The World in My Pocket

‘Drop that gun!’ he yelled at Ginny, ‘or I’ll blast a hole in your boyfriend!’

Ginny let go of the gun she held in her hand. It dropped onto the grass.

Bleck backed away, covering them both.

‘Get away from it,’ he snarled.

Ginny moved to Kitson.

Bleck circled them, picked up Ginny’s gun and threw it into the lake.

‘Now you two listen to me,’ he said. ‘We’re busting this truck. Don’t kid yourselves I can’t handle you both. We’re not going to move from here until we’ve opened the truck and got the dough. If you don’t want it, I do, and I’m going to have it.’ He waved his gun at Kitson. ‘Get in there and get the cylinders out.’

Shrugging, Kitson went over to the caravan and Bleck followed him.

‘I’m not going to manage this on my own,’ Kitson said. ‘Gypo and I put them up. I know what they weigh. You’d better get hold of the other end.’

Bleck grinned. He put his gun in its holster.

‘Don’t start anything funny, plough boy,’ he said. ‘I can handle you any time.’

Kitson reached up and jerked the cylinder out of its bracket.

Bleck eased his end out and got it on his shoulder. The two men slowly backed out of the caravan.

As Kitson got clear of the caravan, he suddenly let go of his end of the cylinder. The unexpected shock as the cylinder thudded to the ground threw Bleck off balance.

Kitson jumped forward. His right fist thudded into the side of Bleck’s neck, flattening him.

Cursing, Bleck tugged at his gun, but Kitson’s thirteen stone of bone and muscle came down on him. For several seconds the two men fought like animals, then Bleck drove his knee into Kitson’s chest and threw him off. He got his gun out as Kitson reached him.

Kitson’s hand grabbed Bleck’s wrist and at the same time he jolted his left into Bleck’s face.

Bleck grunted and let go of the gun.

Kitson was on his feet and covering Bleck with the gun before he could shake off the effect of the punch.

Bleck half sat up, blood running down his face from a cut under his eye, his lips drawn off his teeth in a snarl.

‘I’ll fix you for this!’ he said viciously.

‘Your fixing days are over,’ Kitson said, breathing heavily.

Then suddenly, without warning, there came a roar of an aircraft engine and a swish of air as a small military training plane flew over their heads, flattening the grass with its slipstream as it banked steeply and flew on across the valley.

Bleck staggered to his feet, staring after the aircraft.

‘They saw us!’ he gasped. ‘They couldn’t fail to have seen us! They’ll be up here and after us!’

The three stood motionless, watching the aircraft bank in a tight circle and head back towards them.

‘Get under cover!’ Bleck yelled and he made a frantic rush towards the woods.

The other two scattered, also running towards the woods, but the aircraft was already on them. Flying not more than a hundred feet above them, the aircraft swept over them with a roar and a rush of wind. They could see two men leaning out of the open cockpits, looking directly down at them, then the aircraft banked and went away.

Ginny and Kitson looked at each other, their eyes frightened.

Bleck bawled, ‘Get under cover, you fools! Don’t stand out there!’

Ignoring him, Kitson said, ‘They saw us. They’ll be up here, Ginny.’

‘Yes. I said they would get on to us.’

Kitson moved quickly to the road, crossed it and, crouching, he looked over the grass verge down the long zigzag road that was now clearly to be seen right down into the valley.

About ten miles down the road he saw three cars coming fast, spreading a cloud of dust as they raced into the twisting bends in the road.

He felt a little knock of fear at his heart as he ran back to Ginny.

‘They’re coming now!’

Bleck came out of the wood cursing.

‘Can you see them?’

‘Yes. They’ll be here in ten minutes at the rate they are coming.’

‘We’ve got a chance,’ Bleck said, his voice shaking. ‘Get the Buick. If we can get over the top of the mountain we stand a chance.’

‘A mile further up the road peters out,’ Kitson said. ‘We might climb . . .’

Bleck ran to the caravan and came back carrying the automatic rifle.

‘They’re not taking me alive,’ he said, his eyes glittering. ‘No death cell for me.’

Kitson opened the Buick door and Ginny slid in beside him.

He could feel her trembling and he patted her knee.

‘Take it easy,’ he said. ‘We still have a chance.’

As Bleck got in beside Ginny, Kitson eased the car over the rough grass and onto the road. The three of them looked back at the truck, standing under the trees.

‘The punks said it was the safest truck in the world,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘They weren’t bluffing.’

Kitson sent the car banging and bouncing up the road.

Bleck leaned out of the window to get his last look at the truck. There’s more than a million dollars in that truck, he was thinking. There’s my future and my life locked up in there too.

Kitson drove fast, skidding into the bends, his face tense, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. They came to the first hairpin bend, and he slowed to take it, but misjudged it. He had to stop and reverse while Bleck cursed him.