29 August 2012
I didn't dare move or even breathe as I heard the door open. It squeaked painfully as always, giving me and Tony a brief second to shift our standing positions again.
A careful, heavy footstep. The creaky floorboard by the window. Sweat darts into my eye but I must not wipe it unless something creaks.
He will kill us if he finds us. I blink away the salt and the stinging and look to Tony. His eyes are closed and he is struggling to keep his breathing slow and quiet. He looks at me and the pools of dark panic where his eyes should be nearly cause me to lose my nerve.
Outside there is the sound of bedsprings as he leans to check under it. Any minute now, he will turn to look at the mirror. And this is the point where our lives will be lost or saved.
I tense, nausea wringing my guts, cramps in my belly and legs cold.. weak.
As he turns, gun still gripped in gloved hand, he will face an enormous mirror in three sections, which takes up the majority of Toby's bedroom wall. He will see his his dark clothes and masked face. He will see himself as we saw him as he slipped over the back fence. He will hopefully not see that the centre mirror is actually the door to Tony's wardrobe.
Downstairs, Mr. Artej's body is probably cooling.
We do not make a sound. But again, we nearly lose our heads when the door squeaks, floor creaks and another person enters.
"Could they have gone through a window?" One of them asks.
"They're here. I know it."
These two could be the ones who murdered Madge and his brother last week. Downing Street likes to pretend that it admits to its mistakes, but the real ones are silenced. You could ask Madge, but... You know.
We accidentally have information that could end the careers and ruin the position of key politicians, as well as Banking Officials.
I sense that the first masked man is now looking at the mirror. Boring his gaze right through the glass and wood and into my mind, which knows far, far too much.
There's a creak and a shuffle of clothing...as it turns out, they were both moving to leave, but my mind told me differently. My mind told me we had been found. I tensed, waiting for the mirror to be opened or smashed.
As I did so, we were betrayed. As I tensed, waiting for the attack, I farted.
It started as a tight squeak, then mellowed to a brief, low-pitched 'parp.' I would die because of my own bowels.
It already smelled fusty in there as it was where Tony threw his used boxers and vests. Now it stank of fear... Fear and betrayal.
Tony's face was wide with terror. As the mirror was wrenched open, Tony ran.
In the flurry of action and noise, I saw the first masked killer raise his gun... And then fall as he was shot himself, from behind.
His mask was wrenched off as he fell to his knees. Blood slid from his lip. His eyes, staccato with agony, raised to his killer. Toby and I watched, frozen.
"Hardy?" our betrayed nemesis gurgled as he slumped mto the floor.
"Been under cover." Hardy said. "MI5. Trying to find you lot and stop these from killing you before we can get you into protection. Hope you're ready to disappear boys. If you want to live."
As if expressing what Tony and I both felt, I farted once more.
Betrayed • Opuss № I