Authors: Jack Parker
Hope To Escape (24 page)
"I didn't see anything on the cameras. Go check out the west side of the property. That's where the dogs headed."
"Are you kidding? I just got my cup of coffee." The junior guy did not sound very pleased about his latest orders.
"Are you a lazy ass or do you just want to be unemployed? No, I'm not kidding. Go check on the commotion with the dogs. If they haven't come back by now, there may be something out there." The man let out a grumble of annoyance. He didn't appreciate being left behind with the inept 'newbie' when all the other guards were ordered out to find Max and his companions.
The newbie stepped out of the guards' cottage mumbling his dissatisfaction with his job, and headed off towards the west side of the estate. In the newly enfolding darkness, he didn't see the four intruders who were hiding in the manicured shrubs that lined the small building.
"There's only two guards on duty right now." Martin explained after eavesdropping through the open window of the cottage. "I think we can knock the younger guy on the head when he comes back around and shoot the one that's inside."
Manda and Roden gave him a disbelieving openmouthed stare, while Max glared and punched him in the shoulder.
"You're sick," Manda said after she regained her speech. "Max, I'm glad you're the one with the gun."
"I didn't say we had to kill him." Martin replied, but still received no support. "Well, do you have a better idea, then? 'Cuz I'd love to hear it."
"Anything's better than killing someone. Jeez. We're trying to keep the crimes to a minimum here." Roden answered for Manda, who looked at him gratefully. She was getting tired of people asking her if she had '
a
better idea'.
They heard the phone ring through the window, and Max popped up to listen in.
"Good evening,
sir.
. . certainly. Would you like the Rolls or the Town Car? . . . The Maybach is with the mechanic, sir. . . I'm sorry, sir. It couldn't – . . . I'm so sorry, sir. . . Yes, sir. I'll bring the Town Car around at once." The guard jumped to his feet immediately and hung up the phone.
Max dunked back down into the bushes as the second man exited the building. After he passed them by, Max filled his fellow conspirators in on the situation. "Angoli's on his way out. I don't know if he's taking Ess along with him, or not."
The guard was radioing the new orders out to the newbie, but as he walked away from the cottage they couldn't make out the details.
Manda gasped. "What are we going to do? What if he's taking Ess away? We have to stop them now."
"We need to get rid of the obstacles." Martin tried to reason, but no one wanted to hear his suggestion again for taking care of the guards.
"The coffee." Manda suddenly had an idea. Finally, she could contribute something to the situation. "The other guard just poured himself a coffee."
"Yes?" Roden didn't know where she was going with this, but he urged her on.
"Let's slip him a roofie." The three men were surprised. Max gave her an impressed smile and pulled the bag out of his pocket.
"Great idea, Manda. I'll slip inside. Keep a lookout." Max rose from his crouched position, and slinked along the wall around the corner. The guard had not bothered to completely shut the door when he left, so Max pushed it open silently. With a quick glance around the office, he pinpointed the location of the steaming coffee that was on the desk near the open window. Reaching in the plastic bag, he took out a pill and deposited it into the mug. Then, he decided to add a second pill just for good measure.
"He's coming back." He heard Martin whisper on the other side of the window. Damn! Max looked for a quick hiding place. He opened
a
nearby door and discovered a second office, where he concealed himself.
He made out the sounds of the slamming door and footsteps moving over the wooden floor, and then the newbie could be heard grumbling about his dissatisfaction. "My third night on the job and everyone deserts me to take care of the whole damn place myself. Stupid employee benefits aren't worth this shit," he harrumphed, and sat back on his chair, picking up his coffee mug with a gesture that matched his anger. As he tested the liquid for its heat, the disgruntled man continued his complaints, "The man sends me out for a freakin' false alarm, then runs off to do the real work." Apparently, he found the coffee to be the right temperature, because he took a nice big gulp. "Coffee tastes like shit, too." He kept drinking it, though, so it couldn't have bothered him too much.
After a few minutes of waiting for the roofies to kick in, Max became anxious to catch up with the other guard who had gone to fetch a car for Angoli. After a little exploration of the office he was in, he discovered that he could unlock the single window that the room had to offer and crawl out of it. Making sure that he did this unseen, he began inching his was back to his companions.
The minutes were agonizing while the others waited to see if the roofie would take effect. Every now and then Martin would risk a peak into the window to check on Max's handiwork. Eventually, the man began to nod off. He fought against it, but could not overcome the sedation.
"Okay, he's down for the count," Martin finally determined.
"Now we practically have free reign of this place." Max adjoined, sneaking up behind them, and startling Manda half to death. Needless to say, she was not happy about that. "Only one guard to watch out for, and we know where he's headed. Martin, lead us to the garage. We need to intercept him before he brings the car around for Angoli."
In reply, Martin pointed towards the distant lights of an automobile as it pulled up to the front doors of the main house. "I think it's too late for that. It must have taken
longer
to sedate this guy than we thought. The car's already pulled around to the front." With that said, he began a crouched run across the yard towards the front doors. The pain in his ankle slowed his course and the others quickly overtook him, as they hid by the side of the house.
Their rush to the car competed with Angoli's own haste. He stood at the front steps of his colossal entryway with Ess clutched close to him as the Town Car stopped; and did not wait for the guard to come around to open the door for him. He shoved Ess unkindly into the car, and quickly entered inside himself, while the guard loaded the bags into the trunk.
Angoli's aggressive actions towards Ess displayed his obvious anger and frustration with the woman. She must have been giving him quite
a
challenge. Max would have been pleased to observe that she had stood up for herself, but at that moment he only felt the desperate need to detach Angoli's claws from the angel that was Ess, and to tear him limb from limb.
Max rose to make a dash towards the car, but Roden and Martin both anticipated him. They each grabbed an arm to hold him back. "You can't just run headlong towards the enemy. That guard has a gun, and Angoli is probably armed, too." Martin tried to reason in a harsh whisper.
"They are leaving, damn it." Max tried to persuade with his own reasoning. "If we don't stop them now, he'll take her god-only-knows-where."
Martin and Roden just looked at each other, neither knowing what to do next. "For god's sake, we have to stop them now." Max reached in his belt for the gun, and jumped from the bush that hid the intruders from view. This time, his companions were not fast enough to stop him.
It was too late, however. They had hesitated too long, and the car began to speed away. Max sprinted as fast as his legs could propel him to catch up with the vehicle, but it was a fool's exertion. Again, Ess slipped through his fingers. Again, he blamed himself . . . And again, he could have killed Martin.
* * *
"Sir, I think someone is following us?"
"What?" Angoli turned towards the rear window to see for himself. "Damn it. That looks like Max."
At that, Ess jumped in her seat and turned for a better look. Angoli pulled her ungraciously back into a forward facing position as they continued out of the drive. "Please buckle your seatbelt, my dear. I worry for your safety." His words were back to their condescending coolness. "John, how many men are on the property?"
"Just one, sir. The new guy." John the guard replied. "Owen and the others went back to the preserve per your orders."
"Call the 'new guy' and tell him to detain the intruder. Then, contact Owen and tell him to return with his men to the estate and take care of Max - and the others, too, if they're with him. We can't risk him getting any closer."
"Don't you dare!" Ess cried out. She wished she had been this gutsy earlier in the day.
"Dare what, my dear?" Angoli gave her
a
haughty glare. He couldn't overcome the fact that Ess actually tried to challenge him.
"Leave Max alone." Ess demanded, then attempted to reason. "He's your son."
John glanced back through the rear view mirror while waiting for the newbie to answer the phone, interested in the gossip from the back seat.
"I do not care what happens to Max. I see him only as an obstacle at this point. He just keeps getting in my way, and it's time to get him out from under my feet." The fine layer of calm became thinner and thinner as Angoli found himself needing to explain his intentions to this woman beside him. He'd never had to explain himself to anyone before, and he preferred to see Ess simply as a possession. As far as he was concerned, she needed a lot of breaking-in to make her into the woman of his dreams. She looked the part, but her tenacious attitude did not suit his wishes.
"Sir, I'm not getting an answer from headquarters. The new guy may be walking the property. I'll contact Owen immediately."
"Fine. Just get us to the airport quickly." A tinge of desperation made it to his voice, and Ess didn't miss it.
She sat with her arms crossed and looked at the headrest in front of her, feeling herself becoming even more disgusted with her captor as the moments passed. Her one consolation was that this man could not possibly drag her through the airport without causing a scene. She would not participate in his little charade. When they reached security, she fully intended to make her situation known.
The only thing she couldn't understand, though, was how this man could possibly think he'd be able to get her on a plane without drawing attention. A slight fear that he may have
a
way then rooted itself inside of her. Still, Ess knew she had to keep her guard up and continue to look for any prospect of escape. The drive to the airport had to be a long one from Angoli's estate, so she had ample time to think and to continue to amp herself up for the possibilities ahead.
Roden heaved his out-of-shape lungs, as he hurriedly made his way to a rather defeated looking Max. Max himself tried to catch his breath as he kneeled on the ground where he had collapsed from his effort to catch up with the car.
"Max," Roden rasped, "Max, come on now. You've got to get a hold of yourself." He slapped him on the back, while practically doubling over with the painful cramps that pierced his own sides.
In the distance, Martin limped up the drive. Manda moved ahead of him, after refusing to help him along. Max got himself up after a few very deep gulps of air, and let Roden lead him back towards the house. When they reached Manda, she posed the question that was on all of their minds, "What now?"
"Well," Max reasoned between breaths, "we need to follow them. We don't know where they are heading, so we can't let them get too far ahead."
"We need to go get the car." Roden felt a pang of excitement at the idea.
"Hold on, hold on," Martin exclaimed as he finally hobbled up to them. "It'll take too long to get back to Roden's car. We have access to some vehicles that are much closer." They gave him
a
wary appeal to continue. "Angoli has cars in the garage. The keys are hanging in the guards' cottage. It would get us going much faster, and the gas tanks are undoubtedly full."
True, Roden's car had very little gas left in it, and Angoli's cars were much closer, but Roden cringed at the thought of deserting his car where he had parked it. He already nearly lost it once, and to the same man who was telling him to leave it behind now. But, time was of the essence. They had to go at once.
"Fine, fine," Roden begrudgingly agreed, "let's go get the keys."
"You get the keys," Martin replied, "I'm going to run into the house and get some bandages, and maybe some ice. My leg hurts like a mother f - ".
"No way," Manda cut him off. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. You may have helped us get in here, but I still don't
trust
you as far as I could throw you. And believe me, right now I'd like to hurtle you into the closest obliging tree."
"Wow, Manda," Max remarked, impressed by her tenacity when it wasn't directed towards him. "Okay, you go into the house with Martin and help him bandage himself up while Mike and I get the keys from the cottage. I think I saw where they were hanging. We can bring the car around to the front and meet you there. Now hurry."
Manda refrained from using her signature eye roll at the thought of being stuck with Martin, but quickly followed him into the house. She certainly couldn't be less pleased with having to help such a loathsome man out, but was willing to put up with it to get back on track towards saving Ess.
Max and Roden, who had reasonably recovered from their prior exertion, jogged towards the guards' cottage, and peered inside. The newbie guard sat slumped in his chair, breathing heavily. Quietly, they entered the door, and Max made his way over to the key hooks. There was only one set of keys available, and it was labeled 'Rolls'.
"Damn. That's all we have? A Rolls Royce? That can't be good. Those suckers aren't very fast, are they?" Roden just shrugged at Max's question and grabbed the keys.
As they turned to leave, the guard stirred. "You back?" He yawned. "Couldn't find th-the, aah, the aah, the furry
.
. . aah. . . you know - dogs."
Roden exchanged an amused glance with Max. The man's announcement had worried them for a moment, but the roofie obviously held up its affects. Roden decided to try something. He whispered to Max, "This might be a good chance to find out where Angoli plans on taking Ess, just in case we can't
catch
up with them on the road. Then, we'll still have a trail."
The idea of not catching up with Angoli and Ess made Max pale. This might be their best opportunity of finding out – just in case. "Okay. Give it a try."
Roden nodded. "You couldn't find the dogs, huh?"
"Nope. Ran off . . . Dumb mutts."
"Well, did you hear me on the radio earlier, telling you where I was taking Mr. Angoli?"
The drugged man tried to look up at Roden as he spoke, but only managed to keep one eye open, and that eye didn't seem to really focus on anything. He appeared irritated that the person speaking to him had questioned his intelligence by asking such a thing. Of course he could remember! But when he answered, the words came out in one long incoherent slur.
Roden strained to understand the drugged man. The only word he comprehended sounded a lot like 'airport'. Airport?
"Ah, that's right. And did I tell you where they are flying to?" Roden probed him further.
The man felt no less annoyed at the new question, and Roden couldn't understand the grumbled reply. When he asked him to repeat his answer, the sedated guard did not oblige him with
a
response. The Rohypnol clearly made him hazy, as he drifted in and out of consciousness.
"Jeez, Max, how much did you give him?" Max shrugged and shook his head, a bit embarrassed to admit that he may have overdone it. Roden tried again. "Where was that again?"
The man answered this time, a little slower and more pronounced because he thought his questioner was the one lacking the intellectual capacity to understand. Roden repeated the syllables, and rolled them around on his tongue, trying to make sense of the man's riddle of slurs.
"Clearly, the man's incoherent." Max was getting anxious. "Let's just go."
"Wait, wait." Roden endeavored to interpret the man's speech. "Mul – diva –ba – inja? That's . . . that's got to be. . ." and it hit him. "I think I know what it is."
"What? What?" Max was frantic. He needed to know, and he needed to get going.
"The Maldives? – By India?" Roden directed the question to the guard.
"Tha's . . . wha' I say." The guard confirmed. He sounded beyond annoyed at this point that this dense person couldn't grapple what he told him.
With the newfound knowledge pressed out of the guard, Max and Roden took off towards the garage. While they ran – yet again – Roden huffed out an explanation for why they should worry. "The Maldives are a small, secluded chain of islands off of India. They're not easy to get to. If he gets her there, we'll have even bigger problems trying to get her back."
"Oh," Max panted back, "that's just great. And this whole chase thing was going so well up until now."
The Rolls Royce was beautiful. Roden stood back for a moment to admire it's shiny perfection, because in the next few minutes, they were going to drive it to its limits, and it probably wouldn't
look
so stunning by the time they were done.
A few seconds after they swung around the drive to the entryway, Manda and Martin rushed out of the massive doors. Manda stopped short at seeing the luxurious car, but quickly regained herself, and ran around to the back passenger-side door.
"Whoa, a car chase in style. Can't say I'm not impressed with the ride." Manda exclaimed. "Let's tear the hell out of Mr. Angoli's car." No one could say Manda wasn't a vengeful person.
"That's exactly what I intend to do." Max replied as he hit the gas and hightailed along the drive and out of the estate grounds.
* * *
The ride had been long, uncomfortable and silent. Angoli couldn't resist giving Ess an occasional glance, but she managed to keep her eyes on the driver's headrest the entire journey. Her lack of motion and emotion managed to deter Angoli from making any attempts at shallow conversation or venturing any unwelcome caresses. Unfortunately, Ess knew that didn't mean he wouldn't try it in the future. He had intentions towards her, and seemed determined to pursue them.
Earlier in the drive, when Ess had thought she couldn't be more disgusted with Angoli, her detestation proved to reach even higher. On the side of the road they could see the wreckage of a black SUV, toppled onto its side and practically wrapped around a tree. Ess felt sure that it was the SUV she had been forced into yesterday. That meant that it belonged to Angoli. She felt livid hatred for the self-obsessed man when he ordered John to ignore the mangled vehicle and keep driving to the airport.
Later in the course of the drive, Ess began to recognize her surroundings. She knew the general vicinity of the airport. Although she rarely had cause to go there, she did, on occasion, pick her father up from the arrivals area when he visited after he moved to Miami. The familiar locale made Ess finally feel close to reaching a real opportunity to save herself.
When they reached the terminal area, however, the driver continued past the departures drop-off zone. This puzzled Ess, and she became more apprehensive that Angoli did, in fact, have
a
way around security.
Sure enough, the car pulled into a smaller drive further down the way and passed another building that was connected to a large airplane hanger. John swiped a card through a checkpoint at a security gate and drove onto the airport's tarmac, pulling up beside a plane. It appeared much smaller than any plane Ess had ever thought she would be flying in. The writing on the side declared it to be a Citation X, and it was rather sleek in clean white metallic with a blue design along the side and massive engines mounted high on the tail. The very sophisticated shape of the aircraft further indicated the extent of Angoli's wealth and his desire to display it.
Angoli commanded Ess to remain in the car as he and the driver spoke to the two pilots. He then produced some passport identifications and pointed to the grimacing woman in the car. One pilot gave Ess a good look through the window, comparing her to the photo on one of the passports. She couldn't be sure if the pilots worked directly for Angoli or if she could possibly risk notifying them of her hostage situation. She assured herself that she would look for the opportunity to find out.
Angoli walked with the pilots towards the front of the plane, while John the driver helped her out of the car and led her with a tight grip up the steps, through the open door of the plane's cabin. He sat her down in a seat and belted her in. "No funny business, Okay? I've got my eye on you."
With that, he headed back out the door to get the bags. Ess unbuckled her seatbelt and peered out of the window. She could chance
a
run for it, but John had parked the car so close that there could be no clear path to run around it and get away fast enough. She didn't know exactly where she could run either. Still, she told herself, it would certainly be better to chance it, than to regret doing nothing.
Unluckily, though, as Ess headed for the door, Angoli walked up the steps into the plane.
"Please, Esther, have
a
seat. John will see to your luggage. You've had a long day. It's time for you to relax. Go on and sit down. The seats do recline all the way back, you know." He smiled patronizingly at her. "Would you like a glass of wine to help you rest?"
"No." Ess needed to keep her wits about her. Alcohol certainly wouldn't allow that.
"No?" Angoli feigned surprise.
"No, thank you." Ess glared, which caused the arrogant man's nostrils to flare. She found herself rather thrilled when she could get under his skin.
John brought their personal bags onboard with a stern scowl that never seemed to leave his face. The pilots followed. Having already loaded the larger items underneath, they now headed for the cockpit. Ess noted that Angoli visibly changed his demeanor when they boarded. He acted more passively superior rather than exhibiting his naturally supercilious self; obviously, trying to keep up pretences. Ess surmised from this, that the pilots must not work directly for him. That was a promising observation.
Angoli now eyed her outfit, after only having given it a passing glance in his earlier rush to leave the estate. She had chosen a pair of business slacks and
a
white button up shirt, which she buttoned all the way to the top. This dress decision had been made as
a
point that she in no way wanted to entice Angoli's appetite and definitely had no desire to receive his notice. "The captain told me that since the Maldives are such a long way away, and this plane is made for speed rather than distance, we will have to make several stops on our trip. I do hope you will be comfortable."