Chapter 26 – The Wedding Part 3

Nick stood outside number one, hammering on the door, when Rob came crashing into him at the speed of light. The breathless man grabbed him by the shoulders, eyes wide with panic. "Nick, have you seen Tracy? Do you know where she is?!"

Nick didn't know what to make of his frantic demeanour. "Tracy? No, I haven't, sorry. I've got a missing bride and groom to look for."

Rob stared at him, blinking slowly. "You mean… they're not at the wedding?"

Nick shook his head. "They never showed up. I've been sent back here to try and hunt them down." He nodded up at the house. "I thought I'd check here but no one appears to be home. I'm going to check the bistro next, then I'll try their flat."

"Tracy's missing!" The words blurted out of Rob's mouth as his grip tightened on Nick's shoulders. "I nipped out for five minutes and when I got back, the place was trashed and she was gone!"

"Gone?" Nick asked, puzzled. "Where did she go?"

"I don't know! But now you're telling me Peter and my sister are missing too…" Rob's eyes darted about the quiet street as he raked a hand through his cropped hair. "This can't all be a coincidence, something must've happened…"

"Like what?"

Rob had a pretty good idea…

Stu's words of warning rang in the back of his head; 'You've got an x marked on your door, Donovan. And one of these days Ritchie's going to come knocking. He'll put a bullet in your brain… He'll put one in your girlfriend's too."

This was Ritchie's doing. It had to be.

Before Rob could voice his fears, Nick spotted Sarah emerge from the bistro. She staggered across the cobbles in a daze as a screeching infant wriggled about in her arms.

They rushed over to her.

"Sarah, what's happened?" Nick asked.

She walked straight past them in the direction of the Platt's house. "We need to call the police."

They chased after her. "The police? Why?"

When she didn't answer, Rob caught her arm, forcing her to a standstill. "Tell us what's going on. Why do we need the police?"

She looked at him like a deer in headlights. "Because Gary's got them inside the bistro. He's got a gun."

Nick looked over at his former establishment. "Gary's in there? With a gun?!"

Sarah nodded.

Rob grew even more frantic. "Who else is inside?"

"Carla, Peter and Adam."

Both men exchanged a look, their worst fears had been confirmed.

"And Tracy? What about her? Was she there too?"

Sarah shook her head. "I didn't see her, but there was someone coming in through the back as I left." She looked at the baby in her arms whose face was red from crying. "Gary only let me go because Bertie was crying."

Nick could see his sister was in a great deal of shock and gently took her by the elbow. "Come on, let's get you inside."

Once they were inside the Platt's empty house, Sarah settled Bertie upstairs while Nick made an urgent call to the police. He hung up as Sarah returned downstairs. "They're on their way," he said. "They're going to get here as fast as they can."

Sarah sunk onto the sofa and stared vacantly at the wall ahead. Nick knelt before her and took her by the hand. "I know you've been through an ordeal but we need to know what's going on. What's Gary doing back here? What does he want?"

Sarah slowly brought her eyes to look at him. "Revenge," she said. "He wants revenge."

The casual way in which she said it gave Nick chills.

Then she went back to staring into space.

Nick squeezed her hand in an effort to keep her focused. "You said you heard someone coming in through the kitchen as you left. Does that mean Gary's got someone helping him? An accomplice, maybe?"

Rob, who was standing over by the window, peering through the lace curtain at the restaurant at the bottom of the street, came and joined them on the sofas.

On the coffee table, he spotted a copy of the morning paper. Gary's mugshot was plastered on the front page, as was another man's. Rob pointed to it. "This is the guy who's helping him."

Nick grabbed the paper and stared at the mugshot of a straight-faced man in a jumpsuit, holding up a placard. He read out the caption below. "Richard Silverman, aged 52, serving a twenty-five-year sentence for drugs trafficking…"

"We knew him as Ritchie," said Rob. "We were in the clink together. We were friends, well, sort of. I betrayed him… and now he wants payback."

Nick held up the paper and pointed at the picture. "You're telling me this man's after you?"

"He has been for years," said Rob. "And now he's finally found me."

Nick listened as Rob told him the story of how he worked with the warden to bust Ritchie's drugs operation, scuppering Ritchie's chance of parole, and how Ritchie had sworn to kill him ever since.

Nick nodded slowly as he took it all in. "So you think Ritchie and Gary are working together?"

"They must be," said Rob. "They must have some kind of agreement with each other, though I couldn't tell you what it is. All I know is Ritchie's going to hurt Carla and Tracy to get back at me." He dropped his head in his hands. "This is all my fault…"

Nick's phone started ringing for the fifth time. "It's Leanne," he said. "I can't keep ignoring her." He disappeared into the kitchen to take the call. When he returned, he found Rob getting up to leave. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Where do you think? The bistro! I can't just sit here and do nothing while Tracy and my sister are in danger. I'm sorry, I can't."

"So what are you going to do?" Nick asked as he reached the door. "You can't go marching in there bold as brass, Gary's got a gun! And who knows if Ritchie's armed! If he's really as dangerous as you say, then we need to wait for the professionals and let them handle this. They'll be here any minute."

"Tracy and Carla might not have a minute."

Nick looked at Sarah to back him up but the young woman seemed to have drifted deep into her own thoughts.

Nick heard the violent slamming of the door and looked back to where Rob had been standing to discover he was gone.

Nick was torn as to whether or not to go after him. He cared about the people trapped inside the bistro. He and Peter weren't exactly the best of friends, but Peter was Simon's father, and if anything happened to him, Simon would be devastated, not to mention Leanne. Sarah would be equally as distraught if anything befell Adam. And then there was Carla… Nick had loved her dearly once.

Could he really sit back and do nothing?

Deciding against his better judgment, he hurried out of the house. "Rob, wait!"

Rob upped his pace. "Don't try and stop me, Nick."

"I'm not here to stop you," Nick said, his words breaking Rob's stride who stopped to look at him. "I'm here to help you."

The pair jumped the fence and crouched in the small courtyard of the bistro, the place the chef came for a cigarette break.

"Right, so this is the plan," Nick whispered. "We'll go in through this door here, which will lead us into the kitchen. We'll arm ourselves with whatever we can find; knives, saucepans, you name it. The door into the bar has a window. We can use that to see what's going on. Then we'll choose our moment to strike. Sound like a plan?"

"Not really," said Rob. "But it's the best one we've got."

The two men slipped into the kitchen. It was empty and they could hear voices coming from the bar. Rob recognised Ritchie's voice straight away.

Nick caught a whiff of something strange and turned his nose up in disgust. "Do you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

Nick sniffed the air curiously. "Smells like… gas."

"I can't smell anything," said Rob.

They armed themselves with the sharpest knives they could find, being careful to make as little noise as possible, then they headed over to the door with the circular window and peered through it.

There they saw Carla, Peter and Adam sitting at the bar. Peter was hunched over, barely able to keep his head up. Towards the back of the room, unmistakable in her bright pink onesie, was Tracy. Rob's heart beat a little faster upon seeing her.

And then there was Ritchie. His voice was slick and confident as he addressed the others. "So now introductions are out of the way, it's time to get down to business. Gazza, mate, come over here."

Nick and Rob ducked their heads as Gary walked past the window. Gary stepped out from behind the bar and joined Ritchie, who stood up and clapped him on the back. "Seeing as you've done such an excellent job getting everyone here, I think it's only fair that you should be the first one to dish out some justice. So, you've got your gun. Now it's time for you to use it."

Ritchie ordered Adam to his feet and told Gary to raise his weapon. "Here's your chance to pay him back for stealing away your missus."

Gary, who had been confident with the plan up until now, was beginning to lose his nerve. His finger was hesitant to pull the trigger. "I… I don't think I can."

"Sure you can!" said Ritchie. "You hate this guy, don't you? He's the one who stole your girl away! While you were picking paint off the walls, he's been sharing her bed… doesn't that make you angry? Doesn't it make you mad?!"

"Yeah…"

"So channel that anger," Ritchie urged him. "Pull the trigger."

Peter weakly lifted his head. "Gary, don't do it…"

"It's okay, Peter." The Scotsman never broke from Gary's stare. "Well? What are you waiting for? Do it."

Gary had dreamt of this moment for so long, but now it was upon him, he wasn't sure if he had the bottle to go through with it. He hated Adam with a passion, hated him for being with Sarah, but did that hatred run deep enough to actually kill him? To take away his life?

Gary wasn't so sure anymore.

Ritchie could see Gary was starting to doubt himself and began dripping poison in his ear. "Come on Gazza, this is why we're here, isn't it? To get even. To hurt the people who hurt us. Guys like him think they can walk all over guys like us, they think they're better because they've got a glittering career and money in the bank. Well, not anymore. Now you're the one in control. You're the one with the gun. So use it. Pull the trigger. End him."

The gun rattled as Gary looked into Adam's eyes. "Please, don't make me do this, Ritch, I don't want to do this—"

"Shoot him!" ordered Ritchie.

Gary squeezed his eyes shut as his finger applied pressure to the trigger.

A loud crash came from the kitchen.

Gary's finger sprung from the trigger and Ritchie's head whipped around to the bar. "What the hell was that?"

Nick and Rob ducked from the window. Nick had accidentally knocked a pan off the stove and it had clattered to the floor. Nick cringed, knowing he had given away their position. Panicking, he turned to Rob. "What do we do?"

Thinking fast, Rob pointed to the walk-in fridge. "Go hide in there."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, just go!" Rob shoved him away and Nick ran into the fridge, shutting himself inside.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the falling pan had knocked one of the oven dials, turning on the gas hob…

As Ritchie went to investigate the noise, Carla took the opportunity to work on Gary. She could tell by the relief on his face that he was glad for the interruption. He didn't want to kill Adam.

"It's not too late to stop all this, you know."

"Shut up."

"Anyone can see you don't want to shoot Adam, it's written all over your face."

Gary thrust the gun in her face. "I said shut up."

"Why did you let Sarah and Bertie go?"

Her question made Gary pause for thought.

"I'll tell you why," she continued at his silence. "Because you didn't want them to get hurt. Because somewhere inside, you're still a good person."

"I'd be quiet if I were you. Ritchie will be back any minute."

Carla ignored his warning. Despite Gary's denials, she could see she was starting to get through to him. "Earlier you told me you weren't like Phelan. Well, now's your chance to prove it. Help us, Gary. Let us go. You're not a bad person, not really. Rana's death was an accident, I know that. And Rick… you were just defending yourself, isn't that right? You're not a killer. You're not like Ritchie. You don't want any more death on your conscience. You can still do the right thing."

They were interrupted as Ritchie reappeared.

He wasn't alone and Carla watched as her brother was frogmarched out from behind the bar.

"Look who I found skulking in the kitchen like a rat!" Ritchie announced.

Rob looked at his sister, then briefly at Tracy, before lowering his gaze to the floor, the guilt he felt for landing them in such danger too much for him to bear.

Ritchie playfully slapped him on the back. "Well, aren't you going to say anything? It's been three years and not even a hello? Aren't you surprised to see me?"

Rob lifted his gaze. "Surprised? No, not really. I heard you'd escaped so I figured it was only a matter of time before you came looking for me."

"And now here I am! So how's it been so far, life as a free man? I still don't know how you managed to wrangle that one!"

Rob shrugged. "What can I say? I just got lucky."

"Well my friend, your luck's run out. This has been a long time coming, Donovan. Nobody crosses Ritchie Silverman and gets away with it, not even you."

Rob gave another shrug of his shoulders. "Well, here I am. I'm done hiding. So if you want to kill me, go ahead."

"Kill you?" Ritchie erupted with boisterous laughter. "Now, why would I want to do a thing like that? Killing you would be too easy. That's why I'm going to kill them instead…" He pulled out a gun from the waistband of his trousers and began shifting it between Carla and Tracy. "So you've got a choice to make… who dies first? The woman you love or your precious sister? Choose carefully."

Both women watched, terrified, as the gun shifted back and forth, turning on them, then turning away again.

"Come on, we're waiting for an answer. Who's it going to be?"

Tracy looked at Rob pleadingly. "Babe…"

Rob wanted desperately to reassure her that everything was going to be alright, that he had the situation under control, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her…

Someone was about to die, and he was powerless to stop it. Tracy or Carla. Who was it going to be? He had to decide.

But how was he meant to decide? They were the two people he loved more than anything! How could he ever choose between them? It was impossible!

He looked at his sister who seemed oddly stoic, a false act of bravery, he knew. She always tried to appear calm and unafraid, even when she really wasn't.

Tracy, however, was the polar opposite of calm. She clasped her hands together as if praying and threw herself down at Ritchie's feet. "Please don't kill me," she begged. "I've got a young daughter who needs me… and an elderly father to care for! And a business to run! Peoples livelihood depend on me! Please, I'm only 43… I'm too young to die!"

Her words had no effect on Ritchie. "Come on, Rob, hurry up and make a decision, will you? This is getting boring now."

Rob looked at his nemesis. "Ritchie, please… don't do this. I'm begging you."

"Sorry, no can do."

"Why are you doing this?!"

"Why?" Ritchie's face grew dark and menacing. "You know exactly why. You betrayed me, boy. You took away the two most precious things to me! So it's only fair I do the same to you. An eye for an eye, and all that."

Rob knew Ritchie was referring to his wife and daughter. Rob remembered how much Ritchie looked forward to their visits. They were his whole world. Ritchie was a reprehensible human being who'd done some despicable things, but his one redeeming quality was his love for them. Sandra's death destroyed him. Rob remembered hearing him break down in his cell when he got the news of her death. It was the one and only time Ritchie had ever shown any kind of emotion, any ounce of vulnerability.

Tears welled in Rob's eyes. "Ritchie, I'm sorry about your wife and daughter… I really am. But please, if you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me, kill me. Not them. I betrayed you. This is between you and me, no one else."

Ritchie yawned loudly. "Come on, I'm falling asleep here, pick one. Who are you going to let die first? The woman you love, the woman you were going to marry, the same woman who handed you over to the police? Or your sister? The one you killed for, the one you signed your life away for, the one who heard your confession and turned you in without a second's thought?" Ritchie chuckled. "Both betrayed you in one way or another so you could argue they've had this coming."

Feeling utterly helpless, Rob could no longer hold back his tears. "Ritchie, please."

"Right, time's up! I'm picking for you." Ritchie lined up Tracy in his sights and the woman crawled backwards, away from the pointed gun, shaking her head at what she knew was about to happen…

Then something unexpected happened.

Gary raised his gun at Ritchie.

Ritchie looked at him and laughed. "Gazza, what's going on, mate? What are you doing?"

"This has gone far enough," said Gary, whose finger rested on the trigger. "We're letting them go."

Carla's words from before had finally gotten the better of him. All this time he thought he wanted revenge, to hurt those who had wronged him, but killing wasn't the answer, he saw that now.

Ritchie laughed again. "What do you mean we're letting them go? Are you mad? The whole reason we broke out was so we could do this, so we could get our own back. This is what we've always wanted."

"Not anymore," said Gary. "This is wrong. And I'm putting a stop to it. We're letting them go. All of them. No one dies today."

"But these people, they're responsible for getting you sent down."

"No, they're not. The only person to blame for me ending up behind bars, is me."

"I know what this is," Ritchie began. "You're scared. It's all become real and now you're too chicken to go through with it. But we can't back out now, Gazza. Not when we've come so far. We've got to finish what we started."

"No." Gary's word was final. He wasn't backing down. He kept his gun trained on Ritchie.

Ritchie laughed again, but there was a nervousness to it this time. "What are you going to do, Gazza? Shoot me? I thought we were mates, I thought we had each other's backs?"

"I don't want to have to kill you. But I can't let you hurt these people. We have to let them go, Ritch. We have to."

Very slowly, Ritchie lowered his weapon. "Alright, mate, whatever you want, just lower your gun. Come on, Gazza, don't be a prat, put the gun down."

"Don't do it, Gary," Carla warned him.

But Gary wanted to trust Ritchie. They were friends after all. They'd shared a cell together, been in hiding together. They looked out for one another. That's how it was. Ritchie wouldn't hurt him.

Gary lowered his gun to his side, a move which proved to be a fatal mistake.

The second he lowered the weapon, Ritchie's hand sprung back up and he fired three bullets into Gary's chest.

There was no hesitation, no remorse.

Just bang, bang, BANG!

Each blow sent Gary staggering backwards. He looked down at the three holes in his shirt before dropping to his knees. He looked at Ritchie, shocked and confused, unable to speak, then, as the life drained from his eyes, he fell forwards, landing face-down next to Ritchie's feet.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Blood oozed from under Gary's lifeless body and spread across the tiles like a dark syrupy liquid. Gary had been their only hope of getting out alive. And now he was dead. Just like they were all about to be.

Tracy stared at the blood pooling across the tiled floor. "You killed him…"

"How observant of you," remarked Ritchie. He shook his head at the body on the ground. "It's a pity. He wasn't the brightest of sparks, but I quite liked him. Oh well. Anyway, where were we? Ah, that's right!"

His gun flipped back to Tracy whose eyes widened with alarm.

"We were deciding who gets to die first! Let's make this fun, shall we? Let's play a little game…" He began shifting the gun from Tracy to Carla. "Eenie, meenie, miney, mo, catch a tiger by its toe…"

Tracy and Carla looked at each other, then back at the gun, both praying that it wouldn't land on them.

"If it squeals, let it go…"

The tense situation had sobered Peter up and he was fully alert and pumping with adrenaline as his eyes followed the gun, watching as it switched from Carla to Tracy.

Rob was begging Ritchie to stop, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Peter shared Rob's helplessness. They were in exactly the same boat. They both faced losing their sister and the woman they loved and neither one of them could do a thing to stop it.

"Eenie, meenie, miney… mo."

The gun landed on its target and all the air was sucked out of the room.

Ritchie's gold tooth twinkled in the light as he grinned at the woman in his line of fire. "You're it."

Peter's heart caught in his chest. "No…"

"No, please," cried Rob. "I'll do anything!"

"Enough!" Ritchie barked, and it went quiet once again.

Nobody breathed as Carla was ordered to her feet.

"Any last words?" asked Ritchie.

Carla looked at her brother, then at Peter. They should be married by now, raising a toast with family and friends, making daft speeches and dancing the night away. But instead, here they were, and the long, happy future they thought was theirs, was about to be cut tragically short.

She could see Peter was thinking of doing something stupid and she shook her head at him. This wasn't the time to play the hero. He'd been her white knight so many times before, but this time he couldn't save her. He'd only wind up getting himself hurt.

She smiled at him, letting him know it was okay and not to be scared.

In truth, she was terrified. Every cell in her body was screaming out not to die. But she wouldn't give Ritchie the satisfaction of showing that fear.

Now more than ever, she needed to be brave.

She shared a look with Peter that they both knew was goodbye, then she faced Ritchie and bravely shook her head. "No."

"Alrighty then." As his finger wrapped around the trigger, Carla squeezed her eyes shut.

Memories flashed before her eyes; setting foot in the factory for the first time armed with two bottles of bubbly. The glory days of strutting about the shop floor in her six-inch heels, feeling invincible… She'd started out as a joke, no one believed she had what it took to run the place, but she rose to the challenge magnificently and proved them all wrong. She'd steered that factory through some of its toughest times and despite all the grief and heartache it had caused her over the years, she could honestly say her time as the factory boss was one of the proudest moments of her life.

She thought of Michelle, Roy, Hayley, Simon and little Bertie… She loved them all so much.

The last memories to run through her head were ones of Peter. Small, precious moments they'd shared over the years that she wanted to take with her from this life to the next.

Walking into the alcoholics anonymous meeting and him turning around to look at her; singing 'Fly Me To The Moon' together in the Rover's backyard; the kiss they'd shared the night of the tram crash memorial and their stroll through the park the next day. Their heart to heart in the snooker hall; the look on his face when she'd bought him a boat; him cradling her in his arms as she wept in the corner of Roy's café; the strength at which he clung to her on the fire escape; proposing to her in the empty bistro; dancing together on New Year's Eve; surprising her with Sadie…

So many moments, all passing before her so fast she could barely keep up, all building to this moment.

This was it. The end of the line.

She thought of Peter's big brown eyes, his dimpled smile, that little smirk he'd give her from across a room when nobody else was looking. God, she loved him. If there was one thing she was grateful for in this life, it was that they'd found each other.

Why did it have to end like this?

Please don't let me die. I don't want to die. I want to live. I want to li—

BANG!

Author's note: I tried to get this chapter out as quickly as I could, so I hope it wasn't too bad! Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter – and all your comments regarding the current state of the show, I totally agree! Let's hope things pick up soon and that Fizz, Tyrone, Alina and (baby killer?) Hope take a looong vacation from the street (preferably with Chesney and Gemma)!

If you liked what you read, please leave me a review – I really do appreciate the feedback and it's my only way of gauging whether people are still enjoying this or not.

As always, thanks for reading. Until next time! :)