Hiding behind some of the rust
covered machinery, the pain didn’t appear for a minute at least; it was the swell
of oozing warmth that drew his attention to the hole which had formed in his
stomach. How did he get here?
They came in the middle of the
night, all in black, professional and hired.
Answer phone was all he received
after glancing at the blood covered images of his Abbey that now filled his phone.
It had to be a joke he begged myself.
His house phone rang with clarity.
“You want her alive yes.” The
voice was cloaked with the familiar hum of a voice changer; he could almost
make out the brand.
“Of course.” Hands shaking but
his voice remained calm.
“Bring the drive.” What the hell
was he on about? What drive?
“Is she okay?” She was kidnapped
by psychotic monsters, of course she wasn’t okay.
Abbey’s voice echoed through the
phone. “Mr Lego, McGee.” Her voice muffled against the sound of restraint once
more.
“Where?” They rung off the address
of some warehouse where they’d both be shortly killed.
He toyed with the Lego key-ring
before realising which key it held. The key to the gun box hidden in the wardrobe,
only Abbey new it was there. Now he knew.
He was expected, so of course
they didn’t lock anything. Sneaking in through a back window McGee could see
everything, everything except Abbey. The glock fit his hand well, only Abbey
knew that he had taken a lesson or two on how to use it.
He didn’t want to kill any of
them, but he wasn’t about to let them kill Abbey, his Abbey. One at a time they
fell, kicking their semi-automatics out of reach before moving on to the next;
years of playing spy games were finally making themselves useful. Pausing only
to reload. Often. Apparently his aim was better in the game, but still.
So now he stood, with a hole in
his stomach staring at the man who took his Abbey; his face rougher than his
voice sounded. Nothing about him looked like a hit-man, he wanted to be
professional but he knew this was a game for bigger fish and was regretting
every move.
“Braver than I thought.” He
started, going on about his stupidity, McGee couldn’t focus on a word he said
as the moment sank in, Abbey was tied to a chair but the gun pointed at her
temple wasn’t. He talked for too long. As he turned his back, McGee fired.
As McGee reached his Abbey,
stumbling and bloody; without even untying her, he grabbed her face between his
hands and planted his lips on hers. Her shaking stopped, and even with her
hands bound behind her, she reached for him. Now she really was his Abbey.
Mr Lego wasn’t even the drive.
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