Decker sat there like a rabbit caught in the mesmerising
gaze of vehicles headlights. Stiff, unable to move. His mind overloaded him
with emotions and thoughts, he imagined his head being opened up and
splattering the ceiling in watery blood and skull fragments. Decker clenched
his teeth and braced for the flash and stinging bullet to penetrate his skull
as the gun was taken back from his neck.
He could feel the tingling warm blood rush back into the
small white circle left on the back of his neck by the gun barrel. All Decker
was saying was "Shit...Shit...SHIT!" repeatedly in his head. The reality of his
situation had hit him square in the face. He was going to die, unless he acted
now.
"Ahh...You're finally awake old man...SURPRISE!" Decker's body
relaxed as his brain recognised the voice it was Wayne Young. Decker fell off
his chair like a scarecrow that had been removed from its post he looked up at
his two grinning colleagues. Young stood by the bed gun still in hand and Erin
sniggered to herself in his shadow.
"Very funny" Decker scowled he was panting still from
holding his breath.
"Oh come on Decks, you gotta admit the look on your face
was classic, and jeez... I am sure you shit your load, gramps." Young said
cockily, Decker suddenly felt the anger well up inside him.
"How the fuck can you play games at times like this you
fucking idiot? For all you know Majestic Twelve could be outside ready to burst
in and you here playing childish pranks! Go shut the door and get ready!"
"Calm down! We weren't followed! Anyway what use would
you be, dribbling over the keyboard?" Young snapped back. Decker rose to his
feet, eyes bulging with rage, frown marks appearing on his wrinkled forehead,
nose scrunched up curling his upper lip. Erin automatically went between them
and separated to two enraged men.
The computer's speakers made a rapid bleeping noise and
the screen flashed furiously. One reply. Decker turned and rushed back to the
computer picking up the fallen chair. He knelt down and used the touch pad and
selected the replied e-mail.
From: 328.2133.1230
To: Public Terminal 11A//NYNET.44567.22356
Subject: Re: Need Passage
Date: Sun, 24 Nov 2052 02:37:38 +0100
Decker,
Please accept my apologies on the delay, but as you know
"special cases" takes time and planning. I have managed to persuade a transit
driver to smuggle you in his lorry to Europe, he is delivering a shipment of
tobacco to Italy and will be landing in Nantes and working his way down to
Lyon. I am aware of the current situation in France, martial law, maybe you
could align yourself and your friends with Silhouette. This would mean going to
Paris.
I am currently in business with an arms dealer, who
provides armaments to the Silhouette rebel group, he lives in the suburb of
Marais, in France the suburbs are called "quartiers" or something, it is just
East Of the Louvre. Ask around for a man known as, Jacques Adélie, also known
as Le Corbeau on the streets of Paris, he can supply you with a wide range of
arms.
The driver who will taking you to Europe will be waiting
tomorrow night (Monday 25th November) at the docks at 2300 hours
(11pm) his name is Harvey Franklin. Do not be late.
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