“I don’t like surprises,” Gina announced under her breath as she and Paul were lead toward the door of the plane.

“You don’t think they’re holding a party for us then?” Paul shrugged as a heavy poked him in the back.

“Can’t see any party hats,” Gina chided as she looked around an airstrip that was reminiscent of the one they’d left in England.

“What about feathered curly toots?” Paul asked.

“What?”

“Never mind,” he mumbled as they were escorted onto the damp, boggy grass. By this time Claudia and Don were standing together talking in hushed voices again, and the heavies stood around like lost orangutans.

“I thought we had a surprise?” Paul announced, raising an eyebrow.

“You do,” Don replied as he sauntered over to Paul.

“Do I get a hint?” Paul asked.

Don rested a hand on his shoulder. “How’s this?” he sneered and thrust his fist into Paul’s stomach. Paul let out a shocked gasp and was quickly greeted by another fist to the abdomen.

“Get off him, you arsehole,” Gina spat and grabbed one of Don’s arms. Don grabbed Gina by the throat, squeezing until she had to gasp for breath.

“Want me to crush your windpipe?” he asked coolly.

Paul, who’d managed to regain a somewhat normal breathing pattern, gave Don a sharp kick to one of his legs. Don let out a yelp and let go of Gina, who fell to the grass gasping.

“Get him,” Don ordered, motioning to his heavies.

“Oh crap,” Paul mumbled as he felt a series of fists and feet launch an attack on him. Gina looked on helplessly as she felt her breathing steady slightly; Don pulled her roughly to her feet.

“You know Claudia, I think these two are going to be trouble.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you, Donald,” Claudia mused as she clicked her fingers and the heavies stopped assaulting Paul, whose only response was a weak groan.

“How about we split the darlings up?” Don suggested.

“Mmm, I like your way of thinking,” Claudia smiled. “I’ll take the cocky one and you can have…” she paused and looked Gina up and down, “the girl.”

“You read my mind,” Don sneered as he walked back over to Paul and pressed the sole of his boot on his throat. “I’ll take good care of the little lady, just like that yank.”

Paul muttered something undecipherable and then closed his eyes. Gina felt herself verging on tears. This wasn’t just a kidnapping anymore, this was much more.

Greg dropped the Styrofoam cup into the waiting bin and glanced around for Danny, who was bounding toward him looking pleased with himself.

“My, you look happy,” Greg mused. “Did a girl talk to you?”

“Several,” Danny replied with a smile. “They also helped me pick out these,” he added, and handed Greg a map of Amsterdam.

“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Greg sighed as he surveyed the countless tiny streets that made up the centre of Amsterdam.

“Have you been before?”

“A long time ago and no, I don’t know any Dutch.”

“Mandy told me they speak a bit of German and French too.”

“Mandy?”

“One of the girls I met getting the maps.”

“Oh right,” Greg nodded. “So you know any Dutch?”

“I know ‘Ja,’ which is yes,” Danny perked.

“Oh, well that’s helpful, when Gina and Paul are about to get their throats slit and we’re lost in…” he paused and looked at the map, “Munt, then we’ll yell ‘Ja, Ja, Ja,’ shall we?”

“Keep your hair on, mate,” Danny huffed. “I picked up this as well,” he said, opening a Lonely Planet guide to the Netherlands.

“Anything useful?” Greg asked, still looking at the map bewildered.

“Dat hangt er van af.”

“Hey?”

“That depends?”

“On what?”

“Waren er enige getuigen?”

“Are you choking?”

“I said, were there any witnesses?”

“To what?”

“Moord.”

“Moord?” Greg said, exasperated.

“Murder,” Danny shrugged.

“I’m confiscating that book,” Greg declared and snatched the book from Danny.

“Prick,” Danny huffed. “Oh hey, we can board,” he added.

“Oh, well now I’m excited,” Greg sighed, passing the book back to Danny.

“You couldn’t be any more fun if you tried, you know that?” Danny spat as they headed toward the door marked ‘departures’.

“Well I don’t know about you, crocodile man, but I don’t enjoy the prospect of the unknown. Especially when it’s likely to involve me getting hurt,” Greg scorned.

“Coward,” Danny chided.

“We’ll see how tough you are when a gun is aimed at your face,” Greg spat and pushed past Danny and through the doors.

“Varken,” Danny mumbled and followed.

Back on the plane, Fenny was counting down the entire seven hours and ten minutes until the damn thing landed again. Brad and Ritza had fallen back into conversation about their children, and Fenny was feeling an increasing need to use the complementary sick bag — to shove down Ritza’s throat.

“Did I tell you Gussy’s latest fad?” Ritza perked.

“It’s not Barbie, is it?” Brad teased.

“No, nothing like that. He loves The Wiggles.”

“They’re the guys in the bright skivvies, right?”

“That’s right. If I hear ‘Wake up Jeff’ just one more time, I might just kill someone.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Fenny muttered into the in-flight magazine she was reading for the fifth time.

“Fen,” Brad sighed.

“Unfortunately, I missed out blowing a hole through your head,” Ritza spat.

“Ritz,” Brad pleaded.

“Well, she’s been riding me since LA,” Ritza huffed.

“You tried to kill me,” Fenny scowled.

“Let it go,” Ritza sighed.

“Yeah Fen, let it go, huh? Let bygones be bygones,” Brad soothed.

“Bygones? SHE TRIED TO KILL ME,” Fenny screamed.

Brad’s hand shot to her mouth and he smiled apologetically at the people who were staring. “Video game fanatics, the pair of ’em.”

“You always have to intrude on my life, why can’t you just fuck off?” Fenny snarled, glaring at Ritza.

“I’m here because I want to help your friends, it’s the least I can do,” Ritza snarled back, “and I only came to the States because Brad begged me, I have no intention to intrude, all I want is what is best for my son.”

“Nice speech, would you like an Oscar?” Fenny spat.

“Grow up,” Brad muttered.

Fenny unclipped her seatbelt and shoved her way past Brad and Ritza and hurried down the aisle to lock herself in the toilet.

“She has serious issues,” Ritza huffed.

“Shut up, please,” Brad sighed as he rubbed his face, not sure what to do now, although parachuting into the ocean below was looking the best option at that moment.

“Is he ok?” Gina asked as Don headed toward her. Paul was still motionless on the grass.

“I hope not,” Don sneered and grabbed Gina’s arm.

“PAUL!” she screamed as Don started to drag her toward his waiting black sports car. “PAUL!”

Paul painfully managed to get to his knees and looked in Gina’s direction; she saw the blood that was trickling down his face even from a distance. Paul touched his fingers to the damp spot on his face and wasn’t to surprised to see his fingers come away bloody.

“Not going to try and save her, are you?” Claudia asked, “You wouldn’t do anything stupid now, would you?”

Paul was about to declare he would when he felt a gun barrel pushed into the side of his head. “GENIE!” he yelled as he watched his wife get thrust into the back of Don’s car. Don grinned as he slid into the driver’s seat; Paul watched the car speed off as he was pulled to his feet.

“Time to take our new friend home,” Claudia chirped as she headed to a big, old Bentley parked not far away.

“The excitement,” Paul muttered as he limped toward the waiting vehicle. He had two options: carry out whatever this mad French woman had planned and end up dead in a shallow grave in a field of tulips, or attempt to escape with the possibility of ending up dead in a shallow grave in a field of tulips. Then, he thought as he was shoved in the back of the Bentley, if he did escape, he’d have to find out where Don had taken Gina, and hopefully rescue her before that bastard did, well, anything.

Claudia slid into the seat beside him, lighting another cigarette and pouting in what she thought was sexy manner. “Home Gerard,” she announced, and as the car started to move, she looked back at Paul. One of her hands crept onto his thigh.

“I’m uncomfortable with your manner of touching,” Paul said blankly.

“Good,” Claudia sneered as her hand headed toward his groin. Paul, back of a car or not, crossed his legs and focussed his attention out of the window. Claudia tutted, “Going to play hard to get, are we?”

“There’s nothing hard where you’re concerned,” Paul spat and Claudia let out a sharp breath and then dropped some cigarette ash into a small ashtray on the armrest.

“Enjoying Amsterdam?” Don asked, looking at Gina in the rear-view mirror. Gina ignored him, crossed her arms and looked out of the window. “I asked you a question?”

“Congratulations, you can form a sentence.”

“Fine, I’ll just savor the moments when you scream for mercy later.”

“I wouldn’t give you the pleasure.”

“But you will.”

“Not if I remove your testicles with a butterknife first.”

“Such tough words. But let’s face it,” Don smiled. “There’s no one to save you this time.”

“I think you’ll find I saved myself last time,” Gina scowled. “Pulverized your balls in the process.” Don pulled up harshly at the side of the road and stepped out of the car. He flung open the door closest to Gina and pulled her to her feet. He pushed her back against the car, gripped her face in his hands and inserted a leg between hers so she couldn’t kick him.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? All those big words and brazen moves?” His face moved closer to Gina’s and she could smell his coffee-tinted breath. “Whether you like it or not, you’re going to help me get all that money back you and your little friends lost, and when you’re not doing that…” his voice trailed of as he looked down her body. His hands moved too, and rested on her breasts “…we’re going to have our own fun.” He squeezed her breasts and she more than ever wanted to react. The best she could do was spit in his face.

“BITCH!” Don snapped and slapped her hard. Gina was then bustled into the back of the car and they took off again toward the city.

It took little time for Greg and Danny to arrive in Amsterdam. They bustled out of the terminal and looked blankly around.

“Okay, what do we do now?” Greg asked.

Danny thought for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he declared and disappeared back in the terminal. He returned a few moments later with several pamphlets. “We need a car right?”

“That would be a start,” Greg agreed and was handed a pamphlet of a local car hire company. “Do you know where this place is?”

“Not a clue” Danny shrugged.

“Excuse me?” asked a man with a strong Dutch accent. “Are you gentlemen looking for a car?”

“Yeah,” Danny nodded. Greg looked at the well-dressed man suspiciously — it seemed odd for him just to appear, but he seemed nice enough.

“I have several cars, just around the corner, some people like to get cars straight from the airport,” the man continued.

“You got any ID?” Greg piped up and was quickly handed a business card that was conveniently written completely in Dutch, apart from the phone number that looked more like a barcode.

“Please, show us,” Danny perked. “C’mon,” he added, and Greg reluctantly followed as they were lead a short distance away into a tight alley. There were three new looking cars parked with stickers in the windows that matched the tiny logo from the business cards.

“I like that dark green one,” Danny perked and patted the bonnet of the most sporty looking of the cars.

“I’ll get you the paperwork,” the man smiled and removed a black folder from the back seat of one of the cars. As Danny set about filling it out, Greg looked over the car, still convinced the whole situation was surreal, but then he was also convinced the Dutch were all demented.

“Thank you very much,” the man who Greg, trying to decipher the business card, had decided was called ‘Bjorn’ smiled. “And here is your key.”

“I’ll take that,” Greg declared and snatched the key.

“Have a safe journey,” Bjorn announced as Danny and Greg slid into the car. They took off out of the ally, Greg looking in the rear vision mirror and noticing that Bjorn was already talking animatedly on his cell phone.

“So, what direction should we head in?” Danny asked, pulling a map from his bag and trying to work out where they were.

“Anything noteworthy around?” Greg asked. “Dockyards? Unmarked tunnels…”

“Disused airstrip,” Danny suggested.

“Where?” Greg asked.

“About 20 k’s out of town,” Danny replied.

“Which way is out of town?”

Danny shrugged. “What side of the road do you have to drive on?”

Greg shrugged. “Whatever side doesn’t get me arrested.”

“Fen, there are people out here whose bladders are about the explode,” Brad announced, knocking on the lavatory door. He heard a click and the door opened a little.

“Liar,” Fenny scowled, but Brad was quick and jammed his foot in the door before pushing his way into the tiny cubicle with her. Fenny looked at him angrily as they stood just centimetres apart. She had run to the toilet to let the anger that was burning inside her ease and not to cry, as she so recently would have done.

“Want to talk about it?” Brad asked.

“Not really. You’ll just stick up for her like you always do,” Fenny huffed.

“I haven’t stuck up for her,” Brad defended. “In fact, I told her to shut up.”

“You told me to grow up.”

“Well I think you’re being unreasonable.”

“She tried to kill me.”

“She shot me and I’m over it.”

“Yeah, well you’re…you’re…stupid.”

“We’re married, I now take all your insults as foreplay.”

“See, I said you were stupid,” she said wryly, her resolve crumbling at the amusement of the entire situation.

“Fen,” Brad cooed, his hands squeezing the tops of her arms as he moved closer. “I know you don’t like Ritz, but can you try and get along for my sake?”

Fenny caught the pleading look in his eyes and felt her last bit of resolve melt. “I’ll try, but…”

“Promise me,” Brad demanded, his body now pressed up against hers.

“I don’t think I…” His lips connected with her neck and she felt a small gasp escape her own. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” he breathed as his lips continued working over her neck. She went limp in his arms, her fingers running through his hair.

“You ever joined the mile high club?” she asked through soft breaths.

“A long time ago,” he replied coyly. “I think it was a stewardess.” Actually it’d been Ritza, but he liked his testicles too much to admit it at that moment. “Have you?”

“Are you mad,” she giggled as helifted his head to look at her.

“You are now,” he grinned, and before she could argue, he pulled her t-shirt over her head and started working on the button of her jeans. Fenny clawed at his belt as he propped her against the sink and pulled her jeans off. They kissed hungrily and ferociously, and Fenny made a quick mental note that, providing Paul wasn’t hanging from a meat hook when they found him, she’d have to rub it in that she’d done something he hadn’t managed yet.

“Oh, you’ve been abandoned,” a steward mused as he stopped his trolley next to Ritza and looked at the empty seats next to her.

“Yeah, they’re fucking in the toilet,” Ritza mused. “So they shouldn’t be long.”

The steward sniggered, “Drink?”

“Please,” Ritza sighed, “I’ll need something to cope with their pawing over each other.”

“I’ll knock on my way back, ask them if they need any protection,” jeered the steward with a wink as he handed Ritza a beer and then continued down the aisle.

Paul looked at his watch and saw that it had taken only half an hour to reach the small side street where Claudia’s apartment was. It overlooked one of the canals and was spacious and looked expensive. Of the three heavies that were present, one quickly left and the other two disbanded into another room, and from what Paul could hear they were watching television.

“Drink?” Claudia asked as she strode over to a decanter filled with a dark golden liquid. Paul would have drunk the lot but decided it was best he stayed sober and focussed. He shook his head as he stood in the middle of the room.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Claudia cooed as she sipped the liquid in her glass. “Not all good.”

“What do you want from us?” Paul asked bluntly.

“We want our money and our drugs, but that’s really got more to do with your…” she paused as if choosing her next words carefully “…wife than you. No, we have other plans for you.”

“Like?”

“It’s a surprise,” Claudia smiled. “Oh, won’t you relax,” she added and sunk onto a large padded couch.

“Where has Gina been taken?” Paul asked, stepping forward a little.

“No idea, darling. A friend of a friend, I imagine,” she sighed, grabbing her bag and removing her cigarettes. “Do sit down,” she added, dropping the bag on the floor.

“You’re right, I’m being rude,” he smiled, surprising her, and moved to sit beside her on the couch. “Can I have a cigarette?” he added.

“Certainly, darling,” she purred and opened her packet. He removed one of the cancer sticks as she passed him her lighter. He stuck the end of the cigarette in his mouth and went to light it, but he fumbled with the lighter and it dropped to the floor.

“Butterfingers,” he grinned impishly. She gave a throaty chuckle as he fumbled on the floor for the lighter.

“I tell you what,” she cooed. “You do nasty things to me, and I won’t let Don do nasty things to you?”

Paul studied her a moment. “Sounds like a fair deal to me.”

Claudia got to her feet and held out a hand. Paul took it and she lead him into the bedroom. The bed was covered in a fleecy red blanket, the curtains looked heavy and matched. It reminded Paul of a cheesy early 20th century boudoir.

“Sit,” she demanded, and he sat himself on the end of the bed. She carefully unzipped her black knee-high boots and let her dress fall to the floor. All she had on was a pair of black see through panties, garter belt and stockings. She stepped forward and straddled Paul, her lips engulfing his in a lustful kiss. Her hand made light work of the buttons of his shirt as they both crept up the bed. She was surprised when he rolled her onto her back, titillated when he straddled her, and stunned when he pulled her gun from his sock and aimed it at her head.

“Scream and I ruin your sheets,” Paul scowled, low enough to scare her but not alert the heavies. She was right where he wanted her, near naked and vulnerable.

“Touché,” Claudia breathed.

“Don’t move,” he ordered and clambered off of her, not moving the aim of the gun, and searching for something to tie her up with. Visions of Australia burst into his head and he grabbed the curtain ties, remembering how Gina had before. Paul made quick work of tying Claudia up and then hunted for a gag. He found a silk scarf on the dresser.

“You must love her,” Claudia sighed as Paul wrapped the scarf around the back of her head. “To risk your life like this.”

“Damn right I do. And if that fuckwit lays a finger on her, I’ll kill him,” he said aggressively as he pulled the scarf tightly through her mouth, making her squeak. Paul headed toward the door, the gun now in the back of his pants. “By the way,” he mused, stopping to look back over at the hog-tied Claudia. “You’re about as arousing as an enema.” He closed the door as he left room, hurried out of the apartment and ran into what was now night as a million thoughts ran through his head, the most prominent being where Gina might be.

It was getting dark when Greg and Danny found themselves surrounded by the flat Netherlands countryside.

“Have we got plenty of fuel?” Danny asked.

Greg looked at the dashboard. “Yep,” he nodded.

“Then why are we slowing?”

Greg had thought something was wrong, but had failed to work out what, but now it seemed quiet obvious and he felt sudden surge of déjà vu. “Oh fuck.”

“What?” Danny asked.

“We have to get out of this car.”

“Why?”

“When I stop the car, grab your stuff and run and don’t stop.”

“Why?”

Greg wasn’t listening to questions. He pulled to the side of the quiet road abruptly and grabbed his bag from the back. “Come on, go,” he yelled as he stumbled out of the car. Danny grabbed his bag and stepped out of the car. He saw Greg running and sprinted to catch up with him.

“Why are we running, what’s happening?” Danny begged.

“DOWN,” Greg yelled and pulled Danny onto the ground in a nearby field.

“For fuck’s sake, Proops, tell…” Danny’s last few words didn’t make it out his mouth before a huge explosion filled the night sky. Shrapnel flew in all directions, leaving the car little more than twisted metal and burning rubber.

“Jesus Christ,” Danny gasped.

“They know we’re here,” Greg sighed and buried his face in the earth.