibly ask me to go back out there?” She walked away for a bit and 
then stomped back in fury; her hands were tightly clenched fists. He 
looked into her eyes, “She isn't angry”, he thought, “She's just 
scared”. He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a while. Her 
sobs thinned and he held her at arm's length and wiped a tear off her 
cheek. “I've got your back.” He smiled and she smiled a crinkly wet 
smile in return. She took a long and ragged breath in, wiped the rest 
of her tears away and turned and walked back towards the street. 

Chapter 4 – No Bravery 

A beam of sunlight managed to make its way between buildings until it
shone starkly into an otherwise darkened alley. The contrast between 
this beam and its surroundings bothered the inhabitants of this lane, 
not acclimatised to living in light. Dust motes lazed their way through 
it and were disturbed by Belle as she made her way past something else. 
He thought to himself that for a moment, as she passed through this 
sunlight, she shone with a courage he would never understand. To trust 
in someone so completely, a stranger who she didn't even know the name 
of astounded him. She had no details, no clue as to what was going to 
happen and she had still managed to walk out of this lane, the only 
truth in her mind was that he was the only one to keep her safe. 
“Measured against her”, he thought to himself, “I have no bravery, none 
at all. I have done things in my life that she couldn't even believe, 
but I have always known the details – never been ignorant, never put 
complete trust in someone, anyone before”. For all his experiences and 
travelling had scarred him; he had seen too much of the bad in people; 
he would never be able to do what she had done. Would he be able to 
protect her? He had no idea; everything he knew, he knew without 
knowing how he'd learnt it. As if he had started life with an old man's 
wisdom. What did he believe in? He had asked himself this question so 
many nights, for so many years – what kept him going had been the small 
and incredible acts of human kindness that he had seen, but that wasn't 
something to believe in, something to believe in would be something he 
always trusted to be right, to know that his faith wasn't misplaced – 
he had never met anything like that. He smiled, “now I have something 
to believe in”, he thought to himself, “her! “ 

Chapter 5 – Rehearsed 

The sound tore the air, a low and rumbling noise which made your torso
quiver and gave you a weak feeling in the pit of your stomach. The 
smell was thick and oily – it clung to every part of the body and made 
the head spin, but worse was the taste, having it inside your mouth and 
knowing it was being breathed in spread an unhealthy feeling through 
you. It was ugly, something that was never meant to exist, manufactured 
not created, the difference was all too clear, and when Belle put her 
hand out to grasp hold of the railing a small, sticky and round object 
was waiting for her palm. There was just something about buses that had 
always repulsed her, whether she had had a bad experience on one or it 
was something she'd been told she couldn't remember. She would always 
avoid them if possible. Though it seemed like, for the past week, she 
had been living someone else's life – every movement she made or 
anything she said was this other person's that she was pretending to 
be. Because she knew sooner or later it would all collapse, as if in a 
great prelude to disaster where nothing mattered. A registered parcel 
had failed to be delivered to her house while she'd been busy 
sleepwalking through life and not home to sign for it; she was on her 
way to the airport to retrieve it. Belle looked at her watch, not 
taking in the time until a few seconds after she looked away. 10:24 am; 
it was the 11th of July, her birthday in just under a week, maybe the 
parcel was an early gift. The bus exited the highway and pulled into 
the airport, pulling up in the standing bay. Belle was first off the 
bus, walking at a steady pace into the airport; she walked towards a 
service desk and waited behind a couple who were being served. Gazing 
out the enormous glass windows at the sky she noticed a flock of birds 
dive; she followed them as the swooped lower and lower and then arched 
up. She smiled and looked out across the flat car park. A black smudge 
appeared on the horizon, in fact as Belle watched she noticed 4 similar 
black smudges approaching at quite a speed. As they came closer their 
outlines became more distinct and with a sudden and clanging 
realization she understood why they were carrying guns. Why they were 
all wearing balaclavas and why they were all running towards this 
building. It had started. People around her started to notice as well, 
a wave of silence slowly enveloped the entire terminal as the men stood 
guard outside the building, making sure no one tried to escape. A 
middle aged lady began to laugh but stopped when she realised no one 
else was. An American man said to his wife in a whisper which echoed 
throughout the room, “They're probably making a movie.” Someone dropped 
a bag, a baby began to cry. Everyone looked at everyone else, trying to 
find someone who doubted what was happening, but no one there was that 
naïve. One of the terrorists cocked his gun and shot three bullets into 
the airport. The first shattered the glass window, the second a 
florescent tube light hanging from the roof, which spat and sizzled and 
fell. The third hit a young man wearing a Hawthorn football team jersey 
and cap. He fell to the ground and didn't get up. Chaos erupted; people 
ran screaming and didn't know what to do. They ran to try and find 
exits but they were all cut off. Belle stood in the middle of this and 
watched the men; they didn't move from their post or attack anyone 
else. A frightened voice came over the loud speaker, a woman quite 
young and quite terrified said, “Please remain calm,” she breathed in, 
a ragged breath and sniffed, “There has been a large amount of bombing 
devices placed within this airport,” she began to cry, “They will blow 
them up if anyone tries to leave or if anyone attacks one of their men. 
We will not be killed if our government will pay what they ask. Please 
do not panic.” As she broke down in tears they cut the message. “So 
that was what they wanted”, Belle thought, “Money! They were willing to 
sacrifice 15 000 people for a quick buck. It's disgusting.” She walked 
along beside the wall and turned into a corridor.  Everywhere she 
looked were people crying and on mobile phones. She saw a familiar 
figure walking past and she ran towards him, along the escalator which 
sped her up enough that she was able to catch hold of his blazer and 
pant a little bit as she recovered. 

Chapter 6 – Who Are You? 

He held her while she got her breath and she looked up at him and
grimaced, “I found you.” He gently let go of her as she stood up 
straight and then he grabbed hold of her hand. “I thought I was 
supposed to be following you!” he said shaking his head and laughing, 
“Oh well, come on.” “Where are we going?” she asked as they walked up 
and down corridors. “Well,” he said suddenly in a very talkative mood, 
“They were just about to have the people at Gate 4 board the plane when 
all this big hoo ha happened and they all ran off like headless 
chickens, bit unlucky timing really – they'd been waiting for over an 
hour. Any way, the plane is all hooked up, the passage is connected and 
the men in black have already cleared this area out – and why should 
people come back here? There is absolutely nothing to tempt them, no 
vending machines, no news agencies or cafés. But there is one hell of a 
hiding place if you have a helpful, attractive young hostage which you 
need to put out of sight.” He grinned at her, “Flight BS111 from Sydney 
to Sydney now boarding!” he motioned with his hand towards the door way 
that led into the plane, “After you.” There was something about his 
mood which was infectious and Belle thought about all the other people 
who were still potential hostages with a huge stack of guilt at her own 
high spirits. Moving her head around to look at him behind her, he 
seemed preoccupied as well. He noticed her gaze and smiled back, but it 
didn't reach his eyes, she nodded her understanding and turned back 
towards the front. The door to the plane was open, but the usual 
stewardess was absent – she was about to step through when he grabbed 
her arm, but her foot was already in the air, her weight already 
leaning forward. She came into the plane and the picture before her 
turned her world upside down. They were not alone. It took her 5 
seconds to figure out what had happened, it seemed so simple now she 
wondered how she had been fooled. The plane was a trap, it had about 20 
of the terrorists inside and space had been left for others. She 
couldn't believe he had betrayed her, Belle turned to look at him; his 
face was distorted by a sneer. “How could you.” She whispered darkly at 
him and then pleading, “I trusted you!” “Your loss, it made it so much 
easier.” He said shrugging his shoulders. “You saved me from those 
men.” She said trying to piece things together but knowing they didn't 
fit. “We'd put so much effort into finding someone like you, didn't we 
boys?” he paused and there were a couple of calls of agreement, “We 
didn't want to lose you – I had to protect you until we needed you.” A 
man walked over towards her and brushed a stray golden curl from out of 
her face and behind her ear. “We needed someone who the country would 
value, someone the world would get angry over their death, someone 
beautiful, smart, Australian, funny and happy with life, someone who 
the government would thing twice about being an unlucky casualty in the 
greater picture of arresting us, someone who could spread guilt.” “They 
must have been thin on the ground.” She replied curtly. “Indeed. 
Please” said this new man, “Make yourself comfortable”. She raised an 
eyebrow, but accepted the offer and sat. He sat down beside her and 
handcuffed one of her wrists quickly to the chair, “Don't want you 
having to leave anytime soon.” He said and then turned to the man whom 
Belle had thought she could trust. “How long have they got to make the 
payment, Jake?” He glanced at his watch, “Twenty one minutes,” he said. 
“Looks like we're in for a wait then.” “Here he is,” Belle thought 
cynically, “The real knight, only saving my life for personal gain.” 
She covered her mouth as she realized her own fault, “I'm too trusting, 
too believing, too naïve!” she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her 
ear as it fell in front of her face. She yanked hopelessly at the cuffs 
which shackled her to the chair. “He doesn't even look regretful,” she 
thought looking over at ‘Jake' who was scowling into the distance, 
“Just another victim, that's all I am – another victim that needs 
saving. I hate it!” She looked around the room again; no one was going 
to save her this time. It was her dream all over again and this time 
she wasn't going to wake up. “I guess it's down to me.” She whispered 
so that it didn't reach her ears but was lost as soon as it left her 
lips. There was silence as they all thought their own thoughts, two men 
started up a game of cards in the back and Jake stayed standing. “How 
much?” Belle suddenly said, they all looked at her confused, “How much 
are you asking for, to spare 15 000 people's lives?” “1.” Answered the 
man sitting next to her, “A round million, seems about right, don't 
it?” All she could bring herself to do was nod. This entire effort 
people put into making their life valuable and in the end that was all 
anyone was worth. $62.50, not even a hundred dollars, they'd be willing 
to kill 15 000 people at a price per head of $62.50, it made her sick. 
Belle looked over at the man she now knew was Jake, he didn't look like 
a Jake but that was what the other guy had said. Their eyes caught and 
held for a moment, he seemed to be pleading with her, not sure whether 
or not she had understood what he was doing, he tried again, he hadn't 
betrayed her, he was betraying them, this organization had needed 
destruction for a while and it seemed impermeable from the outside. He 
had told her what he did, he made this stuff his business because if he 
didn't no one else would. He needed her to understand if they were both 
going to escape from this. She smiled back at him, a smile of relief 
and rediscovered trust. 

Chapter 7 – The Scary Part 

A cold westerly wind blew across from the Pacific between the large
green golf course and the National park and into the bay. It suddenly 
changed direction and headed north, rising and falling, swirling and 
spiralling. The wind twisted towards the building and then grew in 
strength until it hit the windows of a parked airplane, making the 
windows shake, it swept over the smooth surface and carried on as 
though the plane wasn't even there. One of the men playing cards was 
sitting in the window seat. “Hey Steve, best move out soon. It sounds 
like there could be heavy winds moving in.” The man sitting beside 
Belle stood up, walking over to look out a window, he shouted across to 
a man on a laptop. “They made the deposit yet?” he asked him, “No, and 
they only have eight minutes left.” “What's the current weather 
forecast?” “Fine, it says it will be fine.” The techie said as the wind 
became louder. Steve stood still, everyone watched to see what his 
decision was. “Send them a message; tell them we've cut their time. In 
five minutes we're leaving.” Everyone nodded and a few of them finished 
off the last of their beers. “Guys, get things ready for leaving. As 
soon as the five minutes is up we're leaving, with or without the 
money.” Belle looked up as she knew what would happen if the money 
wasn't paid, turning her head back down she continued working with her 
hairpin in the lock on her handcuffs, she had been at it for about two 
minutes, but it wouldn't work. She took out a nail file with a hook on 
the end and tried that, still no luck. She took to it with the hairpin 
again this time success! With a click she was free. She checked to see 
what ‘Jake' was doing and saw that he was still looking at her. He 
looked down at his watch, looked around at the men and then nodded – 
you can stand up the nod said. She did so, quite hesitantly, everyone 
around her was moving up and down the plane, busy with preparations and 
checks. She went to stand by ‘Jake', who was still standing by the 
door, watching the men. A shout of surprise surfaced as Steve noticed 
she wasn't secured. He looked from her face to ‘Jake's', to hers and 
then again to ‘Jake's'. He didn't look up from his watch. “You double 
crossed me!” shouted Steve, small bits of spittle accentuating each 
syllable. He picked up a gun that was lying on a chair. He levelled it 
at their heads. “I'm going to shoot the hell out of you!” he said 
“Don't you think we should be doing something?” Belle whispered, Steve 
trained the gun on her and she stopped talking. “But first I'm going to 
blast your little girlfriend.” He looked up briefly from his watch, for 
a moment scared, but returned his gaze to the face without saying a 
word. It wasn't as frightening as she had thought it would be, having 
the gun barrel shoved in her face, how could that thing possibly hurt 
someone? She raised her eyebrows at him. “You can't kill me, you need 
me.” She said. “I think I'm over needing anyone.” He said and fired. He 
turned away, satisfied, back towards men and bowed, “That is how it's 
done.” None of his men said anything and a slight cough from behind him 
made him turn. “Blanks,” said ‘Jake', as he looked at the wide-eyed but 
very much alive, Belle. Steve looked at the gun and chucked it away as 
useless. “Someone please shoot them!” he yelled, furious – everything 
was going wrong! Only one man moved to cooperate, he held his arm up 
and was trying to steady the barrel when his eyes rolled to the back of 
his head and he crumpled to the floor. All the other men were already 
on the floor. “You drugged them,” Belle said, quite relieved that she 
hadn't been shot. Steve was still standing. “Yup,” he said, finally 
looking up from his watch, “I was a tad worried, they lasted longer 
then I expected. Good old Chloral Hydrate! It'll never let you down!” 
he grinned at her and she smiled back. “Well, strictly speaking,” he 
stopped and looked at the roof as though it helped him to think, “It's 
actually trichloroacetaldehyde monohydrate, 2, 2, 2-trichloro-1, 
1-ethanediol.” He looked back at her and filled his mouth with air 
before letting it out, “But only geeks would call it that.” Belle shook 
her head and laughed. “I am so going to kill you,” said Steve his voice 
dripping with hate, “You ruined everything!” “How are you going to kill 
us?” he said, his voice turning dark, “Face it, all that you had – this 
entire plan you created rested solely upon weapons and people's fear of 
them.” He shook his head as though he couldn't believe it, “For money, 
you played on people's fear for money. You can't kill us, there isn't a 
bullet in any gun within a one kilometre radius,” he stopped and turned 
to Belle with a goofy smile back on his face, “And come on, you got to 
admit that bullets are the scary part.” 

Chapter 8 – Searching 

The lights from the police cars created eerie strobe lighting as the
sirens were turned off and people with thick soled boots marched 
quickly to the belated rescue. The young and inexperienced decided to 
make tea, partly because their mothers had told them it was good for 
shock and partly to make themselves busy – the tea was helping, the 
rescue was too late. Paramedics rushed past with thermal blankets 
wrapped protectively around shocked families and friends who had seen 
the bigger picture and were terrified. Only one person had been killed. 
The young boy in the AFL jersey, his name was Ben and he was fourteen 
years old. Apparently, according to police officials and according to 
him it could have been much worse; Belle thought this was bad enough. 
They'd restrained Steve and marched him out, after binding the 
unconscious men and leaving them in the plane. As they passed by, 
people in the halls had seen them and an unspoken understanding had 
made them follow. When they reached the lobby a second wave of silence 
rushed the crowd, this was made of hope rather then fear. Passing Steve 
to Belle to look after, the man, the stranger, the rescuer, the knight 
and the friend had stepped forward, he had raised his hands above his 
head, not in a surrender – but in a way that said, go on – shoot me, I 
don't think you can! He yelled out to the assembled criminals, “You are 
finished, here is the leader of your group.” He gestured back at Steve 
who Belle had pushed to his knees, “Drop your weapons!” They began to 
lower their guns and he turned back to the crowd. Two men took shots at 
his exposed back. There was no bang, no bullets, a small clicking sound 
and that was all. “You are free to leave.” He had said without turning 
around from the crowd. Two friends walked away from the scene of terror 
behind them, from the panic stricken flyers and the penny snatchers 
shouting for compensation and the crying. She couldn't bear the crying. 
“I understand.” She said when the sounds were more distant but still 
audible. She turned to face him, nodding and smiling, “You do the best 
at what you're good at.” She stopped walking and he did too, two 
friends staring out to the distance, “And what you're good at is being 
a hero,” she laughed, “A knight.” “I don't think so...” he began to say 
but was cut off. “But I do,” she bit her lip, “Who are you?” He looked 
away from her again and mulled over it then began to speak. “I woke up, 
six years ago, in a house that I didn't recognize. I looked around, not 
sure what was going on and I opened a drawer.” He held out his hands 
slightly upturned and looked down at them, “I saw these hands, opening 
the drawer, doing what I told them to and I had this feeling that they 
weren't mine. I found a mirror and I didn't know who it was looking 
back at me – I tried speaking but not even my voice made any 
connection.” He cleared his throat, “I searched the entire house, 
looking for some sort of identification – anything to tell me who I 
was. Guess what I found?” Belle shook her head. “Letters, bills, 
envelopes.  All this mail was dumped into a white paper bin in a study 
and it was all addressed to the same building. The one I was in.” “What 
did they say?” “A name? Yeah they all had names on them, trouble was 
they were all different and none of them I had any memory of. I spent 2 
months trying to find out who I am but nothing came out of it.” He 
shrugged his shoulders, “I guess I'm still trying.” “But what about all 
this?” she said gesturing to the airport and the people sipping their 
drinks, “Surely you left a trace?” “Yeah, but it wasn't a good one.” He 
pressed his nose flat with his palm, “I know things, things that I 
shouldn't know and can't remember learning. I feel like I've only been 
alive six years but I have all this knowledge!” he looked frustrated 
and he tipped his head back, “And I don't know why.” “So what happens 
now?” she asked in a whisper which clung to the air and hung there, 
waiting for a reply that seemed an age in coming. “I leave,” he said 
eventually, “As if I was never here, to continue the search.” “Keep 
doing what you're good at.” She said his unspoken words, finishing off 
the sentence. She turned to him and looked into his deep brown eyes, 
“You don't trust anyone, do you?” “I trust you.” He said as though that 
was all he needed. “Maybe it is.” She thought “Come with me.” He said 
after some hesitation; he cleared his throat, “I was planning on going 
to London next and it's brilliant –you'd love it.” He stopped, before 
he got carried away. She smiled at him thanking and accepting his offer 
with that small mouth movement and by holding out her left hand. “I'd 
love to.” She said as he took hold of her hand and they walked together 
away from the mess behind them. 

Chapter 9 – You Don't Have To 

A swirl of movement and a flash of light filled the vast and cavernous
room. Each piece of the jigsaw weaved its own path, filling space that 
was previously emptied and eventually escaping the group. When amongst 
it, it seemed chaotic; a series of ad-lib motions, that only the 
uniform intent of the group kept it from destruction. When outside, 
when watching from above it appeared as an amazingly complex dance – 
choreographed to precision as everyone worked together to create a 
masterpiece, a machine with each person playing their role. Belle spun 
around Heathrow, trying to absorb all the foreign yet welcoming sights 
and sounds, then catching his hand in hers she gazed at the current 
that eddied past them as though they were an island and everyone else 
was the sea. He pulled her arm and they took off at a run, dodging the 
arrivals, departures and employees. Falling out the door they walked 
happily toward a Taxi rank and smiled as it began to rain. “Welcome to 
the English experience!” he said smiling and shaking his head, “They 
put effort in for you – this is a real downpour!” a taxi pulled up and 
they both ran through the puddles to it, hopping into the back. Belle 
scooted along the seat and he climbed in after, shaking out her hair 
when the door shut and the car took off. Belle saw her reflection in 
the rear-view mirror for the first time in days. Eeek! She thought to 
herself, trying and failing to fix her hair. “London please!” he said 
to the driver, not noticing Belle's sudden panic attack, “And then the 
Marriot.” They had left Sydney without as much as a goodbye to Belle's 
boss, let alone a suitcase. They'd just hopped on the first plane 
available and gone. The only things Belle had were in her handbag and 
the only things that he had brought were on his person. Belle was still 
in shock and he just kept looking at her and grinning, as if he was 
enjoying her sudden astonishment. “I've only been out of Australia 
once.” She said to him, “To New Zealand with a friend of mine.” “I 
can't imagine staying in one place for so long. There is so much to 
see!” he leaned across her and pointed out her window, “Look, up that 
way is Holland Park, and we should be coming across Hyde Park soon and 
St. James Park on my side. England is brilliant! It is all old 
buildings, underground trains, everything is so iconic!” He wound down 
the window and shouted out to the sky, “And then there is the rain!” 
Belle smiled and laughed as he came back in and shook his head like a 
dog, “Guess what? You're going to love this, guess what street we're 
on.” “I don't know, what street are we on?” she asked “Piccadilly! And 
that one back there was Regent Street and this one is Northumberland 
Avenue!” he smiled goofily, “Who do you want to be, the hat or the 
shoe?” “I'll go with the thimble.” “Oh, I wanted that!” he said with 
exaggerated distress, “You might want to look out your window in a few 
seconds.” “Why?” Belle asked already turning her head; he went to reply 
and couldn't think of how to say it so he didn't say anything but just 
smiled knowingly. They stopped at the end of the avenue and turned 
right. “Recognize anything?” he said as the cruised past the Thames, 
along the embankment. The Millennium Wheel sat in front of the Jubilee 
gardens. An overload of national icons hit her at once and her shell 
shocked face turned back towards him. He grinned at her and held her 
hand and she smiled and began to laugh. The cab pulled up outside the 
hotel and he paid the driver while Belle stepped out of the car and 
waited for him on the pavement. They went into the hotel and up to the 
reception desk when Belle suddenly felt guilty. “I can't let you pay 
for all this.” She suddenly realized, pulling him off to the side, 
“You've paid for my air fare and this is a 5 star hotel, I have a job – 
I don't earn much, but I can't let you pay.” He rolled his eyes and 
smiled, “Don't worry; I don't earn any money at all. All this,” he 
gestured around the foyer, “Is paid for by my past. Don't feel guilty, 
it's a gift.” He led her over to the desk and the receptionist greeted 
him as an old friend. “John, it's nice to see you again, it's been much 
too long!” he smiled at her and she did a small flirty smile back. “We 
have your usual room free at the moment, but I'm afraid to tell you 
that's our last one.” She looked at Belle apologetically. “Oh that's ok 
Sarah, we're together.” He said, and the receptionist hid her surprise 
well. He took the key card off her and they went into the elevator. 
“John?” Belle asked. “One of my many identities in a world that expects 
titles.” He said with a tad of irritation. “Names are more then just 
titles though.” Belle contemplated, “They're allowing someone who means 
a lot to you, the chance to show they know you. Names will live on 
forever.” Belle shrugged, “Bit silly when people name their children 
before they're born.” The elevator opened and he held the doors open 
for her, “Thankyou.” “Pleasure.” He said following her out and they 
walked down the hall and were out of sight by the time the elevator 
doors juddered shut. 

Chapter 10 – Big Cheese 

“Right,” he said rubbing his hands and pressing his lips together, “I,
as the impeccably gallant male must insist you have the bed.” Belle 
flopped down on the couch and put her hands on her head, “You are being 
too good to me!” “I don't have many guests.” He said grinning. “It 
shows,” Belle laughed, “Tell you what; I'll rock-paper-scissors you for 
it.” “For the bed?” “No, to see which of us goes bungee jumping first. 
Yes for the bed!” she held out a clenched fist and they had a quick 
duel, “See, fate wanted you to have the bed. And you can't argue with 
fate.” He shook his head and hid his eyes as if he couldn't believe 
her, “True, alright – I cave. Go on, get freshened up and then we'll 
hit the town.” “Go paint it red.” She said standing up and heading 
towards the bathroom. He sat down onto the couch where she had been, 
wondering what he was thinking. He enjoyed her company, but why had he 
brought her into this? His world was not the place for her, he should 
have left her where she was safe, this was a purely selfish act, and he 
could not claim it to be anything else. Belle looked into the mirror 
and boosted her fringe up a bit with a comb and the hotel's shoddy hair 
dryer. Her curls she decided were a dead loss so she just ran a comb 
through them and re-applied her eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss. She 
looked down at what she was wearing; it had been winter in Sydney and 
it was summer here. She took off some layers; she had two pairs of 
stockings on as well as skivvies and her dress and jacket. She 
discarded the bottom skivvy, stockings and spencer and went with the 
smock dress, stockings, black skivvy and jacket. She pulled some faces 
in the mirror, pouted her lips, did a smile, flounced her hair a bit, 
then rolled her eyes at herself and stepped out of the bathroom. He 
stood outside waiting for her with his eyes looking at the carpet and 
his hands in his pockets. He glanced up when she came out and locked 
eyes with her, he was quiet and reserved, different to the bouncy 
maniac she knew him as. But just as quickly he was back, linking an 
elbow within the crook of her arm and squeezed her close. He then 
guided her out the door, locking it behind them. Borrowing an umbrella 
from the hotel they ventured out into the rain, walking to Sweetings, a 
restaurant, across the Thames and just up from London Bridge. It 
surprised Belle as she saw people rushing past – there seemed so many! 
Usually rain would deter people but not in London. Sydney had always 
seemed pretty historic, she had thought when she looked at the old 
buildings and she had lived down from the Rocks area so she liked the 
old bricks and ornate and intricate detailing on the tops of buildings 
around. But this was a whole new playing field, this was London and 
this took the cake. They arrived at Sweetings and he and Belle made 
their way to the counter, ordering some takeaway and waiting by the 
till. “Clive!” He said, as he recognised one of the customers and made 
his way over to the table, Belle following in his wake. A man looked up 
from his meal and his fork stopped en route to his mouth, held poised 
in the air as the man froze with shock, the food slowly sliding off. He 
went over and hit the man on the back - the man's gaze never dropped 
from his face. “You're back.” Clive said eventually. “Yup, yippee! 
Look, there is someone I'd like you to meet.” He reached out for 
Belle's arm and brought her forwards. Belle gave her best smile and 
extended a hand. Clive took it and shook it, “Belle Saunders.” She 
said. “Clive McGregor.” He looked from her to him and back again. “I've 
known you a while John and you've never taken anyone with you.” He 
replied by shrugging his shoulders. Clive raised his eyebrows, “There 
is going to be hell breaking loose now.” He lowered his voice, “I never 
thought you'd be stupid enough to come back.” “No rock left un-turned.” 
“That's the thing, you've turned this rock, you've dusted this rock for 
finger prints and run chemical and DNA scans on this rock – this rock 
is officially clean.” His face broke out in a smug grin, “You just like 
London.” “Maybe I do.” “So where are you from?” Clive said turning 
towards Belle. “Australia, Sydney.” Belle clarified. “And he just 
acquired you as he passed through.” “Yeah, something like that.” Belle 
said smiling. Clive started laughing and then turned back to him with 
disbelief in his eyes. “You selfish bastard! Do you know what kind of 
danger she's in? What the hell were you thinking? They're going to rip 
her to shreds.” Clive stood up and his chair knocked back with the 
movement. Belle was shocked at how furious he had suddenly become, she 
had thought they were friends but now looking on it seemed as if Clive 
detested him. “You've put her in a ridiculous amount of danger just for 
the pleasure of her company. John, I used to feel admiration for you!” 
Clive looked at him as if he was nothing and his face looked as if he 
felt the same way. John looked over at Belle with the most apologetic 
and accepting of guilt look she'd ever seen – he wasn't standing up for 
himself, she knew someone had to. “Now wait a minute, I agreed to come, 
I know what he does and I know it's not safe, so don't go laying into 
him – I'm not so naïve or ignorant as you might think!” Clive gave her 
a pitying look and she narrowed her eyes. The waitress called out that 
their order was up. They turned, took their orders and left the shop. 

Chapter 11 – Old Rivalry 

The phone picked up on the second ring. An accent impossible to place
spoke grouchily, “I told you don't ring unless it's important.” “It is 
important.” “Well, what is it – come on, come on speak!” “He's back.” 
“You sure?” “Yeah, and he has a girl with him.” The owner of the voice 
smiled, “Good, good. I'll handle everything. He'll be sorry.” The 
caller sneered, “Want me to do anything?” “Just keep me informed. So 
he's back? Interesting.” They both hung up. 

Chapter 12 – Numbers 

“So what about you?” He asked walking backwards, unable to take his eyes
off her face as they walked through Hyde Park and ate their dinner. 
“What about me?” she asked avoiding the question by taking a bite from 
her roll. “Well, you've heard my life story,” he tilted his head, 
“Short as it is. What about you?” “Well, my middle name's Elizabeth, my 
star sign is Cancer,” she reached into her pocket, “I have,” she 
counted the coins in her palm, “3 dollars and 80 cents on me. And when 
I was eight I broke my wrist.” She laughed, “No really, what do you 
want to know?” “I don't know, I guess no one knows what to say when 
people ask them who they are. I just think I should know who you are.” 
She paused for a moment, considering what made her who was, wanting to 
share as much as she could with him, “My favourite sight to see is when 
the sun is setting behind a cloud and the beams of light filter through 
and the sky is such a rich purple it gives everything that pink hue. My 
favourite sound is my mate Georgia's laughter,” she smiled, “It comes 
in peals and she unashamedly explodes wherever we are. I like to drink 
scolding hot soup and crunch on ice-blocks in between mouthfuls and I 
can tell you the names of our nearest stars and all the moons in the 
solar-system.” The rain became heavier and they went and sat under a 
tree, Belle surprised at how little she cared about sitting in the mud. 
Being threatened with a gun put things into perspective. “You must 
think you're a real ladies man.” She said laughing “Oh, you know – I 
just sweep them off their feet and out of the country.” He blew on his 
hand and brushed his lapel, shrugging his shoulders, shaking his head 
and acting mock modest, “What can I say? I am impressive.” Belle rolled 
her eyes, “Think what you like.” “I am impressive!” he insisted quite 
affronted “You wish.” A gun shot broke through the soft tattoo of rain 
with shocking clarity. They snapped their heads round and jumped up, 
chasing after the sound. They tore across the grass, through a garden 
until they stopped in a huge clearing. “It can't have been any further 
away then this.” Belle said looking around with both hands on her hips, 
struggling to get her breath back. “No, they must have shot straight up 
in the air and then run.” “Why would anyone just shoot and scarper? 
What's the point?” she looked out across to the trees as he began 
scanning the grass, “Unless they were trying to create a distraction.” 
“Yeah, that's what I was thinking, and then I changed by mind.” Picking 
up a small bullet casing he flicked on some specs and peered at it, 
“Now I'm thinking maybe less of a distraction and more of an 
attraction.” He snapped his glasses off and ran his hand through his 
messy hair and then brought it down his jaw, grinding his teeth with 
concentration. “There are some people who I really pissed off last time 
I was here.” Belle nodded, “They aren't nice people.” “Whoever shot 
that gun would have run straight for those trees.” Belle added. “Yeah, 
and I'm just thinking.” “About what exactly?” “What's the best course 
of action.” He tapped his finger against his lip. “I'd go with the 
quick approach.” Belle said He grinned and pointed a finger at her, 
“Brilliant, yes,” he grabbed hold of her arm, pulled up the sleeve of 
her skivvy and wrote down a number on it, “Run back to the hotel and 
call this person, explain what's going on and then get them to drive 
you where I'm going, they'll know where to go.” He started off at a 
jog, then turned around and chucked the key card at her, “See you 
later!” He ran off towards the trees and was lost out of sight. Belle 
looked around more closely and thought they must be in the North East 
corner, so she made her way down to Serpentine Road at a sprint and 
made her way across to Piccadilly. A cab drove past and she looked back 
at the pocket change, not enough for a ride on a bus let alone a cab 
and it wasn't even the right currency, but the cabby didn't know that 
and it was too far to run. She bit her lip and stuck out her arm, a 
taxi pulled up and she got in, “The Marriot please.” It felt better to 
run, the sense of urgency didn't drop as she sat in the back of the 
car, but she had no way to expel it except to tap her foot and ask the 
driver to hurry. She reached into her pocket as they were about to pull 
up to the curb as if reaching for money, when he'd nearly stopped she 
jumped out and ran down the street and pressed herself flat against the 
back of the building, waiting for him to leave. A screech of tyres, a 
slam of the vans doors sliding sideways, and then banging against the 
chassis funnelled down to reach Belle. Three figures making 
surprisingly little noise surrounded her as one grabbed her from behind 
and held a cloth to her face while she struggled against them. Her arms 
slackened and the world dissolved into a groggy blackness that precedes 
unconsciousness. They bundled her into the van and left the street with 
as much fan-fare as their arrival, a distant and angry yell from the 
Taxi driver was the last thing Belle heard before the drugs completely 
kicked in. Chapter 13 - Dripping 

Through the trees he ran snapping sticks and being whipped by branches,
putting on an added burst of speed as he saw them thin out ahead. If it 
was Liam, he was pretty set in his ways and chances were that he hadn't 
moved from his usual area. He seemed to be up to his old tricks and 
that was bad, very bad. Liam and his boys should have left when he'd 
told them. If they thought he was heavy last time that would look 
compassionate in comparison to what he was going to do now. He broke 
through the trees and turned right. Starting to run into the more 
suburban areas and up around the corner – his fringe was soaked by the 
rain and he flicked his head back every now and then when it fell into 
his eyes. He kept running, through street after street, searching for 
the house that wasn't a house. His breathing didn't falter and his 
strength did not desert him, though he must have run many kilometres 
from the park; by the time he arrived the sun was beginning its descent 
and the red tinge that blanketed the city seemed ironically 
appropriate. The house sat behind a thin garden which separated it from 
the street. The fence barely held the weeds captive as the thistles and 
spreaders strained against their bars, some pushing through and falling 
out onto the pavement. He fought his way through the gate, flinging it 
on its hinges and crashed his fist against the door. The door creaked 
open and he peered in, stepping into the hallway littered with paper 
and stained with alcohol and rubbish. He decided to go through each 
room, but they'd cleared everything out and squatters had been using it 
for a while. His brain began to itch, something didn't add up. Liam was 
still around and he would want revenge, but he wasn't here – he was 
methodical and twisted and cruel. Not the kind to just shoot you and 
get it over with. He was famous for psychological torture, for no other 
reason then fun. In the past he had tried to reason with Liam, but 
there wasn't enough human in him to reason with. “What did he know 
about Liam?” He asked himself as he paced up and down the hall. He's 
smart, persistent and not one to take kindly to negotiation. He brought 
a whole new perspective to, ‘it's my way or the highway'; if you knew 
Liam it was ‘his way or I'll make you kill your own family.' With a 
shocking realisation, he said out loud to himself, “Belle.” He exhaled 
it and left his mouth open for a moment afterwards disbelieving his own 
carelessness, “Oh, God.” He'd barely finished the sentence before he 
tore out of the house and across the road, diagonally cutting straight 
down to the hotel, removing the entire park. Ripping his mobile out of 
his jacket pocket he dialled the hotel. “Has Belle been in?” he asked, 
ignoring the usual pleasantries. “Not since she left with you John, 
although her Taxi driver came in quite angry – she got him to drive her 
here and then got picked up by some friends.” Sarah clicked her tongue, 
“Did she ditch you?” “No,” he said quite affronted, “Of course not.” 
And he hung up, picked up by friends? She'd only been out of Australia 
once; she didn't have any friends here. He put on an added burst of 
speed, the rain was easing up but it was well and truly night time by 
now and everyone was returning home. He took a shortcut down a small 
residential street. If anyone had been glancing out their window, they 
would have seen a man, filled with guilt, break the quiet domestic 
setting. They would have noted how he didn't even notice or care that 
his sneakers splashed through muddy puddles and threw up droplets until 
the bottoms of his trousers were soaked. And they would have seen his 
face, etched with fear and his hand gripping a phone – with his 
knuckles whitened and imprinted into his skin. But no one glanced out 
the window or peered through the curtain; the street was empty and the 
lights were off. By the time a car pulled out of a driveway and turned 
down the street, he had already gone. 

Chapter 14 – Dread Me 

A phone beeped once and was immediately answered without a hello. “He
knows you have her,” said the voice into the receiver. “Is he on his 
way?” came the reply. “Yes.” “Keep him in your sights, we have nearly 
arrived.” A crackle of interference came over the line and a chain of 
static swear words could be heard, “It seems our guest has woken up. 
I'll tell the boys to gas her again. It would not do for them to get 
pulled over.” “I'll call if anything else shows up.” “We're going to 
get him this time.” “Yeah.” 

Chapter 15 - She (The Reason) 

She was smarter then she let on, she became more beautiful the more you
knew her. She saw the humour in every situation. She was crazy-silly 
and young enough to still have faith in the world. Yet old enough to 
see a situation as what it was. He'd sent her away – so soon after 
seeing Clive and now she was in danger – he'd never travelled with 
anyone before and now he knew why - he was afraid, for the first time 
in the life he could remember, he felt fear. He crashed through the 
doors and patrons of the hotel all jumped in fright as he strode in and 
went straight up to Sarah. Seeing the look on his face she said quickly 
into the telephone receiver, “I'm very sorry but could you please call 
back later?” and hung up before she received a reply. “John is 
everything ok?” she said standing up and trying to calm him down. 
“Where did the Taxi Driver drop her off?” he said trying very hard to 
keep his temper. “Just outside,” he took off, “But John, she's gone, 
you won't find her!” “Like hell I won't!” he shouted back and slammed 
out of the building. A black car with tinted windows sat idling out 
front, as soon as he came out of the building, the driver wound down 
the window. “He's got her.” He said to the driver, without surprise at 
his arrival. Without explaining who she was. “We know. We can't find 
her without your help.” “It's my fault Chris. Who knows what he's going 
to do to her.” “Hop in, you've made some bad mistakes in your life, but 
this isn't going to be one of them.” He nodded and slid into the car, 
and turned to Chris, the only person who knew who he was, about his 
past. Their relationship was tight and apart from Belle the closest 
person he'd met with whom he ever thought he could trust. Chris had 
said that for his own good he should never know who he used to be, said 
that that person was best left dead and that the person he'd become 
should be proud to have a second chance. So he was forced to search 
other places without Chris' help. They slipped into traffic and headed 
out of town to the North, Chris keeping his silence and his eyes on the 
road. “Who is she?” Chris said finally breaking it and surprising him 
from his thoughts. “You probably know more then I do about her,” he 
said still staring out the window then glancing back at him, “Done a 
background check yet?” “Yeah,” Chris glanced sideways at him, “Nothing 
out of the ordinary. I just wondered if there was something else. 
Something we missed.” “No, I just picked her up and brought her with 
me.” “Why her?” “Because,” he struggled to put it into words, “Because 
she's better then me.” “Ah.” “What's that for, why did you say “ah” 
like that?” “That's why you're feeling so guilty. 

Chapter 16 – Pursuit for Forgiveness 

A car turned into a highly unremarkable street, and then drove down a
ramp and paused at an unremarkable door. A hand with no remarkable 
characteristics extended from the window and slid a small plastic ID 
through an ordinary scanner. The unremarkable door made some rather 
boring noises and slid open to reveal an unexceptional underground car 
park, in which the car parked. A slightly more luxurious than ordinary 
elevator came down the dull shaft and two seemingly average men stepped 
inside and road to the predictably common top floor. But as the door 
shuddered open, the room revealed was anything but ordinary. An 
expansive open plan, hub-hub of activity, the entrance offered was 
islands of desks, strewn with paper and electronics. People were 
studiously scribbling and rifling through photos, filing and searching 
histories of people and trying to create order out of chaos. He and 
Chris stepped out of the elevator and the work in the room ground to a 
halt. He strode purposefully forward and received some nods of hello 
and blank looks of disbelief; Chris marched beside him and motioned for 
a group of people to follow. They barrelled through the doors at the 
far end of the room and into the epicentre of British Intelligence. 
Below them was a quarter sliced circle room, the entire wall behind 
them a sweeping curve and the point in front sliced off to create a 
flat wall. To the left, you could follow a gangway around the curve 
which sloped downwards onto the ground floor, where a cacophony of 
phones going off and typing could be heard Declan Adams, Director 
General of MI5. The office sat as a gallery over the room and had full 
view of the enormous data projector screen positioned on the chopped 
off corner. He rushed to the metal railing and gazed at the screen, 
taking in the plethora of information in seconds. He ran down to the 
left and walked past the desks all facing the display.  The room was 
thick with urgency and as he made it to the main desk he glanced up at 
the gallery and nodded at Declan who tilted his head in acknowledgment. 
“We were tracking her path through CCTV, but lost her as they left the 
city,” Chris made his way over and clicked some keys on the main 
computer. “You were watching us weren't you?” he asked Chris “Ever 
since you arrived in the country.” He got out a laser and pointed to a 
mark on a road map, “That's where we lost them.” “How many?” “Men? 
Three that we know of, they surrounded her and made her breathe in some 
Knock-out gas.” A woman at the desk by them pressed a few switches and 
beside the map on the screen came up the footage they had of the 
abduction. Chris looked over, “She stayed conscious for longer then 
most people would, but after that,” Chris said indicating the doors 
slamming shut, “We don't see her again.” “How long ago were they here?” 
he said pointing at the map on the monitor. “15 minutes ago.” 
“Travelling how fast?” “60 km/h, but they're out of the city now.” “But 
that van would be pushing it to go more then 140.” He tapped his lip 
and picked up the tablet and stylus, drawing a circle around where the 
van was, “Best case scenario for them would be that they reached the 
outer edge of this circle.” Then he scribbled over half of it, “And 
they can't have come back, because we would have seen them.” “Liam will 
have told them not to attract attention; they are probably driving at 
the speed limit.” Chris said gently. “Liam doesn't give a stuff if he 
draws attention,” he answered icily; “It is all part of the game.” “You 
understand him better then anyone,” Chris put his hands up, “You have 
helped us out more then anyone who's ever actually worked for us, you 
have our full support – so, it's your call.” He took a deep breath and 
closed his eyes briefly.  “I understand.” She had said. He saw her face 
turning to him and smiling, “You do the best at what you're good at.” 
She had stopped walking and he had too, “And what you're good at is 
being a hero,” she had laughed, “A knight.” Opening his eyes he looked 
back at the map, “They're going to try and avoid Slough and get onto 
some back roads. If I know Liam, and I do know Liam – then his men will 
be right here,” he smacked the pen onto the table and drew an arrow to 
the road running through Eton Wick. “Yeah, but what now?” “Now? Well 
he's made his move,” he grinned insanely at Chris, “Now it's my turn.” 

Chapter 17 – Hostage 

She dreamt she was running through a room filled with car fumes, a dull
light meant she could see it coiling around her but as to actually 
penetrating the fug it was no use; she ran forward blindly, couldn't 
breathe- she spun looked for a way out, she tripped – over what, she 
couldn't tell, she fell to the ground and shut her eyes tight. Belle 
opened her eyes and groaned, rolled over and coughed hard, nearly 
throwing up with the foul taste on her palette. She covered her mouth 
and realised her hands were tied; she reached to feel her feet and 
discovered they were bound as well. She was in a van, in motion – 
getting tossed around. The van made a hard corner and she slid to the 
back; not able to protect herself with her hands her body got the brunt 
of the impact.  She wedged herself into the corner to try and stop from 
further tumbling and began piecing together what she knew. Clive had 
said she was in danger, and he had said he'd made enemies, which wasn't 
hard to believe. “There's always the chance this is just random 
coincidence.” She thought out loud, and then scoffed, “Hardly likely.” 
Belle dismissed. She pulled her sleeve up, yanking with her teeth, to 
look at the phone number written on her arm. He'd said the person who'd 
answer would know what to do. With her hands still bound she managed to 
retrieve her mobile from her jacket pocket and looked at the number 
again. It was quite long and she didn't know whether or not she needed 
an area code before. Now she just slid open her mobile and dialled. The 
vehicle came to a stop and a car door opened and closed, she crossed 
her fingers that they wouldn't open the door, pulling down her sleeve 
and waiting for someone to answer. “Pick up, pick up.” She prayed to 
the repetitious double hum, but before it had a chance the crunch of 
footsteps on gravel stopped and the panel was yanked open- she quickly 
dropped her hands and phone out of sight, but too late. “What have you 
got there?” said a man with a thick Liverpool accent. “Nothing,” she 
said sliding the phone closed, disconnecting the call. “Don't lie to 
me!” he slapped her across the cheek, she dropped the phone between her 
legs and reached to cup her searing face. “Get up,” he said grabbing 
her by the hair and chucking her to the other side of the van, with 
bound feet she couldn't hold her balance and toppled to the floor. He 
picked up the phone from the floor and held it out as if to show her. 
“There's no one who can help you now love.” He shook his head, dropped 
the phone to the floor and raised his foot above it. A black Range 
Rover with tinted windows and a gleaming bull bar pulled up on the 
gravel in front of the large storage shed beside them and as the driver 
turned the ignition off, a passenger emerged and looked directly at 
them. He wore a dark suit, plain and cut simply – but smart, with 
cufflinks that caught the sunlight as he strode towards them, a 
matching charcoal vest over a starched puce shirt and lavender tie. He 
was comfortable and confident, oozing professionalism and credibility. 
His face was young, inheriting money rather then making it – although 
from his calculating gaze and authority, Belle assumed he was 
proficient at that as well. Before her interrogator was able to crush 
the phone, the new man arrived at the opening of the van and said 
firmly, “Don't.” “Sorry Mr. McKenzie”, said the man to this new 
authority.  Mr. McKenzie gave him a look of disdain and picked up the 
phone and looked at the last made call. “You didn't phone the police,” 
Mr. McKenzie raised an eyebrow, “What's your name?” “Belle,” she 
answered with a look of defiance. “Why do you think you're here?” 
“Revenge.” He grinned, showing black fillings at the back of his mouth. 
 “Bingo.  Do you know who I am?” “No.” “Good.”  He bit his lip. “It 
will do you no good”, she said to him with assurance. “What won't?” he 
asked amused. “Kidnapping me – it will do you no good.” “Why not?” “He 
won't fall for it.  He won't rescue me.” “I don't need to lure him out 
– I just need to hurt him.” “It won't work; he won't care as much as 
you think he will.”  She was calm and confident as he began to look 
unsure. “Yes he will. He asked you to come with him – he loves you.” “I 
came with him and I don't love him”, she said when his face came close 
and their noses were almost touching.  “I don't love him and he doesn't 
love me – it's been a week since we met.”  Her eyes shone with the 
brilliant feeling of ruining someone's plan.  “He won't care.”  He let 
out some air in a snuff of laughter but he looked slightly ruffled – he 
took the phone and slammed the door shut again as he left. 

He took the tape-recorder out of his pocket and pressed re-dial on the
phone which rang twice and then connected. 

Chapter 18 – Trust Crumbling? 

Chris answered on the second ring. “Hello.” A slightly crackled voice
said, “Put him on.” Chris' eyes widened and he handed the phone over. 
“Liam,” he said as though greeting an old friend, “Long time, no see.” 
“Stop stuffing around, you know why I rang.” “Nope, can't think at 
all,” he lied. The sound of a tape recorder being re-wound came garbled 
over the connection and then played. “Why do you think you're here? 
Revenge.” A fast forward, “He won't rescue me.” Another fast forward, 
“I don't love him.” Liam put his ear back to the phone – dead air 
filled the gap, he could just hear his heavy breathing of anger and 
hurt. Liam smiled, “Predictable.” He thought “I will stop you. I will 
find you and stop you and I won't leave her.” Liam laughed, “What's the 
point? She doesn't care about you.” “The point,” he spat as he yelled 
into the phone, “Is to prove her wrong!” He disconnected. He looked 
back at Chris and the rest of the room as they silently gazed at him. 
“Get me a laptop with wireless and the fastest car you've got!” he said 
to no one in particular as he grabbed a hands-free phone piece and 
wrapped it over his ear and connected it to Chris's phone, “We're going 
after them.” 

Chapter 19– A Sign to Stop 

Breathing in long and slow on a cigarette some fingers tap out a steady
rap on a thigh.  They stop as the owner's phone chirrups twice.  
Punching the answer button, they slowly exhale the cigarette and wait 
patiently for the caller to identify themselves. “They are coming – I 
need more time.  Stop them”, came Liam's voice – echoing slightly. “I'm 
already there, don't worry – they won't suspect a thing” replied the 
voice breathing in on the smoke again. The phone disconnected. 

Chapter 20 – Trouble 

Pulling her out of the van by her hair and along the gravel, scratching
and grazing her knees and hands – the man with the Liverpool accent 
dragged Belle into a small and dingy house.  Letting the screen door 
shut behind them he made his way into the kitchen where he pulled a 
very 70s woven dining chair closer and sat her on it. Belle tried to 
breathe through the sting from her cuts and head, but whimpered 
slightly when he got twine out of the drawer and bound her tightly to 
the chair. “Why won't you just kill me,” she said, looking down at his 
head while he tied her feet. “Mr. McKenzie doesn't work like that – why 
kill someone when you can wait for them to die?” “But why?  If you 
don't get to kill me,” she laughed ironically, “why not let me go?” 
“Because people who are alive have to put up with more pain.  Besides”, 
he flicked out a Swiss army knife and cut through the string, “you 
might give us something useful.”  He stood up and circled her, making 
sure there was nothing sharp she could cut through the string with. “I 
quite enjoy torture – hope you feel the same”, he smiled and left. 
Daylight started to filer through the curtains, marking the start of 
another day.  Belle shuffled her chair forwards and tried to see how 
far away he'd gone, but couldn't see around the corner.  With very 
little left to lose, and her greatest hope – not that she would be 
saved, but that she wouldn't, that he wouldn't come, that he'd stay 
safe – she wiggled the chair towards the windows and swung the chair 
into the pane, shattering the glass for something to use to cut her 
cords.  But the swing had too much force and the chair over-balanced, 
knocking her onto the floor against the glass shards.  A cut to her 
forehead bled warm and thick down her nose and into her eyes before she 
passed out. 

Chapter 21 – Try Again 

Belle woke to a cupped hand pushing a mask to her face.  Blearily she
fought against the gas, holding her breath and kicking out but, unable 
to fend off its effects, she slipped into unconsciousness. Picking up 
her body and carrying her into the bathroom, Liam's men took out 
Stanley knives carefully cutting along her veins, not enough to kill 
her, but enough to make her bleed considerably into the bath.  All up 
her arms, down her legs and across her stomach, small cuts across her 
veins.  Taking the mask off her, Liam leant down and smiled, “Nearly 
over”, he said to her, “Unlucky bitch”. He took out his phone, motioned 
for the guys to stop and took a photo of her prostrate body.  Sending 
it to him and typing in a short message.  He puffed up his cheeks and 
tapped the phone against his lips, exhaling and smiling he pressed 
‘send'.  Then motioning for the men to pick her up, and carry her out, 
he left the room. 

Chapter 22 – There She Goes 

Flicking a cigarette stub to the gutter a man crossed into a building's
driveway and swiped an ID through a scanner, before catching an 
elevator at the back of the garage to the top. He and Chris charged out 
of the office across the floor and around the desks, nearly running 
full tilt into Clive.  Clive caught hold of his sleeve when he tried to 
get past – Chris stopped on his own staring at Clive. He turned to him 
and said, “You were right – he has her.” “Figured,” said Clive 
apologetically. Chris glanced at his watch – “Well let's go and get 
her.”  They all knew it wouldn't be that simple. “You can't”, Clive 
said surprised them both.  Looking at him to continue he grimaced, “I 
was just in the garage – someone's punctured your tyres.” 

“We'll just go get new ones”, Chris wiped the gash in one of the tyres
in a futile attempt to piece it together.  “No good”, said Clive coming 
out from under the hood, “no distributor cap – won't start without 
one.” “Hey”, Chris and Clive went over to him and tried to get his 
attention, but it was all taken by the mobile phone he held in his 
hands. Chucking it back to Chris as though contaminated he ran back to 
the elevator. Chris looked at the screen, saw the image of Belle, cut 
and bleeding to death in a bath and swore, “son of a bitch”, before 
taking off after him. 

Chapter 23 – The End of Reason 

“Ready?” Liam asked his new camera man, the hired help that were so
versatile. “When you are.” He turned behind him to where the girl was, 
“Now all we're waiting on is you, wake up precious – it's show time.” 
She wriggled restlessly, like a child trying to get comfortable then 
rolled onto her back as the searing sting of her stomach cuts made her 
wince. “There we are,” he turned to the man guarding her, “Stand her up 
and strip her to her underwear, he'll want to see our handiwork.” Tears 
dribbled down her cheek and she looked at him without flinching, stared 
him down with hate while the man took off her dress and skivvy, then 
she cracked her face into a grin, tipped her head back and laughed. Not 
mad shrieking laughter, but proper belly laughs that made the guards 
nervous and Liam fidget. “Shut up, shut up!” he stood and bellowed She 
tried to stop, acting like a naughty school girl caught laughing in 
class by a teacher but small giggles escaped. She bit her tongue trying 
to keep them down. “What's so funny?” Liam asked her, unable to 
understand. “You think you've beaten me.” She laughed at him and 
shrugged, “And that suit...” she whistled. “Be quiet!” he shouted 
making the other men shrink back. “Why?” she taunted, “You're not that 
smart – if you were smart you would have shot us when we were in the 
park – unsuspecting, two shots in quick succession, pow pow!” She said 
making a gun with her hands, “See? Stupid! Bet I could beat you at 
chess.” “But that would end his curse.” Liam said slowly and 
deliberately. “What curse? Life? Life isn't a curse – it's a gift.” 
“Not his. By destroying everyone and everything that matters to him, 
I'll make him live a curse- because that is what he deserves, a cursed 
life.” She clicked her tongue three times, “Revenge is an unhealthy 
thing, gives you cancer,” she crossed to fingers and put them over her 
heart, “Cross my heart.” She lied. “You know what I think,” he asked 
rhetorically. “Not a lot I imagine,” she answered anyway. “I think 
you're doing all this because you're scared,” he said with an air of 
achievement, ignoring her dig. “Pffff, terrified!” she said airily, 
“But acting it is hardly going to make it any better, is it? I'm either 
going to live or you're going to kill me and buster over there,” she 
pointed to the camera man who tied her up, “said that you don't usually 
kill people, which means I might as well waffle on and annoy you!” she 
smiled sweetly. “No,” Liam said firmly, smirking. “Pardon?” “No, we 
don't usually kill people,” he waved a hand at the men who took her 
clothes, “But for you we're making an exception.” She took a step back 
and the man put an arm around her chest and a gun to her head, pinning 
her arms to her sides. “Here we go,” thought Liam. 

Chapter 24- Alone 

Barging back through the office, down the gangway and onto the floor
they made their way to the control desk. “How did he manage to get into 
the garage?” “Since you and Chris came back there have only been three, 
no four people into the carport, all employees.” “Former,” Clive put up 
a hand, “I don't work here any more, remember?” “Yeah, what are you 
doing here?” he said to Clive. “I followed you, you ran past and I 
could tell something was wrong.” Clive laughed nervously, “What did you 
think I was doing here?” “Well someone had to slash the tyres.” Chris 
raised his eyebrows. “I was the one that warned you about what he'd do 
to Belle!” he countered. “Incoming message,” interrupted a middle aged, 
brunette, running the control desk. “Put it on the projector.” He said 
stepping away from Chris and Clive. “Doing it now.” A dark image filled 
the screen, frozen and ready to connect. “He wants a video conference.” 
She said finger poised over the mouse. “Let him,” he said stepping 
forward, trying to make out the image. CONNECTED came up in big bold 
letters and Liam leant forward. “Hello old friend,” Liam rocked on the 
legs of the chair sitting in front of the window, “I believe I have 
something of yours.” A man holding a handgun to Belle's head pushed her 
foreword. She was caked in her own blood, cuts covering her body but 
she was smiling. She waved at him. “Are you alright?” he asked her, his 
voice wavering. “Fine,” she brushed off his concern. But her veneer 
cracked as her attacker pressed the gun harder to her temple, “You?” 
She pressed her lips together. “Don't hurt her Liam.” A cold edge crept 
into his voice, “Don't you dare.” “Oh, I won't,” Liam smiled, 
“Apparently the brain has no nerves – one shot, and she won't feel a 
thing.” “You bastard,” he made his way forward. “What are you going to 
do, hit me?” Liam laughed. “Why are you doing this?” the yell echoed 
through the silent room. “Because you deserve to be alone – forever, no 
help, no friendship, no family,” he choked slightly, “Completely 
alone.” Liam calmly lifted his left hand up and waved it at the camera, 
the wedding band reflecting back at him in the lens, “Now say goodbye 
to your little Belle Saunders – you really out to have known better.” 
Belle looked into the monitor and saw his big Bambi eyes caught in the 
headlights, “Bye then,” she said still smiling at him and a couple of 
tears spilling out. “I'm going to come and get you, I promise – I'll 
find you, I'll save you.” “Empty promises. I expected more.” Liam 
frowned, “You realise of course that you've been betrayed?” The video 
cut and the screen went blank. Chris turned to face him, “Betrayed?” 

Chapter 25 – Headlights 

Liam laughed long and hard then turned to Belle who struggled against
being held. “I love my job,” he said standing and stretching, “Shoot 
her.” Headlights glared through the window, blinding the men – Belle 
took the chance, grabbed the gun from the man holding her and pointed 
it at them. “Don't move!” she said, shaking slightly – unused to 
holding the heavy metal. She started moving backwards towards the door 
when Liam stepped forward to try and stop her, “I said don't move!” 
“Come on Belle, we're hours from anywhere! You take off now then you're 
only putting off the inevitable.” “Sounds like a good idea for me.” She 
said bumping into the table behind her and moving to the left towards 
the door. Hands clamped on her from behind, the gun went off and the 
bullet hit the ceiling, a fist clocked her across the chin and out she 
went. When she woke she was curled into a cramped ball with her weight 
resting on her forehead. She could see nothing in the pitch black but 
could feel walls on either side of her. Panic shot through her as for a 
second she thought she'd been buried alive and had a sudden and fearful 
feeling of disorientation. She rolled onto her side as best she could 
manage and from there onto her back, her feet and hands were tied again 
and her legs were strapped up so her knees were folded into her chest. 
She raised her feet up until they touched the roof. She had just over 
half a metre up, barely half a metre side to side and as her head was 
tilted slightly she guess less then a metre lengthways. If she raised 
her bound hands up she could feel something smooth and thin protruding 
from above her. Her back began to hurt resting on the hard surface and 
she rolled over onto her side, kicking the wall by mistake, it opened 
slightly and stopped. She realised that it wasn't a wall but a door and 
kicked it again but it wouldn't open, she tried putting all her weight 
against it but it wouldn't give. In an empty house, on an abandoned 
farm in a small clearing of a forest, a repetitive banging could be 
heard coming from the cupboard under the sink, which, in time with the 
thumps, strained against the chain and padlock securing it shut and 
then go slack again. 

Chapter 26 - Betrayed? 

“It doesn't matter.” He said brushing off Chris' words, “I have nothing
to hide from him.” He clicked his fingers, snatched his thick rimmed 
glasses off his nose and pointed at Clive, “Clive! You drove here!” 
“Yeah,” Clive began but he'd already started running up the ramp 
towards the door, “Wait,” Clive said, he stopped poised at the door, 
itching to leave, “You and Chris go,” he chucked his keys at him, “Get 
her back safe!” “Thanks Clive!” he yelled as he and Chris ran out of 
the door. Clive let himself fall into an office chair which he then 
swung around and leaned back in, shaking his head. “Why can't life be 
simple?” He wrenched the car door open, chucked the laptop onto the 
passenger seat, Chris hopping in and putting the computer onto his 
knees. Putting the key into the ignition and the car into gear he shot 
out of the parking space and off down the street. Chris opened the 
computer and drew up a map, glancing up to find a street sign as they 
whizzed by at an alarming rate. Finding where they were, Chris then 
started directing him to the west and out of the city. Traffic thinned 
which pleased Chris immensely as they were travelling at speeds that 
would shame hell's fleeing bats. “Bring up Google Earth again!” he said 
when they entered Slough and started cruising down the main road. 
“There,” Chris said when he had the image up, filling the entire 
screen. “Where's a remote location, somewhere they could hide from 
everyone else?” “I don't know!” Chris said scanning the screen and 
feeling the pressure, “They could be anywhere.” “Load of help you are!” 
he yelled at Chris, breaking the car suddenly and hitting his hand 
against the steering wheel. Silence filled the car and still-framed the 
occupants both breathing lightly and saying nothing out of apology. 
“I'm doing my best.” Chris spoke slowly as not to provoke him further. 
He didn't look at Chris, “I mean this,” he gestured at the screen, 
“It's like looking for a needle in a haystack except we don't know what 
the needle looks like. How many houses are there around here?” But 
Chris did not have his attention. It was taken fully by the photo of a 
recently sold house on the window of the real estate agency they'd 
pulled up beside. “Is it just me,” he said leaning in closer to Chris 
and pointing at the advert, “Or does that shed look very familiar?” 
Chris followed his line of sight and turned back to him and they 
grinned. “I'd say it looks very familiar.” After collecting the address 
from the advert they followed the map down along the back roads and 
into a grove of trees. The moon was nearly full and bright white, with 
many stars visible on the crisp, clean night that followed the heavy 
rain. If you lay on your back and gazed at its blanket the stars winked 
on and off like pin pricks of glitter tossed into the air, catching the 
light from the Earth's radiance. Though as the trees grew more densely, 
the branches blocked out the moon and gradually not even the stars lit 
the road forward for the small car that wound its way to its 
destination. 

Chapter 27 – Go! 

Liam nervously thumbed the mobile phone open and closed as they took his
Land Rover through the forest, over ferns and weaving between trees. 
His contact had driven over faster then he would have believed and in a 
hurry blinded them with her headlights. But as Belle was making her 
retreat, she had come in and managed to knock her out. She then told 
Liam what had happened. Whilst he had been getting his revenge, his 
mother had passed away. It was then that he couldn't do it. Couldn't 
kill Belle. At that point it seemed to Liam that he was already 
responsible for one death and by killing Belle, well then he would be 
just as bad. “Too many regrets, he shall die knowing the damage he's 
done or live with the consequences.” 

Chapter 28 – I want you safe 

There was nothing in the cupboard with her and she had no handy tools to
assist her escape. She had given up trying to break the door down and 
was singing quietly to herself to stop the helplessness creeping 
throughout her body. “I heard there was a secret chord that David 
played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music do 
you?” A car door slammed starkly in the near silence of night. “It goes 
like this the fourth the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the 
baffled king composing hallelujah.” Not believing her ears when the 
screen door scraped open and slammed shut, she continued singing. “Your 
faith was strong, but you needed proof,” “Belle?” A voice so familiar 
to her now called. “I'm in here!” she called out, her voice cracking 
from lack of use and relief. She started kicking the doors again. 
Eventually the door was opened and he pulled Belle out and scooping her 
up in his arms, sat her on the bench and began untying her ropes. With 
her hands untied she then put them on his hands making him glance up at 
her, she smiled, “Mon chevalier.” He ran the back of his fingers gently 
across her cheek and cupped her chin within. “You are the only person 
who means anything to me and you mean everything to me.” He smiled, 
“You said that names had value because they show someone knows you.” He 
took a deep breath, “So please, name me.” “Name you?” she was 
surprised. “I can give you anything, but this is the most important 
thing I can possess and I want to give you that honour. So name me, 
whatever you think is appropriate.” She smiled cheekily to herself and 
bit her tongue, then turned back to him and said, “You have only ever 
been a knight to me. Chevalier?” She frowned and he laughed lightly at 
her pout, “No, that's not right,” she tilted her head to look at him, 
“Chev.” “Chev?” he nodded, “Chev.” She hugged him hard, “Thankyou.” He 
untied her remaining strings, “For what?” She grinned and began to help 
him, “For everything!” 

Chapter 29 – Perceptions and Misconceptions 

Individual streams of propelled water pummelled her back and ran down
her legs – making lazy spirals as they wound into the plug hole. She 
immersed her head completely and let the water suffocate the noise of 
the outside world and ebb some warmth back into her body. She stayed 
there standing until the shaking in her legs stopped and the searing 
pain from her cuts had dulled to a throb and then wrapped herself 
protectively in a towel, snuggling herself into the hotel's dressing 
gown and squeezing her hair dry into the sink, she stepped out if the 
bathroom. “Feel better?” Chev asked, hearing the sound of her feet and 
turning his head. “Much,” she said and smiled, sitting down on the 
couch. “I'll see if your clothes are dry,” he said standing up and 
going to the laundry closet. Belle tucked her feet up underneath her 
and tapped her teeth with her fingernail. “What day is it?” she called 
out, his head popped around the corner. “What?” “What day is it today?” 
“Tuesday,” he said coming back in, she smiled and laughed gently, 
“What?” he asked. “It's my birthday,” she grinned. “That's brilliant!” 
he jumped up, “We have to do something great, I know – how about you 
choose where we go next – anywhere in the world!” he held out his arms. 
“But, what about Liam?” “I've learnt my lesson, Chris can look after 
him – he's not worth the risk. Where do you want to go?” She smiled and 
her eyes started scanning her brain thinking and laughing. Chev held 
out a hand to help her up, “I don't know, somewhere fabulous, where I 
can party away my sweet sixteen.” His hand dropped down to his side and 
his face tensed, “Sixteenth?” “That's right,” she stood up and span 
around, “Sixteen, footloose and fancy free!” her smile dropped when she 
saw his face, “What?” “You're sixteen?” “Yes, what's wrong?” He put a 
hand to his mouth, “I kidnapped you.” He said, unable to believe it. 
Belle frowned, “Well, I guess – but I won't hold it against you, you're 
not the first,” she bit her tongue in a cheeky way, “Didn't you know?” 
“No,” he said still in shock, “How could I?” he turned away from her 
and ran his hand through his hair making it stand on end and then 
turned back to her pointing, “You had a job!” he clung to this piece of 
evidence as if it was a life raft. “Deschanel? It's just a clothes 
store – I work there in the holidays. Is it important?” “You are just a 
kid – I would never have I expected you to cope with all this, have 
asked you to come, if I had known!” he shook his head; “You were 
kidnapped and held as a hostage because of me – twice!” “Just a kid? 
After everything that I've been through you still have the cheek to 
call me a child!” She pointed at him, “I put my life in your hands and 
this is how you thank me?” “But it means nothing if you are too young 
to value it!” Belle swallowed, trying to keep herself from crying, 
“What makes you adult, hmmm? Time is a human invention so it should not 
be how old you are!” “Of course not, it's your experience at life!” 
“And haven't I experienced enough?” she shrieked, interrupting him, and 
then trying to calm down, silent tears staining her face. “I've 
travelled half way around the world to be with you; I've been 
kidnapped, drugged, tortured and shot at!” She took a deep breath, 
staring intently at his face but finding that his mask was back on and 
his defences were up, “But it means nothing now, doesn't it? Stupid 
little girl, doesn't know anything,” She hiccoughed but continued, “The 
meanings of words change now. Instead of a row or a discussion, this is 
now a fight, instead of me having a valid argument – I'm throwing a 
hissy-fit.” Her lip trembled as she looked up into his face, her hair 
falling in front of her eyes, “And I don't really love you, do I?” She 
said with sarcasm, “Oh no, this is just a crush.” She brushed the hair 
out of her face. The profound pause stretched into deafening silence, 
Belle collected herself, “Silence,” she nodded, “Nothing to say?” he 
made no reply, “I thought so.” She turned to go into the bedroom. 
“Belle?” Chev asked and she turned back around, “I'm sorry, I have to 
take you home.” She sniffed and nodded pressing her lips together, “I 
know,” she said and smiled hopelessly, “I'll just go and get my 
things.” She turned to leave again but before she could he asked, 
“What, that's it? You'll go just like that?” She whipped around, 
furious with him, “That's it? That's it? Yes that is bloody well it! 
I'm sorry but I have nothing else to give! There is nothing I have 
hidden from you. You have just seen me, stripped bare, utterly exposed 
and rejected it!” she looked at him, disbelieving, “I told you I loved 
you for goodness sake, but I'm still not good enough.” She gave him a 
scathing look, “So no, I'm sorry – that is it.” She left the room and 
this time he didn't stop her. She walked into the bedroom and holding 
the doorknob with both her hands behind her back, she leant into it, 
letting it close behind her. She failed to keep back the tears, slowly 
sliding down the door to the floor and she cried until she had no tears 
left inside. 

Chapter 30 – Can't Say what is on My Mind 

The soft patter of rain started up again as Chev and Belle left the
hotel and drove to the airport in silence. Chev tried to make awkward 
conversation with Belle, but she would say nothing and gave no 
impression of having heard him at all. The driver shot looks at them in 
the rear view mirror but said nothing; he'd learnt it was safer to 
remain silent. “Do you have family?” he asked her, finally getting her 
attention. “Yes,” she answered, “My mother, Melissa, my father, Stephen 
and my two little sisters,” she smiled, “Leanne and Annabelle.” “How 
old are they?” he asked, glad she was talking. “Leanne is 10 and Annaz 
is 5.” “What do your parents do?” “Mum's a Doctor and Dad is a Human 
Resource Manager.” There was a silence again, Belle gazing out the 
window and Chev staring at her – the only thing keeping him from 
begging her to stay were his pride and sense of responsibility. Two 
droplets collided on the window and made a snail-trail through the soft 
mist that coated the outside. “I meant it,” she said quietly, still 
gazing intently out the window and so close that her breath made small 
clouds on the glass, “Everything I've said to you, I've meant – I 
wasn't trying to trick you or anything,” she turned to look at him and 
half smiled, “I guess we both thought the other was something they're 
not.” They had turned off and into the airport, the taxi idled in the 
queue, and then sneaking off into the five minute drop zone, pulled to 
a stop. “Goodbye Chev,” she said, already out the door, as he went to 
pay the driver. “Wait,” he said as she shut the door and walked around 
behind the car. He opened his door and went to step out. “Please,” she 
begged, causing him to remain seated, “Just go.” “Without saying 
goodbye?” he asked, not wanting to hurt her. “Yes, you've made your 
choice and I've made mine, please don't make this more painful then it 
already is. Just go.” She turned around and walked into the airport. 
“Go after her – what are you waiting for?” asked the taxi driver. 
“There is no point.” Chev said putting his leg back into the car. “What 
do you mean no point? A beautiful girl is practically suicidal over you 
and you let her go over age difference?” “It's not just that,” he said 
closing his eyes and rubbing them, “I'm dangerous, if she hangs around 
with me she'll get hurt,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Or worse.” 
“Ahh but you are forgetting mate, see that's maybe what she wants – 
nothing lasts forever. Here's a nickel's worth of advice that I'm going 
to give you for free, it is better to die on your feet then to live on 
your knees,” he shrugged his shoulders, “And in the end, it's her life, 
isn't it her choice?” Chev sat up and pointed at him, “You know what? 
You are right!” “Of course I am right.” “I'm going to see if she wants 
to stay.” “That's all you have to ask.” “And if she says yes, well, 
then that's her decision.” “Too right!” “And if she says no . . .” he 
petered out. “You'll be none the worse off!” Finished the taxi driver. 
“Thanks,” he said hopping out of the cab, “Thanks a lot!” he ran off. 
“Don't mention it. Wait, what about my money?” he turned around and 
shouted out the window, “Come back and give me my money you cheat!” he 
turned back around and started up the car, sighing he pulled out. From 
under the stairs at the airport entrance, Liam frowned when Chev ran in 
grinning. Putting the scope and muffler onto his pistol he steadied the 
shot. The discharge was impossible to hear in the chaos of the 
terminal, the bullet bit into Chev's shoulder and he sank to the floor. 
Looking around for the shooter, his eyes caught Liam's momentarily 
before some of Liam's men picked him up under the armpits and half 
carried, half dragged him between them. 

Chapter 31 – Walk Unafraid 

In the very same van Belle had been taken in, Chev now found himself
resident, not bound, but merely sitting in the corner, every now and 
then a violent shake of the car would send excruciating pain up his 
arm. The van braked suddenly and he was pitched to the front, colliding 
with the wall separating the cabin from the storage. Rubbing his head 
as he sat up he said, “Bollocks to Newton.” The van door slid open and 
Liam stepped inside. “Hello,” Liam patronised, “Big brother.” 

Unknown to either of them Chev's phone had been knocked in the tumble
and hit speed dial on which Chris' phone was first. Chris' phone was 
however not in the possession of Chris and after several bars of a 
ditty it was answered. 

“Hello?” Belle asked hesitantly, Chris had given her the phone to
replace her own in case there was more trouble. However, even though no 
one replied, as Belle sat in the departures lounge, the conversation 
she heard playing out caused her to chuck the newspaper she'd been 
reading into the rubbish bin, grab her handbag from by her feet and run 
out of the terminal without a backwards glance to her plane as it left, 
with the phone still clamped to her ear. Chev needed her, and there was 
only one person she knew who could help. Arriving at Chris' apartment, 
with the address she'd snavelled from the phone; she walked up the 
stairs and knocked on the door. A voice called for her to come in and 
Belle pushed the door open to a smiling Chris, having his morning 
coffee. “Where is he?” he said worriedly when Chev did not follow her 
through the door. “You really need to hear some on this.” She pointed 
to the phone, her usually pale complexion ashen white. 

They had dragged Chev out of the van and sat him on the floor in the
warehouse. “You can't believe it, can you?” Liam strode purposefully 
around Chev who sat cross legged staring straight ahead. “I don't 
believe it Liam,” Chev replied calmly, “I'm well used to your mind 
games and they won't work on me.” “Oh, my name's not Liam, it's Drew. 
Would you like me to tell you yours?” “I already have a name,” he 
defied, “its Chev.” Drew burst out laughing. “Chev? Don't be ridiculous 
Michael! You used to love your name.” Chev looked at him suspiciously, 
“Prove it.” Drew motioned to his man who brought forward an envelope. 
He opened it and up-ended the contents on Chev's head. Chev stared in 
shock as photos of himself came showering down upon him, a couple of 
newspaper clippings and family snaps. “What happened?” he asked, 
struggling to speak. “You never thought you had enough.” Drew took off 
his jacket and tossed it onto some stored equipment, “We were quite 
wealthy, went to a good school, but you always wanted more.” Drew 
started striding around the room, “You started by ripping off cars and 
then gradually became less moral, smarter and less afraid to make 
things personal as you moved into doing long cons.” He frowned at Chev 
but continued, “You would set up teams, rip someone off and then ditch 
the people who'd put their lives in your hands, run away with the 
cash.” He bent his knees and rested his hands on his thighs, looking 
into his face, “You were the criminal that even the criminals hated, 
you'd do anything for money and I reckon you just about did.” “But my 
memory?” he asked, confused. “Probably someone getting payback – their 
were enough people who wanted to.” He raised his eyebrows, “Remember 
Sarah, at reception?” “Of course.” “You killed her entire family.” 
“Jesus Christ.” He swore. “Her youngest brother was 11.” Drew twisted 
the knife, “She's been keeping an eye on you for me, that's how I found 
out about you and Belle.” “Why didn't you kill her?” “What, you think 
I'm like you?” he laughed, swallowed hard, his Adam's apple wobbling, 
“I didn't kill her because Mum died, and unlike you I have a heart!” 
“What happened to your wife?” he asked indicating the ring on his 
finger. “I'm your little brother! What do you think happened? I was one 
of the first to get swindled by you, when they caught up with me, my 
family paid the price. That score is impossible to settle, but I'm 
going to try.” He pulled a gun out of a drawer. 

Chapter 32 – Just Desserts? 

Chris and Belle had arrived at MI5 and already traced the call to a
warehouse down near Jamaica Docks. Unable to convince Belle to stay, 
Chris had been forced to take her with him. “I think he's about to kill 
Chev.” Belle whispered, trying to stay calm. “It's ok; we are nearly 
there, barely five minutes away.” His knuckles were white as they held 
the steering wheel. A man walked up to a small warehouse and pushed 
open the large metal access door, nodding to the guards stationed at 
the exits. He had arrived which now made him the highest bidder and 
that's where their loyalties would lie. He clicked his cigarette 
lighter on and off and smiling to himself, made his way over to where 
the brothers were waiting. “Don't I get final words or a last request?” 
Chev asked ironically, “If this is an execution, where are my rights?” 
“You don't deserve rights; you are the lowest of the low, the most 
horrible example of humanity I have ever had the misfortune to meet.” 
Chev breathed in hard, the harsh reality of having his own words 
reflected back on him made him look at his hands in a new light. They 
had innocent blood on them. As he looked back at Drew, Clive came into 
the room. “Who the hell are you?” Drew asked swinging the gun onto him. 
“That's Clive,” Chev said confused. Clive stood there smiling. “What 
are you doing here?” Drew asked. “Oh that's easy!” he continued smiling 
and put his hands into his pockets, “I'm here to kill you both.” 
“What?” Chev asked. “You think that your family was the only one hurt – 
well you and your brother cheated me out of a lot of money” “Clive?” 
Chev said trying to calm him down. “Shut up! Clive, Clive, bloody Clive 
– I'm sick of playing that bloody buffoon.” He took the lighter out of 
his pocket and began flicking it again, “I'm not going to stand around 
waiting for you to escape, this is the first time I've been able to get 
the two of you together and I'm not wasting it. So”- he lifted up a 
sheet covering some large barrels of petrol and dragged it out 
slightly, lighting the end as if it were a fuse. “Bye!” Clive left then 
poked his head back through the door, “By the way, your guards are now 
my guards and will shoot you if you walk through this door. Have fun.” 
Chev and Drew looked at the petrol bomb and then began searching the 
room for an alternate exit. No windows leading out but there was a 
window leading out into the room next door and a door out from there. 
Chucking the chest of drawers through the window, they climbed through, 
Liam cutting his thigh on the glass. They tried the door. The smoke 
grew quite thick and Drew tried pushing on the door with his shoulder 
after finding it locked. Chev pushed him aside and took out his 
lock-pick, placing one in the bottom of the key hole and wiggling the 
other into the top the lock clicked open and the bomb exploded. 

Belle and Chris arrived at the Docks and walked around the side of the
warehouse and came up beside some equipment watching to see if anyone 
came out. When they saw Clive leaving, Chris nearly called out but 
Belle stopped him when she noticed Chev wasn't with him and the men 
asking him what he wanted them to do. Belle and Chris waited for 
something to happen, but the warehouse was silent and peaceful from the 
outside. 

Chapter 33 - For the World 

Belle and Chris were about to move forward when the building erupted in
flames and the glass shattered from the heat. Two men staggered out of 
the building, covering their faces with their sleeves, one collapsed to 
the ground. Chev lay coughing and Drew had his hand on his thigh 
holding the skin together as he bled more and more. Chris held Belle 
back as she struggled against him, trying to run and help. “I could 
have stopped you!” he yelled at Chev as he lay on the floor coated in 
ash, “You went off the rails and I should have stopped you.” “I can't 
imagine.” Chev said looking up at his brother, “I can't begin to 
understand.” “What we went through for you? Of course you can't, you 
wanted to live on the edge, and you did all those horrible things to 
people, unspeakable things!” he waved the gun around and staggered a 
bit, going white with the loss of blood and lack of energy, “They came 
after us Michael, after Mum and me. And now you expect me to take this 
crap about you forgetting about all that, turning over a new leaf.” “I 
really have – I don't remember anything – I don't remember you or my 
mother. I figured I'd done terrible things, but I was trying to make 
amends. You've got to believe me.” “Oh I believe you – but I don't 
believe it excuses you! Where were you when we were being tortured by 
your rivals, when the police brought us in for questioning?” he 
gestured towards his chest, “This was going on for years before you 
went missing! We're your flesh and blood.” He went quiet and bent over 
looking into Chev's eyes deep, “I hate you.” He said with a curled lip, 
“There is no recognition in your eyes at all, but I still hate you. I 
went to some of the families you destroyed to apologise,” he stood up 
straight and turned away from him treading purposefully in the opposite 
direction, dragging his gashed leg behind, “After all you've done, you 
have the most amazing gift, to not remember it ever happening. They 
don't have such luck.” He turned back towards him and raised the gun at 
him, his arm shaking and the blood from his leg pooling. “You need to 
go to the hospital; you've lost too much blood.” Chev said suddenly 
noticing the gash in his leg. “If I kill you now then I will welcome 
death.” He clicked the safety off on the gun and put his final energy 
into standing straight and still, “Goodbye Michael, see you soon.” And 
he pulled the trigger. “No!” came a voice out of sight as Belle finally 
broke free of Chris. Chev turned his head at the voice and Belle ran to 
push him out of its path, but the bullet had already started its 
approach. She was stopped by the impact the bullet made in her back, 
like ice she froze in an instant, and like she was melting she began to 
collapse to the ground. Chev knelt beside her, looking down at her as 
she took ragged breaths and held her side as the blood dripped onto the 
pavement. Her eyes never left his face, even when he removed her hand 
and looked at the damage – even when he knew she was dying and the 
devastation filled his entire body. “It's bad isn't it?” she whispered 
and bit her lip. “Yeah,” said Chev choking back a sob and looking over 
at Drew's body lying in his own pool of blood. Belle smiled and 
crinkled her forehead with pain. “You're better then him,” she said to 
him, tears starting to well, “Whatever he said, even if it was true, 
you're different and he'll never be like you “How am I supposed to 
believe that? The only thing I had going for me was you.” he said full 
of pride, tears running down his cheek. “Then I helped? My life meant 
something?” “Your life means everything.” Chev says finally breaking 
down, “I've lost everything today – I can't lose you.” “I've killed 
you, this life that I lead killed you.” He brushed her cheek with his 
thumb, “You're only 16.” “Don't blame yourself, I've seen a side to the 
world which most people think is only fiction and it's terrible, it's 
strange, cruel, weird, twisted and,” she reached for his hand with a 
weak arm and held onto it tightly, “it's brilliant. You made it worth 
dying for. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.” She smiled up at 
him and he held her hand while the life left her. Her eyes, for the 
first time since she arrived, lost focus on him, her smile relaxed from 
smiling into a gently open mouth with her lips pouted. He combed the 
hair off her face, closed her eyes and held her hand in both of his 
pressing his lips against her thumb and sat with her, at the end of the 
world. 


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