A Date with The Devil Pt. 04 - Final

'Time for some nosh,' said the rougher voice.

'We're supposed to stay right here. In fact right now you're supposed to be watching the CCTV.'

'Banks has them two birds cornered. They ain't gonna get past him, are they? And I had a quiet word with a chef in that tent. He's saving us burgers and steaks.'

Heather quickly pulled her head back and pressed tight against the wall. She had nowhere to run to; all she could do was hope they didn't look her way and get ready to fight if they did.

Fortunately geography helped her. The direct approach to the barbeque involved an angle away from the house and across a well-trimmed lawn. She waited until they were past her before sliding around the corner of the building, using it as a natural screen.

Please, please, please, her mind reiterated as she approached the doorstep which had recently been used as a bench, please be unlocked.

Thank heavens the door was unlocked. She quickly went inside and closed it behind her, turning the key as an afterthought.

Keep those two bastards out for an extra minute or so. That was the ticket.

Conscious she still had to deal with "Banks" she stealthily made her way along a well-lit corridor that intersected with another, wider corridor. Mare had to be in a room on the left so that was the way she went, more stealthily than ever.

The bloke guarding Mare's door (presumably Banks) was a one-man horror show. Compared to him Herman Munster looked like Clark Gable. And he was big with it; unnaturally big. There again, bigger ones fell harder, didn't they?

While Heather was psyching herself up for an assault (sadly without SAS backing) the doorbell rang. For a moment Banks looked alarmed but, after a last glance at the closed interior door, he lumbered off towards the front of the house.

Heather was in through the door like a bat out of hell. 'Frame your ass,' she hissed urgently, 'we need to get out of here right now.'

'Lindsey's coming too,' Mare whispered back, indicating her companion.

'Okay, no worries. But how many exits are they? I came in the back and don't want to leave that way. It might be surrounded by angry thugs by now. And Banks is at the front door, answering it.'

'There's a door out of the kitchen,' Lindsey volunteered unexpectedly. 'We could use that.'

'Brilliant,' said Heather, 'let's go, go, go!'

But it was not to be. They left the drawing room only to be confronted by Banks and two swarthy men, quite possibly Italians.'

*****

Leo was uncomfortable and couldn't think why. The barbeque was going swimmingly; he had a night of debauchery ahead of him and his disciples really were convinced of his powers. Yet still he was not easy within himself. He felt as if he was on a high ledge and could fall either way; to safety or oblivion.

Even the Beretta in his inside jacket pocket could not cure him. Normally its very presence made him king of the world . . . gave him a hard-on, even. Tonight he couldn't remember why he had got it out of its safe. And its presence was not doing anything for him.

Still the unease persisted.

Feelings like that could not be ignored. Ditching a conversation mid-sentence, instantly forgetting that particular neighbour's astounding chest, he moved through the marquee's main entrance and sniffed the air.

Something was wrong.

But what could it be?

Chapter Thirty-seven

'Caught in the act,' the less urbane of the two Italians began, wagging a chiding finger at Heather.

Heather snarled at him but he only laughed, underestimating her the way men almost always did.

'Mary Rose is my property,' he went on. 'Or should I say chattel? That's the old English word for it, is it not? One last night of carnal pleasure for her then transferred into my so very caring clutches. I guess that catching you makes you my chattel as well.'

'I guess you ought to guess again,' Heather replied.

The Italian laughed then introduced himself. 'I am Nino. You'd best get used to the name because you will soon be whispering it into my ear. And then, after you become addicted . . . meaning addicted in a few interesting ways . . . I'll rent you out to many of my Arab friends. They'll like you beyond adoration and I'll make lots of dosh. And you will do anything they ask; you'll be dependent on me, no?'

'Addicted,' queried Heather, 'you're planning on giving us Leo's happy juice, are you?'

'Me give you Leo's expensive happy juice?' Nino laughed yet again. 'Bog standard heroin with do for you. A week and you'll lick the floor for me, begging for more.'

'I have to warn you,' Heather said steadily, 'I have more black belts than I can remember. More to the point, I specialize in attack, not defence. You should do the sensible thing and step aside. That way nobody will get hurt.'

'Step aside?' Nino's laugher was louder, raucous, even. 'You're fucked lady, in every which way.'

Enough was enough. Heather took a step towards the cocky so-and-so, feinted a punch by dropping her right shoulder . . .

And then she exploded her left foot very violently into Nino's groin. He doubled up in agony and she pounced, smashing her hand onto his exposed neck. But, angry as she was, she did so considerately. An open karate chop might well have killed him. By closing her fist she merely put him out like a light.

'Move aside,' she said to the two remaining opponents. 'I'm starting to lose my temper and I might not be so gentle from now on.'

Something had appeared in the second Italian's hand. Heather recognized it as a blackjack, probably loaded with lead.

'Try it on with me and I'll break your legs,' she cautioned, not at all afraid.

Then Mary Rose upset the odds. Apparently she'd been fuming a while and had reached the point of self-combustion.

'You sold me, Bruno,' she roared, launching herself at the guy. 'I'll fucking show you . . .'

Bruno grabbed her mid-flight, twisting her arm behind her back and raising his sap. 'I can concuss her with this,' he told Heather. 'I can cause brain damage and very possibly kill her. And you are her mate from school, aren't you? You're Heather, her one true love, the girl she talks about endlessly. The last thing you want to do is be the cause of her immobility or death, isn't it?'

Heather froze. The bastard had it all worked out. More relevantly, he had Mare at his mercy.

And the bastard knew it.

'Take control of her, Banks,' he instructed, 'she won't resist. She's got too much to lose.'

Banks edged forward, clearly concerned for the safety of his testicles. Heather shifted position to keep him at bay, her head swirling. Fight or flee were the obvious options. But either could get Mare killed or damaged beyond repair. And, try as she might, a clever, game-changer of a masterstroke wouldn't occur to her.

Eventually, on the verge of submission and utter defeat, a whooshing roar almost shocked her out of her socks (the ones she wasn't even wearing).

Suddenly Banks was reeling back, away from her, clawing at his eyes and screaming . . .

And it was all thanks to Lindsey. Ignored or at best discounted, the girl had snatched a wall-mounted fire extinguisher and emptied it into Banks's face. She'd timed it perfectly, too. Heather's shifting had brought her level with Bruno. Reacting quickest . . . as per always . . . she smashed her left elbow into the bastard's head, catching him square on the temple.

Half-stunned and totally riled, he let go the squirming Mary Rose and took a swing at Heather.

Big mistake! Ready and waiting for him, Heather deftly evaded the deadly blackjack, snatching hold of Bruno's fully extended arm and, with no mercy at all, crashing down her ruthless left elbow onto it.

Bruno's arm snapped . . . or at least dislocated midway up . . . and his scream dwarfed Banks's. Then he was on his knees. Showing no spirit of fair play at all . . . only too conscious of the fate these men had had in store for her, Mare and women in general . . . Heather kicked him in the face . . . hard.

That kick stopped his squawking but his eyes were still open. So she kicked him again and that was it.

Goodnight Irene.

'Okay,' she said, surprising herself with her calmness, 'Stuff the kitchen, let's go out the front.'

'There's CCTV,' Lindsey objected, 'Hall monitors it.'

'How many others are in here?' asked Heather.

'Two big guys: Hall and McGinley.'

'Big guys like bouncers in a club you wouldn't want to go into?'

'Yeah, you've got it.'

'And there's nobody else?'

'No, they're plenty enough.'

'They're both locked out at the back; might not even have realized it yet. Come on you two, we girls are going out front.'

Heather hesitated a second then held out a clenched fist to Lindsey. 'Respect, 'she said.

Lindsey duly bumped it. Suddenly she looked totally alert and ready for anything. 'Respect,' she said, 'and pretty please, let me write this up as a one-off exclusive.'

*****

Leaving the three hard men behind . . . two unconscious, the other at least temporarily blinded . . . the three girls approached the front door.

'What if Hall and McGinley are lying in wait?' Mary Rose wondered.

'Then I'll give them a kicking,' said Heather. 'But I bet they're not. Last I heard they were sneaking off to bag freebie burgers. Way I see it we have fifty yards of driveway and we're home free. Can we run fifty in six or seven seconds?'

'You know I can,' said Mary Rose.

Lindsey shrugged. 'I ran the hundred in the World Student Games,' she said. 'But I only got silver.'

Heather did a double-take. 'You have a World silver medal!'

'Yes I do. Appearances can be deceptive.'

'Are you still up for it, with your bump and all?'

'Open that door and eat my dust.' Lindsey suddenly laughed. 'Stuff the dust; let's go on the grass. It'll be faster than all that gravel.'

Heather nodded. The girl wasn't only coming round, she was dead right. 'Let me make a call and out we go . . . on the grass to the right, away from the barbeque. Last one to the gate's a wimp.'

Dialling the number she got Nina on the first ring. 'We're coming out imminently,' she said. 'There will be three of us, and any time in the next ten seconds will be fine.'

Nina's car engine roared in response. 'Get moving babe and we'll be there,' she said.

*****

The front door was like a castle's but opening it from inside was easy-peasy. And lingering in range of CCTV was not a considered option. The three of them instantly took off faster than Usain Bolt (in their dreams, anyway) and streaked towards the main gates.

'Hey,' Leo called from over by the big tent, setting off in pursuit, 'stop!'

As if!!

Running ever faster, Heather heard Leo redirect his shouts. Instead of demanding a halt he yelled for the man in the lodge to close the automatic gates. But he was already too late. The gates were only maybe halfway shut when the three escapees burst though, out into the wide avenue and freedom.

Better yet, Nina was there waiting for them and, as the gates finally clanged shut, Leo was stopped in his tracks, cut off by his own hired help.

'Come back he yelled after them as Mare and Lindsey piled into the Audi. Unable to resist it, Heather bent her trusty left arm and gave him the finger.

'Go swivel,' she shouted back with a grin.

Two seconds later she was in the back seat and they were flying further into freedom, leaving a track of scorched rubber behind them.

Chapter Thirty-eight

'Where are we going?' Nina asked, dropping her Lewis Hamilton impression in favour of Miss Careful Driver of the Year.

'Somewhere with a bar,' said Lindsey, her rapid recovery still ongoing.

'Not my place,' Mary Rose countered. 'Bruno knows it only too well. And he will be like a bear with a sore head when he comes round. My place will be the first he checks out.'

Heather groaned. Would this ever end? Would she ever be able to ride off into the sunset, headed up to God's Own County?

'Do you reckon Bruno will hold a grudge?' asked Lindsey.

'You bet I do,' said Mary Rose. 'I bet the others will do too.'

'Then let's report the lot of them to the police for kidnap and the illegal disposal of a body.'

That led to a debate. Mare wasn't so sure. It would be very much one's word against another's and if nothing else, they couldn't rely on forensics as regarded the body. After all, they didn't know how the body had been transported or if any vehicle involved still existed.

They didn't really know whodunit, come to that.

And, as for the damage to their reputations if the case ever went to before a judge! The papers would be featuring the revelations every day for months.

PRIVATE SCHOOL FRIENDS ADMIT SATANIC ORGIES.

SORDID SEX AND SATANISM GAMES ARE RIFE IN HIGH SOCIETY.

Well, they get that from the broadsheets, if they were lucky. But some of the tabloids would be taking on new staff to come up with catchy, playful and ultimately damning headlines.

Meanwhile, unbeknown to the five girls in the Audi, their dilemma was in the process of disappearing once and for all.

*****

Leo couldn't remember ever being so angry in his life. Leaving the closed gates he stomped his way to the lodge and gave the guy in there a mouthful.

Edwin, who had worked for Leo for years, could only take so much. 'The gates were left open on your express instructions,' he said as soon as he could get a word in. 'It was to allow your guests to come and go as they pleased. And I've been asking for a faster system for ages. Sorry sir, but I can't accept the blame.'

Leo could have strangled him but supposed he did have a point. Edwin hadn't let the girls escape; it had been those useless bastards in the house. Three grown men and they were unable of guarding two young lasses.

No, three young lasses, although fuck knew where the third one had sprung from.

Cocky cunt as she was, fingering him like that!

Screw it and forget Edwin. It was time to get in there and kick some ass.

Completely ignoring the barbeque . . . which was still ongoing, the pre-recorded music now getting louder than ever . . . Leo made his way to the front door, finding it unlocked. Yes, freaking unlocked! Something inside him, some last vestige of control, as good as snapped. How basic a mistake could anyone make!

Inside he headed straight for the west drawing room, finding a war zone in the area outside. Banks was sitting on the steps leading upstairs, an enormous, old-fashioned handkerchief held to his eyes but not preventing floods of tears running down his cheeks. 'I'm blinded,' he kept saying. 'I'm blinded and it's not getting any better.'

Surprisingly, Bruno and Nino were also there. They hadn't been due for another hour or more; cue another two black marks on the rapidly growing list. They shouldn't have come so soon and Banks should never have let them in. Could things possibly get worse?

At least the two Sicilians were suffering. Bruno was lying face-down on the floor, moaning and with a spectacularly broken arm. Nino was perched on his ass five yards away from his buddy, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly feeling sorry for himself. Leo addressed him because he seemed unlikely to get any sense out of the other two wasters.

'What are you doing here so early?' he snapped.

'Bruno wanted to properly introduce me to his girlfriend. It was meant to be a before and after thing, if you know what I mean. Meet the nice me first and all that.'

'Touching her up in advance, you mean?'

'Well yeah . . . maybe.'

'For fuck's sake, you've ruined everything!'

'Hang on a mo, it wasn't our fault. They were already on the way out. We tried to stop them.'

Not their fault? Leo tended to disagree. 'So what the fuck happened?' he grated.

'Our two were on their way out when we got here. They were with this girl I'd never seen before. If our friend Bruno was right, she was Mary Rose's lezzie friend from school.'

'Bruno,' Leo prompted, but to no avail. The useless twat was lost in his own world of misery.

'And this lezzie friend beat all three of you up?' he asked Nino.

'Looks like it. I got clobbered first and missed the rest.'

'A slip of a girl clobbered you? What a fucking wanker.'

'You should have seen her fight. And she wasn't a slip of a girl; she was an Amazonian warrior queen. I think you'd better stop slagging me off and ask yourself how she got her sexy ass in here in the first place; that's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn't it?'

Leo nodded. 'Where are Hall and McGinley?'

'Beats me; I haven't seen hide nor hair of them. And they certainly didn't come running to the rescue. If you ask me they've found something better to do, and don't even know there's a flap on.'

The strong possibility that was true was the final straw. Leo's control evaporated altogether. Tonight Hall and McGinley were supposed to be alternating roles, one manning the CCTV monitors while the other patrolled the corridors, checking windows and doors. Obviously they hadn't excelled and never mind that, where the fuck were they?

A quick check in the monitoring room failed to find them and they certainly weren't patrolling. Knowing they liked to smoke outside at the back of the house he headed there, getting madder and madder as he went. Fucking useless bastards! If they were out there, tossing it off, he'd kill them. Yes, he would kill them then dance on their graves.

To his surprise the back door was locked with the key on the inside. He unlocked it and scoured the immediate surroundings; fresh cig ends in the strategically placed steel box but no muscle. Way he saw it, as they weren't indoors they had to be out here . . . But where, precisely?

Acting on impulse, he walked along the rear of the building and around the corner. The barbeque tent was clearly visible, illuminated inside and out. And weren't two of those three figures lurking out there round the service entrance rather familiar?

Leo saw what had happened in a flash of inspiration and really did lose it. The bastards had gone off in search of free food and drink, and they'd left the door open behind them. Miss Amazonian Queen must have strolled in unchallenged and unopposed.

Pacing diagonally across the lawn Leo remembered his gun. Why hadn't he remembered the fucking thing when that bitch was giving him the finger? Blowing her pretty head off would have put her well in her place.

His fury still rising exponentially, he stopped two yards short of the three men, noting that they were all drinking from wine bottles . . . bottles that were now as good as empty. They hadn't just been here two minutes, they'd been here a good while. As unneeded confirmation, the three were surrounded by a sea of discarded paper plates, most of them empty but greasy, some littered with chicken bones.

Seeing and hearing them there, joking and laughing, tipped Leo off his high ledge and into oblivion.

He drew his Beretta and coughed harshly to draw their attention. 'Fucking useless cunts,' he growled as they looked round in alarm.

His first two shots took out McGinley; one to the chest, the other in his throat. McGinley flew backward with blood fountaining from his neck. Crashing into the tent's canvas side he rebounded, ending up in an untidy heap on the grass.

'No,' said Hall as the weapon moved in his direction, holding his hands out in a futile attempt to block what was coming his way. Two more shots ensued. The first went straight through his right palm and into his heart. The second was aimed higher; it smashed into his already dead mouth, sending him backwards and down, close to his motionless buddy.

The third man was in chef's whites. He was shaking his head in disbelief and begging for his life. Leo took him out with a single bullet to his right eye.

'That's shown the bastards,' Leo muttered, before frowning and wondering what happened next.