Tunnels 04, Closer

scrunch of gravel outside as if a car had drawn up, then some banging. But the sounds had been so short-lived and so muffled through the door that they didn't give him much of an idea what was happening outside his diminutive prison. He assumed his monstrous captor was probably up to something that made sense in her twisted world. As he groaned from his hunger and thirst, he put the sounds from his mind and tried to go back to sleep.

    * * * * *

    Drake stormed into the warehouse flat and hurried through to his bedroom, returning a few seconds later with a kitbag and a Bergen. Eddie had seen the urgency with which he was moving, and rose from his chair.
    Drake upended both the kitbag and the Bergen, tipping all the equipment from them onto the floor, which he then began to sort through as he selected what he needed.
    "Something happened?" Eddie asked.
    "Yes, I've got to go to Norfolk. I just dialed in for messages on the remote server -- it's accessed by a Topsoil number I gave Elliott, to contact me in an emergency," he said.
    "Is she in trouble?" Eddie asked quickly.
    "No, the message is from Chester, and doesn't mention her," Drake said, putting some of his gear back into the Bergen. "It's not very clear but, from what I can make out, he may have resurfaced by now." He shook his head, furious with himself. "What a bloody fool! I haven't been checking the server on a regular basis -- the message is from weeks ago." He picked up a handgun and a couple of magazines, one of which he slotted into the weapon. As he cocked it and tucked it into his waistband in the small of his back, he paused to glance across at Eddie. "I just hope that boy has the nous to hide out up here, and not try to go home. If he's gone back to Highfield, your buddies will have nabbed him."
    "But there's still a chance that Elliott might be with him," Eddie reasoned, putting his jacket on. "In which case I'm coming with you."

    * * * * *

    "I'm parked a couple of blocks away," Drake said, glancing in the direction of his Range Rover, as he and Eddie stepped out of the warehouse.
    "Let's use mine, instead," Eddie suggested, striding off in the opposite direction.
    For a moment Drake didn't make a move to follow him, adjusting the strap of his heavy Bergen so it sat more comfortably on his shoulder. Then, further down the street, he saw the indicators flash on a brand new Aston Martin as Eddie depressed his key fob.
    "Classy wheels," Drake said, as he approached the car, giving the gleaming black paintwork an appreciative look. Eddie opened the driver's door and waited for Drake, who seemed to be hesitant. "A bit conspicuous though, isn't it?" Drake added. "Unless you're James Bond. Perhaps it would be better to take the Range Rover?"
    Eddie didn't reply.
    The Drake recapitulated. "Okay, we'll use yours, but I'm driving," he said.
    It was late in the evening and the traffic didn't present a problem as Drake raced out of London, then tore up toward Norfolk. As the dual carriageway came to an end and the road narrowed to a single lane, Drake didn't ease up on the speed. For a while they listened to the news on the radio, but once this had finished neither spoke as the last light from the sun faded and they found themselves in a moonless nightscape. A strong wind had picked up, and every so often the headlamps caught the shining eyes of plump deer grazing on the verges.
    Spotting a car coming in the opposite direction, Drake dipped his lights. As expected, the driver of the other car did likewise, but when he was almost level with Drake, he flipped them onto full beam again, hooting his horn like a maniac. An empty beer can struck the side of the Aston.
    "Bloody idiot!" Drake exclaimed as the glaring lights blinded him.
    Eddie lurched sideways in his seat as Drake executed a perfect handbrake turn, slewing the car round so it was facing in the opposite direction. The V8 roared as he floored the accelerator, and he sped off in pursuit of the other vehicle.
    "Someone needs to teach that prat a lesson!" Drake said. Catching up and overtaking the car, he cut so sharply in front of it that it was forced to stop with one wheel on the grass verge.
    "I don't think this is a good..." Eddie began, but Drake leapt from the car. The other driver had climbed out of his vehicle and was staring insolently at Drake as he leant against the open door and drew on a cigarette. He was in his twenties, with long hair and a sleeveless black T-shirt with a faded white