INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST
Jack Jones sat in a cold room facing the small window south of the room, that brought little light in, as he watched the occasional shadows of birds flying by. Sudden movements under the door way followed by faint echoes from stranger's voices heard, he could make out, there was a struggle going on.
Jack Jones sat in thought, trying to familiarise himself with his present seating, after a while of stretching his very ear loop to eaves drop, still with bemusement hanging on his face, fear and trepidation laying suit, suddenly all the voices he was hearing went quite. A phone rang and then a lone voice from a distance was heard, no names used, all he could make out was 'yes sir', 'consider it done sir'.
Footsteps moved closer to the door and a voice shouted out, "put your bloody mask on before you go in there". Then another replied, ‘who cares he is dead come tomorrow anyway’. Jack Jones' heart beat, went into a hist as the footsteps moved closer. The door handle was held from the outside, it moved down, with a push on the door, in came a 6ft 9 inches structure of a man. He had his face covered with a black mask, making him look more terrifying than any boggy man Jack Jones had ever seen in nightmares before.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" asked the man. Quickly, Jack Jones looked away, staring down on the old concrete floor, concentrating on an old damp stained shaped in abstract, left for the imagination to make of it what it chooses to, after he caught the strangers darkened eyes through the mask.
He grabbed Jack Jones by the head, passed a phone to him and shouted out in command, "once the phone has been answered, say hi Dad and nothing else, or else you are dead". Jack Jones waited for a second or two, it felt like forever, then he heard a voice ‘hello’ he replied "hello" he heard a voice shouting in the background, it sounded like that of his Mother, ‘Son son oh son are you alright?’ The masked man with deep intent looked at him, Jack Jones could feel the strange looking man's eyes, drilling straight through him with anger. He replied "yes Mother", then the kidnapper snatched the phone from Jack Jones's shaky hands.
The strange man, walked straight out, he slammed the door behind him, Jack Jones overheard as the man said to another "stay on guard" his footsteps moved further and further away from the basement room, where Jack Jones was held. Soon the rain came, the floor started getting wet as the room became colder and darker. Jack Jones began dozing off, after fighting his whole body to stay alert, he lost the battle with the emotional and physical excursion that besieged him.
A silent voice in his head rang out, so loud it felt like a siren saying ‘come tomorrow he is dead’. Jack Jones opened his eyes in a state of shock from sleep, almost jumping out of his body, as he remembered what he had heard one of the kidnappers say earlier on. He went towards the window tried pushing and pulling it, but nothing happened.
Jack Jones could barely see anything the room was now completely dark, close to pitch black. He slowly made his way to the door, with the help of the little ray of light that was coming in from under the door way. He placed his ears closer to the door, minutes later he heard someone snoring. Jack Jones held the door handle, pushed it down slowly. One of the kidnappers was sitting on a chair next to the door, fast asleep.
Jack Jones looked around and saw a staircase, slowly he climbed up the stairs. there was a figure sitting in another room, facing the television. A report of his kidnapping had just been announced and a ransom of £100,000 with a deadline had just been asked, from The Daily Sunset newspaper where he worked. He moved on quickly telling himself “ move, before you get caught”.
The back-door was opened in the kitchen. In the dark compound Jack Jones, could see the sparkle of a cigarette, as a third kidnapper pulled on it, with every inch of his breath. The third Kidnapper was far from the door and had his back facing the door. Jack Jones sneaked out not knowing where he was. Looking over the horizon, he saw the city light. He headed out of the compound towards the light, with hopes of getting help there, once he made it out.
As he moved carefully through the woods dancing around the sharp thorns, sticking out gagging for his blood, a dog started barking. The third kidnapper smoking outside turned and saw Jack Jones. He shouted in a foreign language as the other two came running out, they all had guns and a fourth kidnapper, up on the first floor of the house, shouted out, "get the night-vision glasses and search for him, Fuck! stupid fools" he added.
The dog was still barking at Jack Jones' direction, as he laid low under some bushes. He had to move as he was still quite close to be shot at. Now he was caught between a rock and a hard place. It was clear if he didn’t move soon, he could be caught and if he moved, he could be shot. Jack Jones had to make a decision, he jumped out of the bush, to make his great escape, by then he realized they were on a hill. Jack Jones started running down the hill.
One of the kidnappers saw him, as he came out of hiding in an effort to escape, the guy shouted out, for the others. This time Jack Jones could make out it was an Eastern-European accent which sounded like Russian. But to his uneducated ears of the dialect and language from that region, all sounded similar. The dogs were let out, two German-shepherds, the hunt was on and Jack Jones was the hunted. He started running down the woodlands descending the hill at a very fast pace, ignoring the thorns from the wild bushes around, that went on a feast on his lanky legs, arms and face.
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