CHAPTER VIII „DEADLY COUNTDOWN"

=== Puerto Soro / Bus Station ===

The guns of the police pointed at me and my unwilling companion, which I still held tightly, my weapon pressed against his rib case. I had to find a solution very quickly. And it had to be an awful good one!

Rosa. My children.

"Hands up!" the police shouted again.

I pulled the trigger. The next second I pushed the limp body of the kidnapper aside, and simultaneously threw my gun to the ground, stretched my arms to the side. In my ears echoed the faint sound of one unlocked safety bolt like thunder. Only a little bit had separated me from being shot myself… I stared into the faces around me without really seeing anything.

The cry of the elderly police office pierced the air: "HOLD YOUR FIRE! Wait I said!"

The longest couple of seconds in my life… I pulled all my strength together. I had to focus. I could not even make a tiny mistake!

Rosa. My children.

"Handcuff him!" ordered the commander of the police. I saw a young officer move towards me. Before he could grab my arm, I tilted over, coughing, choking and with all evidence of an epileptic seizure or whatsoever.

"Away! STAY AWAY!"

The elderly officer wasn't a dumb-ass! But his young companion lacked experience. When his reason finally kicked in with a little retard, he was too close and too slow! Before he realized what was happening, I had my left arm around his neck, and my right hand on his gun already. The next moment, I pointed at his head.

"Drop your weapons!" I demanded, cautiously standing up again, the young officer as a shield in front of me. "Drop your weapons, or he dies!"

The elderly officer made a hasty gesture in the direction of his men to back off. Then he stepped forward. "You can't win anything," he said now in a – as he hoped - pacifying intonation. However, this was a vain effort. I was all calm and collected. I knew exactly what I did – and this was no freak-out-maneuver! "You can't run. It is over, Van Cleaf. There is no way out for you!"

"Away with the guns! On the ground! Now!"

"Let us talk! Okay? You can't get out!"

"There's nothing to talk about. I can't allow you to interfere with my plans! The life of my family is at stake!"

"Van Cleaf, there is no way—"

"I don't discuss! You do as I say or your smart colleague here bites the dust! I don't make jokes. And I don't want to waste more time!" With my hostage in firm grip, I had nearly reached the door now. Behind it, I could already discern the swirling lights of a police car. Perfect… Slowly, one after another the police threw their weapons and lowered down. The door slid back. Approximately 2 meters to the car! Enough for a final shot, and I was sure, there was a sniper somewhere!

"Tell your folks to stand down!" I called back into the bus station. "Any false move, and this boy here dies!"

The commander took his walkie talkie, bellowed some hasty orders. I stepped outside, taking care that my hostage was still shielding me. From somewhere, I heard a cracking, rustling sound. A bird or a stray dog? Or someone sneaking up on me? I decided to take the risk with a single, fast move. I turned towards the car with one wide step – and only narrowly escaped a bullet, which scraped over the car's roof. I let myself fall and pushed my hostage against the fender.

"Open the fucking door!"

I heard the police commander shout to stand by.

Finally, I was in the car! I started the engine, causing my hostage which I still held in the open door, gun at his back, to loose ground and roll over. Before I could close the door, the police opened fire. They smashed nearly all windows, but missed me.

I must have a guardian 'devil', I thought. Because I could see next to nothing now, I hit another car. For a moment I was afraid I had crashed mine and would get nowhere. However, it still moved forward! Crossing the outer bus platforms and speeding through a group of yelling persons, I went up through the green area. Now the siren of at least one other police car was behind me.

I reached out with my gun and broke the shattered wind shield completely to have a better sight.

Well, I had overthrown two trash bins, and was nearly on the regular road by now! I fumbled after my cell phone and reactivated the number of the heli-flight-service, while forcing my car over the curb and on the street. Of course I was on the wrong lane, but luckily at this nightly time, the worst traffic was over and I reached the other side without accident.

The time until I eventually got my hired pilot on the phone felt like an eternity. The police was closing in and I had no time for detailed orientation. Moreover, the car was already in bad shape!

"Hello? … I need you to be at—" A short glance out of the window at the next traffic sign –"…Malverde crossing immediately! … Copy that? … Okay, now move your ass!"

I sincerely hoped I would make it to the Malverde crossing at all…

Rosa. My Children. I have to. I just HAVE to.

=== Meanwhile / Abandoned Farmhouse ===

Rosa was desperate. That desperate, she would have done anything to save her children, especially Maartie. The little one needed medical help very badly. He wouldn't survive another couple of hours without something to drink, to eat and without his medicine. The image, how Pik was running to the hospital's emergency department with his little son in his arms for the first time some months ago, burned in Rosa's memory with growing pain. They had not known what was wrong with Maartie, then. Only the quick decision and experience of one of the doctors at the provincial hospital up in Mexico saved his life.

But now?

I can't just sit here and watch him suffer and die… I have to do something! I can't wait… Whatever happens to me then – I can't wait!

She put her free arm around little Samuel and glanced over to the young kidnapper named Luis again. The man now sat on the ground, lazily drawing patterns on the dirty ground. Harrington was outside and obviously tried to reach his contact man in Puerto Soro again. Boudreaux was out of sight, too. Rosa took a deep breath and whispered:

"Look, this is going to end in disaster, for all of us. You will get killed or you end up in jail for the rest of your life!"

"Shut up!" Luis demanded, but without sounding very convincing. His voice was as tired as his body was.

"And for what?" Rosa dared to speak further, feeling Maartie tremble in her arm. "Do you think, Harrington will share anything with you if he gets some bucks at all? He will shit on you! I said I give you this diamond ring, if you help me! And I give you much, much more! Just help me!"

"Be silent!"

"Please! My little son needs help! He will die if he does not get his medicine! Let him and my children out of this! Please!"

Six pleading eyes hung on the nervous kidnapper's face. Maria cried again.

Luis stared at them. The wind was howling outside. One of the old shutters clacked. "Please…" Rosa repeated, knowing she would probably not have the strength for another word.

Finally, the young man in front of them moved. "I let the kids out! Through the back door! You stay! And make it quick, understood?"

Rosa nodded hastily. With shaky hands, she prepared Maarties blanket and her own scarf to work as a sort of backpack, in which Maria could carry the baby. The girl was afraid. "Ma, what if I can't make it? What if something happens, I—"

"You can do it, sweetheart!" answered Rosa in low, but determined voice, while applying the makeshift backpack to her daughter. "Think of the storm near the Scottish coast this year! You were that afraid, but you did a great job! You can do it, Maria! – Sam, come a little closer, and listen carefully, both of you…"

"Make it quick, I said!" Luis hissed, nervously playing with his rifle and looking over his shoulder.

"Sam, Maria, listen! When you are outside, you won't look back, you won't come back, whatever you hear! You keep running! The utility poles show you the course of the road. Don't take any other direction! When you are on the street, you should already see the lighting from the gas station; go there and let them call an ambulance!"

"Enough!" Luis grabbed Sam's arm and pushed him forward. Maria followed with a last frightened glance to her mother. "Ma…"

"You'll make it!" Rosa watched as the kidnapper shoved her children in another room. The footsteps softened. I have to trust him…

She folded her hands so tightly that it hurt. Santa Maria, Madre de Dios…. Let them make it… don't let them die… help me … help me… help-

She startled, when Luis kicked against her arm. "The fucking ring!" he demanded raspy. The jewellery seemed stuck, and she could not get it off. Suddenly panicking, she pulled with all force - and let it slip when it eventually moved. Producing a melodious sound, the ring landed on the ground and rolled against the wall.

Too loud!

The two people stared at each other, frozen.

"Luis, what's going on there?" yelled Harrington, but unfortunately he did not wait for an answer. Dizzy and angry as he was from the mix of pain, medics and alcohol, he stormed into the house. "Where are these little rats?" Another two steps, and he grasped Luis. "You damned, stupid-!" He tried to kick his younger companion; however, Luis was faster, reached for his rifle. Before he could fire, though, Harrington shot. One, two, three times, venting all his frustration now. Luis stumbled against the wall and slid down backwards, dead.

Rosa cried, covered her face with her hands. When Harrington slapped her and spit on her, she was sure, not to survive the next minutes….

"Boudreaux? Where are you, you MORON? Have always to search for you!"

"I'm here. Heard shots. What—"

"This asshole let half of the hostages escape! Now YOU take care this bitch does not escape, too! – And give me the phone! Wanna know why the fuck Marco does not call!"

Chance Boudreaux had the distinct feeling to know the reason, but it would not be wise throwing more oil on Harrington's fire! He started musing about the possibilities to get out of this crap alive, and free. The odds seemed rather small at the moment. He had been an idiot to let Harrington talk him into this! Taking revenge on Van Cleaf was not that alluring anymore… Not if he had to go down into the same filth as HE! While Harrington left again, Boudreaux glanced at the crying woman huddling on the ground. Shit! What do I do here? I'm not out to torture women and children, for fuck's sake!

=== Puerto Soro / Near Malverde Crossing ===

Three police cars encircled the battered empty car which had been stolen half an hour ago at the bus station. Detective Agostin tore his hair. No sign of their target!

"This is simply unbelievable!"

"He has still to be in the area, Sir," said one of the other officers, obviously angry about their performance at the bus station, too. "And the roads are blocked. He can't vanish into thin air."

Agostin snorted. "I HOPE so!" There was nothing the Puerto-Soro-'Pitbull' hated more than prey slipping through after he already was at nose's length with it!

While his men begun with the check up of the area - some untended green-spaces, houses, gardens around the road crossing - a helicopter moved graciously in a wide bow over them.

=== Up in the Chopper ===

This had been more luck than I thought a man could handle, I said to myself. Down below, the search party was under way. I was slipped through in the very last second, ruining my cloths completely in fleeing through the thorny bushes of the green space near the road. My injured side hurt. In my leg with the artificial knee cap drilled a nasty pain, too. This had probably been way too much for this piece of surgical art!

Well, all this was nothing serious, and at the moment, I sat comfortably in the chopper and had not to move my legs! So – no waste of resources and brain cells in thinking more about this! I had to focus on the rescue of my family… Sadly, I had sacrificed my 'Glock 19' during the little scheme in the bus station! The police gun I had taken was not an adequate substitute. I still had my 'Desert Eagle' in the shoulder belt under the jacket. Nonetheless, I felt very poorly equipped for the venture I was about to undertake! How I wished to have my sniper rifle! But all my weaponry was in my Rover, which stood peacefully at the Puerto Soro bus station! To be honest, I felt nearly naked. Anyway, there was no other option right now!

"Hey, man, what is this all about?" My pilot turned to me, smiling. "You look like it was a pretty rough party, eh!"

"It will be much rougher the rest of the night…" I smiled, too.

"I hope this is nothing… uhm… you know, illegal, Sir?"

"You don't really expect a man paying you half a million Dollar for a flight to answer this question, do you?" He fell silent, and I asked instead: "How far are we from the destination?"

=== Near Puerto Soro / Abandoned Farmhouse ===

Harrington marched across the weed-filled old terrace of the abandoned house, boiling with rage. Because he could not reach his man sent to Puerto Soro bus station, he was now about to dial Van Cleaf's number again.

"What does this scumbag think?" he murmured in between. "That he can play with me? That I must not be taken serious? Oh, I SHOW you how serious I can be, Van Cleaf! I'll get you! I'll get you and your fucking money!" The cell phone's screen flashed to a light blue. Connection was established!

"… Van Cleaf, do you HEAR ME?"

'Loud and clear, Harrington. I suppose there was a slight problem with the money transfer? Or why do you call?'

Harrington would have loved to smash the phone on the ground. He HATED this man, he HATED this voice! And he HATED the sound of choppers bouncing in his head! "Van Cleaf! Either I get the money or your wife dies! Did you get this? Answer!"

'Yes.'

"You have two hours! And I don't the fuck care HOW you manage it! … Fucking chopper up there!... – Do you LISTEN? Two hours, or your whore is DEAD!"

'I don't think so…'

Unnerved from the noise of the helicopter growing even more intense, Harrington lowered the phone and looked up.

Me and the barrel of my gun was the last thing he saw… You have died far too quickly, bastard! I would've preferred torturing him to death slowly… but well, one could not have all the bonuses in one night!