James

Despite the cold, my heated face streams sweat which soaks down my neck and into my clothes.

Slow down, Man…

You can’t sprint for a mile…

I drop to a trot and my heartbeat decelerates to something more sustainable. The banging behind my ears subsides.

Don’t panic…

The kidnappers may say Don’t be late, but their priority is the money.

Irony slaps me around the cheeks. Here I am, in an area I wouldn’t normally consider walking at night, certainly not alone. And I’m running through it, toting a bag containing a cool million in cash.

The steady rhythm of my jogging sets a metronome ticking in my head, clearing my thoughts.

How fast is a jog?

Six miles an hour?

So, I should cover my mile in the ten minutes I have.

Calm down…

Nonetheless, I find myself counting paces; eating up distance with each one…

They must be watching me…

Where are they watching from?

A parked car?

pass, where they can lurk

Could be anywhere.

alongside the river. Once an attractive place for pleasure boats and day-trippers; now

reputable parts of town. As the name

The fountain, also floodlit, dances and sparkles by the central Christmas tree which

think of one or two exceptions to that

the Square, for a moment I drop, hands resting on knees as I regain my

For what?

scanning

I in the

“James?”

arrived, Ross, but I don’t see

did the message say,

the note, reading aloud. “Corner of

extend right along behind the western side of the square. Perhaps

Stupid… Stupid…

I’ll go

down, James. Keep

reply. He’s right, but I don’t need reminding of

red-bricks built on three

Still nothing.

my breathing tightens again as I look for

Doorways…

Store windows…

A mailbox…

Nothing…

they make it hard

begins to bubble inside me. My watch tells

must be watching

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