The couriers Martin Kane A simple job: pick up the man and deliver him to a friendly face. --- Author's note: Anyone wishing to contact me may do so via the DtV messageboard for Readers & Writers. I invite anyone to send any comments, good or bad, should they wish to. I'm always interested in what others think of my little tales. I'll abstain from the adult content warning, if you've got this far, you're certain to know what kind of thing to expect anyway. Anyone who’s seen the charming Irish crime flick 'I went down' will almost certainly recognise some of the situations depicted here. I justify this blatant rip-off of material by calling it homage and by acknowledging the theft here. --- Mr Rogers introduced Josh to Bunny. She was a tall woman, striking with her sharp, angular features and sleek wash of dark hair. She nodded carelessly. Josh stepped up to her, noting the half-foot difference in their heights. It didn’t bother him however, he’d always been fairly short for his height and besides, he compensated in breadth. He was pretty broad, coming from a background in rugby. "Bunny. Josh," Mr Rogers introduced, his weasely face chewing over the words as was his habit. "You both know how I work so I’m gonna keep this simple. If you fuck up..." he pointed at Bunny. "It’s his fault. If you fuck up..." Josh. "It’s her fault. Your excuses are your own. I don’t want to hear from you unless you’re calling to tell me that everything’s gone down OK. OK?" They both nodded, looking absurdly like scolded schoolchildren. "Good. Now get the fuck out of here." They left. "This is us," Josh said motioning to a dark brown beaten up car. He didn’t unlock it, just opening it and getting in the driver’s side. Bunny got into the passenger seat. The car was lived in, scuffed and used. Sweet wrappers stuffed into the ashtray. Josh eased the car away from the empty pub where Mr Rogers ran his various businesses. Bunny made herself comfortable and slid the belt across. "Should take a good few hours to get there," Josh stated conversationally. Bunny just murmured noncommittally. She didn’t seem happy to be here. Mind you, if it came to that, nor was he. Still, no use in complaining, this was the situation they were in. "Why do they call you Bunny?" "It’s my name," she stated bluntly, not looking away from the passing trees and fields that swept past her window. Josh shrugged. He thumbed the tape player and it began blasting watery pop-rap into their faces. "Turn that shit off," Bunny said, her voice cold but offering no doubt that she wasn’t expecting to have to argue. "What," Josh said, making no motion to do so, "you don’t like rap?" She answered in action, yanking the tape out of the player and crushing it in one smooth motion. She wound down the window and tossed out the crumpled remains, a stream of plastic tape flying in the wind between her fingers. She shook it free and wound the window back up. Josh was shocked by this action but tried to keep it cool. "I’ll take that as a no then shall I?" She didn’t reply. "Look, don’t think that just because you’re a chick that it gives you any special privileges or anything." This hung in the air. Bunny was completely unmoved. Josh just sighed and returned his full attention to the road. She seemed to realise that she was being a little off with him after that and thawed slightly. She broke the silence. "What do you know about this job then?" "Just what he told us this morning, go get the man and deliver him to the friendly face." "And is he likely to protest the fact?" "Rogers said he was a friendly face. He shouldn’t protest." "Yeah, I heard that one before," Bunny muttered doubtfully. As the sun arced its way over them, the day grew warmer. The road was completely dry now from the night’s heavy rain. Bunny wriggled out of her coat, tugging it free from her legs and tossing it onto the back seat. Through force of habit, Josh glanced across at her chest, checking out her form. She was wearing a loose fitted knit sweater that revealed nothing of her figure. "What you looking at?" she demanded, but her tone was the same careless coldness, as perfunctory as his surreptitious glance had been. "Your sweater," he answered automatically. "My wife likes mauve, I was thinking of getting her something like that for her birthday. Where did you get it?" "It was a gift," she dismissed, not entirely believing him but not caring enough to pursue the point. The offence hadn’t been that great. The car wove its way through villages and towns, spending most of the time on the major roads that cut through the countryside. They passed fields and wasteland, hills and farmlands. Occasional pylons floated by them. They pulled in at the next village they, finding a petrol station. The forecourt was empty; Josh pulled up and got out. Bunny also got out, stretching her legs for the first time in hours. Her joints clicked and popped as she eased them into motion. "I’ll fill her up," Josh said, walking to the back of the car. "Get us some fags. Silk Cut." Bunny nodded and headed over to the shop. "And something to eat as well," he called after her. She wandered around the store, picking up a few bit and pieces. A couple of cans, bottled water, crisps, some pies, packaged sandwiches. She dumped the load on the counter where a bored cashier began ringing them up as though this break in his busy schedule was the most inconsiderate of impositions. "You want a bag?" he murmured, not meeting her eyes. "Yeah," she said, biting down a smart comment. His glance made it up as far as her chest. She couldn’t be sure if this was lechery or lethargic indifference. "Give us twenty Silk Cut and whatever he’s got out there." "Huh?" There was only one car on the forecourt, it couldn’t be that hard. Josh was still standing there by the pump. The kid elaborated. "He’s not put nothing in there," he told her. Bunny looked up at this, surprised. Her eyes narrowed as a horrible suspicion came over her. "I’ll be right back," she said and went out to the car. Josh was working with two bits of wire, swearing as he fiddled with the lock on the petrol-cap. "It’s stolen?" Josh didn’t answer. Bunny turned and glanced at the cashier at his station. He was peering curiously at them. She gave him a friendly wave, assuring him that all was OK. "You know what this looks like?" she said through a false smile, "it looks like we stole this car." Josh swore again. "Look, this isn’t easy," he hissed. "And when you’ve got people standing over your shoulder, that don’t make it any easier." After more swearing, he finally managed to pull the cap free. He thrust it angrily into her hands. "Fill it up," he said and stomped towards the shop. Bunny filled the tank, looking around her as she waited. It was a quiet little village, the road they had come in from getting maybe one passing car a minute. It reminded her of her own hometown, which wasn’t actually all that far from here. She replaced the nozzle and debated a moment whether to re-secure the petrol-cap. She shrugged and screwed it back on then walked over to the shop. When she entered she saw Josh, standing the other side of the counter. He was opening the cupboards back there and swearing each time they failed to reveal what he wanted. "Where’s the kid?" she asked. Then saw him, on the floor, wrists and ankles bound together with duct-tape. Another strip sealed his mouth. His eyes were blazing with fear. "Shit." Josh handed her his handgun. "Keep it on him." He headed into a tiny adjacent office. He found what he was looking for, a monitor. It sat on a large cupboard that he forced open. He swore at what he saw inside. The video recorder was there OK but it was locked inside a metal cage. The cage was secured to the wall itself. He tugged at the bars uselessly then went storming out to the front of the shop. Josh walked up to the petrified kid and grabbed him by the lapels. "Where’s the fucking key?" he demanded. "Oye," Bunny hollered at him. "What’s the problem." "Security cage around the video. This little bastard’s about to tell us where the key is." The kid was trying to talk despite the fact his mouth was sealed with tape. He was shaking his head frantically, manic with panic. "Put him down," Bunny hissed. It was a voice that didn’t expect to be disobeyed. Josh dropped him and turned to her. She handed back his gun. "Take this, go start the car, I’ll get the tape." He started to protest but her expression was insistent. She handed him the bag of food. "And take this too." Josh went back to the car. Thumped the steering wheel and cursed wildly. He took a breath and started the car. Bunny was out after him in only a few moments. She had the videocassette in her hand. He didn’t hide his surprise. "How did you get that cage open?" he demanded. "Muscle," she said. "You think we should maybe get the fuck out of here?" He shook himself and pulled the car out of the village. "We’ll dump this thing first chance we get, grab something else." They swapped cars and continued the journey without major problems. "How did you get that cage open?" he asked again once they were clear of immediate or obvious danger. "Told you," she said, biting into a sandwich. "Muscle. I may not look it at first glance, but my arms are thicker than your average chick’s thighs." He looked at her, trying to gauge the truth of this claim even through the concealing sweater. "Watch the road! Jesus, I’ll show you later if you’re that fascinated but try not to kill us." "You’re one of them bodybuilders?" "Well that is the most common way of getting muscles." He wanted to pursue this further but stopped then as they come up against a junction. "What’s the problem?" she asked. "Straight over." Josh didn’t move however. He was pondering the route. "That’ll take us back onto A-roads," he said. "Maybe we should stick to the smaller roads." Bunny just shrugged. "Whatever. You know a route?" "Well if we head off down here, it’s bound to take us back parallel." She gave him a cautionary glance. "Let’s stick to a path we know, huh?" A car had pulled up behind them and was now impatiently honking them. Josh waved them to pass, irritably. They were the only two cars in sight on any of the roads, right to the horizon. He pondered a few more moments then turned the car, heading down the smaller, unknown track. It was maybe half an hour later, the road having deteriorated into little more than a dirt track, that Josh finally admitted to having been wrong. "Look, just turn us around and let’s head back, there’s no way this is going to rejoin the main roads." "Well this has got to lead somewhere," he insisted. "I don’t want to backtrack that far." The road got progressively worse, the car having to slow to a crawl as the rumbled onwards. They hadn’t seen another vehicle since getting onto this road. "Stop the car," Bunny told him. He did so. Getting out, she climbed the small verge of dirt besides the road and looked across the wasted field. "There’s a road the other side of the field," she stated, screwing her eyes up. Josh joined her and squinted in the direction she indicated. "You sure?" "Hundred percent. Next opportunity, turn left, try to get us over there." "OK." They got back in but the road offered no suggestion that it would join with its companion. They’d gone a few more miles with no better luck when the bushes besides the road began to thin and the field to their left turned to wasteland. Josh stopped the car again. "What?" Bunny asked him. "That road still over there?" She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?" The field was a bed of mud. The hot sun had yet to dry out the waterlogged mess. Within a hundred yards across the field, the car was coated in dirty splatters of mud. The car bucked and juggled, unused to such harsh terrain. "This is a bad idea," Bunny insisted but it was too late to turn back. They’d got halfway across, the road actually in sight, when the car took a dip and stayed in it. Josh hammered the accelerator, spraying a splay of mud across the car. They were stuck. Bunny sighed wearily. She knew what was coming next. She clicked off the seatbelt. "I’ll push," Josh offered. "No, you’re alright. I’ll do it." "You take the wheel, I’ll push it," Josh insisted. "Why, cause you’re the guy?" Josh hesitated, trying to think of a way to say yes without using the word. "Flex your biceps," Bunny told him. "What?" "You want to push the car? I’m just proving a point. Flex your biceps." Josh shrugged and rolled up one sleeve. He cranked his arm, flexing a pretty respectable muscle, round and solid. Bunny nodded, suitably impressed. Then she lifted up her sweater, pulling her arm free of the sleeve and out under cover. She flexed a biceps muscle that made Josh’s look like a child. Huge and hard, a peak of sheer brute strength. "Shit," Josh muttered, awed by the magnitude. "When you said you have muscles, I never thought you meant that!" The argument settled, Bunny got out of the car, pushing it free of the mud while Josh leaned on the accelerator. They arrived in the town in the afternoon. There was a small collection of main streets and they picked the most likely. They found the pub almost immediately and pulled up across the road from it. "Well, you’re up," Bunny told him. "You want me to get the man?" "You don’t expect a woman to walk into a pub on her own do you?" He raised an eyebrow at this but didn’t make any comment. "I’m in a state," she amended. It was true; she was still covered in mud, which stained everything she came into contact with. At least it had begun to dry now. Josh nodded and got out the car. The interior of the pub was a cool contrast to the warmth of the afternoon. Josh glanced around and walked over to the bar, sitting at it. It was hard not to be self-conscious in a place like this. The only other patrons were clearly regulars. It was small, a few tables, a bar, a pool table that seemed an extravagance considering the limited space. A barman stood, seeming disproportionately large, or was that just that the bar itself was small? Either way, he was a big man, meaty and bulky in a years of big dinners kind of way. He was taller than Josh and probably matched him in brawn. The other patrons watched him suspiciously. One at the other end of the bar, a couple more sitting at a table. All were aged somewhere between forty and sixty and looked like manual labourers. "Pint of Best," he ordered, pulling a note from his wallet. The barman poured it without comment and placed it in front of Josh. "I was wondering if you could help actually. I’m looking for an old friend of mine, moved in around here maybe three years back. Drinks here I believe. Name of Matthew, oldish guy, mid-fifties, shock of white hair." The barman didn’t say anything at this. He glanced across at the guy at the other end of the bar and the exchanged a look. The man stood. "You better come this way," he said and headed through a door into a back room. Rather dubiously, Josh followed. Bunny sat in the car and waited. She grabbed her coat and pulled a mobile out of the pocket. She tried to get a signal. She failed and replaced the mobile. She waited. She opened the glove-box, shifting through its contents nosily. Nothing caught her fancy. She drummed her hands on the dash. She glanced over at the pub. She wondered ideally to herself. She whistled 'Stay' by Shakespear’s Sister all the way through, each verse and chorus. "Fuck it," she muttered and went into the pub after him. It Josh had reason to be self-conscious when he entered the pub, then Bunny certainly had reason. The fact that she was a woman was part of it, the fact that she strode with aggressive purpose also contributed. However, the fact that she was quite obviously a bodybuilder, clad in a T-shirt that clung to every bulging curve was what really made her stand out. She stood in the doorway, silhouetting the sunlight, hands on hips. "Hey guys," she cooed. "I’m looking for my husband. He wandered in here a few moments ago. Just making sure he hasn’t gotten himself lost. You know what men are like." She spotted the door the led to the back of the pub. It was closed. She headed straight for it. A bulky arm barred her path. "You can’t go back there," the man told her. He was as tall as her and also as broad. To anyone else, this would probably have been intimidating. "Go back to your car, I’m sure you’re husband will be along soon." "Can’t do that," she apologised. "Now you want to step aside or will I have to ask you again?" From his punch-drunk perspective, Josh thought he heard a commotion outside in the main part of the pub. He heard shouting and swearing. He heard breaking furniture. The tall guy who had been beating on him heard it too, turning away from his victim to the old man who stood watching. "What the fuck’s that?" the tall thug asked. The old guy, Matthew, just shrugged, handing him a towel. The thug wiped the blood off his hands and strode over to the door. It burst open before he reached it, the lock ripping half the frame off with it. The top hinge came off and the whole door fell forward, snapping the lower one too. The figure that burst in on them looked like a hired heavy, bulk and blatant muscle. But to his amazement, it was a woman. He just stood there, rooted to the spot in shock as she trampled over the fallen door, straight for him. Someone came up behind her, swinging a pool cue like a bat. She saw him and managed to half block it, smashing the wooden pole. She kicked the guy, a solid smack in the balls. Even if that hadn’t put him down she followed with a piledriver punch that just had to split bone. The distraction gave the tall thug time to shake off his wonder at this strange muscle-woman and retrieve the tire-iron that lay on the table. She turned her attention to him and he saw violence in her eyes. She came at him. He swung the iron but she ducked back. She was fast. He tried again, stepping in close. She caught the blow against the inside of one huge upper arm, then wrapped her heavy biceps around the weapon. Her fist sinking into his belly. It felt like a cannonball. He would have gone down then, defeated, but she caught him as he sank to the floor. She took the tire-iron and pressed it up against his throat. He couldn’t see what she was doing but felt the cold metal wrap around his neck. He saw her muscles strain and bulge like some obscene growth. Then she stepped back, releasing him. Without her support, he collapsed to the floor. The tire-iron was still about his throat. She’d bent it around him, folding the metal in her bare hands. He’d have been more shocked by this careless display of strength but unconsciousness overtook him then. Bunny walked to the chair where Josh was bound. She bent down over him, reaching her thick arms around him, almost as though she intending to crush him in a bearhug. Instead she wrapped her hands about his wrists, encompassing the steel bracelets that held him. There was a low crick as she ripped the handcuffs apart, snapping the chain with ease. She stood up and pulled the handgun from her jeans, handing it to him. He it and turned on Matthew. Matthew had backed into a corner, watching the rescue with fear. He cowered as Josh took the gun and rammed it into the old man’s throat. He screamed obscenities at him, letting the rage pour out. Matthew winced, rightfully scared. Bunny gave him a few moments to unleash his fury then stepped in. "It’s OK, keep it cool. Let’s get out of here." Josh took the handcuff key from the table and freed himself. He rubbed his wrists where the metal had bitten them. He led Matthew at gunpoint out to the car, oblivious of being out in the open. However, the street was deserted. Josh opened the boot and gestured inside with the gun. "What? Not the boot man, come on, I’m an old man." "Get in," Josh said, his cool having now returned. "I’ll suffocate," he protested but climbed carefully into the car, laying down and hunching to fit. "At least give me some air holes." Josh cut him off by slamming the boot down. He pocketed the gun and went to the front of the car. He went to the passenger side. "I think you should drive," he said and then passed out. Bunny soaked herself gratefully. It wasn’t a particularly grand hotel but the rooms had baths and that was good enough for her. If felt so good to clean that mud off. She changed in the bathroom and stepped back into the room clothed. Josh was examining his cleaned face in the mirror. Bruises were forming but the bulk of the damage had been made on his body. "Don’t worry," she told him, "you’ll be pretty again. Just not for a while, that’s all." Matthew lay on the bed, tied securely in place. His arms were tied at his side, a piece of tape over his mouth. Josh looked up at her, a smart-ass comment on his lips. It didn’t get any further as he took in the sight of a dolled up female bodybuilder. She’d put a blouse on, silky and slight. She’d cracked it to show off a little cleavage. It was short sleeved so her most prominent assets were also displayed to their full advantage. Muddy jeans were replaced with an elegance skirt, also short enough to show off muscle, the sharp peaks of bulging calves. "Oh shit." "What do you think?" she asked, giving him a twirl. "You actually look pretty good," he said, accidentally telling the truth. He caught himself and tried to pull his foot out of his mouth. "I mean, for a... that you know, you look good even though you’re..." "A muscle-bound freak?" she offered helpfully, no offence apparent in her voice. Josh blushed, sunk. "I didn’t mean..." he tried but she waved him off. "It’s OK," she told him. "I am actually aware that my rather unorthodox appearance isn’t to everyone’s tastes. If it’s any consolation, you’re not exactly my type either." They headed down to the hotel bar. Josh sat back in the comfortable padding the chair, his battered body aching all over. Bunny walked up and joined him, placing a pint in front of him. He took it gratefully, taking a slow, heavy draft. "Thanks. You know, if this is women’s lib, I think I could get used to it." "What, being waited on, as though I were a maid?" The hotel was quiet, the bar almost empty. It was mid week, off- season, so there was nothing strange about that. "How you feeling now?" she asked. "Better. Much better. I used to play rugby so I’m used to getting bashed about a bit." "Rugby huh? That’s where the build comes from." "Yeah. What about you then? You’re hardly anorexic yourself." "I was never particularly sporty. This is vanity. It all came from a gym, neatly packaged in diet and training. I used to be a little chubby and coveted the body beautiful girls in magazines. I grew to like the more athletic type and so, when I finally made the decision to reshape my figure, I went for excess." "Well you certainly achieved it." They sat in silence a while. Not awkward or uncomfortable silence but a relaxed period of rest, enjoying the atmosphere and the alcohol. A woman walked across the room, up to the bar. She was tall and slim, a dress adhering tightly to smooth but voluptuous curves. The knowingly assured motion of her stride was catwalk confident, giving a sharp sway to her hips and a subtle bounce to her sizeable bosom. Josh watched her hungrily, enjoying the visual poetry of her body in motion. His eyes followed her, head turning as she past. Once he’d peeled his eyes away from her figure he looked at Bunny, about to apologise, expecting to receive a tut or eyeball rolling. Instead, he noticed that Bunny was also watching the woman, the same mild pleasure registered on her smile. She caught Josh’s gaze and shrugged. "When you said I’m not your type..." Josh began, a smile drawing across his face. Bunny just smiled, confirmation enough. "Why? You’re not about to get all homophobic on me are you?" "No," he assured her. "As me old mum used to say, ‘there’s nought as queer as folk.’" This bought him a wry smile. "Can I ask you a question?" he began gently. "You need permission?" "A personal question." "You can always ask." "Why do you work for Rogers?" Bunny sighed and sank back in her seat. "You first." "OK," he agreed, and then began. "A friend of mine owed Rogers some money. Rogers sent his goons to remind him he was overdue making a payment. I happened to be around when it went down and I refused to turn my back on my friend." "What happened?" "They got rough so I did what I had to do. We’d been drinking so I happened to have a glass in my hand. One of the goons lost an eye." "Rogers didn’t take it well?" "He called it loss of earning. Said I could either pay him in cash a set amount, else I’d have to work it off. Hence." Bunny nodded, it sounded like the man she knew. "You got much left to pay off?" Josh shrugged. "Couple more jobs like this one I suppose. Depends how serious each one is, how much he knocks off the debt. What about you?" She sighed. "I started a long time ago. I was sixteen. My Dad threw a mental when he discovered what I was, threw me out. I had no money, no chance on my own. A friend of mine worked as a dancer at one of Henry Phillips’ clubs. She took me in and then got me a job dancing." "Dancing?" "Stripping." "Can’t have been pleasant." She shrugged. "Not especially but it could have been worse. It was money. The manager was OK but the place itself was pretty dingy. It can be unpleasant being pawed and groped all the time. Not to mention that it’s hard to serve drinks in high heeled boots. On your feet all night is one thing but those boots were invented as a torture device, I swear it. "Anyways, I’d started hitting the gym, trying to get rid of the puppy fat and slim down, but I’d actually given myself a little muscle. Things got out of hand at the club one night and when this guy pushed it too far I lay him out. Guess I didn’t know my own strength. The guy got knocked out, his jaw had to be wired back together. "Phillips took it remarkably well. He was a pretty dodgy character in his day, but for some reason he didn’t come down on me like I thought he would. He just offered me a change of position. He said he could use someone who was tough enough to take care of themselves, regardless of circumstances. It wasn’t the fact that I’d taken a guy down that impressed itself upon him, but that I’d done it to one of his clients in one of his clubs and anyone who does something like that just knows they’re gonna get slaughtered because of it. It was the fact that I did it anyway." "In other words, he wants someone who’s capable of jumping in with both feet first." Bunny smiled cynically at this. "Pretty much," she agreed. "But it’s easy to look back now and say that. At the time, I was grateful for another chance and just so relieved that there was no comeback." "So when Phillips was muscled out of business and Rogers took over everything..." Josh began. "I was given a choice, same as you. Buy out my contract, recompense for all the damage he says I’d cost him while doing heavy jobs for Phillips, or work for him." "Any chance you’ll ever be free?" "Unlikely," she sighed. "But then, it’s an easy enough life. It’s what I know. Rogers is an arsehole but he takes care of his own. It’s not like I want for anything." "Morality?" "Not an issue I deal with often," she admitted. "Yes, I’ve hurt people. But then, take a soldier for example. Where’s their morality? I’ve never shot anyone. Never invaded any tiny countries without means of defending themselves, just because my government strikes a deal with some rich dictator whose name I can’t even pronounce. I’ve never pressed a button that drops a bomb on a city." "Ever killed anyone?" She sighed again, feeling weary. "You know what it’s like. You’re in a fight, it’s them or us. There may not necessarily be guns but they’ve got pipes, knuckles, clubs. What are you supposed to do? Hold back. No, if you hit someone, you aim to take them down. You can’t take care not to hit anything vulnerable, pull your punches - life’s not like that. Have I ever killed anyone? In all honesty? Probably." He nodded. He knew what it was like all right. "You?" she asked. He nodded again. "A fight, like you said. Guy pinned me from behind, another guy coming on me with a cricket-bat. I butted backwards, the guy holding me, crushed his nose. Punched out the one with the bat, them elbowed back again, before he could retaliate. I caught him in the throat. Heavy. It wasn’t our territory, so we just got the fuck out of there first chance we could. I heard a few days later that two of them had died. One from internal injuries, that wasn’t me, but the other one was the guy I’d got in the throat. Jammed the Adam’s-apple into his windpipe." "And how do you feel about that?" "At the time, just sort of weird. Empty. Disconnected. Now? I don’t really think about it much. Wish it hadn’t happened but then, he would have killed me had I given him the chance." Silence hang after this confession. Bunny finally broke it. "Come on. Enough of this sombre shite. It’s your round." And he got the drinks in and that moved the topic of discussion to more cheery subjects, such as the rugby. The night ended, in the bar at least, a few drinks later. Josh remarking on the sleek woman they had seen earlier. She was now sitting alone at a nearby table. "She keeps looking over here," Josh said, excitedly. "Hate to tell you this, Honey, but it’s not you she’s looking at." "How do you know," Josh asked, trying to keep the indignant tone out of his voice but failing miserably. "Because she’s been glancing over here all night, and unlike you, I’ve been returning the eye contact." Josh’s face dropped and Bunny tried not to giggle. "Don’t be too disappointed. One of us has to baby-sit anyway." By the time they’d finished their drinks, it was concluded. Josh reluctantly returned to his room alone while Bunny sat opposite the woman, making what appeared to be highly provocative small talk. As he passed the table he noticed that the woman’s hand was on Bunny’s powerful thigh, fingers playing under the short skirt. "Lucky cow," he muttered to himself and huffed off. They set off early the next morning. Matthew was still tied but the gag was off and he sat in the back of the car, not the boot. Josh drove and Bunny consulted the map. "OK, we still want to steer clear of main roads but let’s avoid the short-cuts this time." "Will you at least tell me where I’m being taken?" Matthew insisted. "If you don’t shut it you’ll be back in the boot," Josh hissed, still sore about the previous day. Bunny however, was in better spirits. She hushed Josh then turned to their captor. "You don’t have to worry," she assured him. "Rogers just wants to sort things out with you. Amicably. We’re to take you to see a friendly face." "Who says he’s friendly? Do I say he’s friendly? Don’t I get to say who’s my friend and who isn’t?" "I’ve had enough of your friends for a lifetime, thank you very much." "I’m really sorry about that, they took it too far, I’ll admit. But you’ve got to understand that the stakes we’re dealing with are high. You may have been told its gonna be amicable but I know Rogers. I know what he wants from me. If you do this, then you’ll have murder on your hands." "Well if it’ll shut you up then I’ll happily live with it," Josh snapped. Matthew was silent. He gave it twenty minutes, no one saying a word, then tried again. "I can pay you. I’m not asking you to be out of pocket or anything. Whatever he’s paying you I can double. All you have to do is let me go. Tell the man that you couldn’t find me. That I’d already done a runner." "Not gonna happen," Bunny told him. "We’re not for sale. I’ve told you what’s going down, now live with it." "OK," Matthew agreed. "I’m sorry but I have to try. I’ll drop it now. Just answer me one question, will you do that?" She just looked at him, cold, not prepared to commit to even that. "If your job had been to find me, take me out into the woods and put a bullet into the back of my head. Would you do that?" "Happily," Josh sneered. Both Bunny and Matthew ignored him however, their eyes locked onto each others. "Could you do that?" Matthew insisted, imploringly. "No," she finally admitted. She sat back in her seat and the silence around them all resumed. Presently they stopped to get breakfast. Another petrol station. The pulled up in the furthest corner from the shop. Josh warned Matthew to behave. "Any funny shit from you and you’ll be back in the trunk for the rest of the journey. Clear?" As soon and he and Bunny were outside the car he spoke to her in an urgent whisper. "What you want to talk to him for. You know he’s just gonna try and twist things. I don’t blame him for it but of course he’s gonna lie, he doesn’t want to face the music." "What should I do then?" she replied, tartily. "Just don’t encourage him. Don’t listen to him." "What if it’s true?" "It doesn’t matter. We just drop him off and then we go home. That’s the end of it. He made his own bed and now he has to lie in it." They bought a breakfast and took it back to the car. "That’s great," Matthew said, sounding genuine. "Thanks. Last meal of the condemned man." "Quit it." "I just want you to acknowledge what it is you’re doing. If you gonna take part in murder, at least have the common courtesy to admit as much to the victim." "OK, let’s get on," Josh said, switching on the engine. He pulled the car violently into action and headed out onto the road. "Tell me something," Matthew said. "Where are we going? Where are we supposed to meet this friendly face?" Neither one answered him. "Is it an old hard-grounded caravan, edge of a field next to the woods? It is, isn’t it? That’s where Rogers takes people. I know the man, I’ve know how he does business." Matthew let the silence hang. "OK, then tell me this. You ever killed anyone before?" The car screeched to a halt. Josh whipped around in his seat. "That’s it," he screamed. "In two hours we are dropping you off exactly where we were told to. If you say another fucking word before then, you’re going straight back into the boot." The car had stalled. He restarted it and the drove on in silence. Two hours is a long time for an uncomfortable silence but no one uttered a sound throughout that long journey. Josh consulted his directions and pulled the car into a field, a rough dirt track that was overgrown and rarely used. At the far end of the field was fixed caravan. Beyond that, trees swamped the horizon. He stopped the car fifty yards down from the caravan and got out. "Stay," he told Bunny. "I’ll check it out." He walked to the caravan. As soon as he’d left, Matthew began again, just as she knew he would. He didn’t whine or plead, he simply asked her a question. "Would you leave a man to die. Would you walk away, knowing that you’re the only one who could step in and prevent a murder. Would you be the sort of person who could do that?" "No," she told him. "No I wouldn’t." Matthew sighed. "That’s all I needed to know." Josh returned. "This is it," he said, poking his head through the window. "Laughing boy, you’re up." "I’ll walk him in," Bunny told him. "You sure?" "I’m sure." He got back into the driver seat. "Just know that I’m waiting here for five minutes then I’m gone." "Fair enough." Bunny got out and pulled open the back door. Matthew stumbled out, doing the best he could with bound hands. She walked him silently towards the caravan, hand clutching his shoulder. She pushed him inside, through the narrow door. "Hello?" "In here," a voice answered. The man sat on the built-in sofa, arms spread in a faked casual ease. He wore a smart suit, so out of place in the squalid setting. Matthew turned to her. "I don’t know him," he hissed. "That’ll do," the man said, his voice flat. "Sit down Matthew, we’ve got a lot to discuss." And then to Bunny. "That’ll be all." "It’s not that simple," Bunny told him, sounding almost apologetic. "You see, my instructions were to deliver him to a friendly face." "I’m friendly," the man insisted, smiling in a manner that most definitely wasn’t friendly. He stood, smoothing the lines of his suit off. "The man doesn’t know you," Bunny said. "That’s not part of the deal." "Well then," the man said slowly. "Perhaps if I called Mr Rogers. Would that make you feel a little better?" "No," Bunny told him. "As a matter of fact it wouldn’t." He moved like an animal, speed and fluid grace, pulling the gun from his suit so quickly that Bunny barely saw it. She was quick too, leaping forward the moment he flinched. But the gap between them had been measured for caution and the man wasn’t taking any chances. Bunny stopped herself mid-flight, the gun levelled squarely at her head. If she hadn’t have pulled back, she had little doubt that the suited man would have shot her where she stood. She remained frozen, mid-stride, as if any motion on her part would set the gun off. He stepped closer to her, the muzzle barely an inch from her glistening forehead. "How pathetic. Did he pay you to turn coat? Or even worse, don’t tell me, this is morality?" He laughed cruelly but didn’t let his attention waiver. "There’s a lot of it going about," Josh told him. The man looked beyond the woman to see Josh standing at the door, his own gun aimed. The distraction was all Bunny needed to continue her halted barrel forwards, twisting a little to catch the gun hand in the crook of her neck and shove the arm up, throwing his aim off. She landed on top of him with her weight precision balanced on one knee, the same knee that sank into his stomach. She grabbed the gun, wrapping her hand about his, and twisted it free. The crunch told her that he wouldn’t be holding anything in that hand again for a long time. He was groaning in agony but she was never one to take chances, swinging a punch down into his face, pulping his elegant features in one soggy blow. He was out cold, his face mashed beyond recognition. "Morality?" Josh asked her. "Karma," she told him, standing. "Course it does leave us with a little problem." Bunny smiled at him. "Yeah, I guess so." Josh laughed, absurdly pleased with himself. "Oh, you dumb bitch," he cursed affectionately. "What have you done to us?" "Much as I hate to interrupt this Hallmark moment," Matthew said. "But does one of you want to untie me?" "Don’t push your luck," Josh warned him. This sent Bunny into giggles. It was probably just a shock reaction but it felt good anyway. "It’s weird," Bunny told Josh later that night. Matthew was at the bar, getting in the next round. "I’ve just done the most stupid thing I have in years, but I feel better than I have in a long time." "Just think how I feel. I only had one more job to go and then I was free." "What you gonna do now?" "Dunno," he admitted. "I don’t want to move out, I’ve been around here for a long time. Too many ties. But it’ll be suicide not to. You?" "No ties, no need to stay." Matthew returned, placing three drinks on the table. "Well now, at least you left the man on your own terms," he told them both. "There’s more to be said for that than either of you can appreciate just yet. Come now, a toast." The three of them lifted their pints. "To the two of you," Matthew said. "To morality," Josh suggested. Bunny smiled then lifted her own glass. "To jumping in with both feet."