It Wasn't The Bullet (11) “Don’t ask me to leave you, or give myself up.” She was terrified. “What we have to do is get out of here.” “Fucking obviously!” Samantha spat sarcastically, taking them both by surprise. She looked at him and he looked at her. Their mutual astonishment of her statement hung in the air for an eternity until they both started laughing. In between gasps of breath, Samantha managed to say, “Oh no, Charlie, I didn’t mean it to come out like that.” “Samantha that’s just all fine, you’re right. I couldn’t have picked a more stupid thing to say.” Their laughter spluttered to a halt. This time, Charlie vowed to himself, whatever happens between them, that this woman would never come to any harm. Ever. It would not happen again. “So…” She started to giggle from fear again and Charlie couldn’t suppress a fractured laugh himself. Then he started to think of where they were and what was going on around them. He and Samantha sitting in the car; wanted by the police and helpless with laughter. The whole situation was developing into a surreal situation. Another eternity passed until Charlie suddenly snapped into a cold hard serious villain. “Look Samantha, we have two choices. We either hide out here somewhere, or we get the fuck out of Dodge. I would imagine that soon there will be roadblocks and all the other kinds of containment procedures. It will take them at least another twenty minutes to get that together. You know this area don’t you?” “I bet they couldn’t have time to seal all the ways out of Brighton.” Charlie agreed, and asked her what she was thinking of doing. “Well I used to go on holiday down here a lot with my Auntie and she loved to drive around the back country roads. You know, over the farmland and the dirt lanes. I think I can remember my way almost to the cottage without ever going on a major road.” Charlie just looked at her with a kind of stunned admiration, and said, “What are you waiting for? Just drive, I’ll look out for the police. I’ll get in the back seat and try and crouch down; they’ll be looking for two people I think. It might throw the cops off a bit.” Charlie squirmed around a bit trying to manoeuvre his six-foot body into the rear seat, but the effort was misplaced and he gave up. With a contortionists effort he managed to get back in the front and hoped that Samantha’s memory was good enough to guide them to the relative safety of her Aunties house. As she carefully wound her way through the traffic and then onto narrow side streets with parked cars making the lanes even more hazardous, he determinedly set his mind to assess what had transpired in the last twenty-five minutes. The questions were fairly obvious. What was Green doing in Brighton? How many detectives did Green have with him? Was a task force sealing them in? After a moments reflection it occurred to Charlie that they might have had a tip off from one of the confidential telephone lines that encourage the public to report suspicious behaviour. It must have been convincing enough that Green came here himself for a look. It made sense; he was clearly assuming that Charlie was going to make a run for it. He also knew that Brighton was an old drop off point for the gear that came from Holland. He would figure that Charlie would know some people who had sea worthy yachts and, given sufficient money, would smuggle him out of the country. Someone may have seen a totally unrelated incident and come up with five. Wanted to be in the serious crimes good books and made a call. ‘Ok,’ judged Charlie ‘That is a fair enough explanation.’ He looked up at the road and saw they had left the packed side roads and were heading into the less populated outskirts of the town. He had forgotten that he was meant to be watching out for the police and apologised to Samantha. She smiled grimly, her face flushed with a red hue and told Charlie to make the plans to keep them safe and she would worry about the police. He squeezed her shoulder. He then lit another of the endless procession of cigarettes and pondered more into the future. His opportunity to confront Justin was now gone, at least for the time being. They had to get out of England and Europe was the only viable destination. He knew France very well and Terry had given him the address of a cottage that he said was owned by a friend of his. It sat uninhabited, but stocked with food for occasions when one had to be untraceable in a hurry. He had spent a fair amount of his late teens hitchhiking around the south and in his travels had discovered a number of isolated villages and knew that this area of the south was fairly well off the beaten path. The next problem was a little harder to solve. How to achieve that goal? Charlie let his mind go blank, he felt in control now, he knew that he would win, just like the thousand times before. Chapter Seven Mark my fuckin’ words The car was now bumping and bucking down an old, and what seemed to Charlie, a disused farm track. The fence posts on either side were holding up rusty and tired strands of barbed wire. Beyond the lush green fields to the south he could see the white caps of the English Channel dancing in the colourless late afternoon sun. To the north the fields began to rise up as they made their timeless journey to become part of the Sussex Downs that towered above them in the near distance. Charlie had had his eyes closed until a thump brought him back into focus. He saw that they were now on a rutted farm road. The mud was still hard baked from the summer and the car was bouncing over the tractor tyre grooves. He looked over at Samantha, she seemed possessed, her lips were pursed together and there were drips of perspiration on her forehead. He wound down the window to let some cool air into the car. Samantha jumped in her seat at the unexpected movement. “Whoa! What’s up?” Charlie said. “Oh my god, you startled me.” She turned briefly toward him looking highly embarrassed. Charlie felt bemused and compelled to ask why. She had now turned bright red and Charlie began to start teasing, “Samantha what were you thinking about? You look like you were miles away from here.” She focused resolutely on the road in front and tried very hard to ignore his question. “I was just day dreaming. Thinking of how close the feelings of danger and fear are to sex.” She stole a quick look a Charlie. “I feel kind of horny, in a weird way. Does it happen to you like that? I presume it’s not the first time you’ve been in situation like this.” Charlie was a bit taken aback at the question. He had to think for a moment. “I guess it effects everybody differently. I feel electric, vibrant, colours all seem richer, I feel untouchable. It’s even more dynamic when you’ve been in a fire fight.” He immediately regretted saying that. He looked at Samantha again, her persona had shifted gears and he left the silence there. He switched his mind to their escape. To get out of Britain was not easy, he could look up some old couriers but they knew Justin better than they did him, and it would be a simple matter for Justin to put the word out and he and Samantha would be together at the bottom of the sea in no time. So that left aeroplanes and boats. The airports were too easy to lock down and even if he could get a private plane to fly them out it would be far more risky than trying to escape by boat. However they did it, there would be money involved somehow. They had the cash from his stash in the park but it would not be enough to carry them through the months before it would be somewhat safe for him to return. He had only one real option, his ‘hidden treasure’ as Terry used to call it. It would take some coordination but he was sure that it could be done. The next thing, and more pressing, was transport. He knew that by now Green would have put a trace on Samantha and her car. It would be a complete surprise if there were not a bulletin out right now with the make and model. He wondered how far in the background of Samantha’s day to day life her Auntie was. They both needed at least four or five hours of sanctuary before attempting their escape. He leant forward and turned on the, after several burst of static on the am band; he found a local all news station. The announcer burbled on with updates of regional road works and community happenings until he reached the quarter hour when he read out the breaking news. He spoke of a multi vehicle accident on the M23, a foiled bank robbery in Eastbourne and an unprovoked attack on a policeman in Brighton. He introduced the ‘on the spot’ reporter.
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