by Mark Arundel
‘The reason doesn’t matter,’ I said in a low voice. ‘All that matters now is how we escape from here successfully.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Snowy whispered in agreement. He paused and then added, ‘How do we escape from here successfully?’ It was an excellent question.
I reignited the by now cooler Zippo and walked back to the door with Snowy following closely behind. What could I do about Rambo? I pressed my ear to the door and listened. All I heard was silence. Before opening the door, I decided to look inside two or three of the boxes just in case they contained something useful like a selection of automatic weapons or an invincibility cape.
I moved the roll of packing tape, which was the same as the one Snowy had had over his mouth and using the knife, slit the seal on the nearest box and by holding the lighter so I could see, looked inside. Snowy stood next to me and peered inside too. The box contained folded shirts inside polythene wrappers. Each shirt had a designer logo printed on the breast pocket. I left the shirts untouched and moved to the next stack of boxes. I opened the top box and looked inside. This one contained unpackaged t-shirts. Again, they all had the same designer logo printed clearly on the front.
I moved to the third stack of boxes on the far side of the room. Again, I slit the seal and looked inside. This time, the box contained dozens of miniature packets. They were made of an opaque material and each was sealed. I cut one open and poured out the contents. It was white powder. ‘Narcotics,’ Snowy said and shook his head with disapproval.
The evidence that these men traded in fake designer clothing and illegal recreational drugs did not come as a surprise. Unfortunately, neither of these goods provided us with any help in solving our problem of how to escape the favela undetected unless we wanted to do it well dressed and high.
I left the boxes and did a very quick search of the room to see whether it had another way out in addition to the door through which I had entered. As far as I could tell, it did not. It was time to tackle Rambo.
I returned to the door with Snowy in close attendance and extinguished the lighter. Using as much care as was possible I eased the handle and opened the door just enough to allow a peek. Rambo was lying down with his chin on the floor and his eyes closed. Without anything happening of interest, he had decided to take a rest. Unfortunately, he was still blocking our path. I allowed Snowy a peek, so he could see the problem. I eased shut the door and in the darkness whispered to him: ‘As well as the dog there are at least two men below us and a ten-year-old girl possibly in the next room. The men are almost certainly armed. I came in a taxi, which is waiting for us down the hillside about one hundred metres south-east.’
‘How do we pass the dog without it barking?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How did you pass the dog before?’
‘The ten-year-old girl was petting it and I slipped past.’
‘The dog will bite us and bark, and then the men will come up and kill us.’ Snowy’s voice although remaining a whisper had risen in line with his fear. His observation was probably accurate. I had to think of a way to nullify Rambo. Whatever method I decided to employ carried a high risk of alerting the men to our presence and after that, we faced a greatly lessened chance of escaping safely. ‘What are we going to do?’ The whispered voice of Snowy remained high with fear.
I returned to the box containing the fake designer t-shirts and using the packing tape made a protective forearm wrap for Snowy.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘It’s a homemade protective armband,’ I said.
‘Why do I need it?’
‘We must incapacitate the dog,’ I said. ‘Hold this.’ He took the Zippo from me and held it up.
‘It’s hot,’ he said.
‘Keep it still,’ I said.
‘Yes, but how?’ Snowy asked. ‘How do we incapacitate the dog?’
‘By putting him out of action,’ I said while finishing my own forearm protective band.
‘Yes, but how?’ Snowy repeated. ‘Not with my arm,’ he added with his voice showing a tremor of concern.
‘I’m going to use the door,’ I said.
‘Use the door,’ Snowy repeated doubtfully. ‘How will you use the door?’
‘The door opens inwards and the room is black. We open the door and stand behind it. The dog looks in but doesn’t see anyone. Curious, it moves forward and then I slam the door on its head. Curiosity killed the dog or at least knocked it out. The armbands are for insurance purposes only. But if he does bite then make sure he bites this arm.’ I tapped the designer t-shirts wrapped around Snowy’s forearm with my hand for emphasis. Snowy looked worried.
‘Is the door strong enough?’ he asked dubiously.
‘It’s a wooden door,’ I said.
‘What happens if the door does not work?’ Snowy asked. He sounded sceptical about my plan.
‘Then we run,’ I said. ‘We get the other side of the dog any way we can and then we run for the taxi. Keep close to me. I know the way and I’ll try to protect us from anyone who tries to stop us. Once we reach the taxi and get inside we’ll get away safely.’ I was trying to convince myself as much as I was Snowy.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Let us do as you say. It could work.’ The level of faith showed by Snowy in my plan was probably all that it deserved. Perhaps I should have rethought it and instead used the Taurus pistol to kill Rambo and then shoot our way out of the building from where we could run for the taxi. The problem with that plan was it removed any hope of escaping unseen and thereby ensuring our complete safety. Once I started shooting, it was impossible to know how many men with guns would appear and try to kill us. At that stage, attempting stealth was still our best option. Of course, at that stage, Rambo was still snoozing like a family pet.
Snowy and I took our positions by the door and prepared ourselves for what we had to do. Snowy pulled at my arm and in a concerned whisper said, ‘Are you sure you can make the dog unconscious?’
‘I’m going to hit it as hard as I can.’
‘Don’t open the door too far. You will hit it harder if the door is nearer,’ Snowy said in a murmur, giving me what he considered good advice.
‘Are you ready?’ I asked.
Snowy breathed in deeply and then released my arm. ‘Yes, I am ready,’ he said softly with as much confidence as he could find.
I pulled the pistol from my waistband in case I needed it and then with my other hand turned the handle and opened the door. Just as before, I carefully made a crack and peeked through. Rambo was in the exact same position and this time, he looked asleep. The rest of the building too was silent.
I made the opening bigger while all the time watching Rambo. He stirred with a jolt, when the gap was about a third, and lifted his big head. He part turned his thick neck and cocked an ear. I opened the door a little further. Rambo then fully turned his head, saw the open door and stood up. His collar rotated slightly and the rope fell loosely by his side. Quickly I replaced the pistol into my waistband and then placed both hands on the door ready to slam it hard against Rambo’s head.
For a second, the big bruiser just stood and stared into the black opening. Then he did exactly what I had hoped he would do. He moved slowly forward, across the threshold and then firstly, raised his nose to sniff the air before secondly, lowering it to sniff the floor. As he moved his nose down, he presented me with the perfect target. Using all the force my purchase allowed, I smashed the wooden door against Rambo’s head. The strike felt solid but unfortunately, Rambo was quicker and smarter than he looked. His good reflex action in pulling back and away from the swinging door in a natural attempt to avoid injury had saved him from a knockout blow.
I rushed past the door with the thought of finishing him off with my heel, but before I could land a single stamp, he was back on his paws. Shaken and probably hurting, he maintained enough awareness to react to the danger which forced me to retreat. Leaping backwards behind the open door I
just managed to avoid the snapping jaws of an angry Rottweiler in a full attack or as full as his sore head would allow. The rope limit protected me and now Rambo was testing the resolve of his restraint with considerable effort. His body position was such that by rapidly closing the door, which I automatically did, I trapped his neck. He bucked against the squashing snare and I felt his considerable bulk and strength as he tried to pull free. With all my weight on the door, I pulled the pistol from my waistband and using the heel of the butt struck the dog’s head twice. With glazed eyes, he slumped down and his heavy body rested on the floor. I eased back on the door and then opened it fully. Snowy peeked around me before stepping forward and standing at my side. We both stared at the dazed Rambo. My concern was that the noise might bring the men to investigate, but the staircase remained soundless of footsteps and nobody appeared. I felt relief at having overcome Rambo without alerting anyone. I am sure Snowy felt the same. Remarkably the plan was working. It was then that I heard the loud, piercing scream.
Half the favela must have heard that scream. The plan I had had of not alerting anyone in or around the building was now over. It was a scream of true velocity and carried such depth that nobody hearing it could fail to experience chilled bones. Only one person could have made it. It was the scream made by a ten-year-old girl when she sees her pet dog seemingly dead on the floor after seeing him brutally bashed on the head.
I stepped forward, turned my head and there she was. She screamed again and then again, only pausing to take a breath.
Time was against me. Before I could do anything that might help us, I heard the approaching footfalls and the sound of at least two men. They were rushing up the steps. Hoping an immediate and surprise attack aided by elevation and gravity would give me an advantage I ran and leapt from the top step. Both men were close together, one following the other. The length of drop was just enough for me to turn, lift a knee and jut out an elbow. Striking the front man above the stomach and across his neck, my momentum knocked him backwards and we both fell and landed on the man following. My own drop was without injury, but the hard-edged steps were not so kind to someone without a cushioning friend for protective company. I jumped up. ‘Snowy, come on,’ I shouted.
Leaving Rambo and the girl behind, Snowy hurried down the steps and then stopped for a second before rushing past me and getting clear of the two men. The second man had started to get up. Stepping over the first, I swung a forearm smash with the arm that was free of the makeshift, protective wrap of t-shirts and connected cleanly with the man’s jawbone. His face swung around and he stopped getting up.
I turned back to see the first man who I think was the man I had seen smoking outside. He too was unsteady. Blindly he raised his head from the floor. I swung a kick across his face and his head fell back and then stayed down.
I spun towards Snowy with exiting the building my only thought. We were on the floor that had the back door, which was the one I had used to enter. The front door was down another flight of narrow steps. Our quickest route to Bruno and his waiting taxi was through the front door.
Between the steps, an open door to the left and an unseen light from below lifted the gloom inside the passageway. I only saw him when it was almost too late. He appeared on the steps as a silhouette before the weak glow crossed his face and lit the shadows of an ugly grimace. I had seen him enter earlier with the smoking man and wondered whether he had stayed. Now I knew that he had and I knew where he was. He was right in front of me. It was Dodge.
The weak light showed dull against the metal blade as it jabbed past my turning shoulders and chest. If Dodge had been any faster or I any slower my skewered heart would have been ready for the barbecue.
I had given him the first one free. I was not going to give him a second. Realising he had missed me he raised a fist and attempted a swinging punch. Without resetting his stance, it was his only attacking option. I was not just one or two moves ahead of him but a whole game. I stepped lightly inside, blocked the looping arm and hit him twice in rapid succession with sledgehammers to the stomach. I could almost feel his intestines and tell what he had eaten for dinner. His muscles slackened and his body dropped lower. I gripped his knife arm, turned him towards my side and then buried my elbow into his neck. He made a pained choking sound. I twisted his wrist and he dropped the knife. In the same movement, using his momentum and my angled leg I took him down with a heavy fall. His back thumped the floor and experience told me he was not getting up quickly. His fight was over.
I left Dodge and went to Snowy. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said. ‘Down the steps, out of the door and then go left. Stay close to me.’ Snowy was frightened. The knife fighting, the time he had spent tied up and gagged in the storeroom and the intense danger of the whole situation was affecting him. I needed him resolute. ‘Snowy,’ I said and shook him lightly. ‘We can do this. You and I can get safely out of here.’ Whether it was the shake or the words of encouragement or both is hard to tell but Snowy nodded and tried to smile. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
We only made it halfway down the narrow stairwell before a man rushed in through the front door carrying a handgun. In the murky light, his face was indistinguishable. He stopped abruptly. The only chance I had was to leap at him in the same way I had done before. The man turned his head, saw me and then rushed to bring up his gun. I just reached him in time. My body crashed into his, the gun went off and we both fell heavily to the floor. Inside the building and without a silencer the gunshot was thunderous. Anyone nearby would definitely have heard it and if they were connected in any way to the building would almost certainly rush to investigate. We had to get out and then get away before the building became our death trap. The man scrambled to his feet still holding the gun. Somehow, he was able to stand up before me. We were still close together, which allowed me to reach out, grip his ankle and lift his foot off the floor. It was enough to unbalance the slightly built man who hopped on his one standing leg with all the skill of a performing clown. With flailing arms, his targeting of me became part of the act and I was fully up before he even attempted a shot.
Maintaining my hold on his ankle and raising his leg even higher his hopping speed increased and his arms flapped like a fledgling bird in the nest.
After pulling him closer and stepping to the side I used my free hand to grasp his wrist and push until the gun pointed upwards. Only then did I use my position advantage to force him backwards, so he knocked painfully against the wall.
Releasing his ankle but keeping my hold on his wrist, I employed the sledgehammer once more and punched the man twice in the stomach. It was clear his dislike for mallet striking to the abdomen was at least equal to if not more than it was for Dodge.
The punches had winded him and he wheezed desperately as he struggled to breathe. His efforts were unsuccessful. While still centring everything on his desperate need to take a breath I used my shoulder to thump his distraught chest and slam him once more into the wall. This time, he went down. As he dropped, I twisted his wrist, the gun fell to the floor and using my raised knee I made a solid connection and knocked him out.
Turning rapidly to find Snowy who was standing by the opposite wall just inside the open door, I noticed an indistinct movement outside in the shadows. I rushed over to Snowy and again I saw it through the opening. The movement left the shadows and kept low while heading diagonally towards the building. What I saw, although dark and fast moving, was easily identifiable. It was a man and in one hand, he carried an assault rifle. From outside came a shout. It sounded like a Portuguese name, possibly Nuno, and the man that had shouted the name had a strong accent, which bore a close resemblance to the voice of Marsh, but I could have been mistaken.
I grabbed Snowy’s upper arm with one hand and using the other I pushed shut the front door. The latch caught and it closed securely.
Pulling Snowy with me to get him going, I was already moving. ‘We have to go back up and out the other way,’ I explained.
‘There’s at least one man outside the front door and he’s carrying an assault rifle.’ Snowy sped up considerably, so I released his arm and he almost overtook me.
With my head nearing the top step, I slowed to check on the status of Dodge and the other men before I showed myself. The only light came from the floor above. It shone down the staircase like a torch beam and then weakened in the veil of dark expanse. Two men were standing. One of them was Dodge and I could see his head bent over like a runner who had just finished a marathon. The other standing man wavered and then, unable to remain upright, lowered himself to the floor and sat with his head between his knees. The third man lay on the floor. He was still unconscious.
I tugged Snowy forward and then burst over the top step and into the room. Two strides and I had reached Dodge. I kept moving but slowed enough to shove him hard with both hands. His body flew backwards and then crashed to the floor.
As I passed the bottom of the staircase, I glanced upwards. In the light, sitting on the top step was the ten-year-old girl and she had Rambo’s head cradled in her lap. She was stroking him gently. As if he could sense me pass, the Rottweiler opened his eyes and lifted his head. I kept going. Snowy was close behind and I went straight out through the back door. I pushed it shut and pulled Snowy to my side against the wall. I listened and searched the outside area. The sky was now midnight blue and the air smelled of cooking. It reminded me of a campsite after dark. The small enclosure in which we stood was empty and below my feet, the ground was hard and stony.
With controlled speed, I took two firecrackers from my leg pocket and using the Zippo lit the first and then threw it as far as I could over the adjacent low roof before doing the same with the second.
‘This way,’ I said to Snowy, ‘we have to go down a narrow gully between the buildings.’
The fastest way was to ride it like a slide. I could just make out where I had cleared a path earlier. Behind us, the firecrackers were banging loudly in the humid, still air. I hoped they would cause confusion and distraction. We needed every advantage if we were to make it safely to the taxi.