Barrack Street
Another one from Hornsby Shire Libraries!
'You must leave immediately. Do not attract unnecessary attention when you are on the Clipper. The ticket is in the envelope, mighty expensive, for that matter. Luxury comes for free at that price, doesn't it? Anyways, Mr Wilke will be at charge from when you land at New York. Hand him over this vial of virus and Cassidy will be safe with us here at London. It all depends on your allegiance. Dare not-toeing the line, and you'll never see your daughter again,' the man in black coat threatened, and melted in the crowd; the ghost of his cruel beady eyes, thin chin, and crooked nose lingered in Jennifer's mind like a bad perfume. She stood amidst the regular rigmarole of Barrack Street, tears welling up perfunctorily, her torso trembling uncontrollably; lucky she was in a thick red tweed coat to conceal the convulsions of a helpless mother crying hysterically for her abducted child under the hoodie. She bit her quivering lips, steeled her wavering will, and headed for the port.
Aboard the Pan Am Clipper Jennifer ensconced herself in the comfortable seat that turned to bunk for sleeping. The fuselage of the Boeing 314 flying boat* was commodious, and inspite of her distress, Jennifer couldn't help but appreciate the elaborate arrangements. Sipping warm tea, helped her smooth her ruffled feathers a bit and she could think with clarity. First she introspected the saga that unfolded in the last few hours, upending her life. Hold your horses, she soothed herself, you have 19 hours to chalk a way out of this hideous crime, save the cynosure of your life, and escape as soon as the Clipper kissed the waters of America's East Coast. Yet the thought of baby Cassidy flustered her. Restive, Jennifer walked to the loo and latched the door. She wondered what the entrails of the flight held...
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After leaving Jennifer, the man in black coat reached his lair adjacent to Barrack Street in London and contacted Mr Wilke over SCR 536 ☎️, 'Hello, I put the virus in her medicine vial. She should come out clean during security checks. They don't veto any request regarding medicines. Your port of entry wouldn't stop her. She knows she'll be under surveillance on board the Clipper, no way of escape from there. Once the vial is with you, embark upon the macabre of mass destruction of American army with this new invisible, invincible weapon! I assure, it's potency is indubitable. Keep your eyes peeled for a wiry woman in red tweed jacket, 8 am, at the landing dock. Roger that?'
'Roger that,' Mr Wilke echoed back from across the Atlantic.
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It was 7.45 am at Avalon, New York, cold, dark, drizzling. The landing dock bustled as the passengers filed out of the Clipper, gingerly treading on the gangplank, after a strenuous transatlantic voyage. Mr Wilke squinted hard on the causeway that led the passengers to the makeshift port. They thronged though the gate to the stalls serving warm coffee and breakfast; Mr Wilke grew restless by the moment. It wasn't long before the crowd was thinner, but nobody alighted in red jacket. Where could she be? Did she take her jacket off? But she couldn't go anywhere without a taxi! She had to be here, stranded, incarcerated in their well-laid plan. When the last passenger, an elderly woman with an oversized *portmanteau, left Mr Wilke pummelled the heel of his left hand with his right fist - the biological weapon and their meticulous plan would never find fruition! How could she have hoodwinked them? Where could she vanish between London and New York with only the ocean in between? Restraining an angry outburst, he sat at the wheels of his sedan and headed for the abditory.
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'Darling, what did you stuff? The case is filthy heavy.' Mr Boreham heaved the portmanteau into the boot of his Hudson sedan.
'Oh don't bother; you know him, my sweet brother. He packed all he could grab in those last schmaltzy moments, says who could say when we'd meet again! Ageing is taking its own toll. He sounded hopeful though for times after the war, journeying across the pond would be easier he mentioned. Not sure how though. Do you need a hand?'
'No, I'm fine. Boy, didn't I miss you?'
'You did?' They remained enfolded momentarily in each other's arms, kissed, and drove away.
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Back in the abditory, Mr Wilke called up the man in black coat and informed that the unthinkable had happened! Jennifer had vanished in thin air, or rather in the blue Atlantic. 'She has hoodwinked us; kill the child,' he uttered, his teeth set on edge.
'Are you insane? Kill the child and get captured and tortured while you enjoy the bliss across the Atlantic. I'll just chuck that useless bundle of flesh at the steps of some orphanage and leave for Rome. You too get under cover for sometime.'
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'Jenny, I'm Jennifer, from London, I mean no harm,' she whimpered and implored. 'Hand me over to the cop if you would, but please let me explain,' a dishevelled jittery Jenny recounted all that had happened to the elderly Borehams, equally shaken when she emerged from their portmanteau. Unwittingly, they were suddenly pawns of the Allied and Axis forces - transpired, an Italian, the man in black coat, kidnapped Jennifer and her infant, of British nationality, to use them against the Americans in an attack with biological weapons.
Things fell in place as the elderly Borehams conceded to get her help. The rest was history that didn't make to the pages of any book or wiki. But the vial of virus was secured, and disposed with utmost care. Bruce Wilson, a coroner having a xyresic sense of investigation and analysis, tracked down the traitors, thwarted several other similarly planned attacks, and contacted his British counterpart to trace Cassidy. Another 19-hour transatlantic voyage later Jennifer held a content Cassidy lovingly in her arms at Barrack Street, basking in her newfound freedom.
Dona, Sydney, Sep'21
*
Clippers: flying boats (or floatboats for different purposes) were predecessor of 21st century Boeing 747 that are equipped with nitrogen filled landing gears and the capability to carry a hundred thousand kilograms
Portmanteau: used here as a huge modern-day suitcase
Another, more relevant meaning is explained here.
Don't miss the previous one: Ferry Lane
Very well conceived and vividly portrayed 👍🏻👏
ReplyDeleteThanks for inspiring!
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