Costa Crew: One More Shot

Chapter 13 - Prisoner Of My Past

Becky waited until the toast was finished, then went to her fridge. As she opened it, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Drake had bought her the essentials - milk, eggs, butter.

Buttering her toast, she then hesitated. "DI Drake?" she shouted. "Do you like butter on your toast?"

When no reply came, she sighed and walked to the door. But before she could speak, a hood was pulled over her head, surrounding her in darkness.

"You must be Rebecca," said Anthony. "I want you to know that I hate you."

As he shoved a gun against her back, Becky felt Hannah's hand on her arm. "Come on," she said. "Follow me and he won't have to use that."

"Wha-what's going on?" asked Becky, only faking some of her fear.

"As if you don't know," snorted Anthony. "That's why you have police protection."

"Raymond?" whimpered Becky. "He's my b-boyfriend."

"He had a badge and a gun," said Hannah.

Becky nodded. "He'd just come off duty."

"A likely story," snorted Anthony, pushing the gun harder into Becky's back.

Hannah sighed. "Let's just take her in. Whoever this guy is, he's not a problem any more."

"You- you killed him?" exclaimed Becky.

Anthony laughed. "No, just unconscious. The boss was very clear not to kill anyone if we could help it. That honour is reserved for you. Our little diamond."

"Come on," Hannah growled impatiently. "The longer we hang around here, the less time we have before he wakes up."

Anthony shoved Becky forward, and all she could do was follow Hannah's guidance. This wasn't part of the plan. Her only comfort now was Hannah's hand, carefully steering her towards the lift. The block of flats was owned by MI5, but the agents who lived there all worked desk jobs. None of them were trained to stop an assassin or handle a hostage situation.

When Hannah did remove the blindfold, they were standing right next to Drake's car, with the boot open. "How strong are you?" Anthony asked Hannah.

Hannah looked Becky up and down. "Strong enough," she said.

Anthony grabbed Becky's arms and Hannah picked up her legs. She considered kicking Hannah and then fighting off Anthony, but Anthony had a gun and the upper hand, while Becky had no firearm training or martial arts skills. So she allowed them to lift her up and shove her in the boot of DI Drake's car, praying for a miracle and thanking her lucky stars the Drake didn't drive a Mini.

When they were in the car Anthony handed Hannah his phone. "Call the boss and put it to my ear," he said as he set off.

"What took you so long?" the boss asked. "I thought you'd been arrested."

"Hidgens was either under police protection or had a boyfriend round," said Anthony. "We've got her though. Courtney and I are on our way."

"Is she comfortable?" asked the boss.

Anthony grinned. "She's in the boot."

The signal distorted what came next, but that didn't matter, because Anthony knew his boss' laugh when he heard it. "Oh, that's brilliant," she said eventually. "And she gets travel sick. She'll be throwing up all over herself."

Anthony scowled. "Yeah, well, you'd better have everything completely covered. I don't want her making a mess of my house."

"Don't worry Anthony, everything's fine. Maybe give her some water when you get out. I want her properly awake when she sees my face. Now hang up and hurry up."

"Yes ma'am," Anthony muttered under his breath.

Becky was indeed feeling very ill, but she was able to control herself, despite Anthony's driving. The last thing she wanted was to throw up in the boot where it already smelled horrible due to the lack of fresh air. And as annoying as Drake was, she didn't want to throw up in his boot. If it was Anthony's car she would have been tempted, especially given that his boss' orders were to bring her alive, and even if he got any ideas Hannah was there to calm him down.

Both Hannah and Becky's hearts were pounding as they pulled up outside Anthony's house. Hannah knew that Anthony was under orders to kill her as soon as Becky was dead. The best way to save herself was to save Becky, but her chance of doing that looked smaller as every second passed.

Just as she got out of the car, she heard Anthony scream. "What? What is it?" asked Hannah, rushing to where he was standing, in front of the open boot.

It took every bit of self control Hannah had to stop herself smiling. "She threw up on my SHOES!" cried Anthony.

"Quiet," Hannah whispered. "If the neighbours hear they'll call the cops saying you've got a person in your boot."

Anthony scowled. "Give her some water," he huffed. "Then take her out and cuff her."

Hannah winked at Becky, who grinned back, before returning to the front of the car. She was reaching into the glovebox for the water and handcuffs when she heard Becky cry out. She rushed to the back to see Becky clutching at her jaw and Anthony standing over her looking smug.

"What the hell?" whispered Hannah. "We have a job to do!"

She handed the water to Becky, who drank it gratefully. Anthony didn't strike her again, but grabbed the cuffs from Hannah.

"Stand up," said Hannah. Becky stood. Anthony twisted her arms back and she felt the cold metal close tightly round her wrists. He then thrust the gun against her back. "Go in," he snarled in her ear.

Becky followed Hannah inside and up the stairs, with Anthony's gun against her back the whole time. Every inch of the hallway was covered in tarpaulin, including the doors and ceiling. In the centre was a chair which Becky was cuffed to before having her feet taped down as well. And at the very end of the hallway, leaning against the wall smirking, stood the Godfather herself.

"Hello, Amelia," croaked Becky.