Chapter 8a
Tommy – Night Raid
The Horrible’s men took me back to
the small unfurnished room where we had been kept before, but this time they
locked the door behind them. Sergeant
McAlister was sitting in the corner rubbing his head. “Rather nice to see a familiar face, though I
don’t mean I’m glad you’re kidnapped again.”
I ignored him and sat up against
the wall, looking out the tiny window at the dark purple sky.
“Where’s the little one, then?” he
asked.
“I don’t know,” I sniffled and
continued to cry. I didn’t care who saw
my tears now.
“Hey now, son. Everything’s going to be spot on in a week or
so. The Department’s going to come
looking for us any day now.” He crawled
out of the corner over to where I sat.
It was getting really dark and we couldn’t see much.
“No they’re not. No one knows we’re here. They’re going to shoot Dicky and it’s all my
fault.”
“Now lad, that’s no way to
talk. The Horrible’s been talking
rubbish to you. The chaps at my station
won’t let me go missing without doing a thorough check for me. Us being cooped up here is no more your fault
than it is mine. You’ve been quite
heroic, taking a bullet like that. I’d
say both you and your brother are better blokes than you give yourself credit
for.”
I thought back to all the crazy
things that had happened to Dicky and me since that day when it all
started. I realized how much I had
changed. I wasn’t the same person
anymore because I had something to live for.
I wasn’t worthless. “Still, I
don’t know what we’re going to do,” I said out loud.
He sighed and chuckled a little,
“Say your prayers, mate. It’s out of our
hands now.”
There wasn’t much to do but
wait. It seemed as if McAlister was an
inexhaustible source of conversation. He
told me all about his job and the guys at the station, then he told me about
the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.
He was downright crazy. The
guards would always know when it was lunchtime because Sergeant McAlister would
sing the drinking song that he had learned in Ireland about getting whiskey for
any meal of the day. It was not pretty.
The light through the window came
and went. We didn’t hear any news, and
we got less and less food as time passed.
McAlister said that meant that things weren’t going well for The
Horrible. One day while McAlister was
singing, I heard The Horrible yelling at his men and I think he was throwing
things, too, because there was a crash so huge that McAlister stopped singing.
That evening, we heard engines
starting in the courtyard. The sky was
already dark. A couple guards stormed into
the room and prodded us to our feet with their guns.
“Get up, be quiet, put your hands
on your head,” they ordered.
We marched out to the courtyard
ahead of the guards. Several Jeeps and a
sleek black car were running, waiting to move out. I knew we couldn’t leave because Dicky
wouldn’t be able to lead the police to us if we left. So I tripped on purpose. My face hit the dirt, and my guard
immediately started shouting at me.
Several other guards shouted at him to be quiet and a couple rushed to
jerk me to my feet. Then a flare lit up
the sky. There was a loud crash and the front gates swung open to let in an
armed force that trained their guns on The Horrible’s henchmen.
A helicopter swooped past and a
voice came over a loudspeaker. It spoke
first in Spanish, then in French, and then in English. The Horrible’s men began to lay down their
weapons. “We have you surrounded. Put down your weapons and get on the ground,
facedown, with your hands where we can see them. Step away from the hostages. No sudden movements. Thank you.”
“See, I told you they’d be here to
get us. And so polite about it, too,” McAlister
said as he shielded his eyes from the helicopter’s floodlight.
“We did it Dicky. I knew we could.”
Chapter 8b
Dicky – Together Again
I sat between Mom and Dad in the
waiting room. It had not been that long
from when Tommy had been admitted to the hospital, but it seemed twice as long
now that we were so close to seeing him again.
Mom thumbed through a magazine and Dad glanced at his watch. I watched the second hand revolve around the
clock on the wall.
“La famille de Thomas Other?” a nurse asked. The three of us snapped to attention. “Il est
prêt à être vu aujourd’hui.”
“That means we can go in now,” Dad
and I translated in unison, standing up.
Dad held out his hand and Mom
grasped it tightly, rising to her feet also.
She reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder to pull me in to her
side. We followed the nurse down the
hall like this, stopping at a door.
I opened the door. Tommy was sitting up in the closer bed. “Dicky!” he exclaimed, enthusiastically
throwing his hands up in the air.
I jumped to his side, “I’m so glad
to see you alive!”
“Me too! For both of us.”
Tommy smiled at Mom and Dad then
pulled us all on top of him in a huge group hug.
“You sure are glad to see us,” Dad
commented.
“Oh dear, I was worried sick for
both of you. When those awful men
called…” and Mom burst into tears.
Tommy and I exchanged looks and
then he said, “It’s okay, Mom. We’re all
here together.”
Mom sniffled and Dad was about to
say something when a knock came on the door.
Chief Cuire of the Gruissan police peeked around the door. “I am sorry to intrude, but if you do not
mind, I need to ask the boys something.”
Mom was about to object, but I said,
“Come on in, Chief Cuire.”
He came in and greeted us with
handshakes, then he became serious. “All
of Europe is endebted to you boys, but we ask a favor. Stay in Europe and testify at L’Horrible’s
trial. Your parents should feel free to
stay and see the sights of Europe.”
“I have been considering doing just
that, actually,” Dad said.
“You should M. Other, France is a
lovely country. So boys, what do you
say?”
“Sure, I’m in,” Tommy said.
“But…” Mom objected again.
Dad came to the rescue, “Now dear, you’ve
always said how much you wanted to visit Paris.”
“That’s true, I just don’t want to
leave my babies.”
“Madame, your sons are the two
bravest young men I have met, they can do their duty to justice and be back
with you in no time. I am sure of it,” Chief
Cuire assured her.
Mom smiled and tousled my hair, she
blinked back a couple tears.
“We’ll do anything to help,” I
agreed.
“Good,” Chief Cuire beamed. “And if you two ever feel like helping rid
Europe of any more criminals, just give me a call.”
“Sure thing,” Tommy declared. I laughed and secretly hoped that we would
never have to visit France again.
The End
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