by K C West
The stone wall was right in front of me. I leaped to the top, heard a loud crack, and felt a sharp pain. I landed on the other side, took a few more staggering steps and noticed a pond below me. The ground was spongy. My legs wouldn’t work properly. Was I faltering, or was it the sucking motion of the boggy terrain? The sky and ground began to spin. My escape plan had failed.
I tumbled face-first into a genuine Welsh bog.
Chapter 21
I called Frederick and told him about our interpretation of the tape and of our plan to go to Llanwrst. He put me on hold.
“I’m having the jet readied now,” he said, when he came back on the line. “I’ll fly into Caernarfon and hire a helicopter from there.” I pictured him in his London headquarters, arranging everything with masterful efficiency.
“How long will that take? We’re so close to the deadline.”
“I know. I’m as concerned as you are, but arrangements are going on as we speak. I’ll be in Llanwrst when you arrive, or soon after.”
“What about Geoff and Trevor? Should I contact them?”
“I’ll let them know what’s going on,” he said. “They reported to me that they’ve been cooperating with the authorities, but this is past the bodyguard stage. Let the police see to it.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. “I need you, Frederick. I don’t know how I’ll handle it if things go wrong.”
“I know, and just in case, the ransom is ready for transfer to a Swiss Bank account at a moment’s notice.”
I watched the constables collect their equipment while they talked in calm, confident tones. Terry glanced in my direction, but I turned away from her and partially covered the telephone receiver. My hands shook. “What if we’re wrong? Everything is a matter of interpretation, and that’s far from an exact science.”
“Then we will have done all we can. But keep the faith, my dear. There’s still time, I think, to pay the ransom.”
I knew he was struggling, too; his faith was cracking and he wasn’t that sure about the ransom. I could hear doubt in his voice. He was trying to put up a brave front for me.
“I feel so helpless,” I said. “I’ve never been this afraid of anything before.” I heard someone on the other end speak to him.
“I have to go now,” he said. “I’ll call the police and make sure they’re well-prepared for any eventuality.”
“I’m sure they are, Frederick. They seem very efficient.”
I was a complete mess, but trying to be positive for him. It didn’t matter though. He hadn’t heard, having hung up without as much as a goodbye. That frightened me more than anything. Damn it, if Frederick lost hope, who would keep me from losing mine?
I couldn’t think that way. I mustn’t give up. Not now. I had to have faith in my powers of deduction and sense that I was on the right track. I was feeling PJ’s influence. Call it ESP, but I knew that she was with me on this.
Moments later, I received a call from another police squad. This was a team from Aberystwyth, headed by Detective Chief Inspector Doreen Edwards. Her assistant, our old friend Sergeant Blodwyn Jones, would stop to pick Terry and me up on the way.
*
Two police cars pulled up. A boyish-looking constable was at the wheel of the leading car, with DCI Edwards in the passenger seat and Sergeant Jones in the back. In profile, Edwards resembled a spinster schoolteacher I once had. That thought didn’t reassure me. Terry climbed into the second vehicle, which Edwards said held a constable and two Emergency Medical Technicians. I wasn’t comforted by Terry’s presence, but at least she wasn’t riding in the same car with us.
I slid into the backseat next to Sergeant Jones. Pup lay at my feet, leaving me little wriggle room.
“Is this all?” I asked the stern-faced Chief Inspector.
“All from our jurisdiction,” she said, giving me a look that would peel paint.
“We’ll be met by a unit from the North Wales Police,” Sergeant Jones said. “We’re working together on this one.”
It made me feel better to know that we would have reinforcements.
My mind filled with unsettling thoughts about PJ’s situation. Sergeant Jones covered my hand with hers. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”
“I want to believe that we’re on the right track, but this is all guesswork. What if we’re wrong?”
“You can’t think that way. Your friend gave some good clues on the tape. She knew you could decipher them because you know her better than anyone else does.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and swiped at my eyes. “I just can’t go on much longer knowing that PJ is in the hands of those creatures.”
“For what it’s worth,” the sergeant said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “I understand the depth of your concern. I really do.”
“Thank you,” I said automatically, but when I looked into the sergeant’s eyes, it was clear that she was sharing more than what her words alone conveyed.
I managed a smile. “It’s good to know that someone here understands the bigger picture. I don’t feel so alone with someone standing by, someone to lean on. Just in case.”
She gripped my hand. “Stop torturing yourself like this. Think positively.”
Sergeant Jones was the only person besides Frederick who understood my anguish and knew the depths of my fear for PJ’s safety.
I stared out of the window into the dark night. It rained intermittently, and the road was a black ribbon in front of us. The undulations in the tarmac were clearly visible in our headlights.
Fieldstone walls on either side of the road threatened to close in on us. Despite the conditions, the police vehicles made good time.
I mentally urged PJ to hold on; the troops were coming. A whole damn convoy was converging from the south and from the north, just to get her out. In other circumstances, she’d find the image amusing. I was too worried to see anything humorous about it.
The red and blue flashing lights cast an unnatural glow on our immediate surroundings. I took a deep breath. Why did I feel like we were entering the gates of hell?
*
As we closed in on our destination, Edwards ordered the police to cut their lights and separate, so the vehicles wouldn’t look so conspicuous. When we arrived at the cottage, I could see that Peter Gibbs really did value his privacy. The shrubbery, and a tall, thick hedgerow between the house and the road, provided ample concealment for a surprise invasion.
An unmarked van was waiting when we arrived. Two plainclothes officers and six armed, uniformed officers got out of it to meet with us.
One of the plainclothes officers, whom Sergeant Jones identified as another chief inspector, huddled with DCI Edwards. Their voices were quiet, but much arm and hand action animated their conversation as they planned their strategy.
Everything moved in slow motion - except the clock, which continued to tick in real time. I could hear it inside my skull. I closed my eyes and prayed that we were in the right place and not too late.
Sergeant Jones put her arm around my shoulder and whispered close to my ear. “I wish I could assure you that everything will be okay. You know I can’t do that. I can tell you, however, that I have a good feeling about it.”
“Thank you for your honesty and your encouragement.”
She took out her sidearm and checked the load. “I always hope I won’t have to use this, but one never knows.”
“That’s right. Your police don’t normally carry guns.”
“I’m afraid terrorists and drug trafficking have made our lives a lot more dangerous these days. We use firearms when the occasion calls for them.”
I thought about PJ being caught in crossfire between the kidnappers and the police, and I shuddered. “Have you ever had to use it to kill?”
The sergeant looked at me for a moment before nodding.
The reality shocked me. “It’s almost dark. What if you have to shoot? She’s so short, you might not see her.”
“Try not to worr
y. We only use that kind of force as a last resort.”
DCI Edwards also had a sidearm, as did the driver. Every member of the contingent from the North Wales jurisdiction was armed, two with automatic weapons.
How many people were in the house? The bicycling witnesses saw only two men. There were probably more.
“We’ll resort to heavier weapons only if something goes awfully wrong,” Sergeant Jones said, sliding out of the car.
My head already ached with tension; I didn’t want to think anymore about anything going wrong.
I got out with Pup and waited in silence while the detectives and constables looked the situation over and discussed strategy.
Again, everything moved with agonizing slowness except my watch. I wanted to spur them into action, urge them to hurry. Didn’t they know that time was running out?
I held Pup on a short leash. “No,” I said firmly, but quietly, when he started whining. I suspected that with his highly developed wolf intuition, he sensed that PJ was close by, and I was hard-pressed to hold him. I knelt beside him, and he looked at me with his big yellow, all-knowing eyes. You can feel her presence, can’t you?
I looked around for Frederick, but didn’t see him anywhere.
*
There was a flurry of activity, and someone announced over a bullhorn that the house was surrounded.
Nanoseconds later, the sound of a single shot pierced the night. “Oh, shit!” I screamed.
Then a searchlight revealed a man standing in front of the house, holding a handgun. He fired several shots, then only clicks could be heard. One officer was hit, but the other bullets went wild. The rescue team surrounded the shooter. They disarmed and cuffed him and sat him near a tree under guard.
There didn’t appear to be any movement in the house. Three officers, including Sergeant Jones, drew their weapons and stormed in. Moments later, they came out dragging two handcuffed men, neither of whom showed any resistance. They were deposited next to the first shooter, where they slumped to the ground.
The sergeant reported to DCI Edwards then turned to me. “She’s not inside. We’re going to question these three while the others do a more thorough search of the house and grounds.”
My heart sunk into my shoes. If she wasn’t here, then where was she? Unless she was already… I didn’t want to think about that possibility.
Questioning the men revealed nothing. The first one arrested snarled something about the bitch not living to tell about it.
Hot tears bubbled from my eyes.
I heard a helicopter flying in circles overhead. I knew it had to be Frederick, and was relieved to know that he was here. Whatever happened now, we would go through it together. The pilot aimed a bright shadowless spotlight into the yard, and then around the area, looking - I presumed - for a place to land. An open field across the road provided space away from the trees.
Pup was pulling at his leash and whimpering. “No,” I said, giving it a tug. “You’ve got to sit still.” With an unexpected lurch, that knocked me off my feet and freed him, he took off. I thought he was going to tear the prisoners apart, but he bypassed them without missing a stride and jumped the stone wall.
“He’s onto something!” I yelled, following as fast as I could, vaguely aware of Terry and Sergeant Jones joining the chase. When I came to the wall, I bounded over it in a manner I wouldn’t have thought possible, had I been in a rational frame of mind.
The moon, reaching peak fullness, was hidden behind the clouds. I couldn’t see much in the dark without a flashlight. Somewhere ahead of me, Pup whimpered.
“I’m coming!” I cried. My side ached, and I was breathing in great gulps of air.
The ground was spongy; with each step, I sank up to my ankles. I pitched forward twice, my arms sinking almost to the elbows in mud. The sergeant caught up to me and shone her powerful flashlight into the darkness. “Over there,” she said, taking off at a stumbling run. Terry and I followed as quickly as we could over the soft, uneven ground. We caught up with Sergeant Jones, who was in mud up to her knees, helping Pup drag what appeared to be a lifeless body from the murky water. We hurried to lend a hand.
It was PJ. My heart stopped. All but blinded by tears, I fell on my knees beside her. With shaking hands, I wiped the muck from her face, my mind blank, while the sergeant checked for a pulse.
“She’s alive,” she said, “but her pulse is thready and she isn’t breathing.”
For a moment I couldn’t comprehend what she was saying, and then it came to me. PJ was alive! My mind started working again. “I know rescue breathing techniques.”
“Good, then you can help.”
With Terry’s assistance, we started to roll my partner onto her back.
“Wait!” Sergeant Jones’s command stopped us. “Bloody hell. She’s been shot in the shoulder.” She indicated a wound that was barely visible through all the mud.
I quickly ripped a strip off my shirt and handed it to the sergeant who pressed it against the wound. “Dr. Simms, hold this, will you. Keep the pressure on while we get her onto her back. We need to get her breathing.”
Terry looked like she would just as soon be somewhere else.
Sergeant Jones fumed. “Where are those medical blokes?”
We eased PJ onto her back while Terry held the makeshift pressure pad in place.
My actions were robotic. I felt empty-headed, unable to understand the most basic instructions.
“Come on, Kim, don’t lapse out on me now.” The sergeant’s command galvanized me into action. I whipped off my cardigan and covered PJ with it. To help guard against shock, I thought, though I wasn’t sure it would help a whole lot.
I wiped PJ’s lips and cleaned the inside of her mouth with my fingers.
Sergeant Jones nodded for me to begin.
I moved PJ’s head back, tilted her chin upwards, pinched her nose shut, and breathed two quick breaths into her mouth. Her lips had never felt so cold.
Come on, sweetheart. We had to get oxygen into her lungs.
The sergeant put her ear against PJ’s chest and felt her neck for a pulse while I breathed into her mouth, one breath every five seconds, just enough to raise her chest, but not to force air into her stomach. PJ made a choking noise. We turned her onto her side, and she spewed out a stream of mucky water.
Just then, the two medical technicians, weighted down with equipment, slogged through the ankle deep mud to join us.
I heard the sergeant mutter under her breath, “And about bloody time, too.”
They paid no attention, just pushed us out of the way and started working on PJ.
Now that I was no longer tending to PJ, the horror of what had happened hit me. My knees buckled, but the sergeant’s firm grip kept me from sliding to the ground.
I felt Frederick’s strong arms engulf me. “She’s in good hands now,” he said, hugging me despite the slime that coated much of my body. “She’ll make it. She’s a fighter.”
“I know, I know,” I muttered to myself and anyone else listening. “She’s as stubborn as they come.” I giggled with relief. “I’m sorry to be getting all this mud on you.”
“Think nothing of it.”
In my peripheral vision, I thought I saw an Amazon, a fully armed warrior, saluting me with her sword. “Mania, is that you?”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just thanking the Goddess for her intervention.”
“While you’re at it, thank her for me, too,” Frederick said.
I rested my head against his chest. “I will,” I whispered. “I will.”
The medical helicopter arrived in less than five minutes, but every second seemed like an hour. It landed next to Frederick’s craft, and two more flight medics joined ours. They discussed PJ’s situation, then all four prepared her for flight.
Frederick moved away to speak with the pilot. I stayed close to where they were attending to PJ and hugged the mud-covered Pup. If it hadn’t been for him
- well, I didn’t want to think about how different the ending could have been. I kissed his muddied muzzle. “Another couple of minutes, Pup.” He whined as though he understood. Perhaps he did, on some level.
A familiar voice broke into my thoughts. Terry had spotted Frederick walking back toward me and sidled over to intercept him. I focused my attention on what was happening to PJ, but I couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.
“It looks like we arrived in the nick of time,” he said. “Thank God for that. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost her now.”
“I’m relieved,” Terry said, “that things turned out so well.” I turned slightly, just in time to catch her extending her hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr. Curtis. Don’t hesitate to call on me again.”
“I owe you a debt of gratitude. You and Kim cracked this case, not the police. They were just backup.” He looked toward his daughter, now strapped onto a stretcher and ready for transport. “She and Kim are my family. They’re all I have.”
“You don’t seem bothered by their relationship.”
I turned to find her watching me, a smirk on her face. What a bitch. She was always looking for an opening, an opportunity to make trouble. She didn’t realize that Frederick knew about PJ and me being partners, and she wanted to be the one to break the news. The joke was on her.
Frederick didn’t notice us glaring at each other. “Why would it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Some people - please don’t misunderstand.” Terry was speaking in that sweet, cloying voice she used when she was up to something. “I’m not being derogatory. I’m just curious, wondering about a parent’s take on the situation.”
It was hard for me not to jump up and slap her silly.
“Kim has been good for Priscilla,” he said. “She’s part of the family.” He looked again at his daughter, and his expression grew wistful. “She used to be a handful, especially when she was younger, but she’s settled down since she’s been with Kim. She’s in good hands. I worry a lot less about her these days. Besides, this way I get two archaeologists for the price of one.” His little joke was lost on Terry.