A box, I’m inside a wooden box, he thought as panic started to take over.
I’ve gotta get out of here.
He jerked his body violently from side to side, his legs trying to kick out, his hands scraping away on the wood until all his nails were broken, but his efforts were not rewarded. He started to feel claustrophobic, making him more desperate.
He knew panicking wouldn’t help. He needed to work with whatever little knowledge of the situation he had. He took a moment to calm himself down. Concentrating on his heartbeat he took deep breaths. After a minute it started to work. George urged his brain to think. He tried to gather all the information he had so far. He’d been attacked, drugged, taken hostage and placed inside some sort of wooden box. He could feel the blood flowing normally through his body, and that told him the box was in an upright position instead of lying down. That brought him some relief. If the box had been in a horizontal position it could mean he was underground – buried alive inside some kind of coffin, and that petrified him. From a very young age George had been terrified of confined spaces. He was only ten when his mother beat him senseless and locked him inside a wardrobe for twelve hours with no food and no water. His crime – falling off his bike and tearing his brand-new pair of trousers at the knee.
He kicked his legs against the wooden walls again. They felt solid, as if the box had been nailed shut.
‘Would you stop making all that noise?’
The voice took George by surprise. Someone else was there. George’s heart started beating faster. He tried to scream once again, but the gag in his mouth was too tight and he produced only a muffled grunt.
‘It won’t be very long now.’
George could feel the panic coming back. What wouldn’t be long? Until he was freed or until he was dead? He needed to get rid of the gag in his mouth. He knew that if he could speak he would be able to reason with whoever else was there. That’s what he knew how to do – talk to people. As a lawyer he had negotiated million-dollar deals. He had convinced juries and judges that his side of an argument was the correct one. If he was given the chance he was sure he could reason with his captor. If only he could speak.
He jerked his body once again, making even more noise, hysteria starting to take over.
‘That won’t help you.’
Suddenly George froze. He knew that voice, he was sure he’d heard it before, but where? He made more noise.
‘Suit yourself, if you wanna make noise, go right ahead.’
There was no doubt in George’s mind anymore. He knew that person. He closed his eyes in an effort to search his memory. Where had they met before? In the office? In a court of law? Where? George implored his memory to help him.
‘Jesus!’ he said, shivering and reopening his eyes. It had been at a party, a BDSM party. It all came back to him. He could clearly picture the person’s face in his mind.
‘I know you . . . I know who you are . . .’
Twenty-Four
Lucas stared at the race result on his computer screen. Garcia was trying his best to look over everyone’s shoulders and get a glimpse of it. Hunter kept his eyes shut, too nervous to look.
‘We lost,’ Lucas’s voice croaked. ‘Trap two won it, trap five got second.’ He had to force himself to look at Hunter.
‘No,’ Garcia said, his voice barely audible. He made an effort not to be sick and tasted his breakfast rise in his throat.
Captain Bolter pushed Lucas aside so he could get a better look at the screen.
‘Shit! I should’ve picked trap two, I was between two and five – I should’ve gone for two,’ Lucas said, collapsing onto his chair.
Captain Bolter’s eyes were still on the screen. The result read: 1st trap two, 2nd trap five, 3rd trap eight. ‘It’s not your fault,’ he finally said, placing a friendly hand on Lucas’s shoulder.
Hunter was still silent. His eyes closed, his hands tucked inside his pockets. After a few more seconds he looked at Garcia and mouthed the words ‘I can’t believe this.’
Everyone stood motionless. No one knew what to say. Hunter wanted to scream and punch Lucas’s computer screen, but he kept his anger locked inside.
Hunter’s cell phone rang once again startling everyone. He snapped it out of his pocket and checked the display. A gentle nod towards Captain Bolter indicated that the caller was who they expected it to be.
‘Yes,’ Hunter said in a defeated tone of voice.
‘Unlucky.’
‘Wait . . .’ Hunter pleaded but it was too late, the line went dead.
‘Turn it off,’ Captain Bolter pointed to Lucas’s computer screen. ‘There’s no need for any more dog racing today.’