Chapter 3 - The Getaway - Phantom

Once in trapdoor was securely fastened, Phantom dodged and weaved himself through the maze of barrels and boxes that littered the poorly lit basement, with some considerable skill given he was running at some considerable pace. He burst through the back door of the cellar and onto a filth ridden alley way, most of the street lights had either been smashed by yobs or had blown and no-one bothered to replace, perfect for Phantom. He darted down the alley, removing the face prosthetics as he did, through lit windows, a strobe effect eliminated his pale skin and distorted features that was his true face. A fresh bandage appeared swiftly from a pocket and was hastily rapped around his face and head, given it was night time he didn’t bother with the spectacles (his eyes worked better at night anyway). He crisscrossed down the labyrinth of alleyways, the smells of rotting garbage and the stench of the sewer met his nostril’s, that was when a figure stepped out from a doorway just ahead of him, it was the stranger, thoughts rushed through Phantoms head, the most prominent was how had he pre-empted his escape route given it would appear to be random. Plan B, Phantom spun on his heels, sweeping his back leg around to collide with some nearby trash can, it hurtled towards the stranger with an almighty crash, many of the darken windows above suddenly erupted with light and a hail of angry German cascaded into the echoing alley. But Phantom didn’t stick around to see if his temporary barricade had hindered his pursuer, he had already scaled a nearby fire escape and was lifting himself onto the rickety rooftops, tile slipped from under his feet as he ran fighting to maintain his balance. He leaped across the tops of streets, from one building to another, snagging on television aerials and vaulting chimney stacks. He glanced cautiously at a sound to his left and there he was again. This madman was chasing him across the roof; Phantom had to acknowledge the dedication this man had. The stranger was now running parallel with Phantom one street over waiting for the building to veer closer to one another, to make a safe(ish) jump. But before he could, Phantom suddenly changed coarse as if to make the suicidal vault to engage this assailant. But that wasn’t his intention. Phantom made the smallest of hurdles over the guttering of his building and with a cocky wink at the stranger, spun 180 degrees to slide effortlessly down a drainpipe. The stranger stopped and watched his decent through narrowed eyes. Phantom was now on street level and used the time he had gained to his advantage. He continued to run for quite a while, doubling back on himself every once in while and using the shadows to make sure he had finally lost his tail. Eventually, as the sun crept lazily over the horizon, Phantom was happy to return to his safe house. The safe house was just off of the beaten track, not to isolated as to set himself up for an ambush but also not busy enough to have salesmen trying to flog there wares. He removed two keys from his trouser pocket and slid them into the locks, counting to three in his head he turned them both simultaneously, there was a soft click and the door opened a fraction, his hand flashed through the crack and grabbed a thin piece of thread, no thicker then a human hair, the thread was attached to a fragmentation grenade. He quickly disarmed the grenade and placed is delicately on a wooded table just inside the door. Strolling wearily into his living room, the place in complete darkness but he knew the layout well enough not to knock into the furniture, he knelt down to ignite the small gas fire. The warm glow flew through the room. “What took you so long?” came a voice from the high backed leather armchair.