Gina and Fenny slipped out of the ‘arrivals’ door and into Gatwick. They tried to subtly look around them in case there were heavies lurking. Fenny almost gave the game away when she was nearly wiped out by a luggage trolley.

“Christ,” she hissed, rubbing her knee as the woman with the trolley yelled something at her in Welsh.

“Yes Fen, let’s be inconspicuous,” Gina huffed and dragged her toward the check in desk.

“Hey, I didn’t ask to have the lower half of my left leg seriously damaged, you know,” Fenny grumbled.

They spent several minutes negotiating with the girl at the desk who spoke in a thick Irish accent before heading for the duty free to waste time. Gina perused a selection of perfumes while Fenny tried to look interested in some tacky souvenirs.

“I should get one of these for my Dad,” she mused, holding up a small wooden Palace Guard.

“He’d probably think the Queen is protected by tiny folk,” Gina chided turning to look at the selection of souvenirs. Fenny heard her father’s voice in her head ranting about how useless the British were and decided that perhaps the Palace Guard wasn’t such a good idea. She looked at the next shelf where there was a selection of union jack boxer shorts.

“Hey Gina, think Greg would be amused if we…” Fenny paused when she noticed Gina was transfixed on something over the far side of the terminal. “What?”

“Don’s goons, over near the entrance,” Gina whispered, for no real reason since they were hardly going to hear her.

“Oh shit,” Fenny gasped. “What do we do?”

“We could hide in the toilets?” Gina shrugged.

“I’m still not comfortable with that phrasing,” Fenny muttered as Gina led the way from the small shop. They kept as calm as they could as they edged toward the restrooms. Fenny noticed a quieter corridor with a facilities sign and so they hurried for that one. The heavies never looked up. Once in the relative security of the corridor, they caught their ragged, nervous breaths.

“So far so good,” Gina breathed.

“I just hope they’re not catching our plane,” Fenny agreed.

“Oh, knowing our luck, we’ll be seated next to them,” Gina sighed. She noticed Fenny’s eyes suddenly go wide and she turned to see a large, burley man in a suit approach them. He was obviously a heavy.

Paul found himself lying on a large four poster bed. The sheets were pure white and he noted they made him think of clouds. He sat up and noticed he was in the most horrendous pair of white satin pajamas. They made him feel like Hugh Hefner, and for a brief moment he wondered if he was about to be descended upon by a selection of scantily dressed Playboy bunnies. The room suddenly filled with a bright light. It hurt his eyes, and he was forced to reel back and cover them. When he felt the heat from the light die down, he moved his arm. His mouth fell open; Gina was standing there in sheer, white lingerie, complete with the white knee high boots she’d worn at their wedding, and an alluring pair of angel wings.

“Genie, what are you doing here?” he gasped, getting to his knees. She raised an eyebrow and approached the bed. She glided onto the end and he fell back as her cold hands caressed his torso.

“Oh Genie, am I glad to see you,” he grinned as she pushed him back further on the bed.

“Well, if you insist,” she smiled slightly and dipped down to kiss him. He waited for her lips to touch his, but they didn’t.

Paul woke with a start and found his hands and feet bound tightly and a gag tied through his mouth. He felt claustrophobic and screamed through the linen in his mouth as he thrashed about. When he stopped, out of breath, sweating and exhausted, he realised the truck had stopped. A fleeting thought about being abandoned passed through his mind but he pushed it back and wriggled to the door. He lay on his back and lifted his legs before pushing them forward again and kicking the door. He kicked it as hard as he could and for as long as he could until he heard the creaking of the lock and the light seeped in.

“I’m gonna fucking kill ‘im,” hissed a voice.

“Was he banging out the theme to Friends?” said another.

“C’mon, we’ve got an hour until we get to have some fun with little fuck,” cackled a third silhouetted figure. The door was closed again and Paul was once again left in darkness. He let out anther pained cry as he realised all the kicking he’d done had made his other injuries flare up. As the truck roared into life, he felt his body scream with disapproval.

“Are you Fenny and Gina?” asked the heavy.

“Who wants to know?” Gina asked.

“Just answer the question.”

Gina and Fenny looked at each other. “Yeah, we are,” Fenny nodded.

“Come with me,” the heavy said and motioned with his head down the corridor. Gina and Fenny looked at each other. “Trust me.” They cautiously followed the man until he came to a stop at the end of the corridor, with a door sign that read “storeroom.”

“That the tour over then?” Gina piped up.

“Wait in there,” the man ordered.

“Do we have a choice?” Fenny asked.

“Do you want to argue with me?” asked the man as he opened the door. The light was already on, and Gina and Fenny gingerly made their way inside, not sure what they were in for. Fenny sat herself on a box while Gina leaned against the wall. They eyed each other off.

“Think this is where we’re gonna die?” Gina asked.

“I’d like to think I’d get bumped off in the fresh air and not breathing in bleach,” Fenny sighed.

“Did Greg ever tell you about how he was saved by cleaning implements?” Gina asked, playing with the end of a mop.

“No, somehow it never came up.”

“Just imagine a drunken Ryan Stiles armed with a mop.”

Fenny gave small laugh despite the tension in the air. They both jumped when the door opened the large man reappeared, followed by Brad in his wrinkled suit with a bandage around his head.

“BRAD!” Fenny shrieked and got instantly to her feet.

“Fen,” Brad smiled before wincing in pain. Fenny looked at the large man as if waiting his approval for her to see her husband. “Oh, Fen, Gina this is Beven, he’s on our side.”

“Am I?” Beven mused, leaning against the closed door.

Fenny ignored the comment and hurried to Brad. She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Never get caught up in illegal gambling,” Brad breathed, holding her just as tightly. “Especially with childish villains.”

“Things were fine until a few of the boys had a bit too much to drink and started shooting the place up,” Beven grumbled. “Then some wanker broke a bottle of vodka over laughing boy here.”

“Are you okay?” Fenny gasped as her fingers touched the bandage.

“Twelve stitches in the back of my head,” Brad perked. “My hair will grow over it though.” Fenny buried her face in his shoulder again.

“You’re lucky, Fen nearly had a new career,” Gina piped up as she felt a stab of jealously. She’d have done anything to wrap her arms around Paul.

“What type of career?” Brad asked.

“Prostitute,” Beven mused.

“Oh my god,” Brad gasped. “You didn’t?”

“No, Gina arrived just in time to save my ass.”

“She’s still wearing the red lingerie though,” Gina smiled wickedly.

“Really?” Brad grinned.

“We’re in an airport terminal storeroom, and there are two other people in the room, don’t even think about it,” Fenny said quickly.

“Aw come on, just a little look,” Brad pouted and peeked down the top of her sweater.

“Hey,” she squealed as he nuzzled into her neck. “I was so worried,” she whispered so the other two couldn’t hear it.

“Hey Blondie,” Beven announced, looking over at Gina. “Come here.”

Gina sauntered over, glad of a distraction from Brad and Fenny, and stood near Beven.

“The small vocal one, he’s your fella, right?”

“Yeah, is he okay? Do you know?” Gina asked, her voice coming out in the panicking tone she was feeling.

“I think so, although the guys he’s with are pretty fucking rough.”

“Jesus,” Gina breathed, pulling on her fingers.

“Look, from what I’ve heard is they’re gonna make him sell the goods at a nightclub in Glasgow, tonight.”

“But there are loads of nightclubs in Glasgow, that’s like a needle in a haystack.”

“Nah it’s not,” Beven perked. “You’re not stupid, think about it. What type of club would Don send someone to?”

Gina wracked her brains trying to think of all the places Paul had mentioned he’d danced until dawn at, the places she already knew, and Don. Her eyes went wide and she clicked her fingers. “THE SAVOY.”

“We never had this conversation,” Beven warned.

“What conversation?” Gina shrugged.

“Your flight should be boarding.”

“Huh? Oh right,” Gina smiled. “Fen, we have a flight to catch.”

Fenny lifted her head from where it’d been comfortably resting on Brad’s shoulder. “Damn. Oh well, at least we’re together now.”

“I’m not going with you,” Brad swallowed. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Fenny said, trying to keep her emotions at bay.

“Because if he plays the next card game and wins, he’s got a fucking chance of getting Don off your back,” Beven announced.

“But you were nearly killed.”

“No I wasn’t, a few people got out of control,” Brad soothed.

“As long as I’m there, he’s fine,” Beven added. “He’s my responsibility.”

Fenny squeezed Brad tightly. She couldn’t see how he could just walk straight back into it.

“I’ll be fine,” Brad whispered. As he caressed her cheek, he tilted her face toward him and kissed her gently. Fenny felt tears well up in her eyes as she tried to make the kiss last as long as she could. When Brad pulled away, she buried her face into his chest.

“I love you so much, don’t you dare do anything stupid,” she sniffed.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Brad cooed and kissed the top of her head as Beven moved away from the door.

Gina grabbed Fenny’s wrist and dragged her out of the storeroom. “Later,” she waved.

“He’s never called me sweetheart before,” Fenny swallowed as she used the cuff of her sweater to wipe away her tears.

“Oh, he’s just a hunk of manhood,” Gina teased as she put an arm around Fenny, who managed a small giggle.

Danny looked to where Ritza was sitting by the window and was seemingly fascinated in the clouds as they flew over the channel. Greg was pretending to be interested in the in-flight radio news programme and would break the uncomfortable silence by declaring things like “Hey, there’s been a fire in a church in Norway,” and “Bush makes me ashamed to be an American.” Danny still couldn’t get the image of them together out of his head. For starters, Greg was married and had a rather soft, gooey spot for Gina. Oh, now there was a thought. What will Gina say when she finds out about Ritza and Greg? Actually, Greg and Ritza were trying to avoid looking at or talking to each other. Most of the conversation had been so sterile you could have preformed life-saving heart surgery off it.

“I might stretch my legs,” Danny declared. “I have a DVT phobia,” he added as he got to his feet. It was a load of bull, but it gave him a chance to avoid them for a short while.

Greg watched Danny disappear up the aisle and turned to Ritza as he lifted off the earphones. “I think there’s going to be a by-election in Guam.”

Ritza looked at him a moment. “Right. Is that good or bad?”

Greg shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really familiar with the political system in Guam.”

“I don’t really care about the political system in Guam.”

“No, neither do I,” Greg said blankly.

Ritza smiled and leaned forward, her lips teasingly brushing against Greg’s. He caught her lips before she could pull away, and they found themselves sharing another forbidden passionate kiss.

Danny returned from his jaunt into first class and was approaching his seat when he saw Greg and Ritza locking lips. “Yuck, why?” he said to no one in particular. He pondered going to back to first class but reluctantly fell back into his seat. Ritza and Greg shot apart.

“And that’s why a by-election in Guam is bad,” Greg breathed.

“Yeah, total political unrest,” Ritza panted, wiping her mouth.

“I really don’t want anything to do with, well, what it is you’re choosing to do,” Danny hissed, “But I’d like to point out that Greg, not only are you being unfaithful to your wife, but Gina is going to absolutely kill you. And Ritza, you should be ashamed, you’re a mother, for Christ’s sake.”

“I’d like to point out it’s none of your business, and Gina and I, we feel, I feel…Did I mention it was none of your business?” Greg huffed.

“Butt out Bambi, just butt out,” Ritza sighed as she refocused her attention out of the window. Greg picked up his headphones and put them back on as he glared at Danny. Danny sunk into his seat and started counting down the seconds until they would land.

Paul was still lying flat out on the floor of the truck when it came to a stop. The weight shifted in the front and the door was opened. Two heavies appeared and dragged Paul into the afternoon sunlight. The ropes were removed from around his feet and hands, and the gag taken from his mouth. He took in several gulps of air and spat onto a patch of grass.

“Where are we?” Paul managed to say through his parched throat.

“Back of the Savoy hotel,” scowled a heavy as he grabbed Paul by the arm. He was led inside and up several slights of stairs, which in his present condition was torture. Before he was taken into one of the rooms, he noted a suit bag on the bed and a familiar female next to it: Claudia.

“We meet again,” she smiled as she lit a cigarette.

“Oh, well now I’m excited,” Paul sarced as the two goons closed the door and took to guarding it.

“You don’t have a choice, really,” Claudia mused. “Ensuite is through that door,” she said, pointing with her cigarette. “Go and shower.”

“Why? You’re not planning on greasing me up for some weird sexual fetish, are you?” Paul asked.

“You wish,” Claudia sneered. “And put that on,” she added, motioning to the bag. Paul grabbed it and headed toward the ensuite, pissed he’d had his gun taken back in Amsterdam.

The ensuite bathroom was so white it gleamed, and Paul felt incredibly disgusting compared to it. He pulled his shirt off and chucked it on the floor before he surveyed the damage in the mirror. The cut on his head had bled again, and the blood was now encrusted down one side of his face and neck. He seemed quite black and blue, his lip was slightly puffy, and one of his eyes was tinged with black. He was past the point of caring, and stripped off his pants before sliding under the steaming water from the shower. It was a small luxury in comparison to everything else that had happened.

“That was pretty sly of you, using you media power to get us that flight to Glasgow,” Fenny declared as both she and Gina piled into a taxi. Gina instructed the driver to take her to a mall, and they sat in silence until he pulled the taxi to a stop.

“Why are we here?” Fenny asked as they stepped out.

“I have to go to a club, I can’t go like this,” Gina pointed out.

“Good point,” Fenny agreed as they wandered through the electronic doors. Fenny felt slightly self-conscious, but surprisingly her hair was still quite neat. She allowed herself to smile as she wondered how many of the people walking past them would believe what they’d been doing the last few days in another part of the continent.

“In here,” Gina piped up and made her way into a boutique. “Thank Christ Don isn’t picking the clothes this time.”

“Or Brad and Paul,” Fenny added as she tried to be useful and searched a rack of glittery tops.

“Hey, Brad liked it,” Gina chided.

“Brad would be happy if I was butt naked with ‘property of Brad Sherwood’ written in cream cheese on my stomach.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Gina laughed. “What do you think?” she asked holding up a pair of black vinyl pants.

Fenny cocked her head. “I think you should be a little more daring.”

“How daring?” Gina asked as she put the pants back.

Paul rubbed his cleanly shaven face and pulled on the shiny multicolored shirt. If he was honest, he didn’t mind the black shiny pants, boots and shirt he’d been given. He was just annoyed that he was so beaten.

“Are you ready yet?” Claudia called from the other room.

“Yeah, coming,” Paul grumbled as he gave his hair one last fix before he made his way back to his captors. “That cut is going to scare children,” he announced, pointing to his head.

Claudia already seemed aware of this and stuck a light coloured plaster on his forehead, which seemed to do the job of masking the wound. She then produced two bags, each filled with several tiny bags of pills.

“Are they what I think they are?” Paul gasped.

“You will sell all of them. There’s at least 5000 pounds worth there,” Claudia ordered and shoved the bags into Paul’s hands. He automatically shoved both down his pants. “Rhys and Dave will be accompanying you, and there will be others at the club. So don’t even think of escaping. I’ll be expecting all that cash by the time you’re brought back to me.”

“Oh well, that’s all just straightforward then,” Paul spat. “What if I get found out?”

“I kill you,” Claudia smiled. “So I suggest you don’t.”

“You are a nasty person, you know that?” Paul pouted. “I hope that your lungs fill up with so much tar from those fucking cigarettes that you end up spouting like a Texas oil well.”

Claudia’s face fell into a snarl. “Get him out of my sight,” she ordered. The heavies hurried forward and escorted Paul from the room.

“So, who am I beating tonight?” Brad asked as he found himself at a new pub, this time somewhere in Scotland. He and Beven had been propping up the bar for the last half-hour.

“A fella by the name of McPhee,” Beven replied.

“Nasty?”

“I’ve hear rumours about him using a man as a dartboard.”

“Oh, that’s heartwarming.”

Beven shrugged and looked over as several men entered the bar. “They’re playing as well.”

“I’m thrilled, can’t you tell?”

Beven gave Brad a smile. “Game starts in ten, might want to take a piss while you can.”

“Good idea,” Brad nodded and slid off the barstool. He made his way to the ‘men’s’ and decided to use a cubicle. He’d just lifted the seat when he heard voices.

“So, we play until we get the call?”

“Yeah, then the boys in uniform will storm the places.”

“You tested your wire?”

“Of course I have, you?”

“Yeah, let’s get back out there and mingle.”

“And have a few drinks.”

Brad peered over the top of the cubicle and noticed it was the two men who had entered not long ago. He waited until they left in fits of laughter and then, forgetting the need to evacuate his bladder, hurried back over to Beven. The two men were a little further down the bar.

“We have to go,” he said as quietly as he could.

“Why?” Beven asked.

Brad thought for a moment. “NYPD Blue,” he announced motioning to the men with his head.

“Hey?”

“Third Watch.”

“What?”

Brad snorted like a pig, noticed the men were watching and stopped. He still motioned with his head.

“Pig?” Beven said bewildered. Brad motioned with his head. Beven’s eyes went wide. “We should get going to the theatre,” he announced and motioned to the door.

“Yes, don’t want to miss that play,” Brad agreed as they walked casually to the door. The second they were outside Beven grabbed his phone and had a brief conversation. A few seconds later a car appeared and they both piled in.

“Why’d you do that?” Beven asked as the driver drove off without direction.

“I don’t know,” Brad replied.

“You could have escaped”

“I think I’ve seen too many movies,” Brad shrugged, not wanting to tell Beven that he’d done it to save his friend.

“I look like a Spice Girl,” Gina declared as she appeared from the bathroom in a pair of black, knee high boots, a short dark purple skirt, black low cut top and the tiniest black jacket with fur around the sleeves and neck. She’d done her own hair and make up.

“Paul will love it,” Fenny smiled.

“If I’m not arrested for indecent exposure first.”

“Need I remind you what’s under my jeans and sweater?”

“This is your idea of revenge isn’t it? For every bad outfit you’ve been forced into.”

“Oh yes,” Fenny chuckled. “You’d better get going.”

“Yes thank you, I hadn’t forgotten,” Gina huffed. She grabbed the pathetically small bag she’d bought to match the outfit and tottered out of the room. Fenny doubled over laughing until she wasn’t sure what she was laughing at and lay back on the bed. At that moment she felt she’d be quite happy to model her lingerie for Brad.

Paul was guided into the already throbbing nightclub. The dance floor was overcrowded with hundreds of scantily clad, sweaty people grinding against each other. Usually he’d be thrilled at such a prospect, but when he entered such an establishment he was usually tanked on beer, or he’d have taken one or two of the pills that were currently down his pants. And on this occasion, the music was hurting his already tender head. For one horrific moment Paul actually felt his age. Brushing a sudden midlife crisis out of his mind, Paul then set about trying to work out how you actually distribute drugs.

It didn’t take Gina long to locate the club. She clambered out of the taxi and made sure her skirt was covering her arse before she headed inside. The second she passed the bouncers and walked inside, she already hated it. The music was too loud, the lights too dim, and how on earth was she supposed to find Paul? Gina reluctantly made her way onto the dance floor and was quickly gyrated against by a pimply youth in a sheer t-shirt. The next second she was bustled past several dancers who were shaking their rears so much it was like they were wind up toys. Gina felt foolish and vulnerable and was ready to turn around and walk straight out again until, like a message from the Gods, the crowds seemed to part and she saw the familiar pelvic movements of her husband. She clawed through the crowds until she could get a hand onto the silky material of his shirt. Paul was grinning at a couple of girls, looked over his shoulder and nearly lost his balance.

“Genie,” he said but they were essentially being forced to lip-read because of the music.

“What happened to you?”

“What?”

“This is impossible.”

“What?”

Gina was bumped into another dancer and apologised profusely. Paul grabbed her hand as she went into her third apology and led her from the floor. Neither spoke until he found the male toilets and pulled her inside.

“I’ll get crucified for being in here,” Gina declared, taking in the surprisingly clean facilities as she was bustled into a cubicle and the door locked. “I like your shirt,” she announced, turning to look at him.

“I’m being watched like hawk,” Paul said sternly and crossed his arms. “Is that a skirt you’re almost wearing?”

“It was Fen’s idea,” she muttered, checking it was still covering her butt.

“I quite…fuck Genie, you shouldn’t be here,” he announced, his voice going serious. “If they’ve seen you…”

“It was one of their mob that sent me here,” she retorted. “Brad’s befriended one, Beven.”

“I don’t care what Brad’s done. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Me? Look what they’ve done to you,” she scorned and touched the cut on his lip. He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm.

“I’m okay. Sure it hurts to breathe, and I really shouldn’t have been dancing, that really hasn’t helped, but…” his voice trailed off as he noticed Gina lifting up his shirt and inspecting his bruises. She poked one and he yelped, “Shit.”

“Drop the bravado and tell me the truth,” she ordered, letting go of his shirt and looking him in the eyes.

“Every bone in my body hurts, I’m fucking petrified, and if I don’t get the 5000 pounds for the drugs in my pants I think I might actually get killed,” Paul said blankly and then winced again. Gina moved forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, surprising Paul who was just happy to have a hug.

“I’ll help you escape,” she breathed, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“There’s no way in hell I’ll get out of here, there’s too many henchmen,” he sighed, nuzzling into her hair.

“You can’t go back with them,” she gasped, pulling back.

“Got any better suggestions?”

“You can’t, I won’t let you.”

“Don’t do this, please,” he begged.

“Do what?”

“Care,” he breathed, moving to the other side of the cubicle. “Because if you care then it makes it harder.”

“Fuck you, Paul McDermott,” Gina sniffed, her emotions getting the better of her. “I’ve been going out of my mind trying to get here. I dressed like a hooker, I risked my fucking life, and I’m risking possible arrest by standing in the mens loos, and I’m going to tell you that I love you whether you like it or not.”

Paul stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her softly on the cheek. “If you’re going to kiss me, do it right,” Gina swallowed as she lifted her head to look at him. He almost nervously brushed his lips against hers before she let her fingers move through his hair and kissed him deeply and passionately.