Thriller — Fiction
Balloon Signals
Watch for the yellow balloon
“Don’t you just love it when prompts combine to give you a thrilling story to write. The following tale was ignited with two images starting with this balloon aligned.”
Balloon Signals
“Watch for the yellow balloon. Inflated means the girl is safe — take the shot.”
Wren peered through the scope of his L96A1 sniper rifle. Vehicles on the city ring road flashed through the crosshairs, the drivers unaware of the day’s events.
“The target should pass within sixty seconds. Don’t miss, Birdo.”
“Just count me down, Husky.” Wren took a deep breath, slowing his heart rate as he feathered the trigger.
“Roger that. Fifty seconds. Does this feel like Grand Theft Auto to you — I mean aiming at cars just like …”
“Husky, shut up! Time?”
“Ten seconds. Mercedes in — ”
“Shit! Abort. I repeat abort! The balloon is deflated!” Wren cursed again as he watched a yellow emoji balloon being ejected from a red Mazda’s passenger window. It bounced miserably in the road until it was whipped away by a black Mercedes. The driver laughed as he made a turn and vanished into the city.
“Wren this is, Crimson. Come in.” said a stressed female voice in the sniper’s ear.
“I read you, Crimson. What the hell happened?” Wren said packing his rifle away.
“The money was exchanged as planned. That scumbag Corbin never brought the Prime minister’s daughter with him. She’s as invisible as a fart in the wind at this point.”
Wren banged an ammo clip into his case, “Damn it, I refuse to believe we failed. Corbin was laughing as he drove past. He knew — ”
‘Happy Birthday to you …’
“What the hell, Wren? This is no time for — ”
“Shut up, It’s not me.”
‘Happy Birthday to you ..”
“Do you see it?” Husky said searching for the cause of the music.
Wren surveyed the rooftop. He glanced about the series of antennae and phone masts. “There.” He leapt to his feet and tore open a metal junction box. A pink smartphone awaited, ringing inside.
‘Happy Birthday dear, Wren — ”
“Arsehole!” Wren said engaging the phone. The screen read ‘Caller unknown’ but rang off before he could answer.
A message beeped in immediately.
Wren opened it revealing a black and white picture of an unhappy girl sitting on a bench in the mall. She had been given a jacket but was still wearing the gym uniform she’d been abducted in yesterday.
“That’s, Estelle!” Husky said. “Crimson, we’ve been sent an image of Estelle. She’s — ”
“In the mall,” Wren finished, “It’s a damned trap. Corbin knew we were going to be on this roof. He played us, damn it!”
“Shit, I’ll get a team in there to find and extract Estelle,” Crimson said.
“Negative. Stay out of it, Crimson.” Wren tossed his rifle case to Husky and dropped through the roof hatch into the building below. “Let me finish this!
Estelle hugged her foot on the bench. Shoppers hurried past oblivious to her plight. In the current climate, it seems everyone lives at maximum speed without noticing anything around them unless it appears on their phone screens.
Just yesterday, she’d been at school enjoying a volleyball session. The gym lights went out and someone grabbed her. Then it was a nightmare of guns and dark, stinky places until she arrived at the mall in the back of a van.
“Hello, sweetheart. Are you okay?” asked a woman in an old, dry voice stopping to control her shopping trolley.
Estelle nodded. She wanted to be receptive, to tell the woman she needed help. But the evil man had threatened to shoot her parents if she spoke or moved.
“You look sad, can I buy you a strawberry éclair at the baker’s downstairs?”
Estelle looked at the woman now. She was wearing a garish yellow-flowered dress with a crocheted shawl over the top. Her grey permed hair had a blue shine to it. A typical octogenarian except for the smooth, younger face. “I’m not allowed to leave my seat. Plus there is no bakery downstairs. Daddy always gets his eclairs delivered from a bakery in Devon.”
“I know, I nicked one of his this morning,” the old woman winked. “You can trust me?”
Estelle giggled. “You’ll go to prison for that.”
“Then you better come and bail me out.” The woman winked again and nodded toward the stairs, “Coming?”
“Three men are watching. One by the lifts, and two watching the escalators. The other man who grabbed me left for a while. He is hiding in the sports shop.” Estelle whispered.
“Good, girl. We’ll go in the pharmacy first.” The woman walked away.
Estelle skipped after her.
As they neared the escalator, the old woman made a sharp right turn through a crowd of teenagers and ducked into the pharmacy.
Estelle followed. She stepped into the aisles of shampoo and skin products, then glanced behind her. Two men were closing from the escalator and sports shop.
The old woman swung from the deodorant aisle with surprising speed. Her shopping trolley became a missile as she hurled it through the door.
There was a series of thuds, yelps and swearing.
Estelle never saw the aftermath. The woman lifted her into a fireman’s carry and dashed through the back of the shop.
Double doors swung open and banged shut, as they entered a rear corridor.
Powerless, Estelle hung over the powerful shoulder as she was taken through the maze of passages at dizzying speed.
Then they were in a freight lift and Estelle was lowered to her feet. “Sorry about that,” said Wren punching the down button and removing the old woman’s wig and dress, revealing his black special operations uniform and boots beneath. “Had to get us safe and fast.”
“Glad you did. “ Estelle smiled at him. “Thanks for rescuing me from that ugly creep.”
“My pleasure.” Wren checked his Sig Sauer handgun and keyed his ear-mic. “Husky, I have the lady. Headed your way.”
“Roger that, Birdo.”
The lift door opened revealing a sea of pallets laden with boxes of merchandise destined for the stores above. The freight area was a semi-circle raised dock, allowing articulated lorries to reverse in below for easy unloading.
Wren stepped into the space and glanced about. “Let’s go.”
Behind him the stairs door burst open, revealing a man with a HK submachine gun. He dashed inside, snapped backwards and collapsed to the floor.
Wren had seen an iron bar from a cage connect with his throat before leading Estelle away, “Cheers, Husky.”
“I always love to grab the situation by the neck,” he replied over the radio.
Wren chuckled, then swore as bullets lanced into the pallets around him. Workers screamed and ran. Two taking bullets and falling before they could escape. “Get down!”
Estelle dropped flat, holding her breath.
“Hey, Birdo. I gotcha!” the man’s voice oozed confidence and vindictiveness, “I wouldn’t have chosen a loading bay to die, but it’ll be my pleasure to gut you anywhere.”
“Hey, Corbin. How’s about I shove a forklift tine up your arse instead.” Wren helped Estelle move around a pallet of household wares.
A salvo of 9mm rounds turned colanders, and boxes of kitchen tools into shrapnel that rained over the commando and his charge.
“I don’t think he got the point!” she said.
“He will when I get my hands on him!” Wren made a rolling gesture and pointed, “Go.”
Estelle nodded and scurried across the space, coming to a stop behind the yellow forklift.
Wren winked and followed, firing three shots as he cleared the gap. One approaching gunman staggered into a pile of boxes, an ugly wound opening between his eyes as he crashed to the ground smashing glass in his wake.
“Nice shot. I was always telling that twat he had a big head. “ Corbin remarked.
“Let Estelle go. This was never about her or the money, so spare her the violence.” Wren demanded. Looking through the forklift window, he watched Husky grab another enemy around the neck, only to be driven spine-first into a sorting rack.
Husky absorbed the blow with a roar, twisted at the hip and slammed his man into a pile of cleaning equipment before a final twist broke his neck. “Chalk me up another, “ Husky said rolling away from a salvo of bullets aimed his way.
“You know, I think I’ll kill the girl before I kill you,” Corbin mused.
Wren made to reply but a single shot cut through the tense air. It zinged off metal near his head. “Oh shit!”
The shot had hit the forklift’s gas cylinder.
Wren grabbed Estelle and sprinted away. Rails of clothing exploded into confetti as he dashed between them. Pallets of food shuddered and erupted into fountains of juice and flour dust as salvos of bullets riddled them.
Then the forklift detonated.
A fireball hit the ceiling, as the blast wave incinerated and launched boxes across the loading area.
Wren landed on top of Estelle with shards of concrete smashing to the ground all around him, “Crazy bastard!” he breathed.
“Don’t you just love fireworks!” Corbin yelled over the crackle of fire as the room filled with smoke.
Fire alarms blared as the mall’s extinguisher system began dousing the room.
“You, okay?” Wren asked as he regained his knees.
Estelle, nodded.
Wren peered around his pallet with water dripping from his nose. Floods of water were cascading into the bay below. Corbin was nowhere to be seen through the smoke and debris.
“Who ordered the poxy shower?” Husky wanted to know over the radio.
“We both know, and I’m going to — ”
A boot connected with his jaw.
Darkness clouded Wren’s vision as he hit the floor.
“Gotcha,” Corbin sneered.
A shadow. Wren jinked aside.
Corbin’s boot missed his head by a whisker.
Wren went for the knee, wrapping and snapping at the joint with his legs.
The man splashed down with a cry of pain but slipped away.
“Why, Corbin? Why choose terrorism when you were so good at protecting the country?” Wren asked as he staggered to his feet.
“You killed my girlfriend. I couldn’t stand for a country that allowed that to happen.”
“Zara used you to get into England. She was always aligned with the Taliban.”
“Bullshit, that was your excuse to take her from me!” Corbin lunged from atop a pallet of shoe boxes.
Wren pushed Estelle to safety and yelped as he was smashed to the floor. He scored an uppercut and kicked free “The crazy woman had a backpack full of Semtex. She showed me the detonator and was going to detonate it in Waterloo Station. I had no choice but to stop her!”
Corbin came again, blood oozing from between his gritted teeth and mixing with the water cascading from his head. “There’s always a choice!”
The two exchanged blows until Wren’s back slammed into a work table. He dodged a haymaker, went low and hauled the man over his shoulder.
Corbin thundered over the table scattering paperwork on the way to the ground.
“There wasn’t and you know — ” Wren blocked a face full of trailer seals and jinked away, but too late Corbin unloaded a staple gun into his cheek.
“Your jewelry looks brutal!” he jeered.
Wren staggered feeling hot blood oozing toward his mouth. He flicked two fingers at his opponent, “Wear this instead!” He lowered his stance and charged. His back spasmed as he drove his shoulder into the man’s abdomen, stabbing pain flared in his shoulder as he lifted him and launched them both off the loading dock.
Corbin sailed into the side of a lorry with a hollow boom. He fell to the concrete eight feet below.
“Wren!” Husky yelled.
Estelle crawled to the loading bay and looked into the flooded depths for her fallen hero. She screamed as the barrel of a gun pressed against her forehead.
“Time to die, girl!” Corbin said looking toward the slumped heap that was Wren. A knife protruded from his left shoulder.
Wren looked through blurred vision, “Corbin no! She doesn’t need to die. What happened between us has nothing to do with her.”
“Please don’t shoot me,” Estelle begged crying tears of mortal fear.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. This’ll be painless.” Corbin sneered as he glanced back at Wren, ”Any last — ”
The knife plunged into his neck with a sickening crack as it hit and pinned him to the bumper of the lorry. Corbin’s eyes rolled as he slumped dead against the vehicle.
Wren had torn the weapon from his shoulder and attacked with his last ounce of strength. He fell into the water, gasping for air.
“Wren, buddy!” Husky jumped down beside him.
“I’m okay, get Estelle to safety,” he breathed.
“Roger that,” he said while hoisting his partner to his feet. Reaching out a friendly hand, Husky helped Estelle down from the dock and led her toward the exit. It was then the room glowed white as an explosion tore through the freight bay. The flood water had shorted the generators in the next room bringing the whole ceiling down.
A red Mazda drove away from the shopping mall. Its passenger window slid open allowing a yellow, smiling emoji balloon to emerge. This time it was inflated and floated away above the city.
A sniper watching nearby reported seeing a smiling girl and two injured but victorious SAS commandos in the back.
“Mission complete.”
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