The Glocks were in the smaller package, also used, but in good condition. The ballistic vest was top of the range. I was touched by Fergus' thoughtfulness. I would test all the firearms after I'd eaten. As I ate my supper and watched Marks wide eyes drift over the weapons laid out on the table, I wondered what progress Fergus was making.
Rebecca
My arms were really aching by the time the van finally lurched to a standstill. And I needed to pee.
It was dark outside, but as the guy with the gruff voice grabbed my left arm and lifted me out of my huddled position in the back of the van, I was able to make out some kind of artificial light source coming from somewhere nearby. A building, maybe. I was flung unceremoniously over the gruff man's shoulder, compressing my already uncomfortably distended bladder. I concentrated for a few seconds on trying to control the urge to pee, and then I gave up and peed all over my kidnapper. Serve him right. He swore and I giggled. He swore some more.
It was strange, really. A part of me was afraid, but I was also enjoying the anger that pulsed through me. I wondered if Angus felt like this all the time. Just thinking of him made my heart leap. I had spent a lot of time thinking in that grubby van. And what I had been thinking about most was Angus, and the way he looked and felt and smelled. It struck me after a while that the thought of never seeing my mother or Mark or Joe again saddened me. But the thought of never seeing Angus again wrenched my soul. I suppose it was time to admit that I was insanely in love with him. Rubbish timing, obviously, but I couldn't help that.
I looked around as best I could while I was being carried. His hip got in the way, but I was able to make out a large building. It looked like some sort of institution, like a hospital maybe, or a home for the elderly. There was a ramp for wheelchairs leading up to the front door. Weird place to take a kidnap victim.
My captor turned before he reached the entrance and headed out towards the right side of the building. I squinted to see where he was heading. I could just make out what looked like an old stone barn. Great. Isolated and draughty. A much more suitable place to detain a prisoner.
The barn was lit by a solitary bulb that dangled from higher up in the recesses of the barn roof. There were sacks of compost stacked against one wall, and a row of rusting gardening implements along another. Gruff man stopped suddenly, and I saw his companion struggling with a large trapdoor in the floor. It had been cunningly hidden under a few empty bags and some dirt. He lifted the trapdoor, revealing old stone stairs leading downwards. A torch flickered into life in his hand and they both started down those stairs, reluctantly but inevitably accompanied by me.