“Have we stopped?” Paul asked as Gina continued to rub her head.

“I’ll just pop outside and check, shall I?” she scowled.

“Go ahead, with any luck we’re still moving,” he huffed even though he regretted the words as they come out of his mouth.

She crossed her arms and chose to ignore the comment. The tense silence was interrupted several seconds later when the doors of the van were flung open and two burley heavies appeared.

“Out,” snapped one.

“Not going to say please?” Paul chided and was promptly grabbed and held by the scruff as Gina shuffled out. A third heavy appeared and grabbed her arms, obviously warned she was likely to retaliate. Both Paul and Gina took a quick glance at their surroundings; wherever they were it was very dark with cobblestone roads. The heavies escorted Paul and Gina through a small, dank ally and into the back door of a rundown building. The building turned out to be a small hotel and they were quickly led up a flight of rickety old stairs and promptly locked in a dully-lit room.

“You know, I’m getting sick of hotels,” Paul mused as he looked for a bar fridge and was sorely disappointed that there wasn’t one. Gina sat uncomfortably on the bed and started poking the back of her head again. There was still a lump.

“Want me to have a look?” Paul asked, sitting next to her.

“It’s fine,” she replied and crawled up the bed to get comfortable.

“What’s got you suddenly so pissed off?” he asked, crawling up the bed to join her.

“Oh gee let’s see, I’ve been kidnapped, beaten over the head and locked in a hotel room with you?”

“Hey? I can understand the first two but what the hell have I done?”

“As usual you’ve wormed your way back into my life. You have no idea how I’ve tried to forget you, tried to move on, and then like some leech from the heavens you’re back to fuck me over and break my heart.”

“Fuck you over,” Paul exclaimed, getting to his feet. “If I remember correctly, you wormed your way back into my life last time. Actually, it was more barged back in like an elephant. And as for breaking your heart, how the fuck do you think I felt when you fucked off back here and left me?”

“You were all over Freya,” Gina spat getting to her feet.

“No, she was all over me. You should learn not to jump to conclusions.”

“Bit hard with your pants around your ankles.”

“Oh, so you saw exactly what happened, did you? You have proof we screwed each other blind on the bathroom floor?”

Gina opened her mouth and then stopped. He was right, she had no proof, only what she’d seen. Or at least what she thought she’d seen. “You told me you loved me, we renewed our vows.”

“I do love you,” Paul declared. “I told Freya to fuck off. I told her to fuck off tonight, too. She’s not the brightest bull in the paddock.”

Gina looked at Paul curiously and bit her lip, not out of frustration but to hold back a giggle at his stupid analogy. “Bull in the paddock?”

“Did I say that?” he asked blankly. She nodded. “You know what I meant.”

“A dreadlock short of a hippie?” she shrugged.

“Thirty seconds short of a good root,” Paul countered. Gina smiled and turned her eyes to her feet. “Look, can we call a truce and kill each other later? Providing the Neanderthal brothers don’t remove our livers first?”

“Fine, but if they want to kill one of us. it has to be you,” Gina nodded and held out her hand to seal the truce. Paul smiled and slid his hand into hers, gently tightened his grip, and pulled her into his arms. Gina, who was exhausted from shock, arguing, and lack of food, didn’t fight the comforting hug and she smiled at both the sweet smell of his aftershave and his nervous heartbeat.

Danny bounded out of his hotel room and made the trip down the hall to Gina’s room. He knocked casually and waited a few seconds as he expected her to be wrapped up with Paul and not pleased about being forced from the comfort of her bed. After a few seconds he knocked again, surprised she hadn’t opened the door; Gina was usually pretty prompt. Instinct told Danny to check the handle. He gripped it and it opened easily, gingerly Danny pushed the door aside and scanned the room. The bed had obviously not been slept in and her phone was lying between the pillows. No journalist goes anywhere without his or her phone, so Danny grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket. He noticed her dictaphone was sitting on the bedside table and grabbed that as well, before he hurried from the room and closed the door behind him.

Outside the hotel, Danny pondered his next move. Gina wouldn’t just disappear. The only other possibility was that she’d gone back to Paul’s hotel, which he knew was a block in the other direction. Still, it was worth a shot and he wanted desperately to catch up with her.

It didn’t take Danny long to get to Paul’s hotel. The walk in the mild summer sun was pleasant enough, even if he couldn’t fully enjoy it. Sauntering into the lobby he noticed Cameron conversing with someone he wasn’t familiar with. Danny sidled over and casually stood next to Cameron who looked at him strangely.

“If you want an interview, you just have to ask, because the whole subtle journo thing is shit.”

“Thanks mate. Actually I was wondering if you could tell me something?”

“Don’t mix your drinks, condoms do break, and call your mum,” Cameron nodded.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Do you know if Gina stayed with Paul last night?”

“I thought Paul stayed with Gina? We didn’t see him after he chased her out of the pub,” Cameron replied. “Why?”

“No reason, must have went for breakfast. Thanks,” Danny muttered and headed back outside. He started to head back to the other hotel as he scanned through Gina’s phone, seeing whom she’d last called. Danny was so distracted that when he collided with another person, the phone crashed to the ground, the back cover going in a different direction to the rest of the phone.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, dumbass,” Greg snapped, glaring at the panicked looking man in front of him.

“Mr. Proops, sorry…I’m sorry,” Danny babbled as he collected the bits of phone.

“So you should be,” Greg huffed.

“Sorry,” Danny said again, before an idea dawned on him. “Mr. Proops, Greg…You know Gina Coleman and Paul McDermott, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Greg nodded with a wry mile. “The hot blonde and the angry little man.”

“This is going to sound bizarre but do you know of any reason why they might disappear?”

“Disappear?” Greg said blankly.

“Yeah, I said it was bizarre. They ran into each other last night in the pub, they argued and no one has seen them since.”

“Maybe they just wanted some space.”

“Probably. It’s not like anyone would kidnap them, right?” Danny laughed.

Greg closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Greg sighed. “That her phone?”

“Yeah, nothing suspicious, her last call was to me,” Danny chided. “I grabbed her dictaphone too. Didn’t want the maid to lose it,” he added, pulling it from his pocket. Greg snatched it and rewound the tape a short way before pressing play, there was the end of an interview, a few spoken notes and then just as Greg was about to switch it off:

“Hope that bitch gets out the shower soon…I wouldn’t mind seeing her in the buff…Wait until we get her to Amsterdam…Shit, she’s coming out…get your gun ready…”

There was series of bangs, yelps and muffled talk, followed by a long silence. Danny looked at Greg wide-eyed. “What the fuck was that all about?” he gasped.

“Buddy, you don’t know what you’re part of,” Greg breathed. “I’ve got to make a phone call.”

“The police?”

“No, Brad and Fenny.”

“Fenny? What’s she got to do with this?”

Greg looked at Danny pitifully. “Come on, let’s get a drink and I’ll explain.”

“You’d better,” Danny breathed.

Gina rolled onto her back, the painful throbbing in her head had numbed but she still woke disorientated. She glanced beside her and saw Paul and it took her several seconds to remember why he was there. She felt compelled to reach out and touch his face and would have, had the door not burst open.

“You two, up,” demanded a bald heavy, his friends clearly visible in the hallway.

“Don’t wanna,” Paul groaned.

“What the fuck did you say?” snarled the bald heavy.

“I said, you inbred son of a bitch, I DON’T WANT TO.” The heavy sprung forward, producing a knife from his pocket and holding it to Paul’s throat. “What a shiny blade it has,” Paul swallowed.

“You won’t cut his throat,” Gina piped up.

“Won’t I?” replied the heavy.

“Nah, you’re too gutless,” Gina chided as she sat up.

“Genie,” Paul peeped.

“I’d fucking cut him into little pieces,” the heavy growled.

“So do it?” she sneered, “Slice him up then?”

“You know you don’t have…” Paul was silenced by the knife pressing harder on his throat. The heavy looked at Gina who was now standing with a raised eyebrow. The heavy let out a snort and pulled his knife back.

“Get up,” he spat as Paul grabbed his throat.

They were bustled out of the room, back into the now light ally and thrust into the waiting van. As the engine kicked in, Paul glared at Gina as she looked back amused.

“What?” she said innocently.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing back there?” he hissed.

“Weren’t scared, were you?”

“I had a knife to my jugular.”

“He wouldn’t have killed you.”

“You know this for sure, do you?”

“Yes. We’re being taken somewhere. No point in bumping us off before we get there,” she said smugly.

“Oh well that’s all right then,” he sarced.

“Hey, if I thought you were in any danger I would have pulverized his testicles,” Gina smirked.

“I’ll remember that next time my life is at stake,” Paul sneered.

“…And so we threw the lot into the Seine and left the scene as quickly as we could.” Greg finished his recollection and took a gulp of coffee.

“You’re having me on, right?” Danny gasped, looking even more shocked than before.

“I swear it’s all true, dude,” Greg nodded. “You don’t make that shit up.”

“So, this is where we call the Federal Police, army, marines, the fucking embassy or something?” Danny babbled.

“Are you insane? The last thing we want is to get people like that involved.”

“Oh, and Brad and Fen are going to take them on, are they?”

“We’ve done it before.”

“That may be, Greg, but if you haven’t noticed, it sounds like it’s Gina and Paul who usually do the saving,” Danny spat.

Greg looked blankly for a moment. “Good point.”

“So?”

“So we’ll need to be armed. I’ve got a call to make,” Greg declared as he left the table and headed to a payphone in the corner. Danny sculled the rest of his coffee and pinched himself to see if he was dreaming.

Fenny was woken by the shrill sound of the phone. She reached out an arm and pulled the receiver off the bedside table.

“Hello,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and fumbling with her free hand for her glasses.

“Fen, are you awake?”

Fenny looked at the clock – it was 3:45 am. “No.”

“Who is it?” Brad yawned.

“No idea,” Fenny replied.

“It’s GREG,” Greg hissed.

“Right, knew that,” Fenny jeered sleepily. “What do you want?”

“Well you know I’m in Edinburgh.”

“Are you? That’s nice.”

“Do you know who else is here?”

Fenny sat up, suddenly awake. “Gina and Paul.”

“They’ve disappeared.”

“What?”

“According to this dude Danny…”

“Danny? Dan’s there?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

“Of course, go on,” she breathed, nudging Brad.

“Gina and Paul had an argument last night in a pub, they left still arguing and haven’t been seen since. Gina’s phone was left in her room, as was her dictaphone which recorded this.” Greg played the few seconds of the kidnap down the phone, Brad now awake and listening too.

“Oh my god,” Fenny gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

“What do we do?” Greg asked.

“Head to Amsterdam,” Brad piped up.

“You guys are going to help, right?”

Fenny and Brad looked at each other. “Of course,” Fenny replied as Brad made gestures that suggested that they would not be going. He fell into an instant sulk.

“I think you two should go on ahead, we can meet somewhere when we get there,” Fenny suggested.

“Right and we’ll keep you updated with what we find,” Greg added.

“Good luck, we’ll call once we get somewhere useful.”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone,” Greg chided. They ended their conversation and Fenny leapt out of bed and started to throw clothes in a bag.

“What are you doing?” Brad gasped.

“We have to get the first flight from LAX, babe,” Fenny replied, grabbing a sweater from the bottom of a drawer.

“I’m sure Gina and Paul will be fine, if anyone is going to be fine it’ll be them.”

“You think? With Paul’s mouth and Gina’s acts of stupidity?”

“Good point,” Brad nodded and reluctantly pulled himself out of bed. “Did I hear correctly that Mr. Brannigan is over there?”

“Yes, I assume he’s working or vacationing or something,” she shrugged, grabbing the phone again. “Here, call and find out when the next flight is.”

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed. “I don’t know why we need to go.”

“Because they’re our friends, they’d do it for us and above all else, IT’S YOUR FAULT!”

“How is it my fault?” he pouted.

“Remember how we got caught up in that shit last time, you and your damn bag,” Fenny spat as she zipped up her bag. “I bet that’s who’s behind it, Don.”

Brad didn’t have the energy to argue and had the distinct feeling there was more behind Fenny’s outburst than the obvious. He reached across the bed to Fenny’s nightstand to grab her phone book to look up the airline number. He’d better just get on with it and keep the peace.

“Well?” Danny asked eagerly when Greg returned.

“They’re getting the next flight over,” Greg replied. “In the meantime, we need to rent a car and go on ahead, try and locate them.”

“What? That’s impossible.”

“Not as impossible as you might think. Besides, we know they’re going to Amsterdam,” Greg said pointedly.

Danny nodded in agreement. “Did you say we?”

“Yeah buddy, you’re in this too,” Greg smiled. “Besides, we need your muscle.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“We better get a move on, we need our passports and a few maps.”

“I’ll get the maps if you get the car,” Danny offered.

“Ok, I’ll call when I get the car,” Greg nodded as Danny handed him a business card. They both got to their feet and headed toward the door.

“This is just the freakiest thing I’ve ever been involved in,” Danny breathed.

“You’ve never met the Crispin sisters,” Greg mused. “Yet.”

“No, hey?” Danny squeaked as he followed Greg into the sunlight.

“You still shitty with me?” Gina asked, shuffling over to sit beside Paul.

“You egged that ogre on,” Paul huffed.

“I know, it was wrong and naughty,” Gina sighed, “and a bit funny.”

“It wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah it was,” she smirked.

“You evil little minx,” Paul said, a hint of amusement slipping into his voice.

“I would never have let that brute ruin that pretty face of yours,” she teased as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“I’m absolutely starving,” she replied. “I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.”

“Last time I had to sing songs from Jesus Christ Superstar to get fed.”

“Whatever it takes, as long as you don’t sing anything from Starlight Express“.

“Or Cats, I hate Cats.”

“I like Cats.”

“I’m not comfortable with any beast being referred to as the Rum Tum Tugger.”

“So you’ve seen the musical then?” Gina chided, lifting her head.

“We were very drunk and there was little in London we hadn’t seen,” Paul replied coyly.

“I bet you sang along.”

He looked sheepish. “I got into a fight with Mr. Mistoffelees afterwards.”

She giggled at the image of Paul wrestling with a man in a black Lycra cat suit and quickly found herself struggling to take her eyes from him. They were still studying each other when the van came to a sudden stop. They’d noticed earlier that they were obviously travelling over a bumpier dirt road, but had chosen to ignore it. They felt the weight shift from the front of the van, the sound of heavy boots thumping over wet grass, then the back of the van was opened, the daylight stinging their eyes.

“Hiya fellas,” Paul smiled.

“Out,” snarled a hirsute heavy, who grabbed Paul and intentionally flung him to the ground. Gina clambered out to assist Paul who winced as he got off the ground, but was pushed in the back.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Where do you fink?” spat the bald heavy.

Gina scanned the area as she was shoved in the back again; it was clearly an abandoned airfield. A small plane was sitting on a barely-there dirt runway a few metres away.

“Are we going in that?” Paul asked, dusting himself off and moving quickly to avoid being shoved to the ground again. The heavies chose to ignore their comments and ushered them toward the waiting plane. There were two people waiting on the runway: another burly-looking bonehead and someone Paul recognised.

“I know her,” Paul whispered moving closer to Gina. “Don the dick fighter met with her in France.”

“She looks like a warm human being,” Gina muttered as the woman stubbed her cigarette out on the ground.

“Claudia,” Paul announced as the got close to the plane. The woman looked at him strangely and he attempted to look innocent, not having meant for her to hear.

“Yes?” she asked in a thick French accent, looking menacingly at Paul. “How do you know my name?”

“Lucky guess,” Paul replied with a raised eyebrow.

A wry smile spread across Claudia’s face and she stepped forward and clasped Paul’s face in her bony hands. “Look, little man, I don’t know who you are, and personally, I don’t really care.” Her ruby red nails dug into his flesh. “But you cost me a lot of money last time you were in my country, and whether you like it or not, you’re going to help me get it back”

“Hey, Claudia, is it?” Gina piped up, not liking the look in Claudia’s eye.

Claudia looked at her with the utmost contempt. “Yes.”

“You ever lay one of your painted claws on my husband again and I’ll insert my size seven somewhere quite painful,” Gina declared.

“You don’t scare me,” Claudia laughed.

“I should,” Gina said blankly and watched as Claudia produced a small gun from her purse.

“Passports,” Fenny announced.

“Check,” Brad replied

“Money.”

“Check.”

“Maps.”

“Check.”

“Lonely Planet Guide to Europe.”

“Check.”

“Well, I think that’s everything important,” Fenny sighed. “Luggage really hasn’t been an issue on these kind of trips.”

“No, funny that,” Brad replied as there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Fenny announced. “Who’d be wanting us at 7am?” She padded over to the front door and pulled it open. To her horror, Ritza stood there smiling sweetly, a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hi, sorry I’m so early,” Ritza perked.

“Early?” Fenny said blankly.

“Yeah, Brad said I should come to town for a break….”

“Did he?” Fenny mumbled moving aside to let her in. “BRADLEY.”

Brad bounded into the living room and looked at Ritza who was looking a bit confused. “You never told her, huh?”

“Slipped my mind,” Brad lied. “But this is great timing.”

“It is?” Fenny admonished.

“Well, she’s exactly the type of person we need to hunt down a psychopath,” Brad perked. “No offence,” he added, looking at Ritza.

“Psychopath?” Ritza said, raising an eyebrow.

“Remember I told you about Don…” Brad began.

“You told her about Don?” Fenny gasped.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ritza replied.

“We think he’s kidnapped Gina and Paul.”

“Christ. Well if you need help,” Ritza nodded.

“We’ll be fine,” Fenny huffed.

“Fen, we could do with all the help we can get,” Brad scowled. “So you want to come to Europe with us?”

“Takes a psycho to know a psycho, right?” Ritza perked as Fenny glared at Brad.

“Excellent! I’ll call a cab and we’ll get to the airport,” Brad chirped. “This is going to be great,” he added, grabbing the phone.