Hi readers!

Hope you are all well.

Life has been busy with work changes and such, but I have

not forgotten about this story or future writing.

I wish you all a wonderful New Year !

Chapter 18

Trusting a Stranger

1958 – Hereford, UK

Toni's statement bled into Georgie's psyche. At first it felt like an excruciating splash of ice water then each word found it's way deep into her heart. Had she doubted Elvis' return?

No. Not really. She knew what he was capable of, but the longer this rolled on, tiny voices crept in to taunt her. Hearing that Spunky had been wounded only strengthened those taunts. Her husband was attempting to thwart a madman with only two of his team members at his side. She handed a beer to Toni who easily twisted the cap off and flung it into the kitchen bin with a flick of her thumb.

"Not joining me?" Toni said throwing back a full swallow.

"Nah. I need to get this little soldier off to bed," Georgie said nodding towards her son.

"Understood," Toni lifted the bottle once again. She knew no amount of drink would change what she was hoping to numb herself from, but right now, she did not care. She watched Georgie pick up Daniel and hoist him against a hip.

"Yes. You can take bunny with ya," Georgie said as the boy flailed away from her reaching for the stuffed rabbit.

Toni stooped to pick it up, holding it out to him. Daniel was wary but as Toni wiggled the ears, Daniel warmed to the idea and grabbed it away from her.

"Reckon I'll be a mum someday?" Toni said, pleased the boy was slowly accepting her.

"I never thought I would settle down and be a mum," Georgie said. "But I must be honest. I would not trade it for anything. I'll be back. There's left over pot roast in the fridge, help yourself."

Toni answered with a thumbs up and said, "I may just take you up on that, but first I'm gonna see if I can conjure up any intel."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Georgie said heading up the stairs with Daniel.

Xxxxx

1959 - Undisclosed Location

All the passengers were safely extracted from the carriage, save for one, and that knowledge ate at Elvis. Leaning against the gnarled metal of the connecting door he observed a handful of survivors being treated by medical personnel. A bus was already pulling away and he could see many faces against the windows eager to catch a final glimpse of what was happening. The manifest listed Avery Bowers as the missing ticket holder.

"What do ya reckon boss? Is she one of them?" Jackson said.

Elvis shrugged. "I wouldn't lay any money on a bet, but I'm thinkin no. This prick sent everybody else out to do his dirty work. He ain't gonna share the glory. Prepare to engage. If he pops out like a jack in the box with her though, he's going down, copy?"

"Copy," Jackson said as Elvis sprinted up the aisle to Spanner.

Xxxxx

2010 - Hereford, UK

"Georgie! Georgie!" Toni shouted, hurrying into the front hallway.

"What is it?! What's happening?!" Georgie's footsteps thudded on the floorboards above as she raced to the top of the stairs.

"Peters just texted that the passengers are off the train!" Toni said furiously waving her mobile.

Georgie barely glanced off each step making her way down. "You mean the ones still stuck on there. This isn't shit from earlier?" She said reaching the bottom.

Toni's blue eyes were lit with excitement. "Affirmative. He said there were thirty persons taken off the final carriage but there is still no live coverage."

Georgie picked up the remote, targeting the flatscreen on the wall. She flashed through the channels with increasing dismay. "Shit! Well, good on Peters to give us a heads up then, yeah?"

"True to his word that one," Toni said scrolling furiously to see if there was any information on social media.

Georgie felt a gnawing in the pit of her gut, creeping up slowly until it became difficult to breathe. She grabbed onto the back of the sofa and dug her nails into the fabric. This nightmare was coming to an end. But when would she hear from Elvis?

Xxxxx

Undisclosed Location

Elvis flexed his fingers, gesturing for Spanner to meet him half-way. "We 'ave to flush him out," he said.

Spanner quirked his mouth doubtfully and said, "If he's got her in there, we increase the risk."

Elvis nodded casually, "Roger 'at, but a) we do not know her status and b) the longer we give him time to make plans, the more we'll 'ave to react to. So, I am pushin the buttons now. He gave twenty minutes, I'm giving him ten, but he don't know 'at. Since we can't breach the access door we'll go through the windshield. If he tries to spring through 'ere, he's done. End of story."

"Roger boss," Spanner sprinted to the rear nodding to Jackson as he passed by. In seconds the SF lieutenant was on top of the carriage, crawling forwards until he was eye level with the upper frame of the driver's windshield. Reaching into a cargo pocket of his trouser he pulled out a small putty explosive, molded it tightly with his fingers then reached down to place it in the middle of the glass. "In position," he said over comms.

"Really good," Elvis said. "No second chances boys." He drew his pistol and positioned himself against a wall near the interior access door. "Standby, standby…engage!" he ordered.

Spanner detonated the explosive creating a brilliant burst of sparks and glass. Once the windshield was breached Spanner tossed a flash bang inside adding concussive noise and smoke to the mix. Elvis could hear muffled screams. He signaled for Jackson to prepare and anticipated the hostage would be used as a shield. He slid in closer to the door and heard a female voice shout, "No!"

"He's makin his move boys," Elvis said over comms.

"Copy," returned in tandem.

"Don't!" The female voice shouted.

Just as the interior access door slid open, releasing smoky remnants of the flash bang, Elvis held back engagement until it was clear who would emerge first. Jackson was in position to take the shot if the hostage was compromised. A black shoe crossed the threshold followed by a large male frame shrouded in black. Elvis palmed his pistol and swung his extended arms up level to the side of the person's head.

"End of the line pal," Elvis said.

His quarry froze. "Fuck you!"

Elvis pressed the tip of the barrel into his temple and said, "Drop the weapon. We're done 'ere."

The man sneered, his lips twisting into a maniacal curl. "This accomplishes absolutely nothing. We are not done by half."

"Drop the weapon and put your hands on your fuckin head. The drama ends now," Elvis said pressing the barrel in deeper.

Seconds ticked off. The man was staring into the cross hairs of the sniper's rifle at the end of the aisle, and he could feel the cold steel of Elvis' 9 mm flush against his skull bone.

"What's it gonna be?" Elvis said.

The man limply dropped the pistol from his hand, the weight of it clanking onto the floor. His hands went to his head as ordered. Elvis pulled back just enough to kick the weapon away. Aware that Jackson had eyes on the target Elvis shoved his pistol into his waistband and grabbed hold of the target's wrists, pulling them down and back to secure them with zip ties.

"Target subdued. Talk to me Spans." Elvis said into comms.

"Female in cabin, otherwise clear," Spanner said.

"Copy. MI5 Ready to extract target, over."

"Copy. Good work Elvis, over," Dave Warner's voice crackled back over comms.

Metro counter-terrorism personnel boarded the carriage, swarming the target and escorting him away.

"We're clear mate," Elvis said stepping into the cabin, quickly scanning the damage. Spanner was stood relaxed, pistol in hand resting against his chest. Elvis' gaze fell onto the hostage and the woman exchanged a once over with him.

Red metro lights flashed through the broken windshield casting eerie shades on their faces. Shouts outside competed with radio calls as the authorities worked to finally bring an end to this hijacking.

"Who are you?" the woman said to Elvis.

He could not help noticing the way her eyes narrowed to almost slits. "Started out as just another passenger," he said.

"A passenger who just happens to be armed?"

"Wasn't my idea ma'am. What's your name?" he said.

"Avery Bowers."

"Alright Ms, Bowers. Are ya injured?"

"I am not," she said folding arms across her chest.

Elvis shot a quick look at Spanner. "We'll get ya checked out anyway," he said reaching a hand towards her. "We need to move."

She pulled back from him, "I do not need checked out," she said moving towards the exterior access door.

"Not that way," Spanner said blocking her attempt with his heavily kitted frame.

"Why not?" she said trying to push past him.

"The door is armed. We leave this way," Elvis said now planting a firm hand on her.

She jutted her jaw forward in defiance and said, "How do you know that?"

Elvis paused to look down at her. "Trust me," was all he said coaxing her into the carriage.

"Trust you?! I don't even know who the hell you are!"

"Well, we're gettin ya outa 'ere alive, so that should tell ya something," he said nudging her further.

"It tells me nothing," she said twisting to release his grip on her.

Elvis stopped them both and reigned in his frustration. "Look. I know you 'ave been through it. It ain't been pleasant, but it's over. OK?"

Her face suffused with color. "Fine. Have it your way," she said prying his fingers from her arm. She turned abruptly and made her way to the back of the carriage, eying Jackson as she approached him. Elvis raised a questioning brow at Spanner.

"She shell-shocked boss?" Spanner said.

"Maybe," Elvis said quickening his pace to meet up behind her. "MI5, confirmed, hostage is identified as a one, Avery Bowers" he said into comms.

A female medic stationed close by saw the hostage emerging. "Miss…Miss….here, let me help you," the medic said.

"No. No, I'm fine actually."

"Sorry, but it is protocol. I must examine you," the medic said extending a hand to direct her to an ambulance several meters away.

"As I told you. I am fine."

"I understand you feel this way, but I do need to make certain there are no hidden injuries. Please step up inside here so that I can perform a proper examination. It won't take long, I promise."

Ms. Avery Bowers gritted her teeth. Beneath hooded eye lids she looked up at the medic, channeling as much venom as she could in that one glare. But in the background, she saw him. The tall arrogant passenger in jeans. He was watching her. Who the hell is he?