Helen, Rob and Mark all stood in the hallway, listening to the sound of their American friend’s voice. All three of them had their arms crossed, an exact mirror image of each other.

"That really doesn’t sound good," Mark observed.

"So, Kyle’s with them, and according to Frank we shouldn’t be overly concerned as the police have been informed every step of the way by the Inspector himself – I…think…not!" Helen remarked sarcastically.

"I’m going over there to put a stop to this charade…" Rob decided quickly and headed immediately for the front door, "…and afterwards, I’m going to kick that man’s arse!" He stopped mid-way and turned back, "does anyone know where Frazeley Street is?" he added a little foolishly, feeling the wind swiftly leaving his sails.

"No, but I know someone who does," said Helen, reaching for the phone.

"Who?" asked Mark.

"My friend, Mr A-Z!" her hand glided over the phone and pulled out the moth-eared road atlas from the row of books which were lined up neatly against the wall. She flicked to the index and quickly found the road Frank had named. "Right, let’s go," she said marking the page and slapping the book into Rob’s hands.

Mark put a hand on her shoulder, "you’re not going anywhere," he announced.

"Excuse me?" said Helen after a pause, her voice low and dangerous.

Mark continued, quickly, not liking the expression on Helen’s face or the way his brother was standing behind her making slasher-throat motions with the blade of his hand. Unwisely ignoring his brother’s silent warning, he continued, "it could be dangerous, and I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it – I’m only thinking of you!" he added

"Oh…is that so?"

"Yes, I don’t feel you’re in any fit state to help anyoneeeee…WWWHHHOOOAAA!" Mark quickly found himself lying on his back looking up at the ceiling.

Helen’s face loomed over his with one eyebrow arched and was quickly joined by his older brother whose face bore an ‘I told you so’ expression.

"We agreed back in Alnwick that I would only coming home if you promised not to pressure me – don’t do it again!" she ordered.

"Okay, so maybe I was a little hasty in my statement that you’re in no fit state to help," he admitted.

***

Mike Grantham looked down at the helpless young man kneeling before him, his gun pointing straight into the side of his head. "Okay Mr Morris, give me your wife’s phone number so I can ring her and get her over here!"

Frank Hardy’s eyes swiveled in their sockets and looked defiantly and unwaveringly up at his tormentor. "No!"

The truth was that, off the top of his head, Frank simply couldn’t remember Helen’s home phone number and had handed the phone to Joe earlier so was unable to use the mobile to press instant dial.

Unperturbed, Mike look across at Joe, Kiwi and Kyle. "One of you had better give it to me…and quickly – I’m losing patience, and when I loose patience you’ve witnessed what the outcome can be."

Joe looked at Frank and nodded almost imperceptibly to him. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket and waved it at Mike before handed it across to Kiwi.

"You want me to phone?" Kiwi asked him, under his breath, his voice sounding scared.

Joe nodded.

Kiwi scrolled down the long list of telephone numbers until he got to *HOME*. He pressed and waiting to be connected. The phone rang eight times, and then the answer phone took over. "No one’s home," he informed Mike loudly.

"Come over here and give me that phone," snapped Grantham.

Joe took the phone from Kiwi and approached Mike and his brother, hoping the opportunity might arise where he could physically tackle him. However, he was instructed to leave the phone on the ground twelve feet in front of Frank and then go back to where he’d been previously standing. Joe crossed his arms and stayed where he was.

"Please yourself," muttered Mike unconcerned, "kick the phone over here – and I don’t mean kick it so hard it ends up at the other end of the car park! Just to my feet please."

Joe nudged it, sliding it straight to Mike’s feet and then tensed his body in preparation for the opportunity he craved. He felt only disappointment as Mike kept the gun firmly pressed to Frank’s temple and, without his eyes leaving Joe’s for a second, bent low and scooped it up.

They stood tensely watching, as he pressed redial and waited. He barked a message into the answer machine instructing Helen to make her way immediately to the warehouse, or her husband would be killed.

"You’ve tried that trick before and it backfired rather badly remember," Frank pointed out.

Mike clicked the phone off, "ah yes, but I’ve a much bigger bargaining chip now and I have a feeling this one will pay off – let’s just wait and see shall we?" He smiled, "and how much trouble can one small woman cause me, eh?" he turned to Joe, "YOU! Go back to where Kiwi Dave is, or I’ll do something you’ll regret!"

Still standing against the wall, Kiwi was staring at the side of Kyle’s head, his eyes almost watering with the effort of trying to get the Inspector to acknowledge him. Finally, he nudged the policeman hard with his elbow causing him to finally glance his way. "This situation is getting worse Kyle. It’s already out of control – I’ll ask you again…when are the police going to be here?" the New Zealander hissed.

There was a long intermission, where the inspector looked back at the scene being played out in front of them. Joe had started to walk backwards towards them. "Don’t panic, I’m dealing with it," he finally answered.

Kiwi wasn’t the least convinced.

***

Helen pulled the BMW up behind Kyle’s car while Rob took the opportunity to check the A-Z map.

"I’m sure it must be around here somewhere!" he muttered, turning the book round and looking at it from another angle.

"This is stupid!" cursed Mark, "one of us has got to take lessons in navigation!" Reaching over, he unlatched the car door, "I’m going to find out what road we’re actually on," he announced and hopped out.

The other two watched as he passed a tall gate. He stopped mid way and cocked his head curiously to one side, obviously listening. The door was slightly ajar, so he moved closer and put his head to the opening. Turning round, he beckoned to his friends and put his fingers to his lips to signal for them to be quiet.

They both climbed from the car and silently joined him.

"What’s the problem?" Rob whispered.

Mark took Helen by the upper arm and pulled her away from the gate, Rob automatically following. They bought their heads closely together and Mark looked surreptitiously up and down the road before answering, "I just heard Kiwi’s voice on the other side."

"Are you sure?" asked Helen doubtfully.

"How many other New Zealander’s are there going to be in this area of Birmingham?" he asked sarcastically.

She shook her head, walked back to the gate and inspected it up and down until she was successful in finding a small knothole towards the bottom. Bending down, she placed her eye to it, the other two standing impatiently behind her. She immediately jerked upright, both her hands flying directly to her mouth, clamping over her lips tightly before she could utter the scream that was threatening to burst forth. She turned to the other two, her eyes wide.

"What is it?" asked Mark concerned, also bending down to look. "Oh great!" he uttered, standing back and indicating for his brother to take a look-see.

Straightening up, Rob turned to Helen and Mark, his shoulders tense. "You know who that is with the gun don’t you?" he said, his voice sounding dangerous.

They both took another turn at peeking.

"Yes, its Martin Grantham isn’t it?" asked Mark, not seriously requiring an affirmation.

Rob didn’t bother to answer; he was off across the road on a hunch to take a look at the two cars that were parked in front of the BMW. He cupped his hands against the front window of Kyle’s car and spied the two-way transistor. Looking about him, he selected a large stone from the roadside and tested the weight in his hand. He walked back towards the vehicle and prepared to throw it at the glass in order to gain access to the radio. Before he could let fly, Mark grabbed his muscular forearm and halted his swing.

"Mark, what are you doing?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

Mark calmly reached forward and pulled on the door latch – the door immediately springing open.

"Brawn and brains, dear brother…brawn and brains!" Pushing passed Rob, Mark slid into the front seat and picked up the handset. He fiddled about until he found the power switch.

"What’s he doing?" asked Helen, joining Rob.

"Trying to contact Police Control," he guessed.

***

Mike Gregg/Martin Grantham still had the gun pressed hard against Alex Morris’s/Frank Hardy’s head. The older Hardy brother was beginning to wish he could get up and walk around, as his knees were getting very sore from kneeling on the bare concrete.

Mike checked his watch again. "Your wife’s cutting it fine!" he grumbled, "I think it time for another telephone call." He pulled the phone from his pocket again and re-dialed. "Mrs Randall, this is the man who’s holding your husband hostage. I’ve got a proposition for you – either phone me back in ten minutes, or I’ll shoot one of your friends. I think its Kiwi you’re probably closest too so he’ll be the first! Time is a-tickin’!" Pocketing the phone he smiled across at Kiwi, made a gun hand, peered down the ‘barrel’ and pretended to pull the trigger.

"He’s really got it in for me and your brother," Kiwi grumbled to Joe.

***

Helen hurriedly joined Mark again at the car.

The younger Randall brother was still talking into the handset, trying to convince the officer on the other end that it wasn’t a joke. Rob was heading back from the road sign, giving the gate a hard stare as he passed.

The older Randall brother finally tore his eyes away and realized Helen was looking frantic, "what’s up?" he asked.

"I just heard that fruit-loop Martin say he’s going to kill Kiwi if…"

"…Okay, the police have finally taken me seriously and are on their way…" began Mark, interrupting his friend mid-flow. He stopped realizing something further was amiss. "…what did you say?" he asked.

Helen took a deep breath and outlined to them what she had overheard in the courtyard. When she’d finished, Mark was pacing up and down, his fists clenched, "not good…not good…this is not good!" he was saying repetitively.

"So, you see, we can’t afford to wait for the police, Kiwi doesn’t have that much time," she finished.

Rob’s face had gone dark. He turned abruptly and started stomping towards the gate, "I’m going to kill him!" he spat – too loudly.

"No…no…NO…STOP!" Helen ordered, having to run to get ahead of him. She put her hands against his chest in a vain attempt to halt his progress. Rob carried on as though she wasn’t even there, her words providing as much resistance as a hot knife through butter.

"Mark, for goodness sake, help me!" she hissed desperately, performing her friend’s favorite trick of leaping into the air and hanging onto Rob’s back. "Stop for goodness sake!" she begged urgently into his ear, pulling hard on his neck.

Suddenly, the world was flashing past as, for some unknown reason, Rob was suddenly toppling forward into the road. She barely had sufficient time to push herself up on her arms so she didn’t bang her forehead on the asphalt before she was rolling off him. She came up into a seated position and looked to see Mark had wrapped himself around his brother’s legs. The younger Randall brother immediately followed this move up by diving forward and pinning his older brother down before he had time to recover. Seeing Rob was about to gain the upper hand again Helen launched forward and immediately joined in the fray.

Rob had managed to turn himself around, but with Helen’s added weight and their combined determination, he found he was unable to fight free. "GET OFF ME!"

"No way Rob – if you want to get someone killed, you’re going the right away about doing it!" Helen said quickly.

"BUT WE…"

"No buts…she’s right Rob, listen to her. If you go storming in there in your normal inimitable fashion, he’ll start shooting."

"But…"

"No doubt about it sweetie, please calm down!"

"But…"

"Yes, the man’s obviously a complete fruitcake, you panic him and Frank’s dead."

"But…"

"He’s right Rob, don’t do it!"

"But I…I…grrrrrrr!" Rob finally stopped bucking and went limp. "Okay - you can get off me now," he conceded.

"Promise you’ll behave?"

"GOD HELEN…"

"Promise me!"

Rob sighed loudly, "okay, okay…you win. I’ll behave."

"It’s not a case of winning - not against you anyway. Besides…" Helen began, her face moving closer to his, "…I have a cunning plan!"

***

Frank was the first of the group to notice the gateway was moving. It was pushed inwards a couple of feet and Mark appeared, closely followed by Helen (with brown leather purse in hand), and Rob following up the rear.

"Took your time," Mike sneered.

"We didn’t get home until a little earlier. Didn’t Alex tell you we were out?" asked Helen.

Mark and Rob peeled away and started heading towards Frank while keeping to the right against the wall.

"Not too close you two," Mike suddenly ordered, turning to them abruptly.

Rob looked unimpressed and Mark carried on making his way up field.

"Do as he says," Frank instructed, indicating upwards with his eyes. They all looked up and saw Alan Black’s body lying splayed out on the gantry.

Helen felt her heart skip a beat and she automatically looked down at Kiwi who was standing beneath and saw the creeping pool of blood that had now encircled his feet and was threatening to do the same to Joe’s.

She registered surprise upon seeing the younger Hardy brother. Though she knew he hadn’t been at home, she’d assumed he must have been with Tim.

"HEY…HEY…Wake up Helen," she heard Mike loudly exclaim and turned back to him.

"You did that?" she asked, indicating upwards with her thumb.

He shrugged his shoulders in an almost modest way.

"You’re really something, you know that?" she asked sardonically her lip curling, "a really brave fella – your mother must be proud."

"Hey, leave my mother out of this!"

"Why should I? You didn’t leave any of my friends or family out of it!"

Frank groaned and rolled his eyes, his shoulders slumping. Joe was fidgeting uncomfortably behind her.

Helen and Mike locked eyes and glowered at each other.

"I gave you, your husband and your friends ample chances to return the ring. After all, I could so easily have killed the six of you over and over. But, out of the goodness of my own heart, I decided against such rashness!"

"Like arranging the car accident for instance?" she cut in.

"Exactly."

Helen’s eyes narrowed and she began walking forward steadily, pinning Mike’s eyes to her own. "Don’t think for one instance you’re going to get away with any of this Martin - I’m taking you down!"

"Scary words from one so small! Don’t forget where this gun is pointing. One smart move from you and Alex dies – now, stop dithering and hand over the ring." In order to strengthen his command, he pulled the hammer back. Frank closed his eyes tightly and a heavy atmosphere ensued.

Helen stopped just a few feet from Mike, her jaw jutting defiantly. She ‘humphed’ at him in disgust and opened her mouth to berate him further. A funny noise suddenly emanated from Frank’s throat, which caused her to freeze and look at his face. She then turned and glanced over her shoulder at Joe whose face was silently pleadingly with her.

Saying nothing further, she dropped into a crouch and placed her handbag on the floor. She could sense Rob and Mark getting ready to make their move and glanced at Frank, catching and holding his gaze for a couple of seconds, almost intimately.

His face bore the expression of someone uncertain as to what was going to happen, but who knew something important was about to occur.

She could tell he was putting his trust in her and decided there and then she wasn’t going to fail another person she cared about. She winked at him.

Her gaze dropped and she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Unclipping the purse’s fastening, she started rummaging. She pulled out her keys, a lipstick, purse and lighter, which she scattered about the floor.

Mike sighed loudly. "For goodness sake woman! Would you hurry up and find that ring!"

"Give me a second," she snapped. Turning the bag upside down, she tipped the entire contents out onto the concrete. Overturning a soft-back, children’s thriller book, she pulled out a handy-sized aerosol can of hair spray and stood up.

"What’s that all about?" asked Mike loudly.

"It’s where I’ve hidden the ring. It has a false, screw-on lid and is hollow inside. Loads of women have them now, for security - listen…" she shook the can and everyone heard the distinct sound of something rattling inside, "…see?"

Frank’s brow furrowed, "that sounded real lame," he thought.

She opened the lid and a ring dropped out onto the floor, it bounced and settled into the middle of Helen’s heaped belongings out of sight. Frank was sure it was a plain gold band – possibly her wedding ring.

"You clumsy idiot…" Mike shouted.

"Hey - accidents happen!" Helen bent down and picked something up from the middle of the heap, which she clutched tightly in the palm of her hand.

"Come on!" urged Mike, "…let me have it!"

"You want it?…" asked Helen taking couple of steps forward with her hand out, eyeing Mike as he reached forward hungrily "…then take it you stinking, murdering, coward!" and opened her palm.

Too late he realized it wasn’t a ring she was holding, but the lighter. There was a snapping noise and a two-inch high flame appeared. Her other hand instantly reared up, still clutching the aerosol can, and she sprayed straight through the flickering flame at Mike, a five foot jet of fire hitting him full in the face.

Frank immediately took the opportunity Helen had provided to roll backwards, safely away from the pistol and heat.

Mike screamed and batted at the flames uselessly with his bandage hand, the cloth instantly catching light. In his panic, he squeezed the gun and there was a loud report of a bullet leaving the barrel. He started bellowing incoherently and blindly shooting the gun in the general direction of where Frank had been knelt.

Helen jumped backward out of range herself and continued her assault, now moving the flame up and down. Her plan to completely engulf him in fire, wanting to hurt him as much as he had hurt her - unaware that Mike had actually moved himself sufficiently out of the way as to not be further burned.

Suddenly, something large moved jerkily in the corner of her eye coming from the direction of the Randall brothers causing her head to jerk round and her finger to release the nozzle. Rob, who had been moving towards Mike to disarm him with Mark, had mysteriously jumped up, pivoted to the side and was now staggering clumsily about. A large patch of scarlet began spreading across his shoulder and she realized, horrified, that he’d been hit.

Someone ran passed her field of vision and she barely had time to register it was Joe moving at speed before she saw her friend take a second hit in the chest, the shock of the blast spinning and taking him off his feet. Mark screamed something she didn’t hear, changed direction and began running instead towards his older brother away from the melee Frank and Joe were now involved in.

The gunfire had ceased as quickly as it had begun, but Helen could still hear the shots echoing and resounding thunderously in her head. Images began to flash across her mind and she was taken back to when she and Alex were kissing in the kitchen and then to her sitting in the car with him, bloody and dying in her arms, his face pale. She pictured Frank and herself holding hands as they walked through the grounds of the castle and then to him receiving emergency CPR on the bank of the river at Kenilworth. Slipping her arms about Rob’s waist and giving him a fond cuddle as they stood across the road from the White Swan Hotel, and then the sight of him being blasted and tumbling away.

She was yanked back into the present, and found she was still standing staring at her friend who was apparently dying on the concrete in front of her, his brother Mark ripping desperately at his shirt, buttons flying off in all directions.

Her vision started to blur and she barely registered Kiwi’s arms reaching for her as she pitched forward into blessed darkness.