Chapter Seventeen: An unexpected kidnap

Chapter Seventeen

An unexpected kidnap

Bunco clambered awkwardly into the cockpit of the Red Kite and flopped, red faced and panting into the pilot's chair. He, wordless, breathing heavily for nearly a full minute before the metallically feminine tones of the Red Kite finally broke the silence.

"Been overdoing the cucumber sandwiches, Sir Bunestrum?"

The red faced little man grinned, in spite of himself. "That and the Steak and Ale pie, Red m'dear!" He wriggled into a more comfortable seating position and then began to fiddle with the straps of the harness. "Truth is I'm not really designed for all this climbing ladders and squeezing into aeroplanes. That kind of thing is much more up Tris's alley."

"In that case you will be pleased to know that three very unhappy looking engineers have already stowed your equipment in my hold, so we're ready to go whenever you want to tell me where we're going?"

The machine's intonation made it clear that this was more of a question than a statement, and that answers were expected, rather than requested.

Bunco snapped his harness shut and settled back into the seat. "If you don't mind, red old girl, I'll get you to do the flying, you're better at it than I am. I'll take care of the shift at the end though."

The metallic reply held just an edge of frustration. "Of course, Sir Bunestrum. If you would be so good as to give me the destination?"

"Tris needs us to meet him at the Broch."

"Very good."

Without further comment the Red Kite dropped out of the hanger bay and unfurled her graceful wings as she plummeted into the night sky.

-oOo-

Brian and Vicky drove silently through the darkened streets. Vicky had always regarded Brian as a bit of a creep, but he'd offered her a lift home and she'd rather have his company than none at all. Besides, he had been on Coca-Cola all night. The awkward silence continued to be awkward, however.

She'd been with Mike for seven years, and had never openly disagreed with him in all that time - in spite of his opinionated rants and dogmatic views. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd disagreed with what he'd said, and she had no idea why she'd spoken out in defence of Ellie - why she considered to be patronising and stuck up, and in support of Brian, who she considered to be a creepy little weed.

But the silence was becoming oppressive and she couldn't bear it much longer. Vicky thrust her hands deeper into her pockets and sought for some small talk she could use to lubricate the situation. "So, what do you think happened to Ellie then?"

Brian's silence did not break for almost a minute.

When he finally he responded his voice was slow and thoughtful. "I don't know. Something."

Suddenly he pulled his little Micra roughly to the side of the road and turned off the lights. Vicky was startled - even more so when Brian placed a hand on her shoulder, but she relaxed a little when she realised his attention was not in any way focussed on her, but on a scene unfolding about twenty yards further down the street.

Outside the little parade of shops a few yards ahead a black clad man in a bowler hat was apparently arguing with a much larger man standing beside a souped up VW Camper.

"What's going on?" Vicky was bemused - Brian was not known for unpredictable behaviour.

"Shhh!" Brian leaned forwards in his seat, trying to get a better look. "That's where Ellie's flat is!" he hissed.

Vicky shook her head, the large gold hoops in her ears clanking against her neck. "So?"

The Copper that came and spoke to me after she disappeared, he asked if I'd seen a man wearing all black with a bowler hat!" He gestured to the shorter of the two men beside the camper van. "I hadn't. But I have now! It looks like he's back!"

-oOo-

"You said you wanted to help!" Tristian stood next to the open door of the camper, hands raised in frustration that was also reflected in his voice.

"I do!" Samar's face was set in something resembling a growl. "But that was before you wanted me to go to Scotland for goodness sake!" He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

Tristian turned to face the bigger man. "Look, if we're going to get Ellie back I'm going to need equipment and a stable base of operations. I can't do it here - certainly not without putting your mother and everyone in this city in danger." he gave Samar a shove. "Now get in the bloody 'van!"

-oOo-

Twenty yards up the street Brian and Vicky watched as the man in black seemingly forced Samar into the back of the 'van. Brian growled. "Something's up!" He was already clambering out of the car. "Call the police Vicky - I'm going to find out what's going on!"

He was out of the car and halfway towards the camper van before Vicky could object.

-oOo-

Samar slumped resignedly into the camper's bench seat raising his hands in mock surrender. "OK, OK, I'll call my sister in the morning and get her to come and give Ma a hand while I'm away and-"

He stopped talking as a figure blurred past the open door and knocked Tristian to the ground. Samar leapt to his feet but by the time he reached the door of the 'van Tristian was already on his feet holding his now unconscious assailant be the scruff of the neck. He gave Samar a bemused look.

"No idea what this chap's issue is, and we don't have time to find out. Can you keep an eye on him if I bung him in the back with you?"

Samar shook his head. "We can't just take unconscious people off the street!"

Tristian threw the dead weight of Brian over his shoulder, strode to the camper, and dumped him onto the vehicle's floor, pushing Samar out of the way as he did so.

"Look," he said evenly, fixing the big man with that steely gaze of his, "he attacked me. There must be a reason for that. Maybe he's just a common thief, but maybe he's with The Auditors, and if he is we can't afford to leave him behind."  Tristian slid the side door of the camper closed with a "thhhrump" that brooked no argument and clambered into the driver's seat. "Now, make yourself comfy," he called over his shoulder as he pulled away from the curb. "It's about eight and a half hours to where we're going, and I don't intend to stop!"

Twenty yards away, on the passenger seat of Brian's old Nissan Micra, a nearly hysterical Vicky tried to explain what was happening to a bemused 999 operator, who assured her that a police car was on its way to her location.

She dropped the phone and sobbed uncontrollably.