"Spiders in the Curtains"

sub-title?

genre: fiction

started: 1.10.08

mj12cz

Trade had been slow at the Road café, but what would you expect it was the middle of winter and the tourist trade had long since finished and given way to the bitter wind and rain of a Yorkshire winter.
Martin cleaned away the remains of a “tea for two” he wondered if it was worth coming in, only four costumers all day and not a tip in sight! But “hey its not my problem as long as head office pay my wages” he thought.

The wind howled around the wood frame building while Martin took a breather, with no customers in sight he brewed a cup of tea and sat down with his book.
“Hey Geek” do you want a burger? Shouted the chef from behind the kitchen unit startling the student who was reading quietly….
“Yep, go on I’m starving he said…”

About 40 miles away things were totally different, pain and stress adorned the face of the driver of an Audi as the car hurtled down the road, sweat pouring from his brow a smear of blood dripping from his jacket lapel.

The driver accelerated hard, the engine screaming in protest as he revved hard and pushed the speed over 130 mph, The driver fumbled on the seat next to him for his gun, but it has slid down the seat while taking a sharp corner, “Blast” thought the driver as the car belted forward,

The Audi showed the scars of its assault on the car behind dented all over and smashed windows it have proved a useful tool, but it was starting to give up the ghost, the temperature was in the red and the driver knew he may have to fight his way out.

The car behind was an angry black BMW, and it was doing its best to keep up, the driver calm and professional tried to predict the Audi’s next move. But what was coming he could never predict…

WOW, this is amazing Pat, I'm on the edge of my seat here, yikes - the temperature was in the red? The dripping blood - this is a full scale MOVIE!! falkor
1/10/08

The Audi, with steam streaming out of the engine bay ploughed down the road with vengeance like nothing ever seen in the small Yorkshire village it was travelling through, the driver had calmed a bit, he was on his own turf now, memories of his youth flooded through his head, he was on home territory and local knowledge was his best friend. Suddenly he felt a punch to his back that knocked the wind out of him, he was angry now. The road out of the village led to a humped back bridge over a disused railway line, the line long since gone and over grown, closed in the 60’s by Beeching. This was his salvation. The road known by locals the devils cutting had claimed many lives in the past.

The Audi hit the bridge and took off, the chassis wobbled and twisted as it gained height. The front wheels were the first to impact the ground and rammed the suspension into it top housing bending the engine bay upwards, the engine itself dug into road surface scooping out a large grove. As the car shifted forwards the exhaust compressed shearing off the catalytic convertor at both ends sending it spinning out from under the car. As the rear of the car hit the ground the remaining rear section of the exhaust dug in and pivoted the back of the Audi skyward until it too sheared off sending it out from under the car like javelin. The driver of the BMW confident in his own abilities hit the bridge at speed only to see the Audi being launched up ward by the wayward exhaust. The remaining rear exhaust hit the BMW low down on the windscreen, slicing through the dashboard and into the driver, he was dead before the car hit the road surface.

The Audi spun around almost rolling over eventually coming to a rest on top of a dry stone wall. The driver watched fascinated, terrified as the BMW crashed through the wall on the opposite side and rolled harmlessly into the field scattering the sheep. Then nothing…He half expected to see the driver get out, but nothing. He reached down the side of the seat for his pistol, his hands shaking from the adrenalin rushing through his body he pulled it out and into his jacket pocket and got out of the steaming car. Slowly he walked over to the BMW wearily he approached, the gun now drawn, he looked into the car to see the body of the driver slumped forward. A bizarre feeling of total relief and sickness came over him as he stumbled back to the car.

He was suddenly brought back to reality by the headlights of an approaching car, quickly he fetched a small yellow plastic case from the remains of the Audi and waited for the car to stop.

“Crikey mate are you ok?” said a strong Yorkshire accented man.

“Fine” he replied as he drew the pistol from his jacket pocket and pointed at the man.

It didn’t take a second for the driver to throw over his keys. He winced in pain as he approached the car, suddenly a sharp pain ran up his side he instinctively reached to his kidney only to feel a damp sticky patch on his back, he knew now he did not have too long, the reality of what was happening to him gave him a sudden jolt and a new sense of purpose. He knew he may have to die for it, but that was always the risk.

The car fired up and he headed out of the village, he had no idea what he was going to do, things had not exactly gone to plan. It was time to adlib a bit. After 10 miles he decided he needed to change the vehicle, he had seen several sets of blue lights rushing to the crash scene and it was only a matter of time before they caught up with him… He saw a dimly lit road café, he would park up and head out on foot till he could find another suitable vehicle, the car park did not hold much choice, there was a 50cc scooter and an old series 3 Land Rover. As soon as he registered this he passed out…

“Dude you ok?” a voice said.
“Oh yes, yeah I’m fine, fine” he said “help me out the car will you” He looked up seeing a fresh faced student and the Café’s chef looking in at him, the car had come to a rest against a tree in the empty car park. “Help me in lads I could do with a brew”
“Wow, you’re bleeding man, I’ll call an ambulance” said the chef.
“No I’m fine, just get me inside”
“But mate, you are bleeding, I’ll get you some…”
“No, I said No” shouted the man pulling the pistol from his jacket. The two jumped back, “Your mobile phones give them to me… Now” he shouted. Martin and the chef threw them on the floor.
“Look we don’t want any trouble, you can have the takings, Its…”
“I don’t want your money, I just need to get this case inside” The two helped the man inside.
“I need to entrust something to you, something important.”
“Look I’m a student I don’t want to get involved.”
“Too late son you are involved, you have no choice, and the both of you are involved.” This is not a good idea he thought, but he had no other choice. Soon he would be gone so he had to do something.

“Listen to me, the owners of this case want it back, you have to help me get it back to them, a lot depends on it, do you understand?

“Yeah, but why us? We can’t help, I mean I just a student, I don’t want any trouble.” Protested Martin
“Look mate, its called bad luck” Coughed the man “Just by meeting me you life is at risk, Its too late, you might as well be helpful.
“Ok, who are the owners? What’s in the case?” asked Martin, the Chef was eyeing the pistol on the table nervously.
“Bloody students” muttered the man, “always so full of questions”
Ok, just listen to what I going to tell you, its important, You need take it somewhere by Thursday at 1900, the owners will collect it.”
“But I don’t get it where, what’s this all about?”
“There’s a web site” he pressed on ignoring the plea, ”pass me some paper” The man wrote, The writing was almost illegible and it smeared with blood, he scribbled the website down.

www.Bargainbooks.co.net

“In the search section put the code, 2089Starbright, it will open another window, the rest you’ll have to figure out for your self, you will be given the coordinates or someone will meet you.”
“What is it, what’s in the case?” Martin asked… “All in good time” the man said as he breathed out showy, his breath rasping as he slipped in to unconsciousness and died.

The two just stood there saying nothing, looking at the body, neither knowing what to say. The chef leaned forward and picked up the case. “Do you think it valuable?” Suddenly there was a loud click and the window broke. Martin spun around to see shards of glass spinning through the air, Just as his friend buckled at the knee and dropped to the floor, dead.

He instinctively ducked down and dashed forward just as another round whistled past him gouging out splinters of wood from the table adjacent to him, he grabbed the case and the note in one tenth of a second and ran.

Out side the sniper all dressed in black was cursing him self, how could he have been so stupid, he had the perfect position in an old hey barn about 500 yards away and now he had given himself away. The location had been perfect, shooting through glass is not always easy, but he had done it before, but the angle was not easy for the second shot and he had not allowed for the distortion that double glazing gives. However there was no time to kick himself, he grabbed his Mini-Hecate 7.62 rifle and dashed for the car he had hidden at the back of the barn.

Martin bolted into the kitchen area, ducking as he passed the office window, it was time to get out. He figured as the rounds had come through the front he could get into the car park at the back with out being shot, he reached in his pocket for his and pulled out his keys. “Thank God” he cried out.
He paused by the fire exit at the back of the wash up area, his mind racing, this case, his friend dead… what the hell is going on? He had to go, get the hell out of there. He then ran out to his Land Rover that was sat in the car park.
His 1973 Series 3 88” Land Rover was his pride and joy, it was old, cold and uncomfy but he loved it the moment he got had seen her at the garage. However she had not always proved totally reliable and he prayed this day she would not let him down. He pulled the door handle and leaped in, throwing the case in the foot well. He was exposed now, half expecting for his lights to out, but nothing, suddenly the landies 2 ¼ petrol engine sprang to life and with a startle he was off. Just then a silver Audi came flying into the car park its occupant leaping out of the car firing a pistol wildly. The windscreen splintered as the rounds passed harmlessly through, he was away flooring it to the max. The Audi driver now smug his pray in a 50 mph relic was no match for his 150mph Audi and he set off to finish what he had started.

It did not take long for Martin to realise he was no match for the Audi, but he had a plan…

Two miles up the road is a left turn down a green lane known locally as The Gully. If he could make it to The Gully he had a chance. It was a narrow gravel track, but after about a mile or so it became a muddy lane and the Audi would struggle. The Audi caught up with him after a mile or so, the driver pulled up beside him and raised his pistol, Martin instinctively rammed the Audi…
“The lad has balls” thought the Audi driver, he gained a certain respect for his prey, however he was just putting off the inevitable so what bother. He re aliened the Audi and started winding down the window, no point shooting out the glass and a windy ride home. As he raised the gun, the lad turned and swore at him as the land Rover peeled off down the lane… The Audi Driver was not expecting this and swore loudly while stamping on the breaks and spinning the car around. The Audi sped down the gravel track with the vengeance of an angry hornet. His foe was smarter than he thought in a few seconds he would realise that he was much smarter than he thought.

In his mirror, Martin could see the Audi gaining ground, the headlights shrouded in clouded in dust kicked up from the Land Rovers mud terrain tyres. Suddenly there was a big bump, Martin smiled, now he had the advantage, he rammed it into four wheel drive, the Transfer box screamed and he in protest, but the big Mud Terrain tyres dug in and the old car pressed forward.

The Audi driver realised he had been beaten when he felt the road surface change, he knew it would be a long walk back if he got stuck but this was not then end. He stopped and opened the door and got half out looking at the disappearing Land Rover, he smiled “Clever lad”

Martin continued down the lane until he arrived at Five Barns Hill. This was the highest point of The Gully and gave a fantastic view of the surrounding countryside even with the evening drawing and the light fading. Five Barns hill was named after the five old stone cattle sheds that had adorned the top of the hill. Long since out of use they had fallen into dis repair. The modern farming practice of large steel frame cattle sheds and massive tractors had put a swift end to their use. For a while they had been used to store hay bales, but even they had got bigger and required specialist kit to move and load them so as the time went on the barns had started to decay and become over grown.
Martin stopped the Land Rover switched off the lights and got out, looking back down the lane there was no sign of the Audi, it was way too rutted for a low slung sleek German car to go. The adrenalin was still flowing through his body, his hands shaking violently then he proceeded to throw up.

Meanwhile the Audi driver re joined the road and headed back to the Café, He was hoping no one else was there or his job would be a little harder. When he arrived he was relived to see no one else there and slipped on a pair of black leather gloves, he wasted no time in going into the Road Café and switching off the lights. He turned the sign to closed and went about his work.
The man felt no compassion for the two bodies that rested silently inside. The first one he knew, not a man he knew well but he had seen him around. He looked at the bullet wound on the lower part of his back, not his best shot but not bad for hitting a moving car. What he didn’t know was the bullet had been a ricochet off the window pillar and had stuck the driver low down. The body was slumped over a table like a drunk on a Friday night, he checked its pockets for anything useful, notes, phone anything but nothing the man had be clever enough to discard non essential items.
The second body had been a classic right between the eyes shot, text book stuff. The chef lay motionless on his back in a pool of crimson blood, it had a corporate name tag pinned to its shirt “David Winton”; he left it alone there was no reason to check it.
Now he had to trace the driver of the Land Rover, he made his was into the back of the café and located the managers office. It was typical of a small arm or a larger company. There was a weekly rota on the wall, he located today’s date, it said “ Dave and Martin” and some one had scribbled “Geek” next to Martin and put a smiley face on it.
He then went through the filing cabinet until he found the staff records and searched for Martin, then he struck gold.

Martin Smith DOB 14.06 1987
Address 22 Princess Gardens
South Wick
North Yorkshire

Tel 07913 448752

He quickly scribbled down the details and headed to the car parked in the car park. As he got in his phone rang…
“Have you got the source yet?” an accented voice asked
“No sir, there has been a bit of a hiccup” he replied.
“Let me make this clear, I do not like surprises and I don’t want excuses, we want that the source back. You do what ever it takes, we want it back.”
“Yes sir, I’m working on it as we speak” he replied
“Good” the line went dead. The man sat in the car then picked up the phone, perhaps I can reason with the lad. He started to dial the number he had scribbled down. A second or two later he heard music coming from the car park, still with his phone to his ear he located the source of the noise, another mobile phone, it lay bay the front wheel of the damaged Vauxhall Astra. Whilst frustrating it was he could not speak to the lad, the phone may be useful. He switched it off and put it in his pocket. “Perhaps the police can help locate him” he thought. He then set fire to the car resting against the tree and left.

After a few minuets Martin was able to gain his composure, he had to think but he couldn’t his friend was dead, shot in the head, for what some yellow plastic case. What had he got involved in, he was a student for Christ sake. It was all too much for him to take in and a wave of nausea swept over him and he threw up again.
He felt the wind pick up, the trees blowing in the half light of the winter evening and he wondered what to do. He felt into his pocket for his mobile phone and then remembered it was still in the car park of the café.
Ok time to take stock, he would drive to a local Police station and report what he knew. The police can take charge of the yellow case and he can get on with his life. Simple… Or perhaps not.
He figured the guy who shot his friend was a professional. “What if he had a map and was just sat waiting at the other entrance to the lane.” It was a 50/50 risk and he was not prepared to take. The old Series 3 was no match for the Audi on the open road he had been lucky once but his luck could run out and he was just not prepared to risk it. The barns were a perfect place to put the Land Rover for the time being, he could come and get it later. The lane was only used by Green Laners and the farmer from time to time. The Land Rover could be easily hidden in one of the old barns and luckily there was plenty of old sheeting that could be thrown over it. For good measure he put a note in window saying it had broken down and he would collect it when he had the parts. He then removed the coil lead and distributor cap and stashed them in another part of the barn.
He grabbed his old cammo jacket from the back of the car, a tatty old road atlas, a bottle of water and a torch. Sat on the passengers seat was the yellow case that had bee the cause of so much trouble. It was locked with a 6 digit combi lock, he tried the catch for good measure but it would not budge so he would take it with him. He picked it up off the seat, it felt surprisingly heavy. He had not noticed it when he dashed from the Cafe, the adrenalin had masked its weight and now he wondered what was in it and why people would kill indiscriminately to get it. It would not be long before he would find out, but for now he would have to wait.
He gathered everything up and started his long walk over the moors.

The Oxbow Club in London was like most of the old Gentleman’s clubs in the city it was a relic of the 1920’s where the city bankers and stock brokers could talk shop with out upsetting the ladies. It halls panelled with oak and lined with pictures of its famous members long dead. The club was started in the 1830’s by a tea trader who had made his money importing tea from India. It had grown to be one of the more popular clubs in the city however the old tradition of being nominated to join was still in practice which kept the numbers of members down to only a round one hundred. Sat on a large leather clad arm chair was a grey haired man of around 60, his immaculate Savile suit adorned a trim figure, something he was proud of. Many friends had put on weight or sported a gin nose, but not him a regular work out kept him in shape.
He had just finished a mobile phone call and clicked the phone closed when a waiter dressed in fine white linen shirt and black trousers brought him a glass of port. He took the glass and with out a word he waited for the waiter to go. He then pulled another phone out of his pocket and dialled a 16 digit number.
“Confirm Alpha 34, How long have we got?” he asked, once he had the answer he quickly put the phone down and picked up the newspaper and scanned the stock and shares section.

Martin walked across the moors, the wind blowing hard from the west with it a little rain, he occasionally paused to take a swig from his water bottle and check his map. The yellow case proved more a real pain to carry. It was unusually heavy and proved awkward to carry but he carried on. He could see the lights of cars in the distance and watched them snake along the country roads.
The rain splashed a bit harder, his old jacket was starting to soak up the water like a sponge. He needed shelter and looked across the horizon but it was pitch black the countryside could be harsh and was a dangerous place in winter if exposed with out shelter. He trudged on, through the fields adorned with stone walls till he came to the remains of an old stone cottage. The house was long since abandoned, with the slate roof almost collapsed in. Martin opened the old wooden door and entered a world last seen in the 50’s, an old cast iron stove sat rusting in the living room. There was a table and a couple of broken chairs. The windows rattled as the wind blew in. He looked around, what a sorry state the cottage looked. Once a proud home to a working family now decayed with every passing day.

He sat in an old chair, resting, glad to be out of the wind and rain. He lifted the yellow case and put it on the table. “What the hell is all this about? What’s inside the case” he pulled his torch out of his pocket and shone it at the case. This thing was made to last, he held it up and examined it, quickly he had to put it down due to its weight. There was the 6 digit combi lock he had seen earlier, It had “You aint going to open me written all over it” He put it back on the table and them pulled out the map from his pocket. It took him a while but he located him self. The detailed Landranger map had a scale 1:50 000. It had been ideal for when he was Green laning in the landie and now proved almost as valuable. It showed every hill and gully in detail. After looking at the map he figured it would be early morning by the time he would get into town. He would have a rest then start back out. He slumped into the chair. Now the wind had picked up and was blowing hard out side. He tried to close his eyes and rest but there was too much going through his head.

Never in his life had he ever felt so alone, even after the death of his mother he did not feel this alone. After she died, his family had fussed around him for a few weeks but then all of a sudden left him and his father to it. His father had taken her death badly and had hit the bottle, he died just as Martin had started university, his last wish was for Martin to find another family, but at uni he had spent most of his time with his studies and had not made many friends in fact he did not have many friends back at home, just one local lad who he had known from school days. He had not gone to uni but had settled for a job at an electrical shop in South Wick. Martin wondered if his degree was worth doing. He had always been good at math’s and physics so a physics degree was what he opted to do. It have been a challenging subject, but it lacked something, however after 2 years of studying and student grants he figured he better carry on.
After about an hour the wind had dropped the curtains had stopped blowing through the broken windows. He felt it was best to stash the case rather than carry it with him. He figured if the shooter caught up with him and he was carrying the case he did not have a chance, but he would be very unlikely to kill him if only he knew where it was.

He looked around the room, the old stove make the perfect hiding place. He opened the old rusty door to the fire box it was full of loose old ash. The case fitted perfectly inside, he ruffed up the ash and buried the case.

He then continued his walk back into the town.

The two men left the office and gathered up the rest of the Majestic group. They all sat in the room that housed the computers, the men and women gathered casually a motley bunch if you ever saw one. Some sitting on the corner of the desks and chairs others just standing. There were 6 of them in total. Then another four who stood ridged straight, by their composure you could tell they were military or ex military. They waited, chatting amongst them selves until the office door opened then the group went quiet. The silence was a sign of respect professor Jackson enjoyed, this was borne out of hard work, resilience and pure bloody mindedness. All of the people gathered before him would be prepared to lay down their life for him and what he knew. “Ladies and Gentleman, we have lost total contact with Doctor Stanton his tracker has not moved for several hours, I fear the worst” the group murmured heads hung low. “But we must stay focused, the source is our prime objective. Doctor Stanton was resourceful, he would have found a way and we must look for the way. Candy, please could you monitor Bargain Books site, please keep all the firewalls and security set high. Peter you and your team need to start trying to track Doctor Stanton’s moves and find out what happened to him. The rest of you back to work. I have total faith in you all, you are the best at what you do.”

The group stood there in silence, “Professor?” asked a young man “What happens if its not onsite at the right time?”

“Well Simon, we shall have to wait and see” said the professor patting the young man on the shoulder. Simon Wells was the newest and youngest member of the group a total genius when it came to computers. He was 22 years old and impulsive he had come to the notice of the group when he hacked the Book shop site getting through all the security they had put up. He was located by Peter Elliott and his security team and from then on his life would never be the same. He started working for Majestic, his first job was to rebuild the security barriers that protected the Majestic’s systems along side Candy Wyatt and he installed custom built fire walls and security systems. Candy Had been with Majestic since day one and was impressed with his abilities he was almost too clever for his own good and the first six months he had to be watched carefully as there were encrypted files he could look at and knowing his abilities he could easily hack the files and that was not good.

Dawn broke over the Yorkshire dales with the majesty of a royal fan fair, the deep orange sky was cut with the outlines of dark rain clouds scurrying across the sky in the westerly wind. No matter how bad the weather was it never ceased to impress Martin. He had grown up to respect the fury of Mother Nature. She had once tried to claim him as her trophy one winter. Not long after he started driving he had crashed his car into a swollen river. He escaped with his life but only just. Since then he had always tried to be prepared, but this was more than he could have ever prepared for.

Martin had been walking for most of the night, he was soaking wet through and plastered with mud and he stood looking down on the town from a nearby hill. “Now this was going to be tricky” he thought. He would wander through the back streets until he got to the high street, there he figured he would covered by CCTV and would have a better chance of staying alive, then he would get to the local Police station and report the murders. Simple! what can go wrong?

Wearily walked down the side Street of the old market town it was 5.30 am, the town was deserted apart from the odd motorist and the stone buildings loomed above him gray and menacing. He checked every side street, and dashed across the road like a frightened rabbit. “This is crazy” he thought “look at the state of me, I must be mad” he continued down the alley was and leaned heavily against the window of an old style electrical shop. While he rested he caught a glimpse of one of the TV that was on in the window. Startled he just stared at the picture, the screen showed sky news and their lurid flashing red banners with “Breaking news” flashing slowly across the screen. Next to the presenter who was silently told the story was a photo of him, the one taken from his staff file. He read the subtitles at the bottom of the screen and it became clear he was the polices prime suspect for the murder of the two men at the road Café. His mind was spinning, he had no idea what to do next. Why him he kept thinking? he was just a student and his whole world was being turned up side down.

He dropped back on his haunches and put his head in his hands and started to cry. “For Christ sake pull your self together” he muttered, “what am I going to do?”

Suddenly he sprang up, with his hand in his pocket and pulled out the paper he had been given but the dying man. There it was, the bit of scrawled paper stained with blood and smudged by the rain that had soaked him to the skin. The web address still visible www.Bargainbooks.co.net. He looked down at this simple thing. Perhaps this was his only chance? The man died giving him this so perhaps it could be his savour.

Martin looked around, its time to log on he thought. But where? Martin did not have many friends but he did have an old school friend who lived in a small flat on the high street. He made his way there carefully so as not to draw any attention to him self and soon he was knocking hard at the flats door.

He heard a muffled voice “Coming, I’m coming for Christ sake, no need to wake the bloody dead” The door opened to revel a gangly man of about 21 years old in his boxer shorts. “What the? What happened to you?” he asked looking at the mud covered person stood in front of him. Martin wasted no time in answering him and pushed his way into the flat “Ill tell you over a brew” he replied.

Over the next few minuets Martin gave his friend a potted version of what happened, he left out the case and changed it to he had witnesses the murders. Neil his friend just sat there dumfounded not knowing what to say, his mouth hung open is disbelief.

“Look Neil, I need to borrow your computer, just to log on” he said

“What you want to surf the net? Now? Bloody hell you are wanted for murder and you want to surf the net?”

“Yep, something I need to do” “Ok but you have to go afterwards mate, I don’t want any trouble, I have a job a bird I’m not planning on getting locked up” Martin was fine with this, he could see where his friend was coming from at least he didn’t want to turn him in. He quickly sat at the computer and logged on to the Bargain Books site and typed in 2089Starbright into the search section, it opened an encrypted dialogue box

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"Spiders in the Curtains"
sub-title?
genre: fiction started: 1.10.08
mj12cz