FIFTEEN
Stuart continued to ride his red and black bike as fast as he could. He roared down a great mighty slope that was covered in row after row of bush and yellow and white shrubs. As he rolled down the hill cycling as fast as he could he started to gain speed at an incredible rate. He quickly made distance between himself and the two men in the Range Rover. His bike cascaded like a steep waterfall down the hill towards a trail that took him off the road. Above the trail stood a row of trees that acted like a Chrysalis providing a protective covering for Stuart and blocking the two men’s view of him.
He briefly stopped. He looked back to see if he was being followed by the bike rider or men in the Range Rover. He briefly smelt the sweet dulcet smell of flowers that were intermingled between the trees. Taking in the moment and his short-lived rest he quickly pushed his bike off and began to flee west along the trail.
Once more, he felt carefree. He was glowing with hope and radiance. Despite this, he knew he would have to keep going riding further and further along this trail and away from danger. Each peddle got him nearer and near to safety.
Across the moors ran several flocks of red deer roaming the moors and mountain slopes of the glens. One or two pine marten swept across the cliffs and steep slopes. Amongst the heather and the wild flowers roamed a family of wildcats, the mountain hare and the marsh fritillary butterfly.
After a few hours of cycling, he entered a great mist. It was an enormous cloudy haze. As he entered the mist, it surrounded him like the darkness of the night. He was forced to slow down. Unexpectedly, Stuart felt afraid to move forward. He was not so sure he could make it through the mist without crashing his bike and harming himself. He knew he could not go back because behind him was the men trying to capture him. He knew that he still had a long journey to travel before he was free from danger.
As his bike slowed down his eyes began to wander through the gaps in the mist. High above him he could hear a rare corncrake making its rasping call. He looked up to catch a glimpse of this elusive bird.
As he looked downwards, Stuart could just make out a vast field of wheat. He found himself daydreaming as he searched for a sign or an answer about what he should do but found nothing. He looked up to the sky. It was no longer blue and silent but full of a constant grey cloud.
He decided that he would have to just risk it and hope he did not hit anything in the mist. He picked up speed and cycled through the field. As he moved forward, he could feel the wheat bushes hissing along with the breeze of the wind. His bike whizzed through the fields until he came to a small stream that he crossed before cycling up a hill into a long diluted mountain range.
A few hours later Stuart took a rest by the side of a roadside cafe. He stood next to his bike under the watchful gaze of a group of people hiking down the side of a Monroe. He walked to the café and brought large bottle of water and a sandwich. He quickly ate both the sandwich and then drank the water before he set off down a steep incline wrapped in purple and blue heather. It did not take long before he arrived at a small town. There he crossed a stream where he decided to ditch the bike by the side of a small bridge. Feeling safe, he walked on for a few hundred yards before he arrived in the town.
As he entered the town, he noticed a man with two teenagers was chopping up wood while a woman was busy taking clothes down from a clothesline. In another house, two small dogs were barking away at each other. He then went on to pass an empty football pitch and a deserted outdoor bowling green. Within half an hour, he was into the centre of the town.
The town was one of those ex-mining towns that you see littered across the central belt in Scotland. It was beset with dilapidated houses that looked like they were past their best days. They were the typical 1960’s style buildings all grey and dull. Litter was scattered across the roads. Broken bottles of cider and empty chip shop packets with the smell of last night take away was all around him.
He stopped in the centre of the village and began to search for a sign for a train station or bus stop. In the centre stood a large Norman church with a graveyard littered with graves from centuries long ago. A Pictish standing stone with a great design stood in the middle of a common green.
As he looked around, he could feel a harsh wind blowing. It was one of those cold wet Scottish winds that come down through the mountain passes. It was one of those winds that made your hair curl and made your nerves leap and your skin prickle. On days like this, you could feel the cold on your spine. It felt like anything can happen.
He turned around a noticed another black Range Rover was parked by the side of a pub and two men were at watching Stuart.
They both got out of the vehicle and began to walk towards Stuart. Both men had the type of builds and faces that made you want to cross over the road to avoid rather than risk being squashed by them. Stuart looked at these two huge men in horror they were like gorillas. They both looked like they could squat Stuart down in a single punch. A bit like how you would squash a fly with a ruler.
Stuart knew that the game was up and he needed to either fight or flight.
The two men walked towards him in a menacing manner. Their look on their faces was one, which told Stuart that they were relentless in their pursuit of him. These men looked like they would rather die than return empty without Stuart.
Stuart stood still looking at the approaching men. He suddenly felt paralysed. He did not know where to run to or which direction. Stuart started to run as fast as he could. The two men turned and ran back to their vehicle. One of the men screamed orders into a small electronic gadget that was tied to his arm wrist and looked like a watch.
Both men jumped into their vehicle and began to drive towards Stuart. As the car gathered speed, it made its way down a street. A huge truck turned so that it was adjacent to the oncoming vehicle blocking the road. Without a split seconds hesitation, the driver of the car pitched the vehicle into a sudden turn and stepped on his accelerator. With a screech of the car’s tires, the Range Rover shot backwards away from the truck. At that sound, Stuart looked up.
One of the vehicles windows wound down and out of it reaches an unnaturally long barrel. A second later, a rocket-launched grenade crushed a bus shelter bringing debris crashing around Stuart. The bus shelter erupted into flames bringing a red and orange fireball crashing down onto Stuart. Stuart was flattened in an instant and was knocked unconscious.
The man that fired the weapon un-cocked the weapons with a satisfied smile. The car then pulled up to the almost dead Stuart. There both men got out of the car and flung Stuart into the back of their Range Rover.
Susan was sitting in a small coffee house in Milngavie drinking the remains of her coffee listening to the droning sound of bagpipes in the background. People around her were texting message after message of to their friends when she got the phone call telling her that they had captured Stuart.
At receiving the news, Susan looked up and smiled with warmth she had not felt for a few weeks. Her brown eyes wide apart and inquiring could not hide her joy at having captured Stuart.
‘Tell me your position’
As it came over her phone, she logged it down in her Phone and pressed the Navigate to. A few minutes later she was in her Black Range Rover and was heading North towards where her team where holding Stuart.
As she drove away, Susan began to think about what to do next. Perhaps this Stuart was an agent or plant that had been put in place by the elusive Simon Dunbar. Perhaps Simon had found another way to infiltrate her organisation or MI6. Maybe this was part of a much bigger plot that was being hatched right before her eyes.