Hidden Agenda (Work In Progress)

Hi Everyone,

Here is chapter three of Hidden Agenda.  Enjoy. :)

Sara

Chapter Three


London, July, 1996

Alessandro opened his eyes and tried to focus in the dust filled darkness. The girl was coughing. He glanced back. There was no way they were getting out the way they came in without help. The side of the car was tilted towards them and the fallen brick had done its best to fill the small hole in which they sat.

The girl suddenly made to outstretch her arms but the brick was packed too tight around them to allow the action. She whimpered. His vision was becoming accustomed to the light and he could see her hands shaking. She fought to turn herself in his grasp.

'No, don't move, stay still. If you make any sudden movements you might bring the brick in on top of us,' he instructed catching hold of her hand.

'We're trapped in here,' she gasped snatching her hand away. She quickly turned to the doors. 'What's the chance that these doors are open?' she panted.

On closer inspection the rough green doors didn't look big enough for someone to fit through to Alessandro. If they tried they would have to crawl. More likely the office building used to be a pub and that was where they rolled the beer barrels down to the cellar. Still, it might be their only way out.

'Nil, I guess.'

'I still want to try. Humour me,' she persisted.

'It will be a waste of time,' he told her flatly.

'I can't stand the thought of having to acknowledge that we are buried alive in here. Please help me delay the inevitable,' she panted with a small amount of humour in her voice.

'Ok, but nice and slow. No sudden movements.'

He allowed her to slowly turn from her sideways position in his arms towards the doors and lean over. With shaking hands she pushed at it. When it didn't budge she tried again. She gave a frustrated growl and grunted with the exertion on her injured arm.

'It's no good.'

He sighed. 'I told you so.'

'Maybe we should try to kick it in.'

The girl started to try to stretch her legs out as far as possible pushing back on him. He tightened his grip on her waist in warning.

'Stop. I told you no sudden movements or we won't get out of here alive,' he commanded.

'Let me try. We have to do something. I can't just sit in here and wait until we run out of oxygen or something.'

She had a point. He tried to move his own legs but they were wedged in tight, his knees bent around the girl, his feet pressed upwards against the side of the cubbyhole. He nodded at her and helped her turn around fully. Slowly she leaned back against him and lifted her leg and kicked at the door with all she had.

Nothing. Dust began to fall around them from the rubble as it moved against him. His body was just about all but keeping the rubble from falling in on them. He eyed it suspiciously as she tried again. She kicked it several times, each action becoming more frustrated and erratic. Their brick prison began to shake making him shout at her to stop. When she wouldn't listen he caught hold of her leg and forced her to turn around back to her sideways position against his body.

'There's nothing we can do. We will just have to sit tight until the emergency services get here. They'll find us,' he told her beginning to feel hot in their small prison.

'I can't just sit here and give up,' she shouted.

'You are going to have to . From the way you kept working on Paul I can tell you don't know when to give up and realise there is nothing more you can do,' he said with impatience.

She sat forward holding her injured arm twisting her head around as far as she could to see him over her shoulder.

'You knew him?'

Damn. He shouldn't have opened his fucking mouth. But he decided that maybe he could play this revelation to his advantage and work out if the girl had taken the evidence from Paul. Perhaps, he'd entrusted her with it just before he'd died. It was worth a shot.

'Yes. I was going to meet him. We were friends.'

'Really? You don't seem that cut up about his death?' she challenged.

'Like I've had time to be. What's your name?'

'Ariadne. Yours?'

'Alessandro. Ariadne, did Paul give you something before he died? He was supposed to . . .'

She was angry.

'Your friend has just died and you sound more concerned about something he was supposed to give you? Some friend you are. Ow . . .'

'What is it?'

'My arm, my head. They hurt like hell. I can't believe I got shot . . .'

Her voice sounded breathy and drowsy. She was losing too much blood. The paramedics needed arrive pronto. He strained his ears listening for voices. Nothing. He felt cramp beginning to creep up his legs and shifted his body once, twice.

'What are you doing?' she hissed at him.

'Nothing,' he grumbled. 'I'm getting cramp.'

'Don't move again. It feels as though you are rubbing yourself against me.'

'What? What the hell are you on? It's not like I want to touch you up. Like I could in here?' he mocked sarcastically.

She winced loudly with pain and brought her hand to her head.

He was concerned. He caught her hand and pulled it away from her head and spoke softly.

'Come on, lie back against me and relax. The paramedics will get here I promise you.'

He guided her reluctant body back against his chest with a firm grip. 'I don't bite.'

'No you just shoot people.'

'Shh, let me have a look at your arm.'

Her head fell against his chest. Blood from the cut in her forehead was streaming down her face and her shirt sleeve was soaked. He took hold of the material and ripped it open. She jumped in his arms but offered no objection. Her head moved listlessly from side to side against his chest. He pulled at the tie around his neck and pulled it away undone from his collar. Quickly he tied it around her arm above the wound to stem the blood flow and ignored her cry of pain. She was pretty out of it now.

'Hey don't go to sleep on me. Stay awake,' he urged, worried she was about to lose consciousness. He swept his hand around her waist again and gave her a squeeze around her middle. She moved and cursed him but it did the trick.

'I hate just sitting here. I hate small spaces. Who do you think set of the bombs? It has to be the IRA,' she questioned, the pain clearly audible in her strained voice.

'Might be but then that environmental group Voice Of The Earth has been threatening action for a while. Maybe it's them.'

'All those lives gone in a few seconds. It's too much to bear.' She paused. 'I'm so hot. Do you think we'll make it?'

'Damn right we will,' he told her confidently but he was beginning to wonder. It was getting harder to breathe and the dust was choking his lungs. He couldn't hear anyone out there. 'Come on talk to me. How old are you?'

'None of your business,' she said with drowsy humour. He sensed her smiling.

'I reckon you are similar to me twenty-seven or maybe twenty-eight?'

'Twenty-eight.'

'One year older than me.'

'Does that make you a toy boy then? I want to go to sleep now.'

Her words were slurring. He felt afraid for her. He liked her humour, liked the way she'd hung around when he was in trouble and did her best to help.

He lightly swept his fingers around the side of her face and stroked her cheek in a gentle soothing motion as he kept her head resting against him. She turned slightly, pressing the other side of her face against his chest and he found himself warming to her need for comfort.

'You are one gutsy lady. Most people would have took off at the sight of a gun. But there you were banging a broken chair across the back of one of the most dangerous men I know.'

'It's not in my nature to run away.'

'No. But it might have been better if you had done. Are you sure Paul didn't give you anything?'

'No, I'm sure,' she said with irritation but still he doubted her. There was something uneasy in her tone and the way she snapped at him told him she was hiding something. He didn't persist any further. The time wasn't right.

'Ok, shh. Take it easy,' he whispered kissing the top of her head to gentle her protest.

'I'm frightened,' she said out of the blue. 'The last time I was in an enclosed space, bad things happened . . .'

She sounded delirious. He became curious.

'Shh, your safe with me. What happened?'

'I don't want to talk about it. I'm too hot.'

He watched her move her hand to her throat and pull at the collar of her shirt. One of the buttons came undone and exposed her cleavage. He couldn't help but look down. Hell, it was in his nature. It was automatic. That's when he saw it. A small package tucked inside her left bra cup. Excitement streaked through his veins. So, Paul had given her something.

He considered simply taking it from her but then he didn't want to hurt her or make her frightened of him. He would have to wait. At least he knew she had it, safely tucked in that rather magnificent pert cleavage. He couldn't think of anywhere safer or where he would like to be if he was that package. He smiled to himself. She was one formidable woman. She'd probably bite him or something if he even tried. He wondered what Paul must have said for her to lie and keep her possession of it secret.

He glanced down again, temptation and frustration to have it beginning to get the better of him. He was relieved for Ariadne's sake that he was thwarted from acting by the sound of voices outside of their claustrophobic prison. He began shouting loudly and before long both he and Ariadne were pulled from the rubble. He was just going to have to find another way of retrieving the package before she gave it to the wrong people or his grandfather decided to kill her for it.