Just Another Day - Clark Steven (читаем книги бесплатно .TXT) 📗

John, being somewhat surprised by this order, shouted back a little louder than he intended. The last thing he wanted was to wind Johnson up by questioning his authority.

‘Who’s going to drive the car if I’m in the passenger seat?’ said John.

‘Just do what your fucking told. I want to show you something.’

John got into the passenger seat and closed the door. Johnson had been holding the shotgun tightly against his captives’ neck with his right hand. Unknown to Dave, them both being hidden under the blanket, Johnson had taken his finger off the trigger; He didn’t want there to be any unintended shotgun blasts at this stage of the game. When it happened, he wanted to savour the moment.

The twisted cloth holding the gun in place was causing him to feel faint as it was cutting off the blood supply to his brain. Dave asked very quietly, but without much expectation, if Johnson could slacken off the noose. Much to his surprise, and without any aggression or comments of any kind, he felt the pressure ease as Johnson untwisted the ligature with one anti clockwise turn and transferred the weapon from his right hand to his left. He felt the blood begin to flow and he winced in pain as his damaged ear lobe began to throb.

‘Look at the drivers’ seat,’ Johnson said to John.

John began to turn around to the figure behind him to his right, suddenly, he felt a sharp punch to the right side of his head near his temple and he was momentarily stunned.

‘Don’t fucking look at me. Look at the seat.’

John instinctively rubbed the side of his head and looked toward the empty driver’s seat wondering what this psychopath was going to do next. Johnson took hold of the handle of the kitchen knife with his empty right hand and slowly slid it out of his waistband.

‘Can you see anything on the drivers’ seat?’ he said to John.

Still hurting and rubbing the side of his head, he was also now tired and somewhat exasperated by the puerile nonsense spewing from his obscene mouth.

‘No, I can’t see anything.’

‘You will now, watch.’

As john glanced to his right once more, he saw a sudden movement behind him. Johnson gripped the carving knife very firmly and stabbed the back of the empty driver’s seat with tremendous force. John involuntarily jumped as he saw the blade exit the middle of the fabric covering by about six inches and he shuddered as he thought of the damage the blade would have done to him if he had been sitting in the seat. He realised that this was exactly what Johnson wanted him to feel. He was letting John know that he was very much in charge of the situation and that he could kill both of them at any time. It wasn’t warm in the car, in fact it was quite chilly but he felt a shiver of sweat as it ran down the back of his shirt into his waistband.

Johnson withdrew the blade.

‘Do I need to explain anything to you Mr Negotiator?’ Said Johnson in a mocking voice. He knew full well that his demonstration conveyed his power far more than words ever could.

John was beginning to have a very bad feeling about the outcome of this situation. He had seen Johnson swallowing more pills in an effort to stay awake and he knew it would be only a matter of time before Johnson realised that he needed to sleep. As a lone kidnapper with no one else to help him, he might decide to end it sooner rather than later.

‘I understand’ said John. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do next.’

‘Right you lot, listen to what I’ve got to say’ growled Johnson.

John started to speak, ‘who are?’ he didn’t finish his question as he felt Johnson lean forward and felt the tip of the knife blade press against the soft tissue behind his right ear.

‘Do you think I’m a simpleton or something’ as he pushed the knife a little harder causing a small puncture wound, john felt the blood trickle down his neck.

‘This is a fucking police car; keep your mouth shut while I talk to our friends who I’m sure will be listening now to my every soothing, comforting word.’ Johnson took the blade away and leaned back in his seat.

‘Now, this is what I’m going to do my friends,’ he was now beginning to enjoy taunting a wider audience.

‘As our friendly marksmen will be able to see; the officer and me’, he said, almost laughing, ‘still have the blanket over our head. I’m going to remove it because we both need a little air. Just remember any of you nice people with the guns that whilst it may be very tempting for you to consider relieving me of my head, you will also see my own little gun pressing into your friend’s neck.

So just bear that in mind one and all; think of it as a supermarket offer; shoot me dead, and you get another dead one free.’

Chief Superintendent McKay sat back in his chair in the forward command post a short distance from the hostage scene and stared intently at the radio speaker. He knew that Johnson would work out sooner or later that the police car was bugged but he hoped that he would be able to buy a little time as the gunman would be tired and maybe not thinking too clearly. Johnson’s chilling monotone voice dispelled any notion that they might gain an advantage in being able to listen directly to the dialogue in the car.

Ged Duggan was also concentrating very hard on not pulling the trigger. He had a clear sight and the red laser dot was very visible on the back of Johnson’s skull. He could end this now and they could all go home. ‘Relax Ged’, he thought to himself, ‘There’s only one in the car that needs taking out. Let’s get the guys home safe.’ He eased his finger off the trigger and slid the safety catch in position.

‘I think that went rather well’ said Johnson to no one in particular as he pushed the blanket back over their shoulders to the parcel shelf behind.

‘Now then John Boy, before we set off on our little trip to the seaside, back in the drivers cab of the lorry, you will find a pair of green overalls and a nice comfy pair of trainers that our lorry driver friend left behind in his haste to depart from us. Very rude don’t you think?’ John knew the words were more of a statement than a question and didn’t answer.

‘They’re at the bottom of the bunk near the cupboard and you’ve got 30 seconds to get them and then get back in the car, otherwise your mate here, who looks a little under the weather anyway, might just lose a little more blood. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes’ he replied, ‘perfectly.’

‘No, I’m not sure you do understand me. I want you to turn round, very slowly, and look at me.’

The menacing tone of the words chilled John and he slowly turned as instructed. Their eyes met and John could see the unmistakable wildness in his eyes and at that moment he knew that their captor had no intention whatsoever of allowing either of them to survive their imprisonment. At the end of their torment, Johnson was going to kill them both. They might die in the next five minutes or the next five hours, but as they looked at each other, they both knew that things had gone too far now for there to be a peaceful end to the situation.

He broke his gaze and glanced at Dave who was fading. He didn’t think he would be able to take much more of his humiliation and pain.

Johnson didn’t take his eyes off John and glared at him.

‘Doesn’t look too good your mate; why don’t we put him out of his misery and then you and I can be a nice cosy twosome eh?’

John’s eyes flashed back to Johnson,

‘please, I’m begging you, don’t,’ he didn’t finish his sentence before Johnson cut him off with a wave of the blade and said, ‘Now I think you understand. 30 seconds, Go.’ Johnson was enjoying playing to a wider audience as he was well aware that the command team would be listening to his every word.

John stumbled out of the car and ran and tripped as he reached the lorry with its passenger door still open from where Dave had slithered out in what seemed an age ago but in reality was only about 10 minutes.