On the Run
Chapter 21

Copyright© 2012 by John D

Inspector Richard Williamson banged on the front door as an array of light-bulbs flashed behind him from the gate. There was silence and he stood aside as an officer with a battering ram smashed into the door and shouted "we're in" as the door came off its hinges." Four officers and the Inspector poured into the house and fanned into the rooms.

The Inspector walked in and looked around, listening for any noise. He was annoyed; the raid had had to be hastily arranged and brought forward as some pesky newspaper had splashed across their front page something he had been working on and he therefore had to move fast.

Richard Williamson, and most of the Police force, knew about Jaroslav Doszak but getting him red-handed was hard. The newspaper may have beaten them to it, but he was nearing an arrest anyway for the attempted fraud of the auction house as well as the trafficking of a Russian teenager he had in witness protection.

There was a sound and Jaroslav emerged, naked except for a pair of boxer shorts and snarled at the Inspector watching him. "I told you last year I would get you," the Inspector told him. "And now I have."

"Fuck you," he shouted. "We humiliate you in court," Jaroslav muttered and the Inspector shook his head.

"Not this time. We got people on the inside." Jaroslav smirked and was lead away to get dressed before being taken to the Police station. Richard walked into the kitchen and then into the lounge. There was a commotion as an officer had to restrain Paul and then one of the half-naked girls got hysterical and started attacking a policewoman trying to encourage her to get dressed but the Inspector was happy; the rushed raid had not been a complete disaster. Jaroslav hadn't fled the country and he had more than enough evidence to charge him.

He looked out of the bay window and watched as a body dropped down in front of him. He banged on the glass and shouted at officers to go around the back.

Mikael ran past the house and started across the garden. He heard voices and looked behind him, he was being chased by two police man and one of them had two dogs. He swore, and doubled his speed, aiming for the gate that the burglars had come through.

Mikael had been awake and dressed as the Police officers arrived and although he had not seen the newspaper or even seen half of the local constabulary congregate outside his boss's home where he had stayed the night, knew instantly what was happening.

Mikael was always prepared for having to make a quick getaway and gripped the keys in his pocket. He had a key to the padlock on the gate and he had a hundred yard head-start although the dogs had closed that gap considerably.

The gate however, was in sight and panting he made it up the grassy slope and sorted the keys as he ran. He had the small key he needed and threw it into the lock. It clicked open and as the dogs converged on him, he had made it through the gate, and locked it as one of the dogs went for his fingers.

Mikael wasn't safe; he had a minute at best and he still had miles to go before he could reach any form of transport. He looked behind him, the gate was just out of sight and he dived into the field opposite. He couldn't see a Police helicopter but he couldn't rule out one being scrambled and ran across the thick vegetation that covered the field.

Mikael knew that if they got a Police helicopter in the sky then it would find his body heat easily with the infra-red cameras and looked at the wood a mile away. It would be easier to hide in dense foliage and it was tough on the legs but he had to make to the small wood.

Because in the wood, hidden in the middle of the trees was Mikael's escape kit, containing a false passport, money and a mobile phone. He had only put it there the month before as he was concerned that Jaroslav's criminal interests were beginning to unwind but knew if he could get to the wood, he could be free.

He could be en route to Buenos Aires, where he would put good money on Jamie Prutton and Emma Wallis trying to sell their loot.


Vicky glanced down the road; she knew she was being watched and by whom but it didn't change anything. She walked confidently towards the small corner shop and bought a bottle of wine before walking back to the house. She entered the house, turned her bedroom light on and drew the curtains; she wanted them to think she was staying in for the night. She placed the bottle of wine next to her packet suitcase on the bed, and quietly crept downstairs. The back door creaked when it was opened but she closed it gently and then silently slid open the back gate and began running down the alley. There was no-one about and she could see the 4x4 with its tinted windows through a gap in the houses, parked on the road.

Vicky continued down the pitch black alleyway and turned onto a path that crossed a small wood before giving way to a park. Within a few seconds she was into the wood, and finding her way to the back of the trees.

She reached into the hollow in a large Oak tree and located a small trowel that she had hidden and dug underneath one of its branches; the only light coming from the twilight which was barely able to penetrate the forest cover.

Vicky felt her heart racing and she frantically dug until she reached a small corner of a thick plastic bag and pulled it out. Mounds of soil landed over her trainers and she grunted as the wet earth clung to her treasure.

The Rubble Sack contained most of the bank notes Oliver had arrived with as well as the small figure and she shook it free from earth and then started fighting her way back to the footpath.

The sack was heavy and kept slipping from her grasp but she struggled home with it, and took it up to her room, before emptying its contents into her other suitcase, open on the bed. She looked at her alarm clock in her sparse room; it was 16:07. She had eight minutes and picked up her two suitcases taking them downstairs by the front door, along with her boarding pass and passport.

Vicky washed her hands and changed her clothes and then returned to the front door. Her hands were clammy, and she peered out through the letterbox; there was a space outside her house and she waited.

Two minutes later, a battered red Vauxhall Astra pulled up and she opened the door, grabbing her two bags and sprinted down the path. "Hambleton," she called out at the man nodded. Without looking down the street, she threw her bags into the back of the car and shouted. "Airport, quickly. I'm late."

Vicky pulled out a fifty pound note and passed it to the driver. "Tip if you can get me there in ten."

The taxi driver pulled out into the side street and Vicky glanced behind her; her early evening taxi ride had certainly caused her stalkers to follow her but she knew that they would.

Instead, she just locked her two doors and sat bolt upright as her mad taxi driver threw her into bends and navigated the streets of Aberdeen with worrying speed.

This did not seem to affect the car following her, they kept up with the madcap pace of the middle-aged man, who was swearing violently at his clapped out car. Vicky rubbed her hands together; her heart was beating furiously and she retied the bobble on her blonde hair.

Her watch said she had fifteen minutes to get checked in and she held on as the taxi slid around the corner and into the grounds of Aberdeen Airport. Vicky extracted two more notes and slid them to the driver as he straightened out. He grunted, his beady eyes barely leaving the road. "That's for the ride," she said with a grin and watched as he pulled up directly outside the small terminal.

She grabbed her bags, opened the door and sprinted inside, just as the two men following her leapt out of their car. She slapped her passport down on the counter with a boarding pass and the woman looked at Vicky trembling with her bags on the conveyor belt.

"London Heathrow and then onto Buenos Aires," the cheerful girl asked and Vicky, still panting nodded. Oliver wanted to travel to Argentina as he was sure it had no extradition treaty with the UK and Vicky liked that idea.

"Yeah, boyfriend out there," she lied and watched as two long thin pieces of paper were fastened to her cases.

"You have two minutes," she told her and nodded towards the departure gate.

Vicky eyed the two men inching towards the gate to apprehend her when a man coughed.

"Excuse me, madam, did you pack these bags yourself?"

Vicky squeaked. "What?"

"Did you pack these bags yourself, madam?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean, sort of," she shrieked and watched as Andrei and Dmitri melted away. She looked back at the interested man, his hand on both of her bags. "It's sort of complicated."

"Come with me please," he muttered and Vicky swore under her breath.


Oliver opened the paper from his hospital bed and smiled. The exclusive Chrissy Fuller had certainly got a lot of the newspaper. She was on the front page, as well as pages four, five, six and seven. "Sex Trafficking: The Truth" had a picture of the Ukrainian followed by intimate dealings of his operations.

Chrissy had certainly done her research from the information Oliver had given her. Pages four and five had how the girls were being trafficked across several European states and how the haulier had been getting them past corrupt Border Agency staff. The other two pages was how Jaroslav treated his girls and how they lived, with photos and interviews from two of the sex trafficked girls. Oliver licked his lips and looked up at the nurse coming to see him. She had clearly put in many days of work and he was begrudgingly impressed.

"How are you feeling Mr Prutton?"

"Fine," he muttered and the trainee nurse smiled at him.

"We'll soon have you out of here," she told him and flashed him a smile.

"Not that fine," he quickly responded and she giggled at him, flicking her long blonde hair out of her face. "That's my old boss," Oliver said pointing at Jaroslav in the paper. "He is a nasty piece of work."

The student nurse rubbed her nose and smiled, looking at the picture in the paper. "He your criminal genius."

Oliver sighed. "Not quite, we broke into his vault and nicked some statues. He wasn't happy with us, but he's been trafficking girls. I told her about it." He pointed to a small photo of Chrissy Fuller in the by-line. "She came to visit me on remand." He turned to a smaller item on page eighteen. "And she. She double-crossed me. She told me she loved me and she nicked all the money I had nicked. But she just lied."

The nurse smiled. "Do you know everyone in the paper today?"

Oliver scowled and turned it over. "Feels like it," he admitted. "It's good to see them arrested though."

The young nurse picked up Oliver's medical chart and cocked her head. "You're lucky to be alive, you know that. You came so close to being killed"

"I got stabbed," Oliver replied. "I guess that's not recommended."

She smiled and nodded as a female Police Officer entered the private room; she had been outside when the nurse had come in and stood waiting in the doorway as she attended to the patient. "You OK?" She asked the nurse.

"Fine," the young lady responded with a grin and tapped on the newspaper. "He's been showing me his old boss, and his old girfriend."

"You flirting with her again?" She cocked her head and looked at Oliver, her short hair and battle-hardened face breaking into a smile. "She is too innocent for you."

"Me? Not likely."

"You might like to know that your cell-mate has lost his genitalia," she told him and Oliver looked at the Police Officer, a WPC Trott, with a disinterested smirk.

"As he was trying to rape me I am not likely to offer much sympathy, am I?" He said coldly.

The two women looked at each other and the nurse touched the machine monitoring his blood pressure. "Well he's on the mend. He'll be out of here by the end of the week. The Doctor will be 'round soon."

 
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