Warning! This story contains material of an adult nature and is intended for mature readers and for personal use only. No copyright infringement is intended.
*
Mike awoke, with a groan, holding onto his throbbing forehead. As he rolled over and tried to sit up, a jagged pain shot through his head. "Unngh! What hit me?" he groaned, trying to focus on his surroundings. The room seemed totally unfamiliar. "Where the hell am I?" he wondered, blinking to help clear his vision.
Memories came flooding back. This was Alicia's apartment. "Alicia, where are you?" he asked himself, anxiously, twisting his head around, searching. Another jagged pain shot through his befuddled brain, and he groaned with agony.
"Alicia?" he called out, in a panicky voice. He staggered to his feet, and lurched into the bedroom. There was no sign of the girl, but the wardrobe doors were wide open, and most of her clothes seemed to be missing!
"Alicia?" he called out again, staggering out and running into the adjoining kitchen. This room was equally deserted. She was obviously someplace else, but where? He ran over to the outer door, opened it and stared out. The corridor was deserted!
As he turned to re-enter the room, his eyes alighted on a sheet of blue writing paper, on the coffee table. He hurried over and picked it up. There was a short message scrawled on it, in block capitals:
DARLING MIKE,
PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T GO TO THE POLICE, OR TRY TO FIND ME, OR I SHALL BE KILLED! IT'S BEEN NICE KNOWING YOU!
ALICIA
Tears of frustration, filled Mike's eyes. "The slimy bastards have kidnapped Alicia!" he snarled. "She'll be in mortal danger, for every second that she remains in their filthy hands! I have to find her and rescue her, but how? I dare not go to the cops. Damn, damn, damn!"
He searched the apartment, frantically looking for some sort of clue, but there was none. It was obvious from the way the place had been ransacked, that they'd searched the place thoroughly, looking for something? It was also clear, from the minimal amount of clothing and underwear remaining in her bedroom, that Alicia wasn't expecting to return!
His heart felt as if it was being squeezed in a vise, as he fought back the tears of frustration. "I've got to find her!" he kept repeating to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. "If I ever get my hands on those bastards...."
Suddenly, he spotted something on the floor, over by the door, partially obscured by a chair. He bent down and picked it up. It was a half-used book of matches, with an advertisement on the back, for the 'Pink Flamingo Club', together with a Soho address.
"This might be a clue?" he figured, his eyes lighting up, momentarily. Then his shoulders slumped. "Or, it might just be one of the clip joints that Alicia works? Still, it's the only lead I've got!" He headed for the door.
-oOo-
Alicia was roughly bundled into the back of a large, black Mercedes saloon, by Bull, who then climbed in after her, while the other hood, who's name was Nick, dumped her bulging suitcase in the trunk, before climbing into the driver's seat.
Meanwhile, Arnie opened the offside rear door, and slid in alongside her. "Don't try anything stupid, my dear," he warned, "or we might have to come back and deal, permanently, with the boyfriend!"
Alicia shuddered. The man's eyes were like twin pools of ice. "No, I-I won't," she whispered, in a subdued voice. "This man is a psychopath," she realized, with a thrill of fear.