Текст книги "Hope To Escape"

Автор книги: Jack Parker

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"Oh, god!" Manda exclaimed what everyone else was feeling. "We've got to save her. We have to get her back from those . . . goons." She wrung her hands in her distress. It was bad enough when Max kidnapped Ess, and shocking when Martin took her, but now these dangerous and downright hostile strangers had the poor woman. The situation had now come to an impass. These big mobster-like men with genuine thug mentalities dragged innocent little Ess away to a location none of them knew.

"Well, actually," Martin cut in, "I do know the location of Angoli's estate. I do work for him as his arts acquisitionist, after all. I've delivered many works to his home, and acted as a curator for his personal gallery. Max, you remember. I brought you there once to assist in arranging one of his 'Esther Art' displays."

Max just gave him a deadly glare that said, 'The only reason I'm letting you live right now is because we need you'. Max knew that Martin was their best chance now of finding Ess. Martin knew it, too. That was the only reason he had had the guts to come out of hiding and face them.

"Why are we still standing here?" Manda bellowed, exasperated at the delay. "We need to get moving." Turning to Martin, she ordered him, "Martin, tell us where this Angoli guy's place is." She made this demand with the complete expectation of getting an immediate answer.

"No way," he replied back defiantly. "I'm not going to tell you." Then, with a smile he added, "But I will show you."

"Nuh uh! You are not coming with us." Apparently, Manda decided to take it upon herself to do the negotiating with this pompous little imp.

"Then I'm not telling you anything." Martin knew he still had the upper hand at the moment. As soon as he told them where Angoli's estate was located, he would no longer be of any use to them, and Max would undoubtedly resume thrashing him. Martin may be reckless, but he wasn't stupid.

"Martin," Max took his turn to speak, "Why the hell do you want to come with us?"

"Because," It seemed clear enough to Martin. "I had something Angoli wanted. I acquired what he was looking for, but instead of allowing me my credit, he sent his bodyguards to take her away from me. He stole my glory and my reward, and now I want to screw him over right back."

"Wow. You've got some serious vengeance issues. You know that is a clear psychological link to narcissism." Max replied, and gave Roden a meaningful look that made his friend snort with laughter. That sounded like an accurate analysis of the arrogant young con artist and thief.

"So, why'd you wait for us to come along if you want revenge? Why didn't you just go after them?" Manda was not buying this whole thing. She hated Martin even more now than she did when she initially found out that he used her and betrayed her. How could he be so inept as to let another group of men kidnap her friend, again? Poor Ess. She was changing the hands of kidnappers like a runway model changes clothes.

"Uh, well," Martin looked embarrassed. "I can't exactly start the car." He held up the keys in resignation.

"What?" Now it was Roden's turn to lose his cool. That car was his prized possession. "What the hell did you do to my car?" He yelled as he swiped the keys from Martin's hand.

"It's not what I did." Martin explained. "It's what they did. One of the guys opened the hood and took something out."

Roden let an enraged noise escape from his throat. His car, his beautiful Bimmer, and some scoundrel had his hands under the hood? Now he was on the verge of jumping on Martin, and taking out his frustrations all over his face.

"Now, now. Hold your horses," The old man spoke up. "Let me have a look see under the hood. I'm darn good with fixin' cars, if I may say it myself. Might just have an idea of what's wrong with it."

Manda stood back, having no interest in cars and no desire to get even filthier then she already was, while the other four bent over the motor. The sun's rays were barely making it through the trees as the sun finished its descent, so the old man had a flashlight in his hand.

"It was something over here on this side of the engine." Martin pointed to the general area on the passenger's side.

It only took a moment before the man started another of his singular chuckles. "Well, well. That's easy enough." He looked up at Martin. "Guess the guy that did this, knew that ya'd have no idea about the workin's of a car. All's he did was ta disconnect the coil wire to the spark plugs. Musta took it with 'im, though, 'cuz I don't see it. I'm sure I'll have one in my junk pile that'll fit the bill jist fine. Trouble is, my junk pile's in the shed by my house. Least a' hour there an' back. If ya don't mind waitin', I can go an' git it. The repair itself 'ill take no time."

Max looked fretfull, and Manda impatient. Still, what other options did they have? This was the quickest answer to their problem. "Fine," Roden delcared, "We can wait for that. If you'll just do whatever you need to do, we'd all be very grateful." Roden felt a bit guilty, because he had experienced so much worry for the welfare of his car when his true concern should have been for Esther's safety; but he felt too weary to keep such selfish and unhealthy thoughts under control.

The old man, noticing the fatigue that plagued Roden's eyes, offered him the use of his cot while he was gone. Manda, too, felt tired and needed a rest. Before heading out, he showed them to the storage room of the store, where a hammock hung next to the proffered cot. Sensing Manda's reluctance to climb into it, Roden offered to give her the little bed. To Roden's surprise, she thanked him with legitimate sincerity before settling down into it.

Max decided that resting would be the best use of his time, as well. It had to be better than anxiously sitting and waiting for the old man to return. He laid himself down in the back seat of the BMW, while Martin relaxed in the front passenger seat. The last thing Max remembered was thinking that Martin was too close for his comfort. Exhaustion only barely overrode that yearning to reach out and strike him again.

* * *

The next thing Max knew, the familiar rumbling of the old truck could be heard as it returned from the direction it had departed. He lifted himself from the cramped seat and noticed that the sun was rising above the trees. Oh, no! He came to with a jolt. Did they actually sleep the night away?

Max forced Martin awake and pushed him out of the vehicle. He strode with determined anger towards the old man as he was just getting out of the aged pick-up truck. They had lost several precious hours, and he wanted answers.

"Mornin'." the old man beamed.

"That's right," Max narrowed his eyebrows as he spoke. "It is morning. What I want to know is why is it morning? You should have been back hours ago. Esther is out there with some dangerous men, and you stroll back here like it's just another day on the job for you?"

If the old man was taken aback at all, he didn't show it. "The first time I came back was hours ago. Took care of the car an' everythin'. Every one of ya was out cold, sleepin' like the dead. Even my tinkerin' under the hood didn't stir ya. Figured ya needed it. 'Specially if ya have a run-in comin' up. Can't face your foes with worn-out bodies."

Max didn't know what to say. While he would rather have gotten going as soon as the car was fixed, he couldn't force the others to do so in such a state of useless weariness. The old man did have a point. It would be best to be refreshed when going up against Angoli.

"Come on in." The old man headed for the store. "Git yourself some coffee and we'll git ya on the road in no time."

* * *

About a half an hour and a full tank of gas later, they loaded themselves into the BMW, Max and Martin in the back, Manda in the front with Roden behind the wheel.

The old man gave Roden a nod, and said to "start 'er up". Roden did so with eagerness and trepidation, and the BMW roared to life. He gave a grateful sigh, contented by the reassuring vibrations of the running motor, and felt sure that he had never heard anything so wonderful in all his life. With a look conveying the extent of his absolute gratitude, he got back out of the car to offer the old man a hearty handshake. The old man in turn looked very proud of himself, and murmered something about how nice it was to be appreciated for one's skills.

Before they pulled away, Roden gave the old man another obliged handshake and thanked him thoroughly for all of his help.

"No thanks needed." The old man beamed back, leaning through the window of the car so that he could address them all. "It was my pleasure ta help. You jist do what ya need ta do now. Come back around soon, an' let me know how it all turned out. That'll be thanks enough for me."

"Certainly. No problem." Roden gave one last appreciative smile, and zipped off down the road. No one complained about his speed, not even Manda. It seemed to each of them that they couldn't get to where they needed to go fast enough.

"Alright," Max said after a few minutes. "Which way do we go from here, Martin?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ess sat on the immense bed in the over-sized bedroom, and waited. She had no choice but to wait. After the man with the broken nose had his men force her through the gigantic, elaborately adorned entry doors of the most ostentatious house she had ever laid her eyes on, she was dragged up a needlessly wide staircase that rose higher than the stairs to her third floor apartment. Ess made sure that the climb proved a challenge for the men, as she would not go to her doom peacefully. However hard she fought, though, in the end she ended up in an opulently decorated bedroom that was nearly twice the size of her own home.

The dark wood paneling and intricate deep-colored Indian style rugs lent a menacing feel to the space. The massive four-poster bed looked like an antique monstrosity in the middle of the room, while a dimly lit corner held a sitting area that consisted of a very formal looking chair and love seat. In front of an unlit fireplace, which had an ornately carved cherry wood and white marble mantle piece, sat an exceptionally dramatic chaise lounge. It looked poised and ready to catch a swooning damsel upon the entrance of Dracula or some other sinister creature.

If Ess hadn't been in dire circumstances, she would have been somewhat diverted with the spectacle and the grandeur. As it was, it only lent an aura of malice to her predicament.

Once in the room, the man with the broken nose gave her a quick tour, which was rather uncomfortable and awkward for both parties involved. He directed her to the large walk-in closet just off of her en suite bathroom. There were many outfits for all occasions, or so he made her aware, and all the clothes and shoes were in her size.

"Boss had all of your sizes and preference information given to a personal shopper. She took care of the details. If there's anything in there you don't like, Boss will have it replaced with something else." He didn't bother to hide his disinterest and distain for her as he spoke. Lastly, he instructed her to clean up and rest. It was late, and Angoli wouldn't be seeing her until the morning. "I'm leaving now. Too much girly shit for me for one day. Someone will be along to fetch you in the morning for breakfast. You'll be eating with Mr. Angoli, so you better be ready when you're called."

With that he swept out of the room, followed by his thugs who had been hovering at the doorway.

Ess spent a good hour checking any possible modes of escape, the obvious one being the door. She found that it had been locked from the outside, and there appeared to be no lock on the inside. How unfortunate. Her kidnappers could keep her in, but she wouldn't be able to keep them out. Next were the two large windows. The panes could be swung open, but there were bars blocking any attempt at escape. Even without the bars, the drop looked far too risky to attempt without causing severe injury. Even a ballsy move like climbing up the fireplace's chimney had been thwarted by the narrowness of its chute.

As all hope of escape diminished, Ess began to give in to the idea of her capture. She would have to play out her part for as long as she could. With this resolution in mind, she headed to the bathroom. The one positive thing to come of this change in circumstances would be a real shower.

The bathroom held a surprising number of products that Ess used on a daily basis, from her face lotion to her deodorant. There were a few extras, as well, such an imported Japanese night cream and a deliciously scented bottle of Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel. A quick rummage through the closet revealed a full wardrobe in her size, most of the clothes were actually in her taste, with a few gaudy exceptions.

Obviously, the kidnapping had been well planned out. They had to have broken into her apartment and gone through her things in detail in order to be so well prepared for her arrival. Ess had never even noticed. She never suspected anything in her home had been out of place, and had been so oblivious and passive to everything in her life that she didn't even realize it had been invaded. She became angry with herself for being so truly unaware. It was all her own fault that she found herself in this dilemma now. If she had only paid attention to the world around her, she could have been prepared, and may have been able to prevent her own demise. She had only herself to blame.

She resignedly turned on the shower and began to clean up. If there could be any chance for escape now, she must be alert and ever ready. There were no deluded hopes and vain plans now. Her only possibility would be opportunity . . . and maybe Max?

So, after the comforting shower, she simply sat on the bed, waiting for opportunity to offer itself, and fearing to permit herself to sleep. The bed proved very comfortable, however, and at long last, sleep finally did prevail.

The next thing she knew, someone had entered her room and thrown open the curtains. The light came streaming in, stinging her eyes, and making her surroundings appear out of focus. It was morning. Such sudden alertness caused her heart to pound the blood into her head, producing sharp pains throughout her skull. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she noticed a man standing beside her bed.

The wait was over.

* * *

"Tell me, Max," Manda turned towards the back seat, "Why was it you said that calling the police would be useless?" Max had mentioned it yesterday when they were walking to the car from the cabin, but he had never elaborated. Manda forgot to be skeptical about it at the time, so she decided to make up for it now as a means to break up the long silence in the car.

"Because," Martin interrupted before Max could speak, "Marcus Angoli controls the police force, along with every other government office in the city. They jump when he says jump and they look the other way when he gives them the ol' wink-'n-nod."

Manda gave him a dirty look for answering a question that had not been directed towards him, but continued her inquiry. "How come I've never heard of this guy then, since he has so much sway in the city? I would think that he'd be mentioned on the news or in the paper, or he'd be in the social gossip columns."

Martin had the answer on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated, lest he should receive another severe look from Manda. "Go ahead, Martin." Max cued. Obviously, Martin loved having all the answers on Angoli. He had always been a bit of a gossip about what he knew. That's how Max had come to be so informed about the man; and that's probably why, despite Martin's best efforts, Angoli would never promote him from his position as acquisitionist.

"Well, Mr. Angoli doesn't want to be in the media. He has control of that, too. Any kind of spotlight, whatsoever, jeopardizes his control. Can't have the federal authorities looking his way, so he stays behind the scenes. Kind of a recluse in a way. But no one makes a move without his approval."

"I see." Manda turned back around in her seat to ponder the new information. After a few minutes she asked another question. "So, all we have to do is get the feds involved?"

Roden and Max stiffened. What a simple answer. Why didn't they think of that before? But Martin counseled them that it wouldn't work. "As smart as that sounds, if we were to inform the feds of the kidnapping, they would just contact the local authorities so that they could avoid 'stepping on anyone's toes'. The local authorities would offer up some kind of lie or excuse or something in return. I just don't think it would go anywhere."

"Well, I don't believe a word you say. You are a liar, a thief and a kidnapper." Manda accused. "Not to mention, a horrible date." Max couldn't help but laugh in reaction to that last part, and Roden gave him a stern look through the rearview mirror, which went ignored.

"As much as I hate to say it," Roden spoke up, "I think Martin is right about that one. It would take quite a bit of convincing to get the feds to look into the corruption of the local precincts. Besides, it could take a while before they cut through all the red tape and move in on the local law enforcement's turf. We need to work fast. There is no time to lose on this. We can get the feds involved after we get Ess away from Angoli."

Everyone grudgingly agreed with that, and made the decision to move forward with a plan.

"What kind of security system does this place have?" That seemed to Roden to be the logical place to start.

"Oh, the security system is excellent. Very high tech. Not to mention, there are guards." Martin unleashed the negative aspects so that he could impress them with the only positive one. "I do happen to know one weakness, though. One little hiccup in the system that they don't know about. I actually used it once to get in and acquire a little artifact for another old client of mine. It was a posthumously exhibited painting by Ary Scheffer. My client owned quite a few of the others already, but Angoli would not sell him the one in his possession for any amount, just to spite this man. I told the guy I could acquire it, and I did. Got top fee, too. They still don't know who did it or how it was done. Angoli had the entire local police force working on it, too. Apparently – and this is the best part – he didn't have it insured. A man like that should know better; but then again, I do believe he came by it illegally himself."

"OK," Max prompted, "So what is this weakness?"

"There's a security fence around the entire property. It looks like a tall cast iron fence, but between the metal posts are lasers. If you put your hand through the posts, the laser will sting you. If you leave your hand there for any length of time, the laser power increases, and it stuns you. The same lasers are positioned above the fence, as well, so that you can't scale it.

"However, there is a spot, rather secluded, where even the dogs don't think to look. . . "

"Dogs?" Manda interrupted. "There are dogs?"

"Well, yeah," Martin replied, "What over-the-top security system would be complete without dogs?"

"Well, what do we do about them?" Manda asked, sounding a little distressed.

"That's the easy part. They may be trained killers, but they're still dogs. Give them something to munch on, and you're their best friend. These pretzel sticks here that Dr. Roden bought back at the gas station should be enough. Toss them a few of those, then toss them one of these pills, and they won't bother you again."

Martin pulled a sandwich bag out of his jacket pocket with a few pills in it. "What the hell are those?" Manda demanded.

"Rohypnol." Martin responded matter-of-factly.

"Rohypnol?" Roden, first stunned, quickly turned livid. "You mean roofies? Damn it, Martin, what the hell are you doing with those?"

"Never know when they could come in handy." Martin seemed to think it was nothing at all to possess the drug.

"Oh, my god! That's a date rape drug!" Manda appeared in to be in a new state of extreme emotion that Roden had not yet seen from her.

"Were you intending to use those on Manda during your date?" Roden's revulsion with Martin reached an all time high.

From the seat beside him, Max stared Martin down, ready to wallop him once again. Such an atrocious act could not go unpunished.

Martin became a little scared at that point, "No, no." He pleaded his side. "I had no intentions, whatsoever. I just keep them around for necessary circumstances; and in my line of work, there are many necessary circumstances. Really, I had no intentions with Manda at all."

While no one could find it in them to completely believe him, they let the accussations drop for the time being. Max did, however, confiscate the pills with a disgusted look of warning aimed towards the man next to him. Finally, Roden found his voice and asked Martin to continue with his explanation on the security weakness.

"Ah, yes, yes. Where was I?" Martin, happy to change the subject, quickly complied with the request. "Ah, yes, there is a secluded spot, where water collects when there has been a lot of rain. I've tested the lasers in that area because they often get flooded in the puddle. The water shorted out a couple of those lasers a long time ago, just as I had suspected. No one has ever caught on. At least they hadn't as of three years ago, when I broke in. If that is still the case, then we can squeeze through the bars there."

"Squeeze through the bars?" Manda asked. "Are they wide enough apart?"

"Well apparently, if I did it once already . . . " Obviously.

"Alright, then. We have a way in. Possibly." Max felt relief that at least one obstacle was out of the way. Now they needed to work out the next step in the plan. Their real issue wouldn't be getting in, it would be getting Ess back out.