Seven

By alasdair gilchrist

Seven
An armed robbery goes wrong and some quick thinking is required, two sisters are taken hostage. What seemed like a good idea at the time turns into a nightmare and nothing will be the same again ... for any of them.

Then the bodies start to appear, the gang is starting to self-destruct ... for there is a killer in their midst.

• Language: English
• Publisher: alasdair gilchrist
• Release date: Dec 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781507024126

Book preview

Seven ... a Novella

Image courtesy of sakhorn38 at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Copyright © 2013 Alasdair Gilchrist

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Seven

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction, entirely the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, places and events are purely coincidental.

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Seven ... a Novella

Disclaimer

ACT I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

ACT II

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

ACT III

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

ACT IV

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

ACT I

Chapter 1

A blast of cold air shocks their bodies; they are hot and sweaty from the midday heat and the draining humidity cloaks and weigh them down. The two men, the long hair one and the big muscle man, step into this rarified atmosphere, shocked and transformed, exhilarated and buzzing. They step up to the counter, there is no need to delay or to scan the store, they have few concerns, the plan is already in motion nothing can stop it now, nothing or nobody.

The first man through the door, the longhaired one, slips behind the counter and confronts the staff. Alarmed they back away but there is nowhere to back off too. He shouts at them to induce fear to command authority and respect. The second man stands back he too is creating noise, but again it is controlled, meant to instill a sense of authority a realisation in those he is addressing that obedience is not an option.

The counter staff, two young women, Jee and Lek, dither and stare blankly at the longhaired man who has violated their workspace, a foreigner, he has told them what he wants them to do but they are slow and confused and the man shouts again. Unresponsive to his speech, he raises and gestures with the gun towards the tills and the lockers beneath them. Still they dither, but this time they recognise what is in his hand, and this time the fog of disbelief drops like a veil and they spring into action opening the drawers and filling the cash bags with fast, furious, but clumsy actions. The muscle man, built to intimidate is covering the customers, is watching for any problems, maintaining order and silence, so that nothing distracts the girls, but a sudden shriek, a high pitch whistle sears the silence.

Startled everyone jumps, even muscle man. In their panic Lek and Jee, shudder with convulsions, they drop the cash, missing the bags, the money spilling all over the counter. The longhaired man calmly steps forward; pushing Lek aside, he rips the cash bag from Lek’s shaking hands, laying his gun on the counter; he grabs up the spilt notes, and stuffs them into the cash bag. With a single step and without looking up, focused on the spilt notes he steps across to the second till where he goes through the same motions, sweeping together the spilt notes, gathering them up and stuffing them into the cash bag. He rips open the drawer below Jee’s till and grabs the bundles of wrapped notes stored there, the cash float and the overflow from the days takings. He thrusts the wrapped bundles into the bag before he steps back to do the same at Lek’s till, he never looks up he has confidence and purpose. He finishes bagging the cash and shouts an instruction to his accomplice and they turn to flee. The muscle man urges him to hurry because the spell is fading and the customers are coming around to what is happening. The longhaired man springs up, over and clears the counter, and takes two fast paces towards the sliding doors, then stops abruptly; he remembers his gun, which he has left lying on the counter. Cursing, he turns to retrieve it when he sees a young woman reaching out for the gun and she is several steps closer. She has it in her hand now and is turning towards him, turning and pointing it towards him. He stalls, lost for a second, mesmerised; his eyes meet hers and engage, an impotent anxiety floods through him. He sees she is raising her arm, her hand outstretched, he watches in disbelief, as she watches him, her eyes locked on his eyes, her arm rising and turning reaching out towards him. An urgent shout from his accomplice turns his head but he is moving as if in treacle in a slowed down existence, time hasn’t stopped but it has slowed. His eyes remain fixed on her eyes, in the lower periphery of his vision, he can see the gun the Glock, lying in her hand ... lying flat on the palm of her hand.

In a burst of realisation, he grabbed the weapon from her upturned hand and turned diving towards the closing door. He leaped in one fluid moment, riding and surfing that huge wave of resurgent time. An unexpected blast knocks him back and he stumbled, confused, disorientated, he hears another urgent desperate call from his accomplice. Stunned, he collects his senses ready to dive out the re-opening door. A gunshot, sudden and shocking, freaks and frightens him, he steps back into the store, dropping the cash bag, he looks around in concern, in worry, and his eyes scan the curious faces of the shoppers. They stare back at him with narrow eyes their confusion and awe fading fast, but his eyes drift, pulled as if magnetised towards her, to coalesce with those lustrous eyes. He steps further inside pushing aside some customers and grabbing the young woman by the shirt he pulls her towards him, but she is resistant and he sees she is holding the hand of a small girl who is looking up at him with wide wondrous eyes. He tugs again at the woman and drags her with him, and together the three step out of the doorway into the hot and bright sunlit street.

The street is noisy but it is unfamiliar, the background is quiet, silent and static, the noise he recognises, the echoing robotic clipped tones of amplified orders shouted through a megaphone. The orders are clear and demanding, but the voice behind the megaphone soon calms, evaluates and loses confidence as the gunman steps out onto the pavement with the young woman and child held close to his body, and with the gun to the child’s head.

The shouting, the demands, the orders, fade to nothing as he steps forward he notices the shocked look on the face of his accomplice, the muscle man, who is now scrambling down to pickup his discarded gun. The Police are backing off, no more shouting now only words of calm and reassurance as he makes his way towards the car. The muscleman skips up and alongside and opens the rear door to allow him to shuffle his hostages into the rear. The young woman moves stiffly but the child whose hand she grips tightly leaps in playfully onto the backseats. The muscleman covers them and he checks everyone is in the car before he scans the line of Police with his gun, for it is he giving the orders now, it is he who is in control. He orders them back away from the vehicle and when the engine fires and revs he dives into the passenger seat and the car shoots forward on squealing tyres burning the rubber and leaving dark imprints on the hot tarmac.

***

Ok what happened, give it to me from the top, ordered Special Investigator Bee lead Psychiatrist and analyst from the Thai Serious Crimes unit. She was addressing the team leaders of the Tactical Response Teams who dealt with such hostage situations when ambush turned to catastrophe.

There isn’t a great deal more to add, but I will go over it again. At 14.45, a metallic brown BMW X1 pulled up outside of 7-eleven on Ngam Wong Wan road. Two men got out of the car one remained with the vehicle. The two men entered the store and one immediately stepped around the counter brandishing a handgun. His accomplice stayed in front of the counter covering the many customers that where around the counter. There was no panic, everyone stayed under control, and the two store assistants filled the cash bags from the tills as ordered. But a little kid in the store had a toy whistle and everyone panicked when they heard him blow that damn shrill whistle and the girls dropped the cash. The robber then took over and pushing them aside collected up the money. The robbers then tried to make their escape. The first out the door spotted our Tactical Response Team, and dropped his weapon and surrendered. But the second man was slow to exit and he actually ran into the stores glass door, knocking him back inside, that was just pure luck or we would have had them easy. But back in the store, and knowing we were outside he took hold of a young woman and a child and used them as hostages. Then as you know he steps back out into the street with his hostages forcing the Tactical Response Team to back down and reluctantly we had to let them go.

Who are the hostages do we know? asked Bee.

No, not yet, we estimate one to be a woman maybe seventeen upwards and a young girl around four or five.

OH that’s just wonderful ... that will make excellent TV and any news on the vehicle this brown BMW?

"Yes it was stolen from the Mall car park just minutes before the robbery and abandoned just before the toll way turn off, so they switched cars, almost certainly planned beforehand,