Counterpoint

by John Day

  Teal was about 300 metres away when his men were spotted, so Gregor’s men turned back for the cover of the warehouse. Teal and his men were out in the open and would be cut down by the automatic weapons, fired by Gregor’s men.

  The criminals started to run, but faltered and stopped. Framed in the large lit doorway of the warehouse was a young girl clutching a machine gun in each hand, the butts pinched tightly between elbows and ribs. Teal and his men watched tensely while scurrying closer.

  Her slight build and shoulder length blond hair gleaming healthily in the yellow light was at odds with the situation. She stood perfectly still, her slim legs placed slightly apart for stability, were clad in tight fitting black trousers.

  The two machine-guns pointed menacingly at Gregor and his men, broke up the shapely silhouette formed by her stylishly tailored black jacket. The profile of her face showed a mask of intense concentration, from Teal’s viewpoint; though Gregor saw her grin wickedly at him.

  It was bound to happen, one girl against 20 or so hard men. Two of them leapt sideways and drew their own guns. The girl fired both her guns simultaneously, one at each man, the recoil juddered her frail body backwards slightly as she leant into their recoil. With a spray of six bullets, neatly grouped into each body, the men hit the floor stone dead without getting a shot off themselves.

  By now Teal and his men swarmed around Gregor and Carla, shouting to drop their weapons.

  Not wishing to provoke Teal’s men, Carla cautiously lowered her guns and placed them on the ground in front of her, placing her hands behind her head and stepped back. Someone shouted almost hysterically for her to lie on the ground, as Teal moved close to her, covering her with his own gun.

  “You must be joking,” she said, turning to face Teal for the first time, “I’m wearing Gucci.” She then gave Teal her stunning smile. Her beautiful face was half lit as she turned. Teal felt something stir deep in the core of his being as he studied this fascinating girl before him. All his tensions relaxed as he took in her features. The slightly pert nose, defiant twinkling eyes and perfect white teeth, as her smile grew warmer.

  “Christ, ” he thought, “She is so sweet, so young and innocent looking, ” he just wanted to hold her tight and protect her. His whole body was relaxing as he came under her spell, her scent reached him, so delicate and understated.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” shouted Teal, “Lara Croft”

  “She’s just fiction, I’m the real thing!” she quipped.

  More shouting from the operative demanding she lay on the ground, snapped Teal back to reality, he raised his gun to cover her.

  “OK! OK! I have her,” he said as the operative backed off. “I take it; you are on our side, “smiled Teal.

  “Yes Agent Teal” she said as though she had known him for a long time. He was taken aback that she appeared to know him.

  “So you are the mysterious girl who phoned me about the friend and his son, being held prisoner by Gregor Yeltsin!”

  Carla just smiled as a reply.

  Just as quickly, her face was serious, “I can’t find my friend, but I suspect he is in that thing,” she said pointing to the cylinder drifting across the water.

  Teal barked orders, “Get that container back here, there may be someone inside it, watch out for surprises and possibly booby-traps.”

  The ship’s crew were mainly working in the warehouse, so only four were on board when Teal’s men boarded her. As yet, no one had got round to warning anyone in Yeltsin’s organisation.

  As the eight divers surfaced, they were arrested and taken away with all the others, except Gregor and John.

  Teal’s helicopter was used to tow the cylinder back to the dock, it being quicker than finding a motor launch that early in the morning.

  Minutes later, FBI men undid the cover plate and released Max. Teal was rather jealous when he saw Max and Carla together, the warmth and devotion that shone in their faces, for each other, as they hugged.

  Teal interrupted them and was about to arrest them when Max forestalled him.

  “The warehouse is full of missiles and nuclear weapons,” he said,

  “Buyers are due here today, so if you get organised, you will probably catch them, as well. I also know who is who,” Max lied.

  Teal only took a couple of seconds to weigh up the situation and deferred their arrest until later.

  “I have some welcome news for you as well” beamed Teal “Your son is safe. The police arrived just in time and had to shoot the man called Nikolai, he had a gun to James’s head and was about to pull the trigger.

  “I heard two shots over the phone,” said Max.

  “Yes, that was from two of the armed police, one shot through the base of the neck to paralyse him and one through the head.

  Teal’s team took Gregor’s men’s clothes as a disguise, and beavered about the warehouse looking busy, while Max and Carla, Gregor and John were kept under close scrutiny.

  “The trick will be to make the early buyers feel at ease while the others arrive,” said Max to Teal. “Gregor and John must be clearly visible, but unavailable, apparently preoccupied with some business problem.”

  “I will organise a doctor to give them a drug so we can question them and it will also allow us to speak to them when the buyers arrive, but they won’t be able to warn them,” commented Teal.

  “You two will stay here as well, so we can keep an eye on you.”

  According to an informant, Teal had a good idea of how business should go and briefed everyone. A computer expert worked on Gregor’s office computer, and with the information Gregor and John gave when drugged, they printed off the list of armaments for sale. Each buyer was to be given a list, they would indicate what they wanted, and a secret bid would be made. The highest bidder got the goods.

  Money would be transferred from their account to that of Gregor’s using the computer, and then the goods would be loaded.

  The FBI created an account of their own in the Cayman Islands to receive the buyer’s money.

  Tracking devices would be fitted to each crate so the loads could be followed to the final destination and teams of Agents were standing by to follow the weapons.

  “I want you two,” he said to Max and Carla “To check the loading. You will be told what each buyer is to take from the computer operator, this way we can keep an eye on you at the same time.”

  They looked at each other knowingly; escape was not going to be easy this time.

  As preparations were being made for the buyers’ arrival, Max watched the computer technician familiarise himself with the system. There was no doubt the man was brilliant at what he did, in no time at all, he worked out all he needed to run the programs. It looked like the FBI would pull this trick off, and no one would be the wiser.

  Max asked the man how the money transfer worked. The man saw no reason not to explain, in layman’s terms at least.

  “I set up the account numbers and log onto the banks involved. The buyer types in his details, account number, amount, passwords and so on, then I press the transfer button here,” he said, pointing to the screen “And wait for my bank to confirm the cash has been received. Pretty fool proof really,” he said smugly.

  “Yes, ” agreed Max, “Very impressive” and suggested he had better check where all the various crates were, so loading would be trouble free.

  He and Carla went over to Teal, to tell him what they had decided to do, but anticipating their desire to escape somehow, he said “Only one of you can leave the office at a time, for the moment. By the way,” he added, “Tell the computer technician to set up a dummy run with a consignment list and you find the items ready to load.”

  “Right, ” said Max willingly and they both walked back to the office.

  “What are those two up to now?” muttered Teal and returned his concentration to the task in hand.

  Max walked back into the little office and told the technician Teal wanted him; he wants
you to do a dummy run or something. The man got up and walked across the warehouse and spoke to Teal. When he got there, both men turned to see Max and Carla were still in the office. “Those two are up to something,” snapped Teal to the technician, “Don’t trust them an inch.” then he repeated his instruction given to Max, about the trial run.

  Chapter - The arms sale.

  With everything in place, the buyers started to arrive. There were ten altogether, and they wanted to speak to Gregor. They could see him, and he could see them, but were told, he was busy, and would be out to see them as soon as possible.

  The lists were issued, and some crates were opened, to let the buyers check the weapons were intact and worth buying. Fortunately, Gregor’s reputation as a trusted dealer went a long way to speed up the checking process.

  Bids were made, and with a bit of manipulation of figures by the FBI technician, no one would be leaving empty handed.

  The computer technician showed each buyer what to type in and then he made the transfer. When the funds were confirmed, he issued Max or Carla a list for loading.

  Teal was surprised at how well they worked together, though their air of confidence nagged at him. Surely they knew they would be arrested, when the sale was over.

  Max and Carla were feeling a little smug, but it was nothing to do with escape. As yet, they had no plan and could see a remarkably little chance of getting away, so far, Teal and his men were watching them extremely closely.

  The last few crates were about to be loaded when Max said “Hop into an empty crate, and I will load you on this last lorry.” Carla would have argued, but it was probably the only chance for her to escape, Max might find an opportunity later.

  As she walked over to the dark corner of the warehouse, Teal spotted her and called her back. “Go to the office and tell the technician to lock you in. Your partner will be finished in a minute, and he will join you. If you get bored, you can talk to Gregor, he will tell you all about himself.”

  For the moment, Carla did as she was told, and left Teal chuckling to himself.

  The technician stepped out of the office and locked the door; it was time for a well-earned smoke he thought.

  With the last crate loaded, the forklift trucks were parked and switched off.

  The men started a systematic search of the few remaining crates in the warehouse and Wilcox told Max to go and wait in the office.

  Chapter - The Booby trap.

  As Max walked across the open floor the soft explosion of a large glass vessel high above in the roof made him look up as shards of glass fell around him. A rapidly expanding grey mist descended and quickly filled the warehouse.

  Before it could reach him, Max dashed to the office door, unlocked it and ran in, slamming the door closed behind him. Max sank to the floor, gasping, white as a sheet with shock and terror at what happened.

  Carla had heard the explosion and tinkling glass and watched in horror as the mist reached the FBI men. One breath and their faces contorted in agony, they fell writhing soundlessly for a few seconds then lay still. She was close enough to see the blood run out of their nose, mouth, eyes and ears and drip in shiny crimson pools on the dirty concrete floor.

  Shocked to her very soul, at what she had just witnessed, she refused to comprehend that the bloodied faces belonged to the FBI men she had been working with. She backed away from the door, her eyes fixed on the dense white death mist pressing on the glass. She knew it must be all around the outside of the room, searching for a hole or gap in the structure to reach its next victim.

  She bumped into the table where Gregor and John sat quietly, still in a drugged state.

  Whirling round, she screamed at Gregor, “You bastard, what is this white mist that’s killing everyone? “

  He looked dazed, not understanding the question without context. She asked again in a calmer voice. “You set a booby trap in the roof of the warehouse, a white mist or smoke came from it making people bleed to death.”

  Gregor replied in a monotone and a matter-of-fact way. “It is a binary chemical weapon. Massive haemorrhage results in seconds and the victim drowns in their own blood when it gets into the lungs.”

  Carla’s blood turned to ice water, and she felt dizzy, blackness was closing in on her vision.

  “It’s got me” flashed through her brain and a flood of adrenaline poured into her system. In fright mode now, her symptoms disappeared as the faint, for that is all it was, vanished.

  Her lightning quick brain understood the problem, the solution was obvious, but the implementation seemed impossible. How to get from the confines of this isolated room, across the warehouse through the deadly mist into the fresh air outside, without it touching her or Max in any way. A spacesuit would be handy, or a special outfit the chemical and germ warfare scientists’ use, but nothing like this would be found here.

  The synapse continued to explode in her brain like a public firework display as she furiously searched everywhere in the room for an answer.

  Max got up and tried to focus on the problem, like Carla, he knew they had to get out somehow. The walls of the office were very solid, no way out that way. There were certainly no protective clothes here, just the usual things you would find it in an office. Paper, pens and paper clips.

  Seeing the remainder of a roll of large plastic bin liners and idea sprang to mind. Unrolling them, he found twelve left.

  Chapter - Escape from the warehouse.

  “Can we make protective suits out of this Carla?”

  “Well, dressmaking was never my strong point, but now our lives depend on it, I could be persuaded!”

  Using some wide parcel tape, Max sealed around the door to keep the mist out and buy more time. The door had been fitted well anyway to keep out noise and was probably the only reason they were still alive. Carla slipped off her shoes, slid a bin-liner over each leg and slipped the shoes on again. This should prevent the thin plastic tearing on the rough floor as she walked.

  Deftly she cut two slits along the bottom seam of the third bag and pulled it on like knickers. Max helped her carefully seal the bag with tape at the top of her legs, she was nearly done.

  Max did the same with other bags, but added two for his arms.

  With a paper knife, he prized off the clear plastic face of the postage scales and used it as a faceplate, on his bag, covering the top of his body.

  He could easily and quickly fit and seal Carla’s top bag so she could move blind as he guided her with his covered arms.

  “Start taking deep breaths Carla, flood your lungs with oxygen. When I pull the top bag over you, bulk it out with your arms to trap as much air inside as you can and I will seal you in.”

  The big snag now was how to perfectly seal the top bag, to the bag at his waist. His hands had to remain inside the top bag.

  John’s chair had thin vertical slats at the back. He fed the end of the tape between them and stuck the end to the bottom edge of the top bag.

  “Let’s seal you in first, Carla.”

  With her safely sealed in, Max had to quickly seal himself within his own bags.

  Carefully slipping the bag over his head and adjusting its position so he could see out of the faceplate he proceeded to turn on the spot, pulling the tape off the reel between the slats. The tape was pulled tight against him like a wide, tight belt.

  Using his arms to expand the top bag he trapped a large air pocket within. Hopefully this would hold enough oxygen for him to breathe until he was safely outside the warehouse. Within seconds of sealing the bag he felt the wet condensation from inside and the air becoming stuffy.

  Finally, he managed to break free of the tape and went to the door. It was difficult to turn the doorknob through the slippery bag, also to pull the door open with the tape sealed around it, but he managed it eventually.

  “Come on Carla, and I will guide you out”

  As she walked forward across the warehouse, she stumbled against two bodies on the floor and for
a frightening moment, nearly fell. A tear in the bag now would be fatal. By probing with one foot, she found her way past them.

  “We have to get out of here she shouted at him, I’m running low on oxygen.”

  “Even outside you can’t come out of the plastic” she heard him say. “The white dust is all over you, we need some way of washing it off. Follow me, ” he said and helped her towards the main warehouse door.

  He grasped the hanging gantry controller, lowering the hook as it travelled to the steel lifting rings in the floor slab that covered the flooded chamber.

  “What are you doing, she cried out.”

  “We are going to get you out safely and away from here, by going through the flooded tunnel. Trust me.”

  Max didn’t need to explain, she had already caught up with his plan.

  As he hooked the steel eyes and carefully lifted the huge slab from one end, he bent down and grabbed a metre-long piece of stout timber. Max guided Carla to the edge of the chamber and told her to jump in.” It was a desperate act of blind faith to leap into a water filled hole, encapsulated in a flimsy polythene sheath, then wait in the water, suffocating, until he came for her, but she did.

  Max lowered the concrete floor slab onto the timber prop and released the steel hooks so he could move the crane gantry away and down the end of the warehouse.

  Max then opened up the valves on two of the spare forklift fuel bottles releasing gas in a freezing spray of liquid. A third bottle was carried 10 metres away to a nearby forklift. By arcing wires across the battery terminals with a crowbar, he set the gas stream alight on this bottle. The bottle could either explode on its own or set off the gas from the others when it reached the flame. Max could sense the invisible gas rolling towards him. What if the timber post failed before he could get to the tunnel? What if it snapped as he was climbing on to the ladder, half in half out of the hole? He would either be burned alive or sliced in half.