Red Dragons

by K W Frost

  Whittingham paused, weighing up his next move.

  ‘I’m sure Snake is feeling disappointed as he would’ve liked to be the one to persuade you. Still, he may yet get his chance at the gratuitous violence that he seems to enjoy. ‘

  Whittingham turned swiftly to face the three mob members.

  ‘He’s yours,’ he barked. ‘I don’t want is body to be found.’

  Snake smiled.

  ‘Don’t worry, we have our own graveyard where he can join some other slime balls that we put there.’

  Child turned and looked quickly around, but there was no escape. The sawn-off shotguns dominated the situation. He would be dead before he had taken two steps. It seemed like he had only one chance, as they wouldn’t risk hurting the boss of the show. He knew he must move quickly before Whittingham moved out of range.

  Child turned towards Snake, and almost in slow motion he hit him hard in the solar plexus. Snake jack-knifed forward. Child grabbed him by the arms and turned him towards the thug with the gun. Thrusting Snake as hard as he could towards the gunner, Child took two steps and dived at Whittingham before he had a chance to react and move away.

  Child caught Whittingham with a classic rugby tackle from behind, arms went around his thighs bringing them together, and they both crashed onto the concrete floor. Quickly, Child rolled sideways, still holding Whittingham tightly, while trying to protect his own body. He then came up into a half crouch, pulling Whittingham up with him, his right hand slipped around Whittingham’s throat. Child looked up at the advancing mob members who had spread out, but they stopped in their tracks as Child made eye contact with them.

  ‘Stop there, now! Or your boss loses his head,’ yelled Child.

  The men spread out further, circling around Child.

  Child pulled Whittingham up to standing. He backed up, trying to keep all three in front of him. He dragged Whittingham back up against his car. If only Child could get in and get it started in time.

  Snake snarled as he slowly advanced, still hunched over from the blow he had received.

  ‘No guns or knives, Wolfman needs to stay alive. Let’s get him,’ Snake shouted before lunging forward, swinging a short batten type club that he had magically produced.

  Child pushed Whittingham at Snake to halt his advances, but instead of letting go of his right-hand Child swung Whittingham around and into the path of the other two mobsters. Whittingham screamed as the rapid change in direction tore at the muscles of his shoulder. Letting go of Whittingham’s arm, Child turned, opened the car door and dove inside.

  Child had almost made it inside when Snake recovered and lunged against the car door, jamming Child’s ankle. With a savage thrust from his other leg, the car door swung open to free his ankle. Snake grabbed the door and dove in full length on top of Child. For the next thirty seconds a frantic struggle took place in the front seat of Whittingham’s car. Each man used knees, elbows fingers — anything to hurt the other. Desperate to escape the tussle, Child got on top of Snake and raised his hand to finish him off.

  Suddenly, the bulky mobster appeared at the driver’s door and opened it. He hit Child twice on the head with short savage blows, made worse from the brass knuckle-dusters he had slipped onto his hand.

  Child slumped forward, semiconscious.

  Dragging Child from the car, the bulky mobster dumped him onto the ground. Snake crawled from the car and started kicking Child mercilessly. Angry blows thudded into Child’s unprotected midriff, and three kicks landed on his face. If Snake had been wearing his normal steel capped boots, Child would have died then and there. As it was, the mobster’s Adidas sneakers did considerable damage.

  For the second time within a week gang members had beaten Child senseless.

  Whittingham came around the side of the car, holding his arm tenderly after Child’s attack. He looked down at the battered and bleeding body of Child.

  ‘As I said before — kill him and I don’t want the body found. You boys will get a bonus for this.’

  Whittingham turned back to his car.

  ‘Oh, damn… clean this blood off the front seat, will you.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Harrison turned to Eagle One.

  ‘You heard, they’re about to kill him. I must call in,’ demanded Harrison.

  ‘No,’ replied Eagle One, firmly.

  ‘Damn it, we can’t just ignore it? We’ve got to call in!’ urged Harrison.

  ‘No, nothing must stop the tracking of the main man behind the component.’

  ‘Bugger you this isn’t the states. I’m not going to put up with your petty games. We value human life here, I’m calling in,’ said Harrison, pulling out his police radio.

  ‘I said, no! I am in charge here, and those were your instructions. You are the liaison person with local police, and your instructions were to offer my team every assistance that we require. We cannot afford to call in, they may have someone monitoring the police communication bands.’

  Eagle One’s voice demanded attention and obedience.

  ‘Target is on the move,’ interrupted Eagle Three, looking out of the back window towards the warehouse door.

  ‘Who has come out?’ asked Eagle One, before turning back to a fuming Harrison. ‘Five minutes and then you can call in, okay. They can’t get too far in that time, we have a job to do first.’

  ‘Well… alright,’ agreed Harrison reluctantly.

  Harrison’s brief had been very specific and he was to follow all instructions from the Eagle team. He knew his presence was more of a courtesy, than necessity.

  He carefully drove the surveillance van back towards the warehouse.

  ‘Follow the large car,’ instructed Eagle One.

  Harrison followed the large black limousine until it stopped at a traffic light. Pulling up in the next lane, they stopped only one back from it. As soon as they stopped, Eagle Two slipped out the back door.

  Ducking below the window level, Eagle Two approached on the passenger side and slipped past the first car. He was on his back, just reaching up to attach the homing device to the back bumper, when the lights changed to green.

  Whittingham speed off and Eagle Two had to roll desperately to one side to prevent being run over by the following car.

  Harrison rolled the NZTS van forward and Eagle Two scrambled through the back door, gasping.

  ‘Bugger, he was just too quick for me. Get me right behind him and I won’t miss a second time.’

  Eagle One turned to Harrison.

  ‘You heard him get right behind him. Go.’

  Harrison accelerated after Whittingham. The limousine had distinctive tail lights, making it easy to distinguish from other cars up ahead.

  Suddenly, a vehicle shot out of a side street.

  It wasn’t until the last second that Harrison caught the flash of the approaching car in his peripheral vision.

  All too late, the young driver saw the van and jammed on the brakes before crashing head on into the side of the van. Harrison had braked violently and turned away just before contact.

  Highlander luxury four-wheel drive multipurpose vehicles had recently become popular even in the central city. The young driver had borrowed it from his parents to impress the girls down the main street.

  The Highlander’s bumper bar crashed into the side of the van pushing it inwards by two feet. Eagle One and Three were tossed to the far side of the van, bruised but uninjured. Eagle Two sustained a small cut on his left arm as a piece of flying equipment hit him.

  While the damage to the people was minor, the equipment had suffered. Computers had been tossed around on impact, smashed onto the floor, wires dangling and power lost.

  As soon as the van slid to a standstill, Harrison turned around to see the damage inside.

  ‘Are you guys okay back there?’ he called.

  Shaking himself off, Eagle One quickly looked around and realised that his team members were fine. Looking out the front window, he saw the light
s of Whittingham’s disappear around the corner. He whacked his fist against the side of the van in frustration.

  ‘Yeah, we’ll survive,’ Eagle One responded.

  ‘Good, well, can I call in now?’ asked Harrison, not as concerned about losing the vehicle as the Eagle team. They still hadn’t told him anything about why it could be

  significant.

  ‘Sure, call in if you want to,’ replied Eagle One irritably. ‘The tracking machine that we could’ve used to follow Child looks like that now anyway,’ he said, gesturing towards a heap of junk on the floor. ‘It’s no bloody good to us now.’

  34C kiwi listened to the report from Eagle One without saying anything. The call was disconnected without comment.

  There was nothing to say.

  Everything had gone wrong in a freak accident.

  Now Child was going to be killed, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Child slowly regained consciousness. Then he began to feel the pain. Surprisingly, the worst pain was the twisted position he was in. His arms were taped behind his back. The kicks had caused a lot of bruising but no lasting damage. More water splashed down on his head. As Child moved, he couldn’t resist the low moan of pain that crept from his lips.

  ‘Ah, he wakes,’ spat Snake. He crouched now and grabbed a handful of Child’s hair, twisting his face upwards. ‘Get ready for your last hour alive, arsehole.’

  Child struggled to collect his thoughts. He wondered why he wasn’t already dead. Bells started going off in his head. He tried to concentrate, determined to regain his wits or else he soon would be dead. As the beeping sound stopped, he was partly relieved to see a hand appear with a cellphone in it.

  ‘It’s for you, Snake.’

  Snake grabbed the phone.

  ‘Yeah?’ he growled into it.

  Snake listened for a couple of minutes, while Child remained motionless on the floor.

  ‘Yeah, I get yah,’ Snake concluded before handing the phone back to the driver.

  ‘I thought that you were a smarty,’ snarled Snake. ‘That was Wolfman — he’s just checked out that board you gave him. It doesn’t do what it’s supposed to. But man, you’re lucky cos he don’t care any more. All we got to do is kill yah then we’ll visit your place and find it. We might just smoke your place too.’

  Snake burst into a wicked laugh.

  Child went cold. Samantha was going to stay at his place until he returned.

  The van drove along the tar-seal road for another ten minutes. Child lay cramped on the floor, trying to manoeuvre into a position to free himself.

  Child knew that packing tape can be a very effective holding bond, but it does have the disadvantage of tearing easily once a rip has occurred.

  ‘Sit still, you’ll get your chance to move soon enough,’ barked Snake.

  Snake seemed to revel in Child’s discomfort. He prodded him with the sawn-off shotgun to help get the message through.

  Just then, the van turned onto a rougher, bumpy road. As the vehicle bounced along, Child’s head repeatedly hit the floor. There was no way he could’ve kept still with the bumps, so Child moved his hands up and down on the floor behind him, seeking the sharp edge he needed to tear the tape.

  The further they travelled along, the worse the road got. It was obvious that they were on a disused track, which told Child was that his time was rapidly running out. However, the wild bouncing gave Child what he wanted.

  As he landed after a bigger bump, his hands felt a sharp edge from a popped rusted rivet. Desperately, he pushed downwards, ripping the edge of the tape. Once, twice, five times he used the bouncing of the van to push his wrists against the edge. Finally, he felt the tape catch and give on one side of his fused wrists. He pulled and pushed, using the movement of the van to hide his actions.

  Soon, a second piece of tape caught and tore.

  The final turn of tape stretched enough for Child to free his hands. He kept them tucked tightly behind his back, only moving his right hand to slide up the inside of his left arm and free the sharp blade he had hidden there previously. Just in time, he was ready for action as the van slowed and jolted to a stop.

  Child moved so that he lay on the floor facing the door. Snake saw this as being cooperative.

  ‘Don’t be in too much of a hurry, arsehole, we need to take that spade with us. You’re going dig a grave.’

  Snake leant over Child, grinning widely as he broke into laughter again.

  Child decided that this man was quite definitely clinically mad.

  Child took a long deep breath as he heard the crunch of the other two mob members walking around to the back doors. Looking up, he carefully selected the spot that he was going to strike at Snake.

  As the van doors clicked open, Child acted.

  His left hand darted up under the gun barrel catching it in the V he had formed between his thumb and forefinger, and forced it to point towards the roof. His right hand swung around, the sharp blade flashed as his hand thrust towards Snakes throat. Frustratingly, the time spent cramped on the van floor coupled with his poor starting position meant that Child missed his target: the major arteries running to Snake’s head. However, the blade cut through the top of Snake’s trapezius muscle running up to his neck.

  Child wasted no time trying again. Almost in the same movement, he kicked out with both feet, smashing the doors open into the two mobsters outside. One was caught squarely on the chest and staggered away before tripping backwards. The other was merely surprised, as the doors had missed him. He was given no chance to recover. Child thrust his feet down and rocketed out of the van, shoulder charging the second mobster and knocking him off balance. He staggered away too.

  Child then darted down the side of the van and into the dark trees that ran along the disused track they had driven down.

  Child sprinted as fast as he could. The pine forest they had stopped in was not heavily overgrown, and the soft, springy covering of pine needles dampened Child’s footsteps as he dashed between the trees. He hadn’t gone ten metres when the sounds of a pursuit started.

  ‘Shit, get after him…’

  ‘Over there, I saw him!’

  ‘Catch the stupid arsehole!’

  The sound of a shotgun blast shattered the silence of the night. Bark chips flew off the tree on Child’s right, stinging his face. He dashed left, trying to see into the darkness under the trees. The half moon made odd shadows as it pierced the holes in the pine canopy, and occasional clearings appeared. Child didn’t hear the running feet behind him. Only the occasional grunt let him know that the mobsters were still after him.

  Pungas are one of the few plants able to survive in the acid soil created by pine needles. The thick vegetation reached out to Child as he weaved his way through the forest. Suddenly, Child tripped over a rotting branch that had been disguised by the carpet of pine needles. Jumping to his feet again, Child changed direction and headed away from the grunting noises growing louder behind him.

  Up ahead he saw the trees thinning, and a line of clear space came into view. A road and a fire break combined.

  There was no way round.

  Child had to cross.

  Child sprang out from the trees onto the road and sprinted across. He veered sharply left, took five more steps and then turned right. Still no gun shot sounds. Child hoped they hadn’t seen him. Then, just as he was about to plunge into the darkness of the forest, his foot slipped into a ditch and Child stumbled down.

  A shotgun blast shattered the night. Child saw the brush ahead of him dissolve as the pellets from the gun blasted into them. Child didn’t stop his forward momentum and moved into a shoulder roll as he went down. He sprang back up onto his feet and dashed down a small valley on his left.

  Twenty metres down in the valley, Child turned left and saw a small gully branching upwards. Climbing quickly, his breath coming in quick gasps, he saw a shallow depression near the top with a small
punga plant covering most of it. Child burrowed into the hollow, and started to control his breathing as he peered out from under the leaves, his eyes scanning the ridge to see what was happening back on the road.

  From his slightly elevated position he could clearly see the three mob members, each one lit up by the bright moonlight.

  The road seemed to mark a change in the pursuit. All three mob members were unfit, preferring to ride than walk anywhere. Although the search had only lasted three minutes, the pace had been frantic and it had affected them badly. Bent over each man was gasping for breath. They knew their shots had not hit Child.

  It took a minute before any of them could speak. Snake turned to the silent forest and let out a strangled yell.

  ‘I know you can hear me, arsehole! Don’t think you can get away… we know this forest like the back of our hands. You can’t hide for long. Hey, arsehole, I can’t hear you!’

  Child remained motionless and silent in his hiding spot. He looked down at Snake on the road, thinking that next time he would make a better job on him.

  ‘You can’t escape,’ Snake called out again. ‘You’re miles from anywhere! We’re going to get you, arsehole, and then we are going to finish you off properly.

  Child wondered what Snake would do if he realised that his prey was only twenty metres away, watching his every move.

  Snake turned to the bulky mob member, lowering his voice.

  ‘Slab, go back to van. Bring it around to this point and park here. Ring up Jack and tell him we need some help to flush this boy out. When they arrive make sure to surround this block. It’s only about a kilometre square. Then go through it ’til you find him.’

  Snake watched Slab slope off into the darkness, before turning to the other mob member.

  ‘Manu, there’s a corner about fifty meters back down the road — go there. You can watch both ways for about half a K or so. Yell out if he tries to cross.’