Читать книгу Any Means Necessary - Shane Britten - Страница 12

It was dark when I came to. The world was unstable but mostly as a result of my aching head. I tried moving and immediately regretted it, pain shooting not just through my head but my whole body. So, they’d worked me over a little while I was out. Brave but probably understandable given the damage I managed to inflict on them prior to being overpowered. As always, I’d reflect on that engagement later to think about what I could have done differently to have a more satisfactory outcome, the primitive fighter in my brain telling me I should have attacked the Hawk before the man alongside me.

Concentrating on controlling my breathing, I slowly pushed myself up. I was on a thin foam mattress in what seemed to be a makeshift prison. The floor was dirt, with two of the walls made from brick and the other two from wooden slats that I was fairly confident I could break through if it came to it. I looked down at myself to find my clothes gone and replaced by a simple grey shirt and shorts, both substantially too big. My shoes were missing as well. I scowled. Hit me while unconscious and I’d be far from your friend, but take my Ecco boots and it was an act of war.

I pulled the shirt off to inspect the extent of my injuries. Lifting my arms up hurt, indicating at least some broken or cracked ribs. As I got the shirt over my head, I was looking at an impressive collection of welts and angry red marks that were pre-bruise. Still, my legs felt ok and while breathing in deeply hurt, I seemed to have come off reasonably well. If my body needed a break before this, it certainly would need one afterwards.

A slight scuff at the door made me realise someone had been there all along. I’d taken the slight shadow to be the result of the struggling exposed bulb outside the prison, but it was a person. I could only see a sliver of her from the gaps in the slats, but the voluminous brown hair, edge of a narrow chin, high, elfin cheekbones and the one pale blue eye I could see made me fairly sure it was the First Daughter, Jessica.

‘Have you come to bust me out?’ I murmured jokingly, pulling the shirt back over my head with a groan.

‘I came to see the fool who attacked WOLF security,’ she replied with an acerbic tone.

I laughed, something that my ribs hated me for. ‘Fool for sure. I’m pretty sure my attack came about a second before theirs was about to be launched. Pre-emptive strike.’ I pushed myself up, steadying against the bricks as my head swam and couldn’t work out which plane the world was on. ‘What now?’ I asked. She shrugged and turned to go.

‘Wait,’ I called out, moving on tentative steps towards the padlocked door that separated us. ‘I’m Valen,’ I offered.

‘I know,’ she replied, continuing to move away until she faded from sight.

Well, I was worse for wear and imprisoned, but I was reasonably confident I’d found 50 per cent of my mission. I pushed against the slats for a moment, debating testing out a kick or two against the wood and confident I could get through it, despite bare feet. On the other hand, a poor kick was entirely possible, given my body condition, and escaping with a broken or damaged foot would be a challenge too far.

In the end, I resigned myself to temporary captivity and retreated to the mattress, lowering myself with a few murmured curses. I glanced down at myself and heard the old man’s voice in my head. Appearances…

Shut up, Philip.