Chapter 7 - The Collection - Phantom

The two men sat back in the cab of there truck, waiting in the dark and silence of the mist strewn field, the only movement was the glowing embers of Phantom's cigarette. Seconds crept by, followed by minutes then a sign of life, A faint hum being carried on the breeze, an engine of some kind but to what Phantom couldn't work out and through the mist it was impossible to see anything clearly. Whatever it was was coming towards them at a great speed, as it got closer Phantom could make out two different engines and by the rhythmic pace of the noise they had to of been helicopters. Upon coming to this identification he instinctively knew the plan for delivery. "Rig the strops around the truck and dispose of anything we don't need," the order was barked at Harry, who jumped into action without hessiation, just like the good old days Phantom thought to himself. Harry was soon ransacking the crates, piling most of the cheap, replaceable items ten metres from there position and finding a Jerry can of spare fuel, set fire to them. The smoke towered upwards being carried on the wind. The mist was beginning to thin in places and Phantom could definitely make out the outlines of the two Chinook helicopters, tethers and wires already hanging below, waiting for its cargo. The down current the helicopters produces was immense, their twin rotor blades slicing effortlessly through the air as two henchman slid down gi-ropes to where Phantom was waiting. The henchman pointed stupidly to a bank of trees, speech was pointless with this kind of noise but Phantom knew the drill, a car (will a full petrol tank) and his money would be waiting on the other side of the bank. While this odd game of charades was taking place the other henchman, with the help of Harry, where attaching the truck to the under belly of one of the helicopters. Once everything was secure, Harry turned to Phantom and gave a breif wave followed by a cheeky wink before being winched into the main body of the second helicopter. Just as the last henchman was attaching himself to the wire, The entire feild was suddenly flood lit. All around the exits of the feild were dotted police cars there headlight of full beam. Turning to look at the gate, Phantom could see ACME agents leaping over the fences and darting towards him, there voices drowned out by the rotor blades. Phantom spun around to the henchman still on the ground and pointed to the helicopter. The henchman understood and so did the pilot who was watching from the cockpit, fly off and deliver the merchandise. Phantom hoped they'd have enough brains in those two 'birds' to remember to tell the boss, else he could be seeing a nice long spell in prison. As the Chinooks screeched off into the distance, swallowed up by the night. Phantom turned just in ime to see an elbow, gliding straight for his face, his hands only got to chest height when he hit the floor. The agents had reached him and one now had his knee in the centre of Phantoms spine, he could feel himself sink into the mud a few centimetres. Though in a bit of pain and covered i mud Phantom allowed himself a slight smile as he felt the cold steel of the handcuffs across his wrists. Phantom felt hot breath pass by his left ear, "thought you could get away with it did you?" the speaker was Jenus Zeal or Rook to his friends, if he had any, and the loathing dripped from every word, his tone a horse whisper of hatred. "Well detective as you only have me and no naval gun, I'll have to say I have no idea what you are talking about," Phantom could hardly keep the cockiness from his voice and recieved another blow to the back of the head as his reward. He then felt the weight lessen from his back and was grabbed under the arms to be lifted bodily from the mud of the sodden feild, he noticed a perfect outline of his form left behind. The next thing he saw was the black, rubberised floor of the police van as he was literally thrown into the back. He didn't bother to move for a while, his mind deep in thought of the last few hours, going over every detail, what had given him away, he was so careful. He then realised that blood was now rushing to his head so he shuffled himself around, leaning his back against the clear perspex divider the separated him from the driver, he tilted his head back and filled the small echoey box with his bark of a laugh. It was simple, he'd have a nice rest, then once he'd been cleared he could start planning the next heist.