Framed
I wrote this first story for a story contest - NYC midnight. Unfortunately, it wasn't good enough to get me into the second round of the competition but I'm still quite pleased with the story. I've expanded the story out quite a bit and am planning to maybe try and self publish this some time in the future, but for now this is the first part.
Mark was nervous. He took a slow drag on his cigarette to calm his nerves, the smoke emanating from the sides of his mouth and out into the air.
The clock struck one o'clock. He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket. Fumbling, he dropped it with a clatter on the ground.
His mind was racing. He thought to his girlfriend Laura at home, pregnant with their first child, due in a few months. He was doing this for her, for the baby. They were desperate for the money and times were tough. Work had been slow in the warehouse. he'd tried picking up extra shifts but it just wasn't enough.
Scrolling through endless job sites he'd come across a courier job on what Mark was now not sure was a completely above board website. The job seemed simple: “pick up and deliver an item, and walk away. No questions asked, no communication with the other party, this was vital.”
The people, or organisation who'd advertised the job had offered £15,000 up front, with a further £30,000 on completion. He'd thought it was too good to be true, but he really was desperate.
He'd thought about what kind of people would pay so much to have something discreetly delivered, drugs? It had to be drugs. He was okay with this, or at least he convinced himself he was against his better judgement. He didn't want to think about it too much. Just deliver the package and then you can go home and forget all about it.
He took a final drag on his cigarette and discarded the butt on the ground. He stood up, adjusting his outfit.
He saw the other man approaching slowly. He didn’t know his name and he daren’t ask, he'd been given specific instructions he was not to speak to the other man.
The man was in his late 50s, what little hair he had left was thinning and grey and he had a gaunt expression which which suited a renaissance painting more than that of a man in the 21st century.
He was a slight man, though age was catching up with him.
The man approached him and they exchanged a glance. The man stopped and Mark picked up the leather briefcase from the ground and handed it to the man.
The other man took the briefcase and nodded curtly, turned around and walked away.
Mark lit another cigarette, took a slow drag and blew the smoke out. It was done.
Walking from the meeting point Mark began to relax a little. His phone buzzed and his banking app showed £30,000 deposited from an unknown account. They were as good as their word it seemed.
He made his way along the road and back towards his flat. He considered taking the tube, but it was a nice day and he could do with the exercise.
Feeling quite pleased with himself, he made his way up the stairs of his block of flats and opened the front door. Laura was sat watching the news. “Hello gorgeous” he beamed as he leaned down and kissed her. “Hi” she replied, taking a sip of tea “You're in a good mood”. She said. Mark smiled “ I've got a good feeling about today” He replied as he brewed himself a coffee.
“How did it go?” she asked. Mark had told her he'd had an interview for a job. “Yeah, it was good” he replied slightly nonchalantly. He didn't want to tell her the truth, he wasn't sure she'd approve. “They said they'd let me know next week.”
Mark sat down and he talked to Laura about plans for the day. They planned to take a walk to the park, and get some lunch, maybe see a movie. He was working the night shift again tonight, so wanted to make the most of the time with her.
Suddenly, the TV changed from a man reporting in Farmer's field to the banner of BREAKING NEWS running across the screen. “Breaking news, we are getting reports of a large explosion in central London near to Downing street. Reports are coming in as we speak, however we can confirm that there has been an explosion. More news as we have it.”
Mark watched as the news unfolded, unable to speak.
“We can now confirm that a bomb has been detonated outside 10 Downing Street. We can also confirm that the Prime Minister and his family were believed to be in residence at the time. We have no news on any casualties, however we will stay with the story”.
Mark's phone buzzed. A text message appeared “Thank you for playing your part.” His blood ran cold. This couldn't possibly have anything to do with.... His chest became tight, he was struggling to breathe. He stood up and walked over to the window.
Outside in the distance he could hear sirens. He and Laura lived in a flat a few miles North of the centre of London, but even from here he could hear the commotion, emergency services from all around were being drafted into help.
Laura was talking, but he was zoned out, and the words were muffled and indistinct against the loud ringing in his ears. He felt light headed. “...Mark” she said. “Are you okay?” he turned, she'd been talking to him and he hadn't heard a word she said “ yeah” he muttered quietly, “I mean, shit, I just can't believe it.”
The TV blared again “We can now confirm that the Prime Minister, his wife and two sons are believed to be dead. The Deputy Prime Minister and are Chancellor of the Exchequer also currently missing, believed to be dead along with several staffers with reports still coming in on full injury count. Central London is now on lockdown and people are being urged to stay away and not to travel”
Mark stood staring out of the window. Lost in thought. He'd known the job sounded bad, why had he even replied? He was an idiot.
“This just in, we are now getting reports of the name of a man linked to the attack. Mark Brown, age 36 of Finsbury Park is said to be the ringleader of a group of “freedom fighters” as they are calling themselves who have taken responsibility for the attack. Mark turned and looked at the TV “Mark...what the fuck” exclaimed Laura. “It's not, I didn't. I'm not” he tailed off, he was sweating, he could hear his heart beating, louder and louder. He moved towards her. She was standing up, shouting “why are they saying you did this?
Mark sat down. “I don't know. The job interview I had earlier wasn't really an interview, I took a job I saw to pick up and deliver a briefcase to some guy in a suit. Just as the news broke, I got a message from the same number who told me where to deliver the package, thanking me for my involvement, but I swear I had no idea what it was or what was going to happen. I figured it was drugs or maybe some money laundering, something a little dodgy, but nothing like this ”
Silence. Mark knew it was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours.
“We need to get out of here” he said. They've got my name, they're going to come for me.” More silence. “Laura, please say something” he looked at her, trying to read her face, trying to get anything from her. “Where can we go?” she finally spoke up.
Mark thought for a moment. “Your sister has that holiday home in Brighton, right? How about there? We just need to get out of London and far enough away that we can figure all this out. But we need to go now”.
Mark walked towards the bedroom. We need clothes and supplies, we can't take our phones, they can track us, we also can't take our car as they'll be able to track that too.”
“Mrs Edison next door is on holiday, she left me the keys to feed her cat. We can take her car” Laura said. “You pack the clothes, I'll put some food in a bag”
Ten minutes later and Mark was stood by the front door with two rucksacks full of clothes. Laura joined him holding a cool bag. “ Are you sure you want to do this?” Mark said “ It's my mess Laura, my mess. All I wanted to do was get some money for you and the baby and now this has happened.
You could go, you could go to your sister's and I'll hand myself in and explain everything.“ Don't be silly, we're in this together” she replied.
They made their way down into the shared garage, and Laura unlocked the car. “Hardly a great getaway vehicle, is it?” Mark laughed nervously. He'd never felt so nervous before all this; he'd never had cause to.
He never broke the law, never got a parking ticket, or caught speeding and now he was on the run from the Police and the government with his pregnant girlfriend in a stolen car? There was something almost laughable about the whole situation.
They left the garage and headed out onto the street. Eventually making it to the M25. Mark turned on the radio, all of the stations were discussing the same thing; him. Who was he? Why had he done this? Who was the organisation he supposedly worked for, or rather was now the ringleader of?
Laura was quiet for most of the drive, until they neared the outskirts of Gatwick when Laura turned to him and asked “can we stop for a rest?”
He saw a garage and turned in. It was quiet, that was good. He stopped at one of the pumps and pulled his hoodie up, trying to obscure his face. Laura got out of the car and headed for the bathroom on the other side of the forecourt.
He filled the car up and replaced the petrol cap, and then it hit him. He had no money. He'd left his phone and cards in the flat, for fear of being tracked. He started to panic. What was he going to do? He made the decision. He was already on the run for domestic terrorism in a stolen car, what did stealing some petrol matter now?
He got back into the car and hurriedly started the engine when there was a knock on the window. A blonde woman in her mid thirties was stood looking in. Mark slowly wound down the window “Can I help you?” he said. She shifted awkwardly, “This,” she said, handing him a phone “is for you”. She turned and hurried away before Mark could say anything in response.
Suddenly the phone rang. Mark answered “Hello?” Silence. A short beeping sound and then a voice that sounded like it was being masked or distorted “Mr Brown, we appreciate your help with our little venture, however it has been pointed out that we should have been clearer with our terms. We own you now. We will protect you, and your family, but you work for us now. When we call, you answer, if you do not, then there will be consequences. We need someone like you Mr Brown, unassuming and compliant. You will be very useful to us in the coming days. We do not require you to speak, merely answer the phone when we call and comply with our requests. Now, instead of heading to Brighton, we'd like you to go to Gatwick airport. When you arrive, further instructions will follow, and before you think of disobeying, remember, we found you here. We will find you again. You cannot escape us. Oh, one last thing....congratulations on the baby” The line went dead.
He instinctually threw the phone on the ground, wanting to be rid of it as quickly as it could. How the hell had they found him, and how the hell could they know about Laura?
Laura returned to the car and saw the panic in Mark's eyes. “What's going on?” she asked. Mark sat in silence and then explained the best he could what the voice on the phone had said. “It sounds like we have no choice but to go along with what they told me. It's too risky to go to the authorities and somehow they've managed to track me to here, and they know about you and the baby” Laura nodded quietly.
Mark started the car and navigated towards Gatwick airport. He turned the radio on again. This time, to his horror, they were no longer talking about the attack in London. A second attack had taken place, this time in Washington DC. The Whitehouse had been attacked, and from the report the President was feared to be dead. What he hell was going on?
He approached the turn off for the airport and the phone rang again. He answered and switched it to speaker phone “Good” the voice said “ I'm glad you've decided to continue in our employment. Head inside the terminal and find the lockers. Use the code we have just sent to this phone.
Inside you will find a new passport for yourself and your girlfriend and tickets for a flight leaving this afternoon. You will need to be on this flight. Once the flight has landed we will provide further instructions. Do not disobey.” The line went dead.
He looked over at Laura. Neither of them spoke for what felt like an age. Then Laura said “ Let's go”. He made his way over to the car park as instructed, and into the terminal. There he found the locker, entered the code and found a duffel bag, which as promised had the passports and tickets.
This was his life now, their life and he had no way of backing out. Sat in the terminal Mark contemplated the series of events that had lead him to this moment and realised that he now had to accept this for what it was.
The airport tannoy announced their flight number and Laura stood up. “Ready?” Mark said, with a nervous smile. “Yeah, you go on ahead I just need a minute” she replied sombrely. Mark nodded, picked up one of the rucksacks and headed towards the terminal gate.
Laura took a deep breath, then pulled out a phone from her pocket. Not her normal phone, that she'd left home, this one was a burner phone, like the one the woman had given to Mark at the petrol station gave him.
She dialled a number and the phone rang, a click “it's done” she said “Stage two is complete. I'm on the move. Rendezvous in three hours.” She hung up the phone, snapped it in half and tossed it into a bin as she passed towards the gate where Mark was waiting.
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