Page 39 of New Storm Rising
Mr Linton,
I have provided the tools. I have provided opportunity. Strike tonight. I shall expect you back by midnight at the latest.
Rikkard Ambrose
P.S.: Pay shall be deducted for the time youandthe other staff were absent from work.
I blinked.
Absent? What the hell do you mean, absent? I’m in bloody prison! Which you put me in!
Unfortunately, I didn’t have an opportunity to shout these words into Mr Rikkard Ambrose’s ear. In order to do that, I would have to get out of here, and get to him. Which, incidentally, was exactly what he wanted.
Drat!
Slowly, I counted to ten, making sure my roiling emotions had subsided. When I finally no longer felt the desire to rip Mr Rikkard Ambrose’s head off with my bare hands, I put away the paper and looked down at the matchbox and dynamite remaining in my hands.
One corner of my mouth quirked up.
Say what you will about Mr Rikkard Ambrose…but he makes the most interesting plans.
Pretending to finish my business, I adjusted my trousers, walked over to a corner of the room and settled down on the floor. Time to wait for midnight.
Mine!
Wind whistled over the moonlit landscape. The darkness of deepest midnight lay like a velvet blanket on everything. Upon a small hill, a picturesque little town was silhouetted against the starry sky. A nightingale sang in the distance, until it subsided, leaving the calm and beautiful silence of the night to fall once more over the—
KA-BOOM!!
In the centre of the picturesque little town, the window bars of the picturesque little jail were blown clean out of the wall. A moment later, I peeked out of the smoking hole, admiring my work.
“Hm…not bad. Not bad at all.”
Glancing back at the terrified, gape-mouthed crowd of soon-to-be escapees, I gestured at them to follow.
“Come along! What are you waiting for?”
“You…you blew up the wall.”
“Yes, I know. Move it!”
“You blew upthe wall!”
The men seemed rather intent on repeating this fact, and on not moving their butts. Well now, we’d have to do something about that, wouldn’t we?
I smiled.
“I was sent by Mr Rikkard Ambrose.”
The colour drained from the face of every single man.
“How about now?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Want to follow me?”
“B-but…we would be escaping from jail! We would be outlaws!”
Turning to face the man who had spoken, I cocked my head. “Mr Rikkard Ambrose is in town. Would you like to be late for work tomorrow?”
Suddenly, all the men leapt up, filled with the burning desire to become desperados. Dashing towards the wall, I vaulted over the smoking remains of the windowsill and the unconscious guard outside, rushing across the street.
