She had dozed fitfully and roused herself when the sun began to rise in the sky. Her parched throat informed her that she needed water. Not having water would slow her down. She dare not ask a householder she may come across for a drink. In her dishevelled and muddy state they would take one look and run indoors to phone the police. She was only interested in one policeman. Others would only complicate matters.
She decided to return to the cottage. Her mind was awash with awkward thoughts. What if they were waiting for her? What if they were still in the cottage? She would have to use all the skills from her training. Even though the terrain was very different the principles remained the same.
She cautiously crawled from her hidey hole. The daylight enabled her to avoid stepping on noisy dead twigs and branches. Every so often she stopped, picked up a large stone and threw it as hard as she could. She then crouched down and listened intently for any sound that would betray the presence of other humans. There were none.
It took her a while to retrace her steps back to the cottage, albeit in a circuitous route.
She crouched in the bushes scouring the cottage and all around it for any signs of life. None! From the safety of her cover she lobbed a large stone onto the deck of the holiday home. It struck the wooden platform with a thud and rolled noisily across the floor for a few seconds.
She waited anxiously for a few what seemed an age. Nothing! She moved location and lobbed another stone.....Again nothing. She cautiously approached the rear of the cottage. 'Shit' she silently cursed to herself, 'The bastards have taken the motorbike!'
She couldn't do any more to flush anyone out. Now she had to take the gamble. Still cautious she approached the front door and tried to open it. Locked! No matter she went to the rear where the bathroom window was unlocked, How unprofessional of them she thought. Unless, it was a trap. She wondered whether paranoia was taking over. To hell with it she had to try.
She opened the door into the sitting room. The foetid smell hit her immediately as did the buzzing of the flies and the scratching noise and high pitched fast chattering. Sensing her presence, the chattering and scratching eerily stopped. Then frantic scurrying sounds ensued as dark shapes jumped from the table and ran across the floor.
She approached the table. Rats had bitten off her companion's nose and eaten his eyes out. They had also feasted on his finger stumps. The flies had welcomed the open feast that the killers and the rats had laid before them. The warm air would speed the incubation of the maggots. She gulped slightly her companion had been reasonable company. However, she had seen worse corpse. She remembered a stoning and how the red pulpy human carcass had looked after being left in the market place for a couple of days.
She went into the kitchen and gulped down a cup of water. She found a container and filled it with water.
She washed her face and hands. She felt better with the mud removed. However she could do nothing about her clothes that were still slightly damp. They would dry in the heat of the day, as long as it didn't rain. Now she just felt hungry. Too bad she would have to wait.
Now to get out of here. She still felt that she could not take any chances. Best not to walk along the track. They may be waiting at the end. Best to trek through the forest and find another road. Which way to go?
The sun rises in the east. The track is west facing....if she walked due north she should eventually hit another road. A different road because she remembered that the track had been straight. There was no way the attackers could guard everywhere or guess which way she would go. They would probably think that she would head south for the safety of London. After all there was nothing for her in Norwich, to the North. BUT for what she intended Norwich was the best option
She started walking. After about an hour and a half she came across what appeared to be minor road.
She walked in the forest parallel to the road: they had trained to be careful and she didn't wish to take any chances. Her heart lifted and beat a little faster when after a couple of hours of walking she espied a welcome red telephone box in a parking bay. She ran towards it. She hoped that it had not been vandalised.
It had not! It even had a telephone directory! What luck! Her heart sank when she saw that chunks of it had been ripped out. Obviously people who needed a crap had torn out sheets to utilise in the bushes. That explained the little bits of paper that sprinkled the bushes close to the box. No matter her luck was still in. The sheet containing the police number was intact.
She searched in the pocket of her cargo pants and found a selection of coins. Yes she had enough to make a call. Now for the moment of truth. She lifted the handset from its cradle. Even before, she put it to her ear she heard the reassuring loud purr.
She dialled the number in the book. She asked for Blunt. Shit he wasn't there. She told the switchboard she needed to speak to the policeman urgently about the cases in the media. She read the number off the notice in the box and advised that she would only be there for another ten minutes.
On receiving the message the policeman thought, indeed hoped, that the first big break had arrived. He took out his brick and dialled the number.
The girl had waited impatiently in the box. Each time a car approached she turned inwards towards the corner of the box shielding her face from the road. She couldn't be too careful. After what seemed like an eternity the phone rang loud and clear.
She refused to answer Blunt's questions regarding her companion. She would tell him what she could when she saw him. She wanted to do a deal. The policeman said that they needed to pick her up and then they could talk about deals. She readily acquiesced stating that she needed to be picked up quickly as she feared for her life. Again she refused to answer from whom. All she would say is that she would tell him when she met him. Finally she gave him the location of the call box. When asked if she was armed she advised him that she had neither gun nor blade.
On finishing the call she found herself a well hidden spot amongst the bushes that afforded her a good view of both sides of the road.
Blunt delegated the organisation of the pick-up to Leibnitz. Two squad cars, an armed response unit in an unmarked car and accompanied the two of them to the phone box location.
Each squad car lights flashing blocked off the road 100 yards ahead of the phone box on either side. Two officers from the armed response unit stood at either end in readiness for anything that might occur. In full regalia they resembled creatures from a science fiction movie. Blunt and Leibnitz put on their flak jackets. As Blunt climbed out of the car he ordered a disappointed Leibnitz to stay put.
The girl watched all this activity intently from the relative safety of her hiding spot. She would have to be careful. One careless move and she could be blown away.
She recognised Blunt. He called out loudly asking her to step out into the middle of the road with her arms above her head.
She shouted back that she would do so. She sensed the armed officers tense as she slowly walked into the middle of the road. She stood there waiting for them in an almost defiant manner. They cautiously approached her. One of the armed unit, a female officer frisked her, found the container of water in her waistband and threw it away. She was cuffed and led away to Blunt's car.
Luckily there had been no traffic on the road. Therefore the chances of the media knowing that there had been an armed response incident was minimal. The two squad cars remained awaiting further orders from the detectives. The armed response unit returned to Norwich: their presence required at another incident.
She asked whether they had anything to eat. Leibnitz rummage in her pockets and came up with half a packet of mints. The girl devoured them. Blunt asked for the whereabouts of her companion. She told him about the dead body.....who killed him she does not know...but it was not her. She laughed at Leibnitz taking notes. She gave them the location of the cottage.
Leibnitz jumped out of the car and strode towards one of the squad cars. She asked for and was given the radio mike. She got hold of Cushion.
Within minutes Cushion had organised an armed response unit and another two squad cars. He had also managed to delegate the task of investigating the ownership of the cottage to a pliable young wpc.