Cheap Thrills (6 Thrilling reads) (20 page)

Seventeen

London, England

Steven slows down at the intersection leading out of London. He cranes his neck to try and see the state of the traffic on the road. It’s near empty which is good considering the panic that surly lies ahead. He had made it clear in his mind that getting out of London as quickly as possible was the safest and surest way of surviving. The majority of the country may not know what is coming but Steven does. He knows what lies ahead; he’s seen it with his very own eyes. He can’t be too sure what exactly is going to happen but he does know it’s bad, hence why he is all packed up with suitcases and supplies en route to a new life somewhere off the coast of England. He stares back down at the road and beeps his horn. A few lax cars lie in front slowing the flow of the traffic. To his Wife, he seems impatient, and that wouldn’t be too far from the truth. In no time of Steven’s life has he been as impatient as he feels now. Today is go time and he has been preparing for something like this for a while. Not only is Steven a world class PI, he is also a Prepper.

He prepares for the worst and has done so ever since he can remember. He didn’t need the events of 9/11 to spur him onto a contingency plan; he just needed to look at the history of the human race. World War 2 was the one that did it for him. Millions of Jews were not prepared for what lay ahead for them, and look what happened to them. Steven doesn’t want to be unprepared. He doesn’t want to be killed or captured. He wants to survive and that’s why he is on the M5 racing out of London.

‘Not so fast Steven, you’ll get us pulled over,’ his Wife Sharron says while looking at her reflection on the overhead mirror on the sun flap in the front. She clicks the visor back in place and gives her husband a candid smile. ‘Are you even listening to me?’ she says

‘Yes, but I’m concentrating on the road,’ he says, gripping the steering wheel as if his life depended on it, which in these times it
literally does
.

‘Well you should be concentrating on your speed, at this rate we will get pulled over,’ she says again, feeling like a broken record as she puts blusher on her face.

Steven looks at her and wonders something.

‘Why the hell are you putting makeup on?’ he asks

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Because you don’t need it,’ he says bluntly

‘Why thank you!’ she says

‘I didn’t mean it as a compliment. I mean you don’t need that stupid shit right now. How fucking brain dead can you be? Do you not understand the importance of this present moment in time? You do realise that this could be the last fucking day either of us spends on this planet and you’re making sure you look done up for the occasion?’

‘What’s wrong with you Steven? You’ve been a real arsehole today,’ she says

‘What’s wrong with me?’ screams Steven as he pushes down hard on the brakes and stops the car dead in the middle of the road.

‘Are you serious?’ she says

‘Yes I fucking am, now give me that!’ he says while grabbing her make up. He unwinds the window and throws the makeup box onto the road past the speeding traffic. A sea of beeping can be heard from behind them as a backlog of traffic forms.

‘Get your head in the game Sharron. I won’t put up with you if you don’t take this seriously!’ he says

Suddenly police sirens can be heard from behind them. Steven looks into his rear view mirror and spots a police cruiser turning up towards them.

‘You better take that seriously Steven,’ Says his wife, smiling at her annoyed husband.

‘Oh I will,’ says Steven.

Eighteen

President Harriet remains in the Oval office sipping on coffee and feeling sorry for himself.  He’s looking at a picture of his daughter taken when she was younger. It stands tall and proud in a silver tinted rim with golden nuggets on the frame. The picture was taken on one of his congress meetings a while back when he was Governor of Washington, long before the days people called him President. He remembers the trip fondly. It was a day of joy and celebration, not only was he making waves in the political game, but his daughter had just turned thirteen. She was becoming a big girl, and he wanted her to appreciate something adult-like and grown up. She wasn’t the type of girl to like playing outside with a hula-hoop, she was the type of girl to find solace in books and enjoyed watching the news. That’s the entire reason President Harriet took his daughter with him that day, he wanted to make her dreams come true and make her feel like the big girl he knew she was. He remembers when she saw the congress meeting room for the first time. It was decked out with plenty of plush furnishings and the usual American flags draped around every corner of the room. It made his daughter proud when she saw where her dad worked and what he did. It became a tradition long after that day to have her with him where ever he went. He had her home-schooled for three days of the week, and the other days she spent with him, trotting around the country doing stately things. He remembers when she told him she believed he would be President one day. It brings a tear to his eye as he continues to stare at the photo in his hand. A few moist drops run down his leather like skin and down his cheek, they trickle off his face and land on the photo frame in his hand.

‘I’ve let you down dear,’ he says while embracing the photo as if it was his daughter herself in living colour.

‘I miss you.’ He says

Suddenly a knock at the door forces him to pull himself together.

‘Come in,’ he says unevenly, trying to shake the emotion out of his voice

A Whitehouse advisor comes through the door and immediately realises he interrupted the president at an inopportune time.

‘I’m sorry to bother you sir, it’s just we have a situation,’ says the man

The president doesn’t bother to hide his emotions. He rubs his eyes red raw and then looks up at the tall yuppie like man standing in front of his desk.

‘Forgive me young man, it’s just being a president sucks sometimes,’ He says

The Whitehouse advisor smiles and looks at the President’s big oak desk. He extends his arm forward and grabs a silk handkerchief draped on the desk. It has the Whitehouse emblem and insignia on it. He gracefully hands it over to the near blubbering Commander in Chief.

‘Thank you,’ he says, whipping his tears away, ‘the situation?’ asks the president bluntly, getting back to business as quickly as possible.

‘Well sir, this isn’t good news at all. The covert army have just hit our Virginia missile silo and stolen two nuclear warheads. An A12 and an A19,’ says the advisor.

‘How did this happen?’

‘Well, they overran us sir,’

‘I get that part, but how did they manage to walk out with two missiles? The place is guarded by five hundred infantry and over one thousand on site personal who are trained in firearms’

‘They came at us with jets and then cleaned up with ground units’

The president’s expression deepens

‘They have jets?’

The advisor nods his head.

‘They have an army sir’

Nineteen

‘So you’re saying he just up and vanished like a fart in the wind?’ asks Deshaun as he leans against his SUV’s matted black hood.

‘I’m not saying anything of the sort. I just can’t seem to put my finger on where he is,’ says Peter as he joins Deshaun in leaning against his car.

Deshaun gives Peter a questionable look.

‘Do you mind? I just had this waxed,’ he says

‘Oh, so it’s okay for you to lean against it, but not me?’

‘Pretty much,’ Deshaun says as he grins at his bodyguard turned special investigator turned lover!

Both men remain quiet for a while as they stare at the house they are investigating. It’s the second house they have visited that day. Along with the mansion, the current house they are investigating is a lot less glamorous. It didn’t take long to realise no one was home.

‘So he’s not here?’ says Deshaun, more of a statement than anything else.

‘Correctamudno,’ says Peter.

‘Where else could he be then?’ asks Deshaun who results to leaning against his car once again.

‘Fuck knows’

‘Well that’s helpful,’ says Deshaun.

‘Thank you, I do try my best’

‘Well I wouldn’t be hiding in a house either if I was him,’ says Deshaun

‘Where would you hide then?’

‘Underground most likely. Probably in a bunker…Maybe in a ,’ before Deshaun can finish what he is about to say Peter slaps him on the shoulder hard.

‘You’re a fucking genius man! A genius!’ he says

‘What?’ asks Deshaun

‘A bunker! That’s where he is! Duh! Why didn’t I think of that? The government had me install a bunker in central park that only the Mayor has access to. We built a tunnel from the Mayor’s office to the bunker. It’s like a mile underground. I don’t know why they wanted a bunker built, but apparently all important people in office get one because of how volatile the climate has been for the past ten to fifteen years,’ says Peter

‘How the hell could you forget that?’

‘Excitement I guess’

‘Excitement about what exactly?’

‘Screwing a hottie like you!’

Deshaun blushes.

‘Let’s get to the bunker then,’ says Deshaun

‘Ladies first,’ says Peter

Twenty

‘The A12 and A19’s are prepped and ready for launch. When do you want us to fire them sir?’ asks the man in front of Mr Conway’s desk. He twiddles his thumbs and looks a tad nervous in the presence of his boss. Mr Conway is feeding his fish; he chucks in a handful of sprinkles and shuts the hatch of the tank. He then turns around and looks at his new replacement for Miss Harriet. He isn’t impressed. He would much rather prefer a replacement that he can sleep with. Mr Conway isn’t into men but he can still make men feel uncomfortable. It’s a role that he plays very well, the role of the big bad boss. He cracks a smile at the new replacement.

‘What’s your name son?’ he asks, sitting down in his leather chair.

‘Smith sir,’ he says

‘Mr Smith?’ says Mr Conway

‘I guess,’ says Smith

‘Good, nice to meet you Mr Smith. You know why you’re here right?’

‘Yes, you need a new advisor’

‘Do you know why I need a new advisor?’

Smith shakes his head.

‘Because my last one is a
little tied up at the moment
. She won’t be advising me any time in the future, nor will she breathing in the next couple of hours. The thing is I take my job seriously, and when I have people who work for me go behind my back and disrupt the flow of business then something has to be done. Are you the type of man to go behind my back and disrupt the flow of business Mr Smith?’

‘No sir,’ he says, looking even more nervous than before.

‘And you can give me your word?’

‘Yes,’ says Smith

‘Good. Now about the A12 and A19. I want you to tell the guys down the silo to set the nuke’s up and put them on a twelve hour timer. I will fax them the coordinates, but I don’t think you need to be a rocket scientist to work out where we are firing these things at’

‘No sir, you don’t’

‘Do you have any idea where these rockets are heading?’

‘Um, Washington?’ says the Advisor

‘Good. At least you are brighter than you look. Now get going. We only have twelve hours to get this thing started
and finished
. I’m getting pretty tired of waiting around,’ says Mr Conway.

Twenty One

London, England

Steven’s car stops in the hard shoulder of the M5
              on the outskirts of the city. The skyline of the historical city can be seen nestling above the trees. The gravel and lose dirt on the tarmac squelches under Steven’s wheel as he pulls on the handbrake and looks into his rear view mirror. He can see the Metropolitan police officer approach his car. He’s wearing a hi-viz jacket over his stab proof vest and he is sporting a new school policeman’s hat. He can also see that the policeman has a Taser holstered onto his belt. It makes Steven nervous. His wife looks on as Steven’s face grows paler with every passing second until all that’s visible is his pounding pulse in his neck and the sweat that is dripping down his face. The policeman reaches the driver’s window and taps on it with his knuckles. The sound pops through the car and makes Steven feel stiff and uneasy. He hits the electric window button and the window glides down smoothly. The sound of the motorway penetrates through the opening as the wind ripples through Steven’s clothes. His wife smiles at the policeman, who gives her a courteous smile back. His attentions go back to Steven as he gives the car a nose around and spots the mass of suitcases protruding through the backseats.

‘Going somewhere in a hurry?’ asks the policeman.

‘No not really. Just getting out of the city,’ says Steven

‘Why the hurry then sir?’

‘There is no hurry, just going about my business, that’s all. Why have you stopped me?’ asks Steven who shifts his eyes down to the compartment attached to the driver’s door where he usually keeps things like a map and a wrench. He then shifts his eyes back to the officer.

‘You were speeding sir. This motorway, like all motorways in England, has a speed limit of seventy miles an hour. You were going a hundred and ten. Now usually a little leeway is given, but I can’t really give any leeway to someone going over a ton. Now if you wouldn’t mind, could you please step out of the car and into the back of mine so we can have a little chat?’

Steven isn’t interested in procedure or talking to cops.

‘Why can’t we just talk here?’ he asks

‘Because I’m standing on a busy road. It would be safer for me to talk to you in the back of my car,’ he says

‘Well, that’s just too bad. I’m staying in my car. If you don’t like it, then you can come in the back of my car and we can chat there. If not, could you please just issue me a fine or whatever so I can be on my way?’

‘Sorry Sir, I’m afraid you
HAVE
to step out of the car,’ says the policeman.

‘Do I now? Oh,
am I under arrest
?’

‘No, but…’

‘But nothing. I don’t have to do shit for you. If you want a safer work environment, I suggest you rethink your career as a traffic officer,’ he says

‘So you’re not going to step out of the car?’ asks the Police man

‘Just do as he says Steven,’ his wife says

Steven turns to his wife and raises his hand, pointing his finger straight at her face, inches away from her. He can feel her warm breath against his finger.

‘You shut up! This isn’t of your concern!’ he says bashfully.

The policeman’s expression changes.

‘Calm down sir,’ he says

‘Calm down? Calm fucking down? Are you stupid or something? Just do your fucking job and let me get on with my life!’

‘Don’t talk to me like that sir,’ says the policeman

‘Or what?’

‘Or I’ll arrest you,’ he says

Steven reaches down into the compartment where he puts his map and pulls an object out. He raises it in the direction of the officer who is leaning into his car. The officer’s expression changes and fear washes all over the man’s face.

‘Sir, don’t do anything stupid,’ says the officer at the sight of the firearm.

Steven fires it at point blank range. His wife screams. Cars screech as the officer’s body hits the road and oncoming traffic tries to miss the corpse. Steven puts the gun back where it came from and speeds off .