1-9:The Middle Child of the Secret of the Lost Gavel

‘My bloody studio is on fire because of you and that fuckin’ Freak!’

The helicopter hovered, the heavy weaponry obvious and threatening.

‘And no-one gets out of the game that easily,’ continued Freddy in a low hiss. ‘Especially not with the votes you got.’

Raznou grasped the gearstick.

‘When I say jump…’ he murmured.

‘And now you’re gonna pay, you hippy git!’

The gearstick was jammed into reverse and the car moved backwards suddenly, screeching to a halt.

Raznou wrenched the wheel around and jammed the gearstick forwards and the car leapt towards a side-street.

‘JUMP!’

Donnie shoved the door open and leapt from the fast-moving car, rolling and colliding with a wall as the car rushed away.

The helicopter zoomed up and fired down at the car.

The explosion shattered every window for fifty meters; tiny pieces of glass rained down on Donnie who rolled in a fetal position trying to protect himself.

Soon the sound stopped and there was merely the crackle of petrochemicals on fire.

Donnie stood and stared down the street to where the wreckage of the car lay.

Nearby, the passenger door slammed down onto the road, fire stripping the paint.

Silence fell over the area, and Donnie began to shake uncontrollably just as a hood was dropped over his head and he was yanked backwards into a doorway.

The world went black.

* * *

‘Hello,’ asked Donnie, then blinked madly as the hood was yanked from his head.

‘Are you trying to get killed,’ asked Elvis. ‘Intentionally I mean.’

‘Oh, hallo,’ said Donnie with a grin. ‘Long time no see.’

‘You’ve been busy,’ said Prime.

‘Well, you know how it is–’

‘Busy getting on the wrong side of McWarickson,’ muttered Elvis, turning away and then back. He extended his hand.

Donnie stared at it; was he supposed to shake, slap it as a low-five or–

‘Phone,’ said Elvis, explaining.

Donnie passed the mobile phone to Elvis, who checked the messages.