Mercifully, there were no further incidents on the way to the airport, although we did have a brief scare when we spotted a black car following us for a couple blocks. Our car stopped, while one of the escort cars pulled the black car over. A brief chat with the driver revealed that he was in fact trying to get to the other side of Paris, and had gotten lost. The police got him safely on his way, but we prudently waited for around 15 or so minutes to make sure he really had gotten lost. Once the police were satisfied that he wouldn't try following us again, we got back on our way.
Still, I wasn't entirely relaxed, not even after I'd safely boarded the plane. I knew Finn would have something up his sleeve, and I just prayed the police waiting at the other end would be able to deal with whatever came up.
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My worries were well founded. The moment my plane touched down at Heathrow, we were told we wouldn't be going anywhere due to an "ongoing incident". I didn't need to put two and two together to know that Finn had somehow managed to get the airport surrounded, and my heart sank right to the bottom of my chest as I realised that the nightmare still wasn't over.
After an hour of waiting, two black cars, escorted by airport security, came onto the tarmac, and for a moment, I felt my heart almost stop as old fears resurfaced. Thankfully, the two men who came on board were in fact two of the officers sent to escort me safely back to Reading. I did contact the French police to confirm, and once everything had been triple-quarduple checked, I went willingly with them.
As it turned out, the two black cars were decoys, as were the security cars. I soon found myself hiding in the back of a food truck - with the refridgeration turned off, thankfully - and we made our way to the front of the airport, where an ambulance was waiting. But I was instead taken inside, while someone who looked uncannily like me was put in the ambulance. I didn't dare look over my shoulder, but one of the officers with me told me how half a dozen cars had suddenly materialised from nowhere to follow it, and I heaved a sigh of relief. "We're not taking any chances," he said. "I've already radioed my colleagues, and they're going to intercept those cars once they're on the motorway."
The scheme to get me safely away soon took another interesting twist when I saw we were in fact heading for the tube - the Piccadilly line, in fact. "It's not the most glamorous way," the officer told me, "but it's one way Finn's operatives weren't expecting us to take. At least we hope so. We do have a few other decoys ready just in case. One will be using the Heathrow Express, while the other will be taking a TfL rail service, just to be sure we can cover our bases."
I shook my head at the thorough planning. "You really are taking no chances," I said.
"Finn wants you back," the officer told me grimly. "Since it seems unlikely Samuel will ever wake up, Finn probably feels its his duty to keep you prisoner for the rest of your life. And you know as well as I do he only gave himself up because he was caught, not because he was geuninely remorseful for what he'd put you through. And men like him are dangerous, especially when all their plans are falling apart. To quote a wise young woman; we are taking no chances with your safety. Whatever it takes to get you back to Reading, and then Penzance, we will do."
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To prove his point, we doubled back at Osterley, before taking another train from Heathrow, this time one of the same TfL rail services my decoy had taken earlier. We made it to Reading with no issues, and the officers at Reading had some good news when we arrived. "All of the remaining operatives have been apprehended," he reported. "They've surrendered the names of several others, who are being tracked down as we speak. Once we've rounded all of them up, we'll get on our way."
It took two hours before the remainder of Finn's goons had been snapped up, and once it had been confirmed that was the last of them, we finally set out for the packhouse. We did take it cautiously, just to be on the safe side, but as the house came into view, I knew deep down that this time, I really was free. Finn and Ethan were facing justice, and Samuel was likely to meet his maker before too long. Even so, as I stepped out of the car, I knew I was still in danger.
That danger being, of course, smothered to death once the first Windsong pack member laid eyes on me. But after all the hell I'd been through in the last almost ten years, being smothered to death was a much more pleasurable prospect. And one I'd be happy to have inflicted on me.136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6iBSQvtsAh
