August 2024: Bang – Cathryn deVries
Bang
Another day, another rescue. This time it was Carina Bedford, daughter of billionaire media tycoon Stephen Bedford. Obviously, things were very ‘hush, hush’. MI6 had isolated the location to a swanky lake house on the border. The insertion had gone like clockwork—body count one. Now it was just a matter of getting her out.
‘Pleasant evening, Miss Bedford?’ I asked as I untied her gag.
‘Just sterling,’ she answered, shaking out her blonde curls.
I untied her hands. They were soft and well-manicured. ‘I’d ask you to dance, but there isn’t the time,’ I said with a quirk of my lip.
She looked at me, guarded.
I smiled deeper. The tough ones were my favourites.
I pulled her to her feet and she wobbled a little, falling against my chest. Her neckline gaped. ‘So forward, Miss Bedford. I didn’t expect that of you.’ She straightened up, dusted herself off. ‘Enough. Just get me out of here.’
I smirked again. She was a banger.
My revolver was already armed, so I lifted it and took her hand. We were in the basement, semi-buried in the slope, and the outdoor entrance was unguarded—now.
‘Fancy an evening stroll? The moonlight’s charming.’
A flashlight bobbed along the grass, then fixed on the dead guard outside the door. I leaned around the frame and shot, the zip of my silencer no louder than the fellow’s fall to the ground. ‘We’ll have to make a run for it,’ I said, voice low.
She was surprisingly fast, and we made it to the bushes before the first shouts of alarm were heard. Spotlights blazed into life upon the roof, crisscrossing the lawn, sailing past us. ‘There’s a speedboat moored at the jetty.’
She nodded, fear in her eyes now. In the distance, the sound of dogs could be heard.
‘Now!’ I hissed.
A bullet whizzed past and I turned; fired my revolver. There was a grunt of pain as a black-clad figure fell to the ground, but the dogs were getting louder.
More bullets slammed into the trees we passed, and exploded clods of grass.
Then our feet clattered along the jetty’s planks. We clambered into the speedboat.
Bullets hit the water and hull as I fired up the engine.
Carina slipped the mooring line. I floored it.
Plumes of water sprayed either side as we sped forward. I turned sharply, and Carina bumped into me. She grasped at my arm and waist for balance. ‘Careful, I might get used to that.’
More zig-zagging, and Carina adjusted her grip. The sound of bullets hitting the water became fainter, and she released me.
‘Well, Miss Bedford,’ I said with a smirk, ‘it might be time for a lie down after all that excitement.’
I glanced over my shoulder. A different face glared at me. She had my revolver in her hand, pointing it at my forehead. In her other hand, a latex mask dangled.
‘Sorry, James. Your womanising days are over,’ she sneered.
Bang.
Cathryn deVries
Right Left Write’s August prompt was Action/Adventure.
Find out more about Right Left Write at www.queenslandwriters.org.au/rightleftwrite.
The competition’s September genre prompt is Fantasy.
Right Left Write’s August prompt was Action/Adventure.