I couldn't take it. Normally I wouldn't mind sitting around, but I was stressed and being kept here against my will and I hated it.
I had begun talking aimlessly to myself with random rants about my life.
"... maybe if Boss had told me how to unlock doors with hair grips like he said he was going to, I wouldn't be in this mess. But no. No, because it's a pointless talent to have when you're the one who uses logic. Obviously he didn't consider this would happen. What does he expect me to do - think my way out of here? Yeah, that's be just like him-"
Then there was a knock at the door. Simply a knock at the door, but my heart fell into my stomach. Only one person knocked like that.
I looked through the keyhole, but I didn't recognise the person. And I couldn't open the door anyway, because it was locked.
He kicked it down and in one swift movement he was at the other side of the room with a gun pointed at me. Automatically, I aimed my own pistol straight for his head.
"Briony," he nodded.
"Joe," I replied without hesitation.
He gritted his teeth. "Damn this! I was counting on your obliviousness."
I shrugged, noting that my phone was on the windowsill behind Joe, and that his coat pocket revealed the outline of another gun. Max kept his spare ammunition in the drawer beneath the TV, along with three other guns at varying degrees of dangerousness. How did I know that?
In the kitchen was a whole drawer full of sharp knifes, and the room itself proved to contain a whole collection of potentially dangers objects.
Now in what Harrie called 'complete spy breakdown mode', I started to notice the flaws in Max's house. The light above my head hung slightly lower than it should, so that it was being held to the ceiling by only it's wires. It was also swinging slightly from the force Joe had put into breaking the front door. There was a double plug socket close to the settee. One of them had nothing plugged in, and the into the other was plugged a phone charger with no phone on the other end. Both sockets were switched on. Max was currently using his netbook as a mug coaster, and there was a glass of water dangerously close to the plug socket. The windows were not double glazed.
I noticed all this in a swift glance around the room.
"I have a reliable source of information."
"I doubt that source will be reliable for anything much now," this was a threat. He knew what Harrie had been telling me, and was implying that he had done something serious to her. In my books, this was not on.
"Oh," I said blankly as I scanned his body without moving anything except my eyes. "What a shame." A dark stain on his jeans told me that he was injured. But how? No, how didn't matter for now. What did matter was that, with the amount of blood still soaking into the material, Joe would not be able to walk properly. Also, his shirt was ripped, and revealed light bruising on his ribcage. There were four red streaks on his right arm, as though someone had scratched him rather harshly.
"You know, I would've thought you'd have worked this out earlier. I'm a little disappointed that you didn't," he tutted patronisingly. "And to be fooled so easily? I think your intelligence level has dropped. Leading clueless men into my grasp like that..."
Suddenly a scene was in my head. A pub... no, a street. A street. Two men walk down the street, one followed silently by the other. The man in front stops suddenly, turns around, hits the man behind. Man one is answered with a forceful fist in the stomach. Man two pushes man one to the ground, striking his torso repeatedly. He is thrown back, his head hitting the ground. He is hit in the face several times, managed to grab hold of a broken bottle nearby, jabs it into the leg of his attacker. Man one lifts man two from the ground and throws him at the wall. There is silence. Man one leaves the street, limping. Man two is left unconscious.
Joe was in Max's house.
Where was Max?
I took a step towards my ex and he placed his fingers on the trigger of his gun. Then I realised. His gun was loaded. Mine, of course, only had one bullet left.
Joe was right here.
Where was Max?
I pretended that I was completely willing to shoot Joe, and felt my fingers resting on the trigger. He narrowed his eyes and I took another step towards him. His fingers tightened on his gun.
I closed my eyes.
Joe was about to kill me.
Where was Max?