He'll Come Through - Chapter 3 - The plot thickens

3 - The plot thickens

After huddled conversations between the four still masked men, they eventually disappeared outside. It was still daylight but it seemed nearer dusk, a poorly timed rumble for her stomach only confirmed that it was late in the day. She dropped her head, struggling to keep tears at bay, how the hell had this happened? To her?

When she eventually looked up, Quinn was glaring at her, “you work out here?” When she nodded he added, “and this boss was happy for you to travel on the local bus service? There are so many hold ups at the moment. He should be shot himself for endangering you like that.”

She shrugged, “I’m an adult and I make my own decisions. Now can we concentrate on getting out of her rather than you abusing me?”

He laughed, “if you think this is me abusing you you’re not going to tolerate the next few days or however long they keep us holed up.”

Lilah didn’t respond to that comment, didn’t know how. She was hoping that she was some sort of machine, someone who could tolerate this kidnap and all it may ensue. As it was she was a wimp, fear made her shake, made her feel physically sick and she was trying SO hard to fight it, trying so hard not to think about the next ten minutes, let alone any longer. But the truth was she had no idea how long this would last, and also that Quinn was possibly her only way out of here. The arrogant stranger who’d thrown himself into this path with her. He was saying it was her fault, that the men wanted her, but he was translating, it could just as easily be him they were after. But he mentioned Gavin’s name. He couldn’t have guessed that.

She tried to think of nice things, nice thoughts. Anything to drag herself away from this hell. But tears rolled down her face, at memories of her mother the last time she’d seen. They’d been at the bus stop in the quaint sleepy village in Cornwall that was home to her parents.  Her mother, Rose had spent even the last few moments trying to convince Lilah not to leave. But Lilah always knew best! There was no real insight into why Rose felt that way, other than that her parents missed her when she’d travelled and now it’d had all ended up like this! She swore if she ever made it home, if she got out alive she’d listen to her mother every time.

                “I didn’t mean to upset you Blondie, you’ve got to hold it together to try and get through this.” His voice cut through her thoughts pulling her back harshly to reality.

                “Hold it together?” she turned as much as she could to rear in his face, “I’m tied to a bloody chair, my shoulders feel like they’re about to pop out of their sockets they’ve been behind my back for so long, there are four men with shotguns outside, and I’m pinning my hopes on a man who calls me Blondie! What the hell have I got to be stressed about?”

He smiled at the sarcasm, the bravado on her face, “but you are blonde!”

She shook her head, “what’s happening now do you think?”

“They’ll be contacting your boss, asking for money I presume. At least then we might get out of here if he pays up...”

“And if he doesn’t?” she asked at a half whisper. She dreaded the answer, but she needed to know.

“Then I’ll have to get us out, the harder option, but still doable!” He grinned but it was not the most convincing of looks, but as Lilah looked at him she realised he wasn’t bigging it up or boasting, he really believed he could do it. Whilst she knew that it was a long shot, the thought that he was this confident, gave her some hope. He was dressed in thick khaki combats with a same colour shirt and a grubby white t-shirt underneath, his heavy boots had seen many miles. He was the epitome of a desert soldier. She felt a little easier.

                “So what are you doing out here in Africa? You don’t look like you’re here on holiday.”

He smiled, “I consult I suppose you’d call it, for security firms, businesses. I’ve been in Morocco, Algeria and Mauritania for a few months trying to help certain groups out. I was on my way to the airport to fly to the Middle East to meet with a sheik there.”

                “Are you supposed to be telling me this information?”

Again he smiled, “if we get out of this alive then I’ll have to kill you!”

That was another comment that she believed. Considering how scary this situation was she was amazed at how calm they both were, despite it all.

                “So are you in the military or something?”

He nodded, “I was in Special Forces, part of the reconnaissance team, I usually rescue than be rescued! Got a taste for the lifestyle even once I ‘retired’!”

She could see him running around the desert, dropping out of aeroplanes and shooting terrorists. He had that rugged look about him, and a face that had seen a lot of action. His tan didn’t look contrived, it was purely from being outdoors, a lot.

                “What if he doesn’t come through Quinn? What if he can’t or won’t pay?”

Quinn turned to her, “he has to Lilah, otherwise we’re going to need hell of a lot of luck.”

                “But you said...”

                “Blondie, trying to get you out of here won’t be a walk in the park, but I’ve got out of bleaker places. We need to bank on that man paying for his mistake, because it’s his fault that you’re here, and you’re fault I’m here!”

Lilah saw red, “I didn’t ask you to put your life on the line like some superhero. You chose that Quinn, not me! So don’t lay your guilt at my door as it’s hard enough to deal with my own shit at the moment!”

She closed her eyes, turning her head away from him, would she find some solace in sleep? Dreams of the luxurious house she’d left that morning or cliff top walks with her father and their three spaniels? But if she slept would waking to this hell on earth be worse than it felt now.

                “Lean on me!” Quinn announced.

                “I’d rather die!” she spat spitefully.

He sighed, “look, if you fall asleep and lean away from me you might topple the chair, the way your hands are linked behind the chair back, you’re likely to break your arm, these guys won’t untie you if you do to even rest it, let alone think about first aid, and it’ll be hell. Lean against me and at least we can support each other.”

It made sense, and if she was stubborn, she wasn’t stupid. So she leaned to rest her head on his shoulder, his warm and rather muscular shoulder. And to her surprise she drifted off.

 

A romantic meal with Gavin; that was where she drifted, they were both sat on the veranda, cicadas chirruping over the gentle sounds of Cole Porter that emanated from the stereo inside the lounge. The food was all her favourite things, huge buttery langoustines with a fresh salad, perfect fillet steak that Gavin had tentatively cooked himself on the gas barbeque, rare, pink in the middle. The meat fell apart in her mouth, the potato loaded with sour cream was divine. As Gavin emerged from the house with a large passion fruit and raspberry pavlova, he dropped to one knee, and as she looked down embedded in the cream on top of the dessert was a beautiful diamond ring.

Gavin smiled and opened his mouth....

                “Wake up Delilah...Delilah...” the hiss had an urgency to it. For a few seconds she rubbed her head into the shoulder she was resting against. Wanting Gavin back with his ring, with that smile....then she realised it had been a dream. She was really....shit. She opened her eyes and the dark room, the sparse barren walls, the pain in her shoulders, and now her hands, her feet tied to the chair legs. Gavin had been the dream and this was the reality.

Uncontrollably she started to scream, a loud unrecognisable noise, she could barely believe the sound was coming from her own lips.

                “Delilah! Please stop, it was a dream, that’s all, just a dream!”

Before she could take a breath, even try to control herself the smallest of the three men came over and rammed the butt of his gun down onto her left temple.  She had a second to shout before everything became black.

Quinn was finding the not knowing the hardest. Of all the things he’d ever done, the hardest single thing was watching her slumped against him barely breathing. Every now and again a small warmth would hint that she’d exhaled onto his arm. But other than that she’d not moved in what he guessed was three hours.

The kidnappers were angry; all he’d been able to make out was that the wonderful and frankly overrated Gavin had refused to pay anything.  He’d heard them talking and this wonderful Gavin was either denying that they had Lilah because of him being with her, or refusing to pay because of him. By posing as her partner he may have endangered her further. But what sort of man was this Gavin that he denied her at this very moment? Either stupid or jealous.

And there it was! Of course he was more than a boss, why else would she be so defensive of him, and he act like this? It made him even more despicable, knowing what she might be going through....he glanced down at her, the blood had stopped flowing from her head, a congealed mass evident in her otherwise beautiful hair, the textbook definition of dirty. On the bus her hair had been tied up in some sort of knot, but en route it had come loose and now hung around her shoulder, perfect except for the parch knotted and darkened by blood.  In sleep her face was angelic, full dark lips, long eyelashes that fanned her pale cheeks. Oh yes, she was a looker Quinn had to admit, and she had no idea. He was more concerned about what these ‘men’ would do to her if the ransom request fell through. She was too delicate for these animals, and if the worst happened, he shuddered as visions of the four swarthy men holding her down and violating her flashed through his mind, and him being sat tied up, forced to watch it. She would wish she’d died anyway if that happened...and it shocked him to realise that he felt the same way.

No he had to keep her strong, now that he was here, involved it was his job to keep her alert, and he knew that winding her up, angering her was probably the best way, no complacency when she was at his throat. With a sigh he moved his hand slightly, since being put on this seat he’d been rubbing the rope at his wrists over a screw on the leg of the chair, he wasn’t sure if he was getting anywhere, but undoing these ropes would be a start.

He’d worked out in his head that they were at the rear of a house, from the window earlier he’d seen out buildings, so they were definitely on a farm of some description, but in the mountains, that said deserted like nothing else. The muted sounds of TV came through the door from next door, what had began as some sort of drama had, from the grunts and groans, descended to US made porn.  Quinn had clocked with relief that three of the men had left an hour earlier, that had happened regularly through the day, and it was patterns like this that would be their downfall. He was going to get them out of this, he had to. Then he’d deal with that bastard Gavin, whoever he was. No one should treat a woman like that.