New Jack City

[mistahc]

This is a sequel to "An Englishman in New York" which can be found here: http://community.sigames.com/showthread.php/349733-An-Englishman-in-New-York-a-short-story

Some liberties have been taken. I want it as another short(ish) story, so it's based on a Saviour Cometh FM13 game. The original was not using real players and ran in the 2011 American Season, and to do the challenge I need to use original players with a game year that doesn't directly follow on from the previous one as I would have liked. So I've changed the dates to a year earlier, and will alter names of players that will be directly involved with the story to avoid using real people to avoid offence. Please forgive any slips in these manual changes.

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Chapter 1

Somewhere in the room she could hear a scratching sound, and tried to guess the distance of how close the rat was from her. She moved her head in an effort to try and move the hood shrouding her in darkness, desperate to be able to see her surroundings again.

Time was distorted in the darkness and she had lost track of how long she had been tied up in the chair, gagged and hooded to deprive her of her senses and awareness. She shivered; the air seemed colder as if an evil presence was close. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention as her mind’s eye imagined the beast's breath on her skin, and she trembled again.

She told herself it was just her imagination, but it didn’t take away the fear. The things they had done to her warranted being scared of the imminent repeat. She clenched her legs together through instinct, the bruises sore from being prised apart by eager fingers. She was losing the ability to be strong and fight the unwanted visitors, but it was too hard to struggle against these men.

She heard another noise and froze, her nipples becoming erect through terror and she was aware of her nakedness. She clenched her legs so tightly it hurt, but her arms were tied to the chair exposing her breasts to any onlookers. She pulled at the ropes but they stayed tight, keeping her hostage.

A tear ran down her face and she repeated that there was no-one there; that it was just her mind playing cruel tricks like it had done many times before. Her arm hair began to tingle and her body began to quiver as she felt a small release of urine soak into the chair material. She felt convinced someone was there.

“Urgghhhh, you’ve gone and pissed yourself you dirty bitch.”

Bright light engulfed her as the hood was removed and after a few seconds her eyes focused on the ugly face of Danny Williams in front of hers and her screams were muffled by the gag.

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Helena sat bolt upright and sweating as her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness, and her teeth chattered as her body shook. She felt the wet patch beneath her, and cursed herself as she reached for a towel to soak it up.

"Alright babe? Another bad dream?"

She had grown very fond of Sam Heywood, but his Scouse account was very similar to his old boyhood friend who had kidnapped her, so at times she could not bear to hear it. The man moved his muscular body close to her and hugged her, his manhood began to swell and press up against her and she jumped up in fright.

"Can you go next door, I need to change the sheets."

Sam shrugged and went into the living room, his erection pointing the way. He sighed and laid on the sofa and switched the TV on, flicking between the channels to find something to arouse him further. He stuck to the leather sofa in the Hawaii heat, and he noisily repositioned himself to get comfy. He chuckled at the irony as an advert for incontinent pads came on, and wondered if he was brave enough to suggest she slept in adult nappies. He settled on an old Baywatch episode and began his arm movements.

Helena changed the sheets and left the side lamp on as she tried to regulate her breathing, ignoring the sounds of the self-abuse coming from the other room. She knew he would soon fall asleep straight afterwards, so curled herself into a ball and closed her eyes and breathed deeply counting out the seconds to help calm her. The wounds were still fresh, and she hoped that the memories would fade fast so she could sleep in the dark again. She promised herself she would see a Doctor for some tablets that would give her dreamless slumber she craved so much.

The next morning she awoke and walked into the bathroom to look at her gaunt face in the mirror; the sleep deprivation was clearly taking it's toll. She called for Sam but there was no answer so she went onto the balcony, watching with pride as the unemployed footballer ran on the beach. He saw her and waved, breaking into a sprint to show off. She smiled as he stopped soon afterwards, bent double as he struggled for breath in the heat. She heard a noise and reached for the vibrating phone, and saw that it was his agent so called him over.

Matt Bell was on speaker phone as he excitedly gave his client an update on his outstanding job offers. Playing contracts were offered and refused.

"I think I've had enough of playing mate. I'm 37 and can't even handle running up the beach at the moment. Nah, I think I need a new challenge; something in management maybe?"

Matt was silent. He knew that his percentage would be much higher on a playing contract, so wanted him to keep going. Despite Sam's winning career at Liverpool he had no management draw, so would not command as big a weekly wage or signing on fee.

"Okay, well I'll see what I can do."

"Good, did you get that paternity test ordered like I asked?"

"Yes, but it'll take a few weeks to get the results. How long will you be in Hawaii for?"

"Until I get bored. Find me a job."

"I'll look, but the season has started so you'll probably have to find a club struggling. I think York City are close to firing their manager as they are rock bottom of Division Two. They have a new chairman, Jack Collins, bit eccentric but I could give him a call and set up an interview if you want? It's only a couple of hours from Liverpool."

Sam looked at Helena for a reaction. There was something poetic about York City, seeing as they had met when he was playing for the New York Redbulls. She didn't seem impressed.

"Let me know how it goes, and I'll come back for when they want to meet."

He ended the call and looked at her again, sensing her apprehension. He stroked her face and looked deep into her eyes and extinguished her fears.

"I won't go anywhere without you. Look Danny is gone; either in prison or in a ditch somewhere. He can't hurt you any more. You'll be safe with me in England. I promise."

They hugged tightly, and she wanted to believe him. Unfortunately she could not shake the feeling that her ordeal was not over and that she would never be safe.

[mistahc]

Chapter 2

Sam looked at his watch, the time-piece felt alien on his arm after 6 weeks without it in the Hawaii sunshine. It was 10:18am, and he had been sitting in a waiting room for nearly half hour.

"Another coffee Mr Heywood? I'm sure Mr Collins won't be much longer."

Sam shook his head. He already felt super-charged by the caffeine and didn't want to quickly ramble through the interview. He looked around the office-space of Jack Collins' company head office; it was deserted as it was the days just before Christmas. He found it surprising as the company was Go-Jet, a low-cost airline company and he assumed this would be a busy period for them. He thought about previous Christmases in happier times with his wife and kids, and he thumbed the sealed letter inside his suit pocket nervously. The DNA results were in, and he just needed to open the letter to find out the answer that had been nagging him. He wasn't too sure if he wanted to know or not. He spent the day with them yesterday when he visited his parents, and found it hard to deal with all the questions.

The thoughts made him perspire so he loosened the tie slightly to be able to breath, longing to be in nothing but board shorts again. He found an overwhelming urge to get out and leave and stood up, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing even going for the job in the first place. From the corridor he heard laughing and saw the gangly frame of Carlton Palmer walking down wearing an ill-fitting suit that looked like it was borrowed from someone else. Beside him was the interviewer who laughed and slapped him on the back and waved him off with big smiles, not what he wanted to see. Sam nodded to the ex-England player, but the ex-Mansfield boss ignored him, hopefully as he didn't recognise him with the tan.

"Sam lad, sorry to keep you waiting, please come this way."

Sam followed the man into his office and sat opposite, his throat dry from nerves at his first ever job interview. He looked around for water and wished he had some, so he swallowed hard and tried to wet his palate with his saliva. The Chairman was an acute businessman so sensed this and clicked the intercom button down.

"Susan, please can you fetch us some water love? Ta".

They looked at each other awkwardly while they waited. Sam had done his research; Jack Collins was an abrupt Yorkshire man of Irish heritage, born in Wakefield, left school at 15 and worked in the Caphouse Colliery for a decade until it closed in 1985 when it was exhausted of resources. Collins found work hard to come by in the declining industry and started a company that sold spare parts from scrapped buses abroad to developing countries. This knowledge of engines helped him start a company building Aircraft engines, and eventually his own plane, the first of his fleet that now flew world-wide. His company pioneered the £1 flight deal; £1 to get on the air plane, £50 to get off it. They even provided stairs for an extra £10.

The silence was broken as the secretary came in with a whiff of strong perfume and balancing the drinks on a beer tray. Jack was clearly looking down her top at her ample cleavage as she bent over to place the beverages.

"Um Susan, while there could you get me t'Zante deal file from that cabinet? That's right, under Z so bottom drawer."

Sam afforded himself a look too as she bent over exposing her white underwear for a good few minutes, her black skirt hitching up higher as she delved deeper in desperation to please. He looked back at the Chairman who was visibly salivating and looked ready to mount her.

"It's not here Mr Collins?"

"Daft us, it's on our desk. Thanks anyroad, see you later Pet."

As she shut the door he adjusted his trousers and grinned.

"Fantastic arse eh? Only 19, thick as pig-**** and twice as runny but when she bends over like that it's worth everee penny. I'm worried she might get back problems and someone will tell ‘er to bend at the knees and that would be a sad day for me."

Sam smiled back without saying a word and wondered how many times the man had sexual misconduct charges brought against him. He had enough money to pay them off of course.

"Right, let's get cracking with this interview. So, what makes you want to be the manager of my York City Football Club then?"

Sam breathed deep, he had prepared for this question.

"It's a great club on the up and I want to be part of that. It deserves to be in the big time and I want to be the man to take it there."

"Hhhmm, and where do you see yourself in 5 years time?"

The Chairman sat back in his chair and studied the ex-Liverpool legend carefully. Famed for being able to spot someone talking bull, he was smelling it now.

"At the club still, in the top division, hopefully the dominant force in English Football."

Jack coughed as he heard the response.

"Replacing Manchester United?"

"Well I have a feeling this will be Sir Alex's last before retirement and I think it's a tough job to step into to make the players play for them."

"And do you think you could do that here? Gary Mills had a great rapport with the players after leading us out of the Conference last year."

"Well I wouldn't go in and demand respect, I'd earn it. I like to think my winning medals in my career and international experience would give me a platform to be admired and listened to."

"What would you bring to the role then?"

"What I brought to the pitch every 90 minutes; determination, winning attitude, 110% every game, professionalism, and will-to-win. I want to win every game. You've always got to be looking up."

The mention of his personal catchphrase was well researched and well placed, as Jack looked up and remembered when he took a chance one day while looking up and seeing an air plane. He decided it was an industry worth moving into and started investing his cash into the aeronautics business. He never looked back and owed his millions to the chance he took that day, and was feeling the urge to take another chance.

Sam watched him nod his head at the answer then look deep in thought, so he followed it up after a few seconds for him to digest it.

"There is something in this team; you may have lost the last 23 games in a row, but after the Carling Cup exit you won the first 3 games, and drew the next. The losing sequence was instigated by the Johnstone Paint Trophy loss, and I believe that if I get that winning mentality back then I can lead the club to safety."

"So tell me more of you as a person? How would your best friend describe you in three words?"

It was Sam's turn to be lost in memories. His best friend was currently in London's Pentonville Prison, put there by his own betrayal and undoubtedly the words chosen would not be complimentary. In fairness Shaun Williams' masterminding of the blackmail plot, long-term affair with his wife and kidnapping deserved the actions he took, but he doubt the villain saw it that way. He absent-mindedly felt the envelope in his pocket again, the contents detailing which one of them fathered his children. He had to know, but was too scared to find out.

"Can't think? What about the Wife? She's a looker that one, you picked well."

Sam laughed at the comment, he thought he picked well on their wedding day until the details of her infidelity came out. The woman was driven by money, and tried to have him killed just for a million dollar cheque.

"Um, we're currently separated and she's out of the country at the moment. Both of them would say I was honest, reliable and hard-working though."

Jack nodded in agreement, half-remembering a story in the paper of her in Holloway Women's Prison awaiting a drug's charge. He made a note to ask Susan to research it but his mind wandered when he thought of her and he considered offering her a substantial Christmas bonus to sleep with him.

"Right, right, where was I? So next steps. I'm going to make my decision soon as the next game is on Saturday and we've got three away games before the end of the year and we are 13 points from safety. I want the new manager in charge for the Rotherham match who are in the play-off places. If I offered you the job would you be ready to start on Friday for training?"

Sam thought about Helena's reluctance but nodded to confirm. Danny and Shaun were not going to be an issue, he'd put his life on it.

[mistahc]

Chapter 3

Shaun Williams was running through the forest in a light shower, being hunted by a beast. It was dark and the branches lashed at him as he blindly stumbled through. The trees were sprouting gherkins and they slapped him as he pushed past, and the wind seemed to howl in laughter at him. He tripped over something and fell to the floor, the gherkins moved closer and surrounded him spanking him around the face, the low growl of the bear echoed in the distance. The gherkins moved apart and the Beast loomed close and stood over him menacingly on its hind legs and his eyes were drawn to its furry bearhood. He screamed as it mounted him.

He woke in a sweat in his prison cell and winced as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and gingerly climbed down the ladder. He walked like John Wayne to pick up the newly delivered paper, and groaned as he bent over to pick it up. He heard laughter and looked behind him as his huge hairy cell-mate blew him a kiss. He swore that he would not get caught unaware again and revenge would be his. He wished his brother was with him and wondered why he hadn't heard from him since Sam had stitched him up and got him arrested. That was the name on top of his hit-list. That payback would be planned to perfection to maximise the satisfaction, the perfect time-filler for his idle moments, and he had plenty of them. No-one screwed over the Williams’ boys and got away with it, and he just needed Danny to break him out to get things started and find whichever rock he was hiding under.

He looked in the mirror and was startled by the bruises on his face. No-one had the jump on him to hurt him before so it was a novel experience. Once he was healed the Beast was going to feel his wrath. He sat on the toilet to do his morning constitutional and instantly regretted it; he held back the tears as he re-opened old wounds to not give his tormentor the satisfaction. He held up the paper to cover the grimaces on his face. He flicked to the sports pages and got the shock of his life.

The York Board have today confirmed the appointment of Sam Heywood as the new boss at Bootham Crescent. The ex-Liverpool legend enjoys a growing reputation within football and it is hoped that his appointment will take York onto bigger and better things. In his first appointment he announced the signing of ex-Chelsea star Gustavo Aveldano as assistant manager, and the duo are due to take their first training session today.

York City Chairman Jack Collins welcomes him to the Minstermen and wishes him luck with the task at hand and was quoted as saying "We're in a tough relegation battle and Sam's aim is to avoid relegation and preserve our status in this division.". York are currently struggling to avoid the drop and will not be able to emerge from the relegation zone in their next match, regardless of the result. The club sit bottom with just 10 points, and critics are questioning the appointment of an inexperienced manager.

Sam Heywood recently retired after a glorious career and a final swansong season in New York with the Red Bulls. His agent is denying links to his old school friend notorious Liverpool Gangster Shaun Williams who is currently beginning a 20 year life sentence for possession with intent to distribute 20 kilo's of Cocaine in Pentonville Prison. He is shortly going to be transferred to Wormwood Scrubs to fulfil his term. His brother Danny is currently on Interpol's and the FBI's most wanted list, and was last seen in America. Mr Heywood's wife, underwear model stunner Kate Heywood is currently awaiting trial for assisting Shaun Williams in the drug deal, amid rumours of an affair between the two. Mr Williams denies both and took full responsibility for the narcotics possession and is expected to give evidence in her defence.

Turn to page 3 for pictures of Kate's beautiful boobs.

Shaun had a quick look then scrunched up the paper in anger at the audacity of his old friend. No-one seemed to fear him any more and they were making a big mistake. He safely took out page 3 and wiped himself with story, rolling the rest up tightly.

"Hey! I haven't read that yet."

The beast had sat up and was getting up to give him another beating when he stopped at the sight of the anger burning in his eyes, something had changed and he was walking taller and braver despite holding the back pages smeared with blood and excrement. Before he could get up to defend himself the first punch flew in and broke his nose, and a flurry preceded the shoving of the Sun where it doesn't shine. He choked on the sports pages as they were stuffed down his throat as he tried to call for the guards for help.

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Sam was sitting in his new office proudly and watching the first team train through the window. He was looking at the free transfer list intently, seeing as he had a very limited budget. First he had some business to do, and picked up the phone and dialled a number.

"PC Blake, Serious Crimes Unit."

"Hi, it's Sam Heywood. Any news on Danny Williams yet?"

"Still nothing. When the NYPD got to the hotel you said; they found his room door kicked in and signs of a struggle. But no sign of him then or since. They are working on a theory one of the rival gangs may have got there first. I'll let you know if I hear anything. Thanks for the tip on Shaun, he's safely banged up. Good news on your wife though, I have a feeling she is going to be released in the next few weeks."

"Thanks"

Sam cut the call and flicked up the league table on the internet while he tried to work out if it was good news or not. He wanted her out of his life, but the kids needed her.

 | Pos   | Inf   | Team           |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Barnet         |       | 25    | 6     | 5     | 14    | 16    | 33    | -17   | 23    | 
|________________________________________________________________________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Dag & Red      |       | 25    | 4     | 9     | 12    | 19    | 35    | -16   | 21    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |       | 25    | 3     | 1     | 21    | 5     | 35    | -30   | 10    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 

[mistahc]

Chapter 4

3 away games in 7 days to finish the year off. Three games to get some points on the board and help them to safety. Three games to start his managerial career with a much needed win.

Poetry in motion saw Sam start his managerial career at Rotherham's New York Stadium. A good performance to raise morale was essential, a win would be an incredible first step. He gathered his squad and motivated them, them in awe of his achievements as a player and some struggling to understand his thick Liverpool accent. His passion didn't need words though and it was in abundance. He was back in football after a short hiatus and the smell of the grass on the pitch invigorated him.

He loved every minute of it, mentally kicking every ball with them, feeling every tackle and heading every defensive clearance. He celebrated like a mad-man with Gus when McDaid bagged an 83rd minute winner, running onto the pitch and sliding on his knee's and ruining his suit, earning a ticking off from the forth official. But it was worth it. He was back in the game he loved, and couldn't be happier. As they celebrated the final whistle he looked up to the Director's box and looked for Helena but could only see the Chairman celebrating wildly. She was home-sick, and not sleeping well and he worried about her. She needed friends and only time would bring that, and in the mean time she'd have to make do following him around from hotel to hotel.

McDaid scored an early goal in the Boxing Day trip to Oxford in the 2-1 win, and bagged a brace in the 3-3 draw with AFC Wimbledon. His strike partner Chambers hadn't scored at all, so Sam made some move in the free transfer market to bring in Ian Henderson and Tadhg Purcell for the New Year. The accent had begun.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Barnet         |       | 27    | 7     | 5     | 15    | 19    | 36    | -17   | 26    | 
| _______________________________________________________________________________________________________| 

| 23rd  |       | Dag & Red      |       | 28    | 4     | 10     | 14    | 20    | 39    | -19   | 22   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | [b]YORK  [/b]        |       | 28    | 5     | 2     | 21    | 11     | 39    | -28   | 17    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 

Helena sat quietly at the table while the other women made small talk with each other. It was New Years Eve and they were in a local restaurant to celebrate the club's form at Chairman Jack Collins invitation. He was paying and had invited his secretary and was currently leering over her drunkenly whispering in her ear, her face a mix of shock and disgust. Helena looked away and over at the beautiful woman Gus had brought as a date, convinced she was as fake as her cleavage and she was laughing with the Captain's wife and both looking her at disapprovingly. She looked down at her clothes and guessed it was because she was looking a bit dowdy in comparison to these glamorous women. She glanced at Sam laughing and joking with Gus and she wondered if he would even notice if she wasn't there, so promptly got up and went to the toilet.

She walked and went straight to the mirror. She did look plain in contrast, and it was because she didn't want men to see her as a sex object. She pulled at the bags under her eyes and wanted to sleep like she used to, before the drama of the last year. She was hoping 2012 would be a better year. She turned and sat in the cubicle and pulled down her knickers and looked at them round her ankles, even they were granny pants and not sexy. She stroked her thighs and looked for evidence of the bruising that was long since gone. The external scars had healed, but the internal ones grew stronger and she began to sob softly, stopping only when she heard the door open and someone enter the cubicle next door.

"Is that you in there Helena?"

She stayed silent while she tried to distinguish the voice. The accent was odd, different to Sam's and more like the Chairman's. She hated England and wanted to go home, they all talked funny and it was cold. The voice pipped up again from above her and she jumped as she saw the young girl leaning over the side.

"I know it is, I saw you come in and it's the only locked cubicle, hiya love. Sam asked me to check on you when he saw you run off. I was happy to just to escape Jack; he's quite handsy that man, but I need the job. I don't mind telling you he's just put an indecent proposal my way and not sure what to do. What do you think? Should I let him sleep with me for £50000? I reckon it will only take a minute for him to shoot his load so could be easy money. I've only got to let him stick it in and squeeze my tits and he'll burst I reckon."

Helena was aghast and tried to cover herself up, and tried to mumble something about how inappropriate and rude the English were, and the woman carried on regardless.

"I would ask that Spanish girl with Gus but I think she's an Escort so she'd say 'do it' wouldn't she? I can't ask Jackie the Captain's wife as she's a stuck up cow, she was bitching about your top just now but I think it's nice to hide your boobs now and again. I can't as mine as massive."

She grabbed them in both hands to illustrate her point and Helena screwed up her face in shock at the brashness, but again she continued.

"You are really pretty, why don't you dress up a bit and show it off? I was looking at photo's of Sam's wife in Heat today, she was a stunner so he must have an eye for the ladies. Northern lasses will be all over him so you should make sure his eyes stay on you. You are from New York aren't you? I've always wanted to go there. What's it like? Maybe I'll go if I take Jack's offer. Oooohh, hold on. My IBS is kicking in after that Pizza. Gotta go now, speak to you in a bit."

Helena sat agog as the sounds of the world falling out of Susan's arse echoed off the walls, with the occasional 'sorry' as she farted loudly. The main door opened and someone choked on the smell and tutted loudly, spurring Susan into action.

"Oohhhh fook off you slag, like your **** don't stink."

Helena laughed for the first time since arriving in England and the sound of flushing resonated from the cubicle, at least she hoped it was and not more diarrhoea. The face then popped back over.

"I really shouldn't eat Pizza, what was I thinking. Right come on love, get those knickers on and let's do your make-up and we'll hit the town, I'm in the mood for getting pissed and you are coming with me. It's not everyday you get free champagne."

Helena didn't correct her on the correct pronunciation of the drink, but instead followed her instructions and felt better for it. Even if her make-over made her look like a ****. She had been in the company of Susan for about 10 minutes and had not said a word, but there was something about her she liked. She wasn't initially sure what Jack saw in the crude girl to want to pay double her yearly wages to sleep with her, but after they exited and he spent the rest of the night trying to nuzzle his head in his ample breasts it made sense. Although he might have been trying to protect himself from her toxic wind which cleared the dance floor later.

[BenArsenal]

Ooh, what a titillating start! *snigger*

I jest of course. Brilliant stuff as always. Got me hooked (once more)

[mistahc]

Chapter 5

Sam awoke with a foggy head and was surprised to find Helena cuddled up in his arms sleeping soundly. The drink had obviously helped her pass out and it was the first night for as long as he could remember that she had not woken up mid-night from her dreams. He panicked momentarily until he felt her chest rise and fall with her breathing. He looked at his watch and it was before 9am, six hours until his first home game kicked off.

He stroked her face and wiped some of the excessive make-up off. While he was delighted to see her coming out of the toilet smiling for a change, she did look and smell like a cheap tart. He looked around the hotel room and realised how sick he was of living in one, and it would soon be time to get a property. He wondered how much he meant the commitment he showed in his interview, and if he would still be here past the end of a season. He decided renting was a better option, so carefully slid his arm away and fired up the laptop for some research. He found a few suitable properties and liked the look of the ones with good home security. He had savings and was earning £775 per week which could provide for something good.

He left her sleeping and went for a shower to freshen up. On his return she was awake and suffering with wine flu, so went to get her some breakfast. As he did he saw Gus waving goodbye to his companion Maria in the breakfast area with a massive grin on his face. He danced over.

"I love this country man, the women are fantastic. First home game today, can't wait. You nervous?"

"A bit. The team are struggling for fitness and expect some hangovers today. Hoping to get a good win. You?"

"Me? Why would I be nervous man? No-one ever blames the assistant, it's a win-win for me. Come on, let's go for a run."

Sam's face paled at the thought as he had a few drinks himself, and he looked at Gus to ascertain if he was serious. The laugh confirmed he wasn't.

"I'm kidding man, I'm going back to bed as I've been up all night, wake me up at lunchtime."

And off he went. It was lucky he had a great footballing brain as he might be considered a liability by some. Sam took Helena some breakfast then went down to the training ground to put the players through light runs.

The new signings Henderson and Purcell made their débuts in the 5-2 win, with Henderson grabbing a double and Purcell making a goal-scoring start. The team scored as many in the one match as they had done in the league before Sam's arrival. Experts thought his arrival would signal a move to a more defensively solid unit, and were not expecting this show of firepower.

In the 8 days before the next game, Helena found a house she liked and they paid the 6 months rent up front. With her happy, and the team playing well, Sam was ecstatic and it was a delight to see her sleeping properly and smiling. She seemed to have found a friend in Susan and they would go off shopping a lot, the young girl seemed to have money to burn and they talked of a holiday together to New York.

It enabled Sam to focus on the football, and he was delighted to have a strong team to pick from for his second home game against 4th placed Exeter, with his dream front trio of McDaid and Purcell with Henderson supporting. He was delighted when Kerr banged in an injury time winner to take them to 6 points from the safety zone. Moral and form were kings, and if Dagenham didn't win the same day they could have jumped from the bottom.

Sam was finding this managerial malarkey easy, and even with fitness issues was confident going into the Burton away game. So was understandably disappointed when they lost 3-0. More so when he saw that Dagenham somehow beat 2nd placed AFC Wimbledon away, and the only saving grace was Barnet lost to keep to gap from safety at 6 points. One step forward, one back. At least they have a week to recover and get the time back to fitness.

Accrington was next up at Bootham Crescent and it took just 5 minutes for them to roar into a 2-0 lead. So it was a shame when they were pulled back to 2-2 by half-time, and a kicker when they completed the comeback and went 3-2 up in the 47th minute. Purcell got a late equaliser but it wasn't good enough as Dagenham won to climb above Barnet who also drew. Sam's York were bottom and 7 points from safety.

The long trip to Plymouth would complete the month of January, and the club could not get off the bottom even with a win. It was irrelevant as they lost their second game since he took charge, with a narrow 2-1 reverse. McDaid getting his 8th of the season. Luckily both Barnet and Dagenham also lost.

Despite 7 points from a possible 15 they were still rock bottom.

At the end of the Month Sam was sat in the Chairman's business office once more and he felt uncomfortable.

"So Sam, how do you feel this last month has gone?"

"Not too bad. Could have been better, could have been worse. I'm disappointed we are still bottom, but since I arrived I've more than doubled the points tally for the season. If we collected the points at the same ratio all season as we have done in the last 8 we'd be 4th."

Jack grumbled in a way that suggested Sam's neck was in the noose, and the manager instinctively rubbed it protectively.

"Well I want a good February. Let's blow the competition away and get up that league. We've already lost to Barnet twice so can't take points of them that way. Luckily there is still Dagenham to play."

"Well the Barnet game was the loss that prompted Mills sacking before I came here."

"There's no need to be defensive Sam. I was just saying."

There was a knock on the door as Susan brought some drinks in. Her clothes seemed to have shrunk and looked more stylish. She looked at the Chairman and purred at him.

"Do you want anything else Jack? Not sure if you'd last more than a few seconds with this coffee. Want cream in it?"

He appeared flushed and coughed awkwardly.

"No pet, you alright. off you go now."

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Dag & Red      |       | 33    | 7     | 10    | 16    | 26    | 43    | -17   | 31    | 
| _______________________________________________________________________________________________________|
|                                                                                                        |
| 23rd  |       | Barnet         |       | 33    | 8     | 6     | 19    | 25    | 48    | -23   | 30    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |       | 33    | 7     | 3     | 23    | 21    | 49    | -28   | 24    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 

[Infonote]

Nice story.

[chesterfan2]

good work, fella. enjoying it greatly. Carry on.

[mistahc]

Thanks for the support Gents, doing a lot today as it's been raining heavily, but will slow down now after this chapter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6

February saw the return of the Mac. Darren MacMurray was visiting with his Fleetwood team, soaring high in 11th place. Both managers needed a win to boost their teams hopes and fortunes. York's morale had dipped with the 3 games without a win and they really need to bounce back in style to have a chance of breaking out of the relegation places in the 4 games in the month. The two new signings had a goal apiece as they commanded a 2-0 half-time win and were cruising. They had been here before though against Accrington, but form is temporary and class is permanent. Shame York had neither, or any luck. They battled to protect the lead into the final minutes and it was squeaky bum time, Sam was as clenched as Susan after a pizza. Yet again they threw it away with a last minute nodding off to capitulate and it ended 2-2, two more points dropped. To make matters worse both Barnet and Dagenham won to leave them further adrift.

A win away to Aldershot was now essential as morale was rock bottom and so were the team who were 11 points from safety. He fired up his troops and sent them out ready for battle, and Kerr and Henderson gave them yet another 2-0 lead at half-time. All they had to do was hold it, and Sam did his best William Wallace impersonation to inspire them. Marvellously they did, to make it 20 goals for and 16 against in Sam's first 10 games. The only bad news was Barnet and Dagenham also won, but at least the Minstermen had hopefully turned the corner and could go on a potential winning streak. Sam eagerly awaited the next Saturday fixture against Rochdale at home and welcomed the opportunity to extend the run.

Prior to the match Sam was in his office when the phone rang. He saw a post-it on his desk saying a journalist had called earlier for an interview, so thought it was him and answered cheerily.

"Hello, York Football Club Manager's office."

"Hi, can I speak to Sam Heywood please?"

"Speaking, who is this?"

"Just a reporter looking for a story."

"Oh yeah, what paper? The accent's Belfast isn't it?"

"Yes, The Belfast Gazette."

"Oh right, doing a piece on McDaid are you? He's only 22 and banged in 7 in the last 9 games he's played in. Do you reckon he's due a call up for Northern Ireland then?"

"Maybe, he's doing well alright. Are you happy with life in York?"

"Yes, settling in well now, and enjoying myself."

"Good. Miss your wife much?"

"What's that got to do with anything? She's still in Holloway Prison awaiting her trial. There has been delays I've heard."

"Do your kids miss their mum? How do they feel their mum is inside and their dad put her there?"

"That's a bit personal isn't it? What's that got to anything? They are happy at my parents thanks and still going to the same school to keep some normality in their routine."

He opened his desk drawer and the envelope was still there, sealed and unread. He picked it up and rapped it softly against his open palm, battling internally if he wanted to open it or not, questioning if he would love them any less because of the results, speculating on if it would change how he felt about them and if he could still look them in the eye on his visits.

"Any interest in signing any new players?"

"No, we don't have the wage budget."

"That's a shame, I've heard of a good one that wants to come and play for you. He's called Danny Williams."

The name hung in the air while his mind processed the information. That voice, it sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

"What did you just say?"

"I told you before, you feck with me and I'll blow your house up. Danny says hello, and asked me to leave a little gift for you in the Main Stand. I look forward to reading the reviews of the match. I hope the match starts with a real bang."

Sam's blood ran cold and he sat frozen as he digested the words. It was Gus who broke him out of it as he knocked on the office door.

"C'mon gaffer you have a team talk to do. I've done the warm-ups and submitted the team sheet, and we kick-off in 30 minutes."

Sam jumped into action and ran to the directors box, ordering Gus to get the Stadium Manager, the Security Manager and the Head of Media & Communications. He burst in during one of Jack's sponsor speeches and interrupted.

"Jack, we need to get everyone out of here NOW."

He pushed his way to the phone against the flow of enraged match sponsors and the Chairman's face was one of fury. He dialled the police on the speaker phone so everyone could hear, as the gathered staff joined them confused.

"Police, what's your emergency?"

"I've just been advised there is a bomb in the Stadium. We need the bomb squad here now!"

"Please slow down sir and talk calmly. Where are you?"

"Don't you trace calls!?! Bootham Crescent! And a bomb is due to go off at kick off. We have 25 minutes before thousands die."

The operator sighed and transferred him to the anti-terrorism unit, warning him of the penalty of wasting police time. As he was on hold he pleaded with the Chairman to get everyone out of the Stadium, and the Head of Media shook his head.

"On what basis? It would cost us a fortune to reschedule now, and what would we say?"

The anti-terrorist squad answered the phone and Sam diverted his response to them, while Gus was nervously eyeing the door, one of the few people who knew and experienced the trouble in New York and who truly appreciated the danger.

"I've just been told there is a bomb in the York City Stadium, my name is Sam Heywood and I manage the club. I received a call from a Belfast man named Seamus to advise me there is a bomb in the Main Stand. There's people in there now getting ready for the game, we must do something."

"Hold on, so he's not part of an active Terrorist organisation?"

"No, he's a militant for hire, he works for Danny Williams. I thought he was dead."

"Then who is the threat against, the football club?"

"No, at me."

"Then why hasn't he targeted you directly?"

"Ask him! He's the nutter!"

"Did you record this conversation? Do you know his surname? Forgive but saying a mad Irishman called Seamus is trying to bomb you is like asking us to find a Muslim named Mohamed."

"Listen, speak to PC Blake of the Serious Crimes Unit. Danny Williams is on the most wanted list, Seamus is a known associate and must come up on the system somewhere. Please believe me, this man is a first class psychopath. Check it out, I'm begging you."

"Please hold."

Sam banged his fists in frustration and looked at the Chairman with pleading eyes.

"Sam, are you sure about all this? That's a lot of fans to turn away. It does sound a bit far fetched. The reorganisation will be a pain, the match sponsors will have to be appeased, and we'd have to offer Rochdale free travel to come back."

"Please Jack, it's not worth the risk. The club will be ruined if it's true."

The Chairman paused and looked at his staff, who seemed mixed. The Security Manager wanted to evacuate and the Stadium Manager didn't. The phone sprang into life again to silence the paniced discussion.

"Mr Heywood, we are sending a team down now. We advise you evacuate immediately."

Sam didn't wait for the Chairman's approval and set the fire alarm off. The Security Manager grabbed his radio and ordered a full evacuation to the fire points. Sam ran to the pitch and grabbed the microphone from the Stadium announcer and urged people to leave calmly and quickly to boos from the crowd wanting the game to be played and nervously looked at his watch. A small group started singing 'we shall not be moved', so he went over to personally plead with them. Time was running out.

After the last of the crowd were cleared and he joined the security staff at the safe point with 5 minutes to spare. The streets were carnage with people everywhere, pushing and shoving each other as they were told to go home. Away fans mixed with the home fans and it caused tension. It was chaos and the Police had to evacuate nearby houses as they sent the robots in. Sam repeated the phone conversation he had to the officer in charge, who noted it intently and quizzed him on the details of how they met.

"Seamus Doherty, is this the man you saw in New York?"

Sam nodded at the picture, and the officers face scrunched into a grimace.

"The file says inactive for the last 5 years. Must have been laying low."

The robot operator called to his senior that he could not find anything in the short time they had and they all looked at their watches as it hit 3pm. Sam stood behind the van and put his fingers in his ears and held his breath.

Nothing.

"Wait for it, he might be running late."

It took hours for the Police to check all of the ground and they found nothing. There were injuries in the crowd, and the Police said it was lucky that it was Rochdale and not a team with a known hooligan following. Sam sat crest-fallen in the boardroom for the debriefing. There was no evidence to suggest Seamus Doherty had entered the country, the call was not recorded and was just shown to be from a payphone near the ground. The Police expert summarised an away fan trying to be funny. No-one was laughing, especially as Barnet had put more points on the board to increase the gap to safety. The Chairman and Chief of Media and Communications were glaring at him, the cost of the reschedule tallying in their heads.

Sam was forlorn as he walked home with his shoulders slumped. He looked like an idiot and more importantly the team had lost the momentum of the winning mentality. He phone thrilled and he looked at the unknown number calling and answered.

"On Jaysus you looked a right eejit on Sky News. What a craic that was watching you run around like a fool."

Sam ended the call and swore loudly to disapproving looks from parents nearby. He decided to keep the truth secret from Helena and follow the official fan hoax to stop her worrying, but it was obvious he had a problem again. What was more concerning was the mention of Danny, Helena could not know he was potentially alive, but Sam would not accept it. If he was, why had he waited so long to surface?

He was nervous in the match against Gillingham for two reasons; a repeat call from Seamus and losing. They had to win. Luckily Henderson was up to the task and bagged a double as they won 2-1. Feb was over, and they had closed the gap to 5 points.

In the monthly meeting Jack said the results were good but the finances were not, and he was far from happy at the losses made that month largely due to the bomb evacuation fiasco. They were still firmly rooted to the bottom of the league and the panic was beginning to set in. It was lucky Susan was suggestively eating a Chocolate Éclair to defuse the situation, accidentally letting a bit of cream squirt all over her breasts and theatrically asking how she could ever wipe it off. Sam was hastily dismissed from the meeting and the next day saw Susan seemingly driving a new car which puzzled him.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Port Vale      |       | 36    | 8     | 12    | 16    | 44    | 53    | -9    | 36    | 
| _______________________________________________________________________________________________________|
|                                                                                                        |
| 23rd  |       | Barnet         |       | 36    | 10     | 6     | 20    | 32    | 56    | -24   | 36   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |       | 36    | 9     | 4     | 23    | 27    | 52    | -25   | 31    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 

[Wegason]

Now this is an interesting story. KUTGW

[tenthreeleader]

The thing I'm most glad about here is seeing you back on the writing bicycle with recurring characters.

Excellent.

[mistahc]

Chapter 7

Sam opened the letter without looking too much at the envelope, and was surprised to see it was from the Crown Prosecution Service calling him to act as a witness in his wife's trial at the end of the month. He closed his eyes and sat down and pondered his options. He had to go, he had no choice in the matter. He also needed to tell the truth as he'd be under oath. That could possibly make public a few things he was not happy to share.

He walked to the wall calender and marked the dates. He would still be around for the first four games of the month but would at least miss the Cheltenham game depending on how long the trial would go on for. He picked up the phone and made two calls, one to Jack to tell his Chairman he needed time off, and the other to PC Blake of the Serious Crime Unit to find out why he was called up to give evidence when it seemed so cut and dried.

"It's a show-boating young lawyer trying to make a name for himself as someone who puts people away and not let them walk the streets. He won't let Kate off easy like we expected, he wants to push for sentencing for a significant role in the drugs operation, which carries a 6-9 year sentence. She's front page news and he wants a part the fame of a high profile case."

"How can they link her?"

"They just need to prove very little, if any, awareness or understanding of the scale of operation. She was in the car with him, and they will try to prove they were together on a deal even though Shaun took the rap for it and said he was working alone. That's why the court case has been delayed, this lawyer's been investigating heavily to make it stick."

"She's not involved. Can't you do anything?"

"I just arrest people, the CPS take it from there."

Sam sighed and dreaded the thought of the details of his call to the police and hoped they didn't delve too deep into his marriage. He was beginning to regret coming back to England and wished he just emigrated to Australia instead. Surely they couldn't have called him to court from there. His team were still rock bottom of the league and 5 points from safety, and he really needed some wins desperately, not be missing matches for a media-heavy court-room.

First up was a trip to Wycombe, and he played the strongest team possible. The team raced into being 0-2 down after conceding two quick goals, and Sam was livid. He roared at his team to get forward and they pulled one back, but quickly conceded again. They pulled it back to 3-2 just before the half-time whistle but it wasn't good enough. Sam checked his phone and saw that Port Vale were losing and Barnet only drawing. He gave his team the hairdryer and earned the nickname Max Power, urging them to take the chance to close the gap and keep the club in the league. The encouragement worked and they won 5-3 to wild celebrations. Until they saw Barnet and Port Vale won too, and they began to feel like they just did not have the luck to get out of the relegation scrap.

It was now time for a relegation six-pointer as they travelled to a Torquay side who were 5 points ahead of them in joint 21st place with Barnet and Port Vale, and it was a real chance to hang on to the coat tails of the clubs above. The team produced a solid performance and won 2-1 to close the gap to just two points. Barnet won again, but this put the Minstermen to just 2 points away from the Gulls and the Vale.

The form had turned around and it was always a welcome sight to have a home game. So it was a shame the visitors were a rampant Rochdale riding high in second place. Two goal in the first five minutes from Paddy McLaughlin gave York the ideal start and they ran out 4-1 winners. While Barnet and Torquay won, they managed to draw level with Port Vale and were only bottom on Goal Difference. Sam was delighted by the result and knew the next game was vital as it was against Dagenham who were two points above them.

It was simple, win away and they'd be off the bottom. It would be Sam's last game in charge for the short-term, and he had a chance to finally get out of the relegation fight if results went their way. Sam riled his players and inspired them to a 2-0 win, and their 10th in 15 games. In total they had picked up 33 points out of a possible 45. That form if sustained all season would have seen the club top of the league by 14 points at this stage of the season.

But Jack Collins just saw the lowly league position and he warned Gus the wins must continue in Sam's absence.

"Win-win being the assistant manager eh Gus?" Sam laughed, referring to their conversation on New Years day. "Best get some results then?"

"Si, no problemo el captaino. You be back soon eh?"

Gus didn't look too impressed and had a face like a man who was asked to be Best Man at a wedding, it was a truly great honour but all eyes would be on him to entertain on behalf of his manager.

"As soon as I can, I'll be back."

Helena decided to finally take that New York trip with Susan so Sam travelled to London for the trial alone, with the CPS insisting he stayed in a hotel under protection. With Seamus and potentially Danny in the wind, he was happy to oblige and glad that Helena was safely miles away. She didn't want to be a part of the high-profile case anyway, and definitely didn't want to be splashed on the front pages too.

Sam took the train down and picked up a tabloid left on the table. Kate was front page news.

Kate baked

Former model and businesswoman Kate Heywood has been given pharmaceutical drugs to calm her for her trial that starts tomorrow. Full story and Kate topless on Page 3.

She is accused of being a part of a drugs gang with the Criminal Underworld siblings The Williams Brothers. Four months ago as part of a huge transnational police operation to arrest Shaun and Danny Williams, she was arrested in her husband's car with notorious villain Shaun with 20 kilo's of cocaine hidden in the rear wheel. Although only his finger prints were found on the drugs and he took full responsibility in his trial, prosecuting lawyer Stephen Kingman believes Kate was there to assist in the deal, and had full knowledge and participation in the brothers business operation.

The world's media are awaiting the trial with interest as it is rumoured that her husband ex-Liverpool player and current York City manager Sam Heywood, and Shaun Williams will give evidence in her trial.

Shaun is currently serving a 20 year sentence and being held at Wormwood scrubs in solitary after being moved from Pentonville Prison where he violently assaulted his cell-mate. Mr Williams is due to be transported to Wakefield maximum security prison after the trial finishes.

After days of sitting around while the jury was confirmed, the trial finally started. It could not come soon enough as Sam was bored of waiting and wanted to be training with his team rather than being stuck in the hotel. The Police guard would not even let him leave, even when he told them how ridiculous it was as they didn't seem to care before he arrived. They told him he was more high profile now, which he understood as it would be bad press if anything happened to him while the trial was on.

He found out the information of the trial by watching the news, she had pleaded not guilty and looked plain and withdrawn in the artist's impression. She was smartly dressed, and only spoke when asked a question, choosing to look at the floor whenever possible. The defence painted her as the ideal mother, and that the kids longed for her return. They argued she was only going to the airport to pick up her husband and that Shaun had come with her to surprise Sam on his arrival. That was true, but they failed to mention that the surprise was she had wanted her lover to kill him for the money he was bringing home. He still battled internally if he should share her evilness or not. His kids needed their mother but he was there on at the request of the prosecution not the defence, and he had no idea what they planned to ask him.

Days went by and it was taking longer than he expected, and the Cheltenham game was upon him before he had even been to court. He was forced to follow the updates on the club website and grimaced as his side lost 2-1 and slipped back into the relegation zone on goal difference. He was gutted and felt he should and could have been there as had spent the week in his own solitary confinement waiting for his starring role. He texted Gus his thanks that he was helping him look like the Messiah of York and setting up a grand slam finale for his return to come and save the day.

The news indicated that in the coming days the witnesses would be called, so match time was almost upon him.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Torquay        |       | 41    | 9     | 16    | 16    | 45    | 49    | -4    | 43    | 
| _______________________________________________________________________________________________________|
|                                                                                                                                                 | 
| 23rd  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |       | 41    | 13    | 4     | 24    | 41    | 59    | -18   | 43    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Port Vale      |       | 41    | 9     | 14    | 18    | 48    | 58    | -10   | 41    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 

[mistahc]

Chapter 8

“Are you talking to me?”

Sam was looking in the mirror, and doing a passable De Niro impression. In truth he looked more like Jake La Motta than Travis Bickle; his bulbous broken nose monopolising the reflection. He attempted to flatten his hair and rubbed the stubble on his chin, and smirked at the recollection of the injury that changed his face forever.

It was ironically a Boxing Day clash with arch-rivals Manchester United in the North-West Derby. He was marking Dwayne Spooney weeks after the tabloids broke the news of him allegedly using an elderly call-girl, and he was relishing pushing that famous temper in a bid to get him sent off. It worked, but his good looks paid the price.

He lifted his hands over the bridge of his nose and moved them swiftly to the side, the sound of his nails on his teeth mimicking the crunching sound. The kids loved it when he did that. The kids…….

His thoughts drifted to them, and as always he imagined them playing together joyously. He hoped they wouldn’t find out what happened today but it would be impossible to hide with the press waiting to share the news with the world. Sam sighed and wondered if there was a war going off somewhere that deserved the coverage more and lost the train of thought as he caught sight of some protruding nostril hair which seemed to grow outwards by the minute.

He jumped when the phone shrilled next to him, the vibrations magnifying through the wooden dresser. The display showed no number and he assumed it was Helena wishing him luck. It made a change from the Facetime, which was impossible to do without Susan feeling the need to exposing her buttocks and playing them like bongos. Humorous maybe, but not what he needed to see.

“Hey babe, good timing! I need to leave soon.”

“Babe? You should be so lucky.”

Something was wrong. The accent was Belfast. And male. It quickly dawned on him who the caller was.

“Sweet Jesus.”

“No, Seamus. But I’m flattered all the same. That’s very apt though, it being Easter and all. Wonder if he’ll come back from the dead today? I like a nice resurrection so I do.”

“What do you want, haven’t you already punished me enough with that bomb threat fiasco?”

“We’re just getting started Sammy boy and I have a message to deliver. Do not, and I repeat DO NOT say anything that will harm the defence of your wife or Shaun today. Do you understand me? Bad things will happen if you do, very bad things.”

“Go **** yourself.”

“That’s not very nice. In some ways I hope you don’t comply, as I’d quite like to string you up and crucify you. We’ve got unfinished business you and I. What did you have to eat last night, I hope it was fitting of a last supper. Maybe I’ll go find that wee girl of yours too, pay her a little visit too?”

Sam hung up; he was beyond caring. Helena was safe back in America and he was about to go through Hell in the courtroom anyway, the mad Irishman could do nothing that he wouldn’t welcome about now.

He jumped again at the loud banging on the door. Police did not know how to be gentle.

“Mr Heywood, are you ready?”

Sam opened the door, his strapping frame filing the entranceway and towering over his bodyguard. The policeman sensed the apprehension at his stature so casually let his jacket drop open to show he was armed, and smiled smugly back. Sam did feel safer.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get this over with.”

They strode purposely down the corridor and towards the exit, and the policeman flung his arm out to stop him, looking him purposely in the eye and he reeled off his orders.

“Right, we go out the door and head to the black car waiting outside with my colleague driving. The courts are only a few minutes away. You follow my pace exactly like we are the Arsenal back-line, stopping when I do, moving when I do. Clear?”

The ex-footballer just nodded and they pushed open the door into the morning air, right into the glare of the sunshine forcing their hands up to provide a shadow over their eyes. In a split second after his feet touched the pavement Sam was hit and fell backwards, the policeman wide-eyed in shock as the splatter streaked his face, scanning the environment for the perpetrator as the people nearby hid in terror.

He looked down at the mess of the man he was meant to be protecting as his ear-piece filled with chatter. He had instinctively drawn his weapon and slipped it back in the holster with the situation safe.

Sam stood up and brushed the egg-shell off his suit jacket, embarrassed at the shock of it toppling him. He looked to his protector grimly, and accepted the offer of a tissue.

“Great job buddy.”

The Policeman stammered something about kids, the benefit of sunglasses, and how the Met didn’t allow them as he quickly ushered him to the car.

Sam slid into the back seat, and ignored the laughter of the driver.

“You went down easily didn’t you big man? It must be the footballing gene, you felt contact so had to hit the deck.”

“Just drive will you.”

“You went down quicker than your club are. I see they threw away a 2-0 lead to draw against Southend yesterday and back into the bottom of the league. And at home too! Right bunch of April fools your lot.”

He was now giggling uncontrollably and his superior was obviously annoyed.

“PC Wellsbury, mind I remind you that you are on duty and professionalism is needed at all times. Just get us to the courts will you.”

“Yes Sarge.”

The car sped off as some local kids in Chelsea shirts threw eggs at the car and made obscene gestures. Sam guessed it was to do with his goal in the Champions League Semi-Final which knocked them out, but they didn’t look old enough to have been at that match.

Sam tried to steady himself like he would before a big match, but they were at the courts in minutes and the car windows were soon filled with flashing cameras as the press swarmed like locusts. He slid lower in his seat and spread his palm over the side of his face, but the car was soon by the entrance and he was out of the door. He pushed his way through the crowds and kept hearing his name being shouted, and it reminded him of a bunch of autograph hunters in his glory days.

Finally he was in the courts and was led to a quiet room to be prepped by the prosecution lawyer, feeling safer once he passed the metal-detector.

“Right Sam, I want you up there first and all you have to do is answer my questions and I’ll do the rest okay? What on earth happened to your jacket? It looks like a tramp has urinated on you.”

“It’s just an egg stain. Once I’m done then can I go back to York after that?”

“I’m afraid not. We may still need you. I’d like you to sit in the front of the court while Danny testifies. It will be harder for him to lie if he can see you and I want to stress him out.”

Sam stared at the solicitor and nodded, remembering PC Blake’s suggestion he was trying to make a story for himself. And all three of them in the court-room together would make a great story.

Prepared and ready, they walked briskly to the court, Sam following like a lost school-boy and sat where he was told. He felt all eyes on him so sat quietly and looked at the floor. His felt his palms were sweaty and his throat dry, and he hoped that they’d provide him water.

After what seemed like an eternity the room rose as the judge walked in, and the clerk said some words and in walked Katie, flanked by police officers. His beautiful wife Katie; looking like a heroin addict in jeans and a T-shirt. Her bleached blonde hair was pulled back into a pony-tail and you could clearly see her dark roots. She was pale and withdrawn with no make-up, and he could see the bags under her eyes from where he sat. She didn’t look at him, and simply mumbled something to her solicitor who passed her a water and some tablets.

It dawned on him that he had not seen her in the flesh since the adulterous night he caught her cheating. And he bit his lip at the thought of her flesh, naked and vulnerable. He visualised her on that day, every inch, recalling the smell of her perfume and the smoothness of her skin. His mind’s eye then repeated that night’s vision and threw in the image of a naked Shaun, and he scowled in recollection of why they were there and their actions that night. His mental image was exacerbated, and Shaun’s skin was glistening in the sweat of their love making, his body more muscular and his manhood larger.

He had to physically shake his head to remove the image, and looked round the court to find something else to concentrate his thoughts on. There was nothing, so he thought about his routine getting ready for a big match and visioned himself sitting in the Anfield dressing room fully kitted up, and the sounds of the stubs on the hard floor. He recalled the sounds of the crowd singing ‘you’ll never walk alone’ and closed his eyes and he was back there, in a better time and place. He came back to the present with someone nudging him and he looked up.

The Clerk took centre-stage and was like the ref preparing to get the game started. Whistle to his lips he read out the name of the first witness. Sam imagined it as the crowd calling his name so he stood up with pride. It was time for kick-off, so he headed out of the dressing room, along the tunnel and up onto the pitch. He had to stop himself applauding the public gallery for attending. He was in position and soon up against his opponent, Stephen Kingman, the solicitor acting for the prosecution. Only the ex-footballer stood in his way of sentencing Katie Heywood to a minimum of 6 years in Prison, and he was known as a no-nonsense defender in his playing days. The clerk kicked the game off.

“Please can you confirm your full name?”

“Samuel Lewis Heywood.”

“Please choose one of the affirmations in front of you.”

"I do solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and affirm that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

“Thank you. Prosecution, your witness.”

“Thank you, and thank to you Mr Heywood for giving evidence today. I intend to prove that your wife, Katherine Heywood, assisted Shaun Williams in his criminal activities, of which he has been already found and tried guilty. Please can you confirm how your wife met Mr Williams, and how long they have been acquaintances?”

“Shaun and I have been best friends since school and he was best man at my wedding. I guess they would have met through me about 6 years ago, when we first started dating.”

“Excellent, and were they close?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean did they spend a lot of time together?”

“Well yes, he is the Godfather to my kids, who see him as an uncle.”

“And were they having an affair?”

Sam stalled his answer and wet his palate. The question came out far more quicker and abruptly than he expected, and the solicitor was in no mood for a slow build up play. He was having his first shot on target already. Sam was at the cross-roads he knew was coming. Did he tell the truth, or lie? He chose not to swear on the bible, so it would only be perjury not eternal damnation at least.

“I caught them at my home together on one occasion, and this gave suggestion to the fact but was not conclusive.”

He had practised the answer a million times.

“Oh? They were in a sexual relationship? I understood that they admitted to you that there was a long-term affair, betraying your trust. I have witness statements confirming that they were indeed having an affair, which pre-dated your marriage.”

Sam cast a look over to his wife at the revelation, and despite her bowed head he could see she was softly crying. He tried to look into his heart and see how he’d feel if she was sentenced. She did deserve it the lying, manipulative and murderous bitch.

“I was not aware of that fact.”

“In fact Mr Heywood, I also believe he may be the father of your children. The physical similarities are there, but so far we have been denied permission for DNA testing. Is there something you are already aware of?”

“No. What’s your point? I want to leave the kids out of this.”

The Solicitor seemed taken aback by the attitude of his prosecuting witness who clearly was not playing ball, so changed the approach to beat the accomplished defender.

“Mr Heywood, the point is to prove that your wife had a relationship with Mr Williams, and also a business partnership. The point is that when Mr Williams was arrested your wife was sitting in the car next to him. In YOUR car Mr Heywood. I am trying to establish how 20 kilogram’s of a Class A narcotic ended up in a spare wheel in YOUR car, driven by YOUR wife, waiting at an airport to pick YOU up. If you didn’t call the police and tip them off to the situation, it may look like you were the one in the partnership. I am trying to establish a motive that your wife and Mr Williams would have to be in business together. Now have you been denying the DNA tests from going ahead?”

This wasn’t going the way it was planned. Sam was of course refusing the tests. He had already done it, and the envelope with the results was in his inside suit pocket. He absently mindedly moved his hand towards the recently opened envelope, and quickly brought it back to his side.

“Yes, I have as I do not want the kids to suffer from this. I am their father; I’ve changed their nappies, read them bed-times stories, been there when they’ve learnt to walk and kicked their first football. I’ve financially supported them and I love them with all my heart. They are my boys but they are Kate’s boys too, and they need their mother. She had nothing to do with any of Shaun’s business; she’s just a housewife who occasionally models.”

For the first time her head lifted and their eyes met. His heart melted like a fool, and he yearned for her. He almost continued and admitted his murky part in the tale, but held back. He smiled at her, but she was unresponsive.

“Then who put the drugs into the car Mr Heywood?”

“Shaun did. It was proved at his trial that his finger prints were the only ones found on them and he’s admitted as much. The keys were in the garage so he could have done it any time.”

Stephen Kingman could feel the trial slipping away. This was not the pre-agreed game-plan and he was not expecting this turn of events. He stared at his star witness and quietly seethed at his betrayal. He needed time to think his next plan of attack.

“Prosecution rests M’lud.”

The Judge looked to the defence and indicated they were up, and their solicitor stood up proudly.

“My esteemed colleague has done this for me your Honour, the defence has no questions for this witness.”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief that it was over with no real facts coming out, and headed for his seat. Kingman grabbed his arm as he passed and hissed into his ear.

“What was that? That wasn’t what we discussed. I’m going to bury you as soon as I get the chance.”

Sam shrugged him off and sat in his seat, and grimaced as he heard the name Shaun Williams read out for his turn as a witness. The door opened and in he strode; hand-cuffed and surrounded by Police. He took the stand and their eyes locked, mutual hatred burning.

Something was missing, it was the absence of fear. Maybe it was because he was going to be in Prison a long time, but despite his buffed out frame he didn’t seem so menacing. Something was off though, he was getting a chill from somewhere else and it was growing. He hadn’t noticed it before as he was too busy focusing on his turn in the witness box. He monitored Shaun’s movement for an indicator and saw a tiny smirk as he looked to the public gallery. Someone was up there he knew.

Sam’s eyes scanned the crowds faces, Seamus must be up there somewhere. He searched, looking closely at all the men and suddenly darted his sight back to focus on a fat older man. Something about him was familiar but he couldn’t place it. Then he laughed and his blood froze. It looked just like Danny. His thoughts drifted to the Irishman’s comments. Was this the resurrection and the second coming?

He sat in a panic and thought about telling the police so they could arrest him. What if it wasn’t? What if it was a family member; an uncle or cousin he had never met? It was possible of course, and there would be facial similarities. He glanced up for another study but the man was gone. Perhaps he had imagined it? Shaun on the stand took his thoughts away as he could say things that could really change the outcome, and he was speaking for the first time.

His testimony was brief, and he confidently lied to deny any affair and took the full blame. Sam was surprised that he didn’t expose him for what he was. Perhaps it was the lack of evidence, or some sort of loyalty among thieves. Or more likely he wanted the revenge for himself.

And it was over for now. Sam slumped back into his chair as the day was over. The trial would continue, but his part in the drama was done and he was sent back to the hotel. His armed guard was waiting for him as he left.

“I’ve been re-assigned; your armed protection has been withdrawn. One of our units will still be with you to ensure you stay on stand-by for the court.”

Sam nodded. He had followed Seamus’ orders, so hoped his actions would have nullified any threat. The Policeman continued.

“You need to stay at the hotel for the duration of the trial though as you may be called again. Somehow I don’t think Kingman will let you go early to do you any favours after what you just did. After the trial finishes you will be free to return to York. We are escorting Shaun Williams up to Wakefield Prison to serve his time, so I’ll be heading up your way as it happens.”

Another week passed, idling past the hours while on stand-by. Sam tried to get permission to leave for the weekend for his side’s home game against 2nd placed Bradford. It was denied, and his side were hammered 4-0. Another week passed and another loss, this time 4-1 at Northampton. Sam wanted to be back at the helm, and so Gus and Jack wanted him back just as much.

Finally in the early stages of the following week the trial concluded and he requested to attend and he found himself back in the Courtroom. The weeks must have worn Kate down but she was dressed smarter and wore make-up and looked radiant once more. Sam guessed it was because she expected to be released and would face the press outside.

The judge entered and the attendee’s rose to greet them. After a quick summary he cleared Kate of all charges and Sam breathed a sigh of relief, while she deserved punishment, her kids didn’t. And of course she was innocent of these charges anyway. He watched her celebrate with her legal team but she didn’t look over.

Outside the court he watched her press conference on the steps.

“Justice has been done. I have been proven innocent of all charges against me, and I

Wish to thank my legal team who worked so hard to free me of the ridiculous accusations. These last few months have been hell as I am just glad it is over.”

“Kate, Kate! What now for you?”

“I will focus on getting my life back. I want my children back to me as soon as possible.”

“Are you going to reconcile with your husband now the rumours of an affair were put to bed?”

“I will be speaking to my legal team regarding a divorce and seeking financial support from the father of my children. I appreciate your understanding about giving myself and my family the space we deserve in this trying time and I’ll be shying from the limelight for a while. Please, no more comment at this time.”

And with that she was ushered into a waiting car and disappeared into view.

The next day Sam was on the train home and picked up a copy of the Sun. He didn’t know what he found worse, the back pages with his side bottom of the league by 4 points with just 2 games to go, or the front cover with the headline “Kate’s Hell – My story” and the 7 page pre-written account of her time in prison and court, complete with a topless picture of her in a judge’s wig and gown.

He stared at the league table for what seemed like an age. In his absence his side had slipped back into trouble and picked up 1 point from a possible 12. The last game of the season was against 22nd placed Port Vale so survival was in their control if they could win the next game and Vale and Accrington didn't pick up maximum points. All was not lost, but he really needed to work some magic to be a saviour. Cometh the hour, cometh the man.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Port Vale      |       | 44   | 11     | 15    | 20    | 53    | 61    | -8    | 48    | 
|________________________________________________________________________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Accrington     |       | 44   | 12     | 12    | 20    | 49    | 66    | -17   | 48    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |       | 44   | 13     | 5     | 26    | 44     | 69   | -25   | 44    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 

[mistahc]

Chapter 9

The harder the challenge, the greater the Glory. That was what Sam was telling the team in front of him. Low on morale and favourites for the drop, they needed luck and a bit of magic. They were playing away to Bristol Rovers and were trailing 1-0 at the break. If they didn't turn it around and win they were relegated,

"Lads, Accrington and Port Vale are both losing 1-0. We can do this. I need you to play like your football careers depend on it."

In truth relegation from the football league to the conference was not far wrong.

In the second half his side rained more shots towards goal but not on target.

"Aahhhhh, they're snatching at their chances Gus; they need to calm down a bit. I wish we registered as players to get out there and show them how it's done. What's the scores in the other games?"

"Port Vale are now 2-0 down, but Accrington have equalised."

Sam looked at his watch and more time passed. More groans of despair as more wayward shots hit the side netting. The forth official stood up and programmed the board for three extra minutes, and Sam jumped to his feet, with just 5 minutes to save the club from relegation he could only watch in anguish.

The clock hit 91 and Sam urged 19 year old centre-back Jack O'Connell up the pitch for a corner, the on-loan Blackburn star would not have to worry about playing in the conference the next season. Gus joined him in the technical area and commented that despite having everyone up there, no-one other than Jack was in the 6 yard box wanting it, just him and the mass of defenders. Kerr swung it in and young O'Connell leap like a salmon, his 5ft 11 frame out jumping the opposition and planted it into the net.

The pair went wild. It was one minute into injury time, and it seemed to give the team believe again. Sam motivated the troops and sent Gus to get the crowd going.

In the 3rd minute of injury time McDaid picked up a lose ball in his own half broke down the left in a 2 vs 5 situation. Seeing his strike partner Purcell with him he hit a high ball, which forced him to contest a header with the rightback, and directed it into the on rushing path of Henderson.

The clock was ticking as the attacking midfielder chested the ball and saw he was crowded with 3 defenders but in the area. Sam was animated on the touchline.

"Fecking HIT it Ian. Oh why didn't you hit it first time???"

Henderson was forced out wide with three defenders blocking his route to goal, so he stopped with the ball. Time stopped still, and after what seemed like an age he casually side-footed it through the defenders and towards the goal, and past the keeper.

Sam went mad and joined the scrum of players in the penalty box. They had scored two late, late goals to keep alive their slim chances of survival. The celebrated like they had won the league in the dressing room, and looked at the league table in hushed tones while they calculated the varying results needed for them to stay up.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Accrington     |       | 45   | 12     | 13    | 20    | 50    | 67    | -17   | 49    | 
|________________________________________________________________________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Port Vale      |       | 45   | 11     | 15    | 19    | 53    | 63    | -10   | 48    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |       | 45   | 14     | 5     | 26    | 46     | 70   | -24   | 47    | 
| -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 

In the following week they could think of nothing else, D-Day was coming.

Championship decider and Relegation battle goes into last day of the season

Fans of League 2 side York had all but given up hope as the clock hit 90 last week as they faced the disappointment of relegation squarely in the face. Their Saviour Sam Heywood had other ideas and waved his magic wand to conjure up two late goals and they now have a real hope of staying up. They must now beat Port Vale at home, and hope that Accrington Stanley fail to win at top of the table AFC Wimbledon, who are joint top with Bradford on 81 points. Both clubs have sealed promotion, but the championship trophy is up for grabs.

With the play-off places decided, all eyes will be on the top and bottom of the table this Saturday. Join us for live updates here.

York (24th) v Port Vale (23rd)

AFC Wimbledon (1st) v Accrington Stanley (22nd)

Bradford (2nd) vs Southend (8th)

Sam and Jack were having breakfast prior to the biggest game of the season. The Chairman looked at his manager, who was in charge for 16 games, winning 11, drawing 3 and losing 2. His 69% win rate was better in the season than Wenger, Mancini, Tito, Ferguson, Pellegrini and Mourinho. Yet they were the club propping up the English football league. And it hurt his pride.

"Reckon we can do it?"

"What?"

"Stay up Sam. Reckon we can avoid relegation."

"It's in our hands, we just need to win our game. The Dons want the title so they'll win. I'd be gutted if we don't."

"Aye lad, me too."

He looked at his watch and it was 9:36. The match kicked off at 3pm, but it wasn't the only event of the day; Helena and Susan were due to land after their month trip to the New York.

"What time does their plane land?"

"11:20am in Manchester. I'm sending the car over to get them after it drops us off to bring them to the ground for the match so we'll meet them there. Can't wait to see what Susan spent my money on."

"Why is she spending your money?"

"Eh? oh...... erm, Christmas bonus lad. Give it to all the staff who have been working for me in the year."

Sam rolled his eyes and they headed to the car.

"Alright Derek lad, let's get us to our fight with destiny."

Bootham Crescent was already a hub of activity when they arrived, with TV crew and staff around the stadium. It was going be a full house and being the last game of the season the majority of fancy dress, which added to the atmosphere. As they arrived two men dressed as Batman and Robin jogged up for an autograph, and Jack knew they'd enjoy the day judging by the smell of booze at 10am.

Sam went off to run the team through so light exercises, while Jack did a TV piece for local news. He waxed lyrically about his management team and playing squad, hiding the fact that he would sack the lot if they got relegated. He told the press that he had invited Robbie Williams down for free to support his side in the director's box, and was waiting for confirmation he would attend.

The time flew by and before Sam knew it he had them kitted up in the dressing room and ready for warm-ups. So he slung his boots on as well and lead the team out to the pitch and the full capacity crowd. Nearly 7900 were making the ground a party atmosphere, and they went onto the pitch among roars from a group all dressed as Leprechauns to celebrate the all-Irish striker pairing. Sam found it a bit distracting, as evidently did the players as a warm up shot flew past the goal and off the head of someone dressed as a Smurf to the cheers of the crowd.

The clock hit 2:45 so he gathered the team together for his pep talk.

"Here we go lads. Last game of the season. The fans may be partying but we aren't, we are fighting for our league survival. I want you to go out there and win it for the fans. Win it for that bloke dressed as Scooby Do, that man dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow, make the lot dressed as the Flintstones bed rock, do it for that whole bunch dressed as Romans because they can't afford to hire an outfit. Do it for the gang as Ninja Turtles, The girl dressed as a mermaid. More importantly do it for yourselves. This time next season you can either be a unit of league footballers, or a bunch of Conference nobodies. Now get out there and win! Let's go...... C'mon, we're going as a Conga line out to the pitch.... Do-do-do. Come on and do the Conga."

And off they went, out the changing room, past the tea lady, past Derek the driver, in front of the Sky Sports camera and off out onto the pitch, to very loud cheers from the capacity crowd.

The players ran out on to the pitch and took their positions, and Sam looked at the director's box for Helena, Susan and Jack. There was no sign of them and all he could see was a bloke who looked like Robbie Williams. He nipped back down the tunnel to find Derek.

"Oi Del boy, did you go to the airport?"

"Nah Sam, the new bloke Mick went instead. Apparently Jack reckons he drives better than me as he used to be a Taxi driver in New York whereas I am drive like an old man apparently. Shouldn't you be up on the bench, it's kicking off any second?"

Sam jogged up the steps and joined Gus and gave his mate a big hug, and turned and gave a massive double fist pump to the crowd and coaxed a big roar from them. Game on.

The game was played at a frantic pace, pausing only for beach-balls to be removed from the pitch. Both sides evidently wanted to win, and it was end to end stuff but profligacy ruled. The crowd cheered as early as the first minute at the news of an AFC Wimbledon opener, it was going to plan. Even Accrington's 12 minute leveller didn't dampen the mood and spirit.

In the 42nd Minute McDaid picked up a through ball from Henderson and ran to the by-line, cutting the ball dangerously across goal. The ever aware Purcell beat his marker to the ball and buried a left foot volley into the goal. The crowd erupted, it was a big step towards safety and the whole crowd knew it.

The goal meant York moved a place up the table, but in the relegation zone on Goal Difference. It was not lost on Sam that the 4-0 and 4-1 loss when he was in court made up that goal difference.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |  Pts  | GD   | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Accrington     |  50   | -17  | 
|_______________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |  50   | -23  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Port Vale      |  48   | -11  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 

The half time whistle blew and Sam headed down the tunnel to get his team talk ready. Jack was there.

"Have you seen Derek? I was wondering where the girls are."

"Oh he said the new guy was picking them up."

"What new guy?"

They looked at each other and ran to find Derek who confirmed what they feared.

"The new guy said you wanted him to go as he was the better driver. Said he was a taxi driver in New York, which I thought was odd as he was a paddy not a yank."

Sam stopped dead and looked at him.

"What was his name again?"

"Mick. No, something else Irish. Ummmm, Seamus? Yes, that's it."

Sam was gone before he finished saying the sentance, and Jack followed closely behind. Sam had retrieved his mobile from his office and was calling Helena. It was answered in a few rings.

"Top of the morning to ya."

"You ****, we had a deal. I did what you said, why are you doing this? Let them go!"

"I told you we had unfinished business. I have a game for you. It's called 'who do you want to save'. I've placed two bombs, one at the warehouse where your girl is and the other under one of the stands at the ground. But here's the kicker; I'll only tell you where one is. So which one do you want to know?"

"You're bluffing."

"You think, check the top drawer in your office."

Sam yanked the drawer open and gagged at the sight of a finger and blood. It seemed he wasn't bluffing.

"Okay, the address of the warehouse, give it to me."

"Oh Sammy boy, selfishly choosing your girl over thousands of people, top marks. I'll give you the address and you have roughly 70 minutes before both bombs go off, but call the police and both will be detonated instantly. Good luck."

Sam scribbled down the location and ran to the car, leaving Jack to sort out the stadium. The chairman stood there opened mouthed and pale, looking at the finger and the blood. Seconds later the phone buzzed again and a short video clip had be sent so Jack nervously played it. The dark imagine showed what looked to be Plasticine with a stop watch stuck to it, and the timer started at 69:59 and was reducing by the second. This was not in the script.

[BenArsenal]

Wow. Three months away but still as brilliant as ever. It's like you've never left.

Fantastic story. You've really got me hooked. Keep it up.

[mistahc]

Thanks Ben, glad you are still reading along. I took a break with the football over the summer. Hopefully get this finished off over the coming weeks.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 10

15:50 pm - 69 minutes to detonation

The enigmatic chairman of York City FC's mouth was moving like a goldfish but no words were coming out. After what seemed like an eternity he finally managed to press down the intercom and mumble.

"Susan love, get me the head of security........... Susan?"

Reality suddenly hit him and he realised that his secretary wasn't answering as she had been kidnapped and was being held hostage, in a location that his club manager had neglected to tell him before running off like James Bond.

His shock cleared and he composed himself enough to find the spare radio and call an emergency meeting of the key staff.

He told them everything, but they laughed at him and smelt his breath. Until he pulled out the lonely severed finger. The comments over-lapped excitedly and the noise was over-bearing.

"The FA won't let us delay kick-off, it has to run the same time as the other games." "Forget what he said, call the Police man!" "Is that real? Is this some kind of joke?" "I really shouldn't be here." "We can't postpone, that killed us financially last time, it's probably another hoax Jack."

"Shut up all of you and let me think. Right, get everyone we can searching the stands for any sign of a bomb, the minute we find anything, you get everyone out."

He sent them on his way and looked out at the half-time pitch and the sell-out crowd enjoying their pies and party atmosphere. He thought of the team in the dressing room wondering where their manager was, getting an impromptu team-talk from the assistant manager. He thought of Susan and Helena, one of them missing a finger. It horrified him to think of which one he wanted it to be. Checking his watch he knew time was running out so he picked up the phone and found himself trying to convince the Police that there definitely was a bomb this time, and they need to send everyone as quietly as possible.

"I'm sending you DC Blake and his unit from the serious crime squad, the file says he is in charge of this case and he's nearby. Please don't panic Mr Collins."

Jack looked again at the crowd as they cheered the return of the players onto the pitch, and then finally at the green fire exit sign in the corridor. He thought of a Captain going down with the ship, and then of the Titanic, he thought of heroes and men, and imagined a heroic statue outside the ground in his honour. And promptly ran for the door.

16:01 - 58 minutes to detonation

"You what? Where? Tell me everything that you've been told."

DC Blake had taken a call and PC Dale Weston was silently seething that he had to turn down BBC Radio 5 live for the conversation. It was bad enough he had to go and pick up a prisoner from London to escort to Wakefield Prison on match day, and now he wasn't even able to hear what was going on during the matches. He turned the sound up ever so slightly as the action went to Kingsmeadow for the news of a goal.

"Yeeessssss, get in. You beauty!"

The DC from London shot daggers at him as he put his finger in his ear to drown him out. The youngster didn't mind, his boyhood team were a step closer to safety so he didn't care what he said. He was from a different Police force, and only hitched a ride unofficially anyway so couldn't report.

He started singing along to himself to the tune of Jay-Z's New York to honour his team, when the radio jumped back to ground for more breath-taking news.

"...... From kick off Accrington hit straight back and attacked like their life depended on it, the shot came in but cannoned off the bar, and the Dons countered and it's now 3-1. Unbelievable scenes. As it stands AFC Wimbledon will be Champions, and Stanley will be relegated."

The van swerved as he double-fist pumped the air and silently roared. He wished he was at the ground, even on duty, so he could celebrate with his fellow fans. He grabbed the wheel and tried to look sombre as his passenger finished his call and expected a rollicking. Instead he got some unexpected and quite welcome orders.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |  Pts  | GD   | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |  50   | -23  | 
|_______________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Accrington      |  49  | -19  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Port Vale      |  48   | -11  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 

16:05 - 54 minutes to detonation

News on the goals had filtered to the York fans, and they were singing and dancing with joy. Three man in blue morph suits had circled a steward and were dancing round him as he tried to find their pockets to search them. Getting annoyed, he pushed past them and went to speak to the security manager.

"Boss, those lads don't seem to have anything but a banana each. I can't see anything with these fans jumping up and down, what do we do?"

"Keep looking. Jack's not responding to the radio so I have no idea if we are evacuating or not. Check any bags that you see and tell the supporters we are doing a random alcohol search."

He turned to walk off and was grabbed in a hug by someone dressed as Chewbacca from Star Wars, the sound of his celebration sounding identical to the character.

16:26 - 33 minutes to detonation

The police van drove into the ground and found the only empty space. PC Weston smiled as he saw the bold name-tag on the wall in-front of him staring back.

"Look Guv, we've got the Chairman's car-parking space. Where is he then, thought we were meeting him here?"

They both jumped at the big roar from the other-side of the wall and Dale knew it was either a goal for his side, or news of another AFC Wimbledon goal. He ran inside excitedly, and was delighted to discover it was both.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |  Pts  | GD   | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |  50   | -22  | 
|_______________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Accrington      |  49  | -20  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Port Vale      |  48   | -12  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 

16:29 - 30 minutes to detonation

Across town the Sat Nav confirmed it had reached it's destination and Sam got out cautiously. He rubbed the sweat from his forehead and swallowed hard in a bid to calm him nerves, and his bum audibly squeaked. Some things were a matter of life and death, and something's were much more important than that; Accrington had scored two goals in 2 minutes to make it 4-3 and Port Vale had pulled one back to make it 2-1. Another goal for either team would see his side slip back into the relegation spot, and he couldn't bear the tension. He was actually glad he wasn't there.

He looked at his watch and it had taken him 40ish minutes to get across town, plenty of time to spare. He silently opened the door and he peered inside to the darkness. He welcomed it as he tip-toed in, crouching low to acclimatise his eyes to the dinginess of the room to look for danger. Natural light was streaming through the sky-light, and it didn't take long to scout out the room. It was sparse. Some dumped clothes and some paint in the middle, a door at the side, some big boxes in the corner.

Sam questioned if he was in the right place, the bright red paint suggested it belonged to a decorator of some sorts. His heart skipped a beat as his recollection of the colour of fresh blood. Suddenly it was clear, it wasn't a pile of clothes but the curves of a slumped body, the arch of the back obscuring the head and face. At least it hoped it still had a head.

Forgiving stealth for passion he ran over towards the limp and lifeless shape and sunk to his knee's on seeing the heavily bloodied face. In that moment he didn't notice the muscular figure sneaking up behind him and the blow connected before he knew what hit him. Consciousness was fading fast as he fell to the floor and as he looked back all he could see was a blurred silhouette leaning over him, the laugh unmistakable.

Before he passed out he could mutter just a single word........ "Danny?"

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |  Pts  | GD   | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |  50   | -23  | 
|_______________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Accrington      |  49  | -18  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Port Vale      |  48   | -11  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 

[mistahc]

Chapter 11

16:31 pm - 28 minutes to detonation

DC Blake checked his watch. They had been on site for 5 minutes now, but the bomb threat was apparently made roughly 35 minutes ago with a 60 minute warning. The problem was neither man who heard was around to get more details. He looked at his scribbled notes in his pad for the limited information he had got second hand.

Who? Seamus Doherty - Known terrorist

Where? Bomb in ground (again)

Why? Unknown

Approx 8000 fans

Severed finger

Action point - Be discreet

He had 25 minutes maximum to find and defuse the bomb, if there was one, or get everyone out immediately if he felt there was a threat. The emphasis was on him and the orders were clear; get there as soon as he could and control the situation. He was in charge and responsible for all decisions made, including any evacuation decisions. He chuckled dryly to himself; arresting Shaun Williams got his promotion, but it was evident they were happy for him to be the scapegoat in this lose/lose situation and take it all away again.

The previous bomb threat and subsequent evacuation caused the local Police force all sorts of embarrassment as it was beamed around the world. They obviously weren't keen to do it again. His orders were to be discreet as apparently any repeat of a media-circus would result in early detonation. He read that as the blood would be on his hands.

Five minutes were wasted as he finally found the Head of Security to get a debrief, which was lucky as the dancing fancy-dressed buffoons in front of him were beginning to grate on him and he was close to losing his cool. While he got to the serious business he sent his local assistance to check on the prisoner in the van. Not that he thought he'd escape, just as the young PC seemed more interested in the football on the pitch so he wanted to assert his authority.

"What have you found so far?"

"Nothing. No sign of any bomb."

"Where have you checked?"

"Everywhere."

"Good, we can all go home then."

"Really?"

"No, don't be stupid. If you were a terrorist where would you put a bomb?"

"I wouldn't, I'm not homicidal."

The Policeman quietly seethed at the further test on his patience.

"Where is the Chairman, a Mr Collins?"

"No idea. He's not answering his radio?"

"How much do you get paid?"

"Excuse me, that's none of your business!"

"Well whatever it is it's too much. Get all your people here immediately and I am taking over."

The Head of Security stammered in response then reluctantly ordered his entire team to report to the main stand.

"I don't agree you should take the stewards away from crowd control. Their job is protect the fans from each other."

As a mass of fluorescent jackets joined in a line en route to their location, DC Blake looked at the crowd dancing away. Even the away fans seemed to be enjoying themselves, so he just rolled his eyes in return. He had lives to save, and had near 20 minutes to do it. He turned to the stadium expert to set his time-frames.

"How long would it take to evacuate this whole stadium to a safe distance?"

"I.....I....I..... don't know. 10-15 minutes?"

His patience was wearing thin.

"How long did it take LAST time?"

"About 10-15 minutes?"

His was really beginning to get frustrated now, but the stewards all arrived before he boiled over.

"Right you lot. Listen up you lot. It may be the last game of the season but we are running a drill today to help you pass an NVQ Level 1 in Public safety. On my orders we search the area for anything suspicious, and if you find anything you call it in straight away. I've placed a realistic looking bomb on the premises so that's what you are looking for. First one to find it win's £50, and we keep an ear on our radio's. If it's found I will utter the evacuation order, you get everyone out as quickly as possible. If you get everyone out in 5 minutes the boss here is buying the drink all night. Understand?"

The Head of Security gulped at the prospect of putting his hand in his pocket. A few of assorted plebs nodded, most looked gormless. But they sloped off to follow the direction; £50 was double their daily wage and with the up-coming summer break they at least seemed enthusiastic to earn the extra cash.

A roar from the crowd made him jump and the gathered masses celebrated wildly. News of a goal for AFC Wimbledon to put them 5-3 up further strengthened York's chances of survival. If only the fans own chances had the same good odds.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |  Pts  | GD   | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |  50   | -23  | 
|_______________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Accrington      |  49  | -19  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Port Vale      |  48   | -11  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 

16:38 - 21 minutes to detonation

Sam stirred, seemingly awoken by the cheers across the City of York. He opened his eyes and tried to stand but was held in place and once again he found himself bound to chair. He focused on the body and breathed a sigh on relief as the Playboy Bunny tattoo confirmed it was Susan and not Helena, and felt instant guilt at the joy someone was dead. Full recollection returned and he tensed as he tried to break free.

"Chill out Sam, you don't want to hurt yourself."

The imposing frame of Danny Williams stepped into view, brandishing a knife and smiling manically as he continued his menacing recital.

"You have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment. Every day in hiding I've dreamed of carving you up."

"I thought the Colombian's got you?"

"They tried. A few of them came to my door, but lucky me I was in the toilet and heard them making a racket, and that gave me the element of surprise to shoot first. So you did set me up then? Good, they will make this more pleasurable."

The captive's body broke into an eruption of seizures and his skin burnt as the ropes tightened. The knife was searing at his cheek as it carved deep, and he felt the blood gush and drip off his chin. In his pain he screamed her name.

"HELENA!!!"

"How sweet you think of her, but she can't hear you pal. She's been keeping me entertained while we've waited for you. And once I finish cutting you apart piece by piece, she'll come with me. I hope you live longer than that gobby bitch down there, she did my head in. What a mouth on her. What a waste."

Sam rolled his head in acceptance of his fate, but was determined not to give his old friend any satisfaction as he saw him choosing where he'd cut him next. He stared back with a glazed expression but was met with wild eyes.

"There was never a bomb was there?"

Danny threw his head back dramatically and gave a laugh worthy of a Bond Villain, and grinned like a demented madman and he plunged his knife deep into flesh.

16:45 - 14 minutes to detonation

DC Blake looked at his watch for the millionth time. The timer was counting down and was dangerously close to the 10 minute mark. This was the last-gasp time he had hoped the match would be over and he could get everyone out without too much media attention. The time to find the device was running out.

Suddenly the radio crackled into life with a suspicious package reported, so he ran to the location at speed. En route he started cursing PC Weston who had not returned and was clearly watching the football, and he looked forward to putting a boot up his behind as soon as he had the chance. Now he was a man on a mission, and every second counted.

[mistahc]

Chapter 12

16:45 - 14 minutes to detonation

"York are playing down the seconds, the 4th assistant has signaled an extra 2 minutes and there is a party atmosphere here. The players are coolly playing keep ball. Cheers in the home stands here, tears at the away end as it looks like York are staying up and Port Vale are going down with Accrington."

Jack Collins was sat in his car a safe distance from the stadium allowing the wave of relief and ecstasy of his clubs near certain safety wash over him. As the news digested he started to sing loudly to "hit the road Jack" and chuckled at the irony of the song as he was running away from the danger. Thoughts of a hoax filled his brain, and a tinge of sadness seeped through him that he was missing the big party. Filled with false confidence he turned the car around and headed back safe in the knowledge that no sane man would actually kill all those people. He convinced himself that the short video clip he saw could have been from anything and didn't even look real. But perhaps he could still be the hero if he went back and found it, after all he knew the club like no other.

16:46 - 13 minutes to detonation

Sam was watching the gruesome scene beneath him. Danny expressed another of his signature manic laughs as he continued maiming the lifeless body in front of him. The madman seemed intent on giving a verbal commentary on his actions, telling his victim of his intention to be known as the Butcher.

"I reckon it will strike fear into my enemies y'know. Like that fella in Gangs of New York. What do you think Sam? Sam? Have you passed out on me again?"

He turned to the table and put down the knife, and picked up a big bottle of a clear liquid. On his return to his work he momentarily balked at the reality of his slaughter and at the amount of blood. Composing himself he emptied the contents fully over the slumped form as the fluid covered every inch, soaking into every open wound and pore.

Sam arose from the darkness to an horrific and blood-curdling scream emanating from his own mouth, the pungent smell of gasoline filled his nostrils and his body seared with intense pain as it stung at his open wounds. He focused on his old foe who was smiling and fiddling with something in his hands, so he stared at him with dead eyes trying to mask the pain to devoid him of the satisfaction.

"Back with me? Good. Does it feel like your body is on fire?"

Sam's grimace confirmed what he refused to admit. He struggled to continue his stony gaze until his eyes were drawn to a flash of gold in the object in his hands. His body stiffened when he saw the hand motion to flick the Zippo and bring up a flame, and stared at it's light hypnotically.

Danny sniggered again when he saw the hint of recognition, and then gleefully absorbed the look of fear and panic as it spread over him. He loved the feeling of power and greedily lapped it up, drawing strength as he exerted and flexed his authority. Feeling the scene reaching a dramatic conclusion he wanted to milk this moment for later recollection and to build his myth and new persona of the Butcher.

"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. I've loved people thinking I was dead. I'm like Keyser Söze now, and you are my Hungarian mob. I'm going to set you on fire and watch you die. Then I am going to kill your family and everyone you love. I am going to torture every person who hold dear bar that **** of yours, who I am going to keep as my personal play thing. Every day I will remind her of my hatred for the pair of you for what you did to me in America; condemning me to my death. Well my friend, I have risen from the ashes of that moment and the legend has been born. No-one knows I am alive, but my actions will be spoken of in hushed terms at the gambling dens of the world. My new nickname will live in infamy and I'll be the man criminals tell their kids about. I'll be......"

Sam was looking beyond him now and staring into the distance.

"Now that's just rude. I was talking to you and you seem to be dying on me. I haven't finished telling you what's going to happen yet, perhaps you need some more encouragement to listen to me?"

Danny began to turn on his feet to get his knife but Sam refocused his gaze.

"Danny?"

"what?"

"You talk too much. You need to leave while you can. Get out. Run away. Be free, be happy, go and start a new life somewhere. Leave me here."

"Eh? You what pal? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"One?"

"Then you've passed the vision test. Then you must see me being the one standing up with the lighter, on the verge of setting you on fire, while you sit tied up in a chair at my mercy."

"I mean it. Leave! And get as far away from here as possible. Please, I'm begging you."

Danny leaned forward menacingly and Sam could smell the remains of his morning coffee on his breath. That wasn't a concern, but the lighter in his hand mere inches from his petrol soaked body was. Sam's tone became more pleading as he continued his begging.

"Please. I'm finished here and going to die anyway, just leave while you can. I love you, and I always will so you must leave."

Danny was taken aback by the declaration and jerked his head back in disgust.

"Errr, you bloody poofter. No wonder your wife was banging my brother."

Sam's eyes looked deep and intent as they close and he mumbled something incoherently. Danny decided it must be his death throes, and wanted to be the instigator of his final moments so moved closer with the lighter, delighting in the final moments of his victim. He leaned forward with his arm-outstretched and jumped slightly when Sam's eyes opened again and repeated his indistinct utterance. He was forced to lean closer, hoping to pick up his final words to repeat in his regaling of the murder.

"I said, she's behind you."

Danny looked puzzled, then felt a sharp pain in his neck and clamped his hands to the sticky wetness. Looking down he was confused at the sight of blood pouring onto his shirt, and involuntarily slumped to his knees. A foot came out and flicked his lighter across the floor and he followed the leg up to it's owner. He struggled to comprehend the vision of Helena holding his bloody knife defiantly.

"How...?"

"You might have drugged me, but screams like that would wake the dead."

Sam was too near death to be insulted. She looked at the carnage, at the body of her friend and at the mess left of her boyfriend slumped in his bonds. And with the images burning their unwanted place in her memories, she let out a murderous scream and repeatedly thrust the weapon into the tormentors body.

After the blood-lust had passed she dropped the knife and flung her arms around Sam and wept softly as she held him close. The warehouse was as quiet as a tomb, which was quite fitting as Danny's lifeless eyes stared blankly at the reunited couple. His face still contorted in shock.

"Helena, I have a vision test for you. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Ummm, none? You are tied to a chair?"

"Exactly, for the love of God cut me loose and get me to a bloody hospital!"

16:47 - 12 minutes to detonation

DC Blake slid on the concrete floor as he turned the corner too sharply and finally made his destination, just 2 minutes short of his 10 minute evacuation deadline. On his run he knew time was of the essence to diffuse it or get everyone out ASAP. At least finding a device would warrant the evacuation.

"Right, where's this bomb?"

The young steward proudly held up the round silver cylindrical suspicious object he had found, and looked confused as the Policeman threw it to the ground in anger.

"That's a ****ing thermos flask you imbecile!"

Suddenly the whole ground erupted in cheer. The ref had blown his whistle and the game was over; York City were safe.

"Right, the game is over, get everyone out ASAP. You have ten minutes. Move, move, move."

"Ummmm, boss? When do I get my £50?"

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           |  Pts  | GD   | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | [b]YORK[/b]           |  50   | -23  | 
|_______________________________________________|

| 23rd  |       | Accrington      |  49  | -19  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Port Vale      |  48   | -11  | 
| ----------------------------------------------| 

[mistahc]

Chapter 13

16:47 - 12 minutes to detonation

Jack pulled into the car park as he heard the roar and triumphantly punched the air in joy, sensing an over-whelming eagerness to join the supporters in their celebrations. Unusually there was no home-side early-leavers trying to beat the traffic, so all he saw were despondent Port Vale fans trudging out to make the long journey home, the kids faces streaked with tears. Their league status was gone, and who knew when the club would return.

As he went to park in his space he was annoyed to see an armoured Police Van was stationed there, and as the policeman got out the back he had an angry word.

"Ey up, what are you doing in my space? Don't you know who I am ?"

The cooper shrugged at him and walked off rudely. If he didn't want to be inside the ground so much he would have given him a piece of his mind, but he just parked outside the front entrance instead. The JC1 number plate was well known to the staff so it was evidently his. While the common assumption was JC was for Jack Collins, it actually stood for Jesus Christ for the self-styled saviour of York City.

He ran in through the foyer and headed straight for the pitch. As expected the players and half the stands were on the pitch celebrating, so he forced his way through the crowd and took the plaudits and pats on the back with aplomb. Within minutes he was in the centre with the players and was hugging his conquering heroes. He turned as someone was tugging on his arm and it was Gus, his Argentinian assistant manager.

"Jack, where the hell is Sam?"

Jack's eyes widen as the full recollection of the days events suddenly unfolded in his memory and took their deserved status on centre-stage, and he looked at his watch aghast.

"We need to get everyone out of here NOW."

16:48 - 11 minutes to detonation

DC Blake hit the fire alarm and co-ordinated the evacuation. He ran into the arena and stopped in his tracks at his worst nightmare; a full-scale pitch invasion was in progress and despite the best efforts of the stewards they were easily bypassed by the surging masses determined to join in the moment.

The cheers and songs of the crowd were drowning out the sound of the alarm ringing on the concourse, and no-one seemed intent to follow the evacuation order mistaking it for an attempt to deny the fans a chance to celebrate on the pitch.

He had only one chance; get the players off the pitch and hope the fans will follow. He desperately plowed through the partying masses and headed for the centre circle.

16:52 - 7 minutes to detonation

DC Blake found himself alongside a fat man who seemed to be the only person who shared his panic. Between them they were trying to get people off the pitch but no-one was listening, not even the players. Finally as the celebrations died down slightly, they manged to get the players and a vast majority of the fans to head towards the exit and a designated safety zone.

Jack was pleading with a bunch of youths to leave when someone knocked him over. At least that was what he thought happened.

The blast tore out of the stand and the shock waves had sent him tumbling over.

The ringing in his ear was intense and he stared at the cloudless sky above him. Finally after a few minutes the noise reduced and his hearing honed in on the background scenes that had begun to unfold. Somewhere he could hear screams, and he turned his head heavily to the side. One of the teenagers was next to him, a piece of metal shrapnel protruding from his eye. He had come to the fancy dress day as the Fonz but was leaving as the Terminator. He would not be back.

He tried to get up but couldn't make his body move, so could only look at the horrific scenes around him. He saw people with limbs missing, and the panic around him. Advertising boards were used as stretchers for the wounded, and he felt comfort watching the senior policeman directing things. He felt calm despite the horror as his brain released a multitude of endorphins to help him cope with the terror he was witnessing. He felt blood trickling down his own face and his eyes became unfocused as he lost consciousness. His watch had stopped with the blast. It was stuck on 16:59, at time the city of York would never forget.

[mistahc]

Chapter 14

Helena's heels clicked as she walked down the hospital corridor, echoing in the walls that were haunted by pain, suffering and death. The smell of the strong disinfectant nauseated her, and she strongly kept her gaze on her path and not on the injured and maimed left in her wake. A flash of blue caught her eye and a man with a painted face with a wrapped head-wound was in his path. He looked more like a smurf than ever with the bandages, and the blood seeping through would soon turn him into Papa Smurf.

Helena kept her steely composure as she continued on her route to the private room. She stood outside for a few minutes to brace herself, the armed guard outside eyeing her suspiciously as she paused. She jumped as a nurse came out with bloodied bandages and as she was seen by a smiling Gus, she entered the room.

Inside Sam and Jack were the only occupants, lying in parallel beds next to each other, both connected to drips and machinery. Gus excused himself and told her he'd be outside, and Jack couldn't offer the same courtesy as he was missing part of his right leg and as it was strapped up he was immobile.

Helena walked over to Sam's bedside and held his hand as she stood by him, tears streaming down her face as she gazed over his heavily scarred body. Her body shook as she tried to contain her emotions, repeating to herself that she must stray strong for him.

His eyes opened at her touch and he forced a crooked smile due to the deep lacerations on his face, and seemed to read her thoughts.

"The plastic surgeon says in a month they will be a lot less noticeable."

Helena forced a smile back. But they would still be there and a forever reminder of the horrors they had faced. She looked away and her eyes fell on the front page of the days newspaper.

MASSACRE IN BOOTHAM

83 dead and hundreds wounded in shocking and cowardly bomb attack by foreign extremists. Get them out of our country now and close our borders to everyone different to us. Read more reactionist tripe on pages 4-11.

"Why do you read this rubbish?"

"A visiting fan left it here. Stop changing the subject. I can see on your face I must look like a packet of Salami. They won't give me a mirror, have you got one?"

"Relax, I'll still love you. And when you get released we'll get you out of here and spend some quality time together."

She didn't mean it to be any sort of sexual reference, but a male brain doesn't need much to get it thinking about sex and he smiled and stroked her hand.

"Get a room you two."

"Jack, I thought you were asleep?"

"How could I with all the racket in here. Pass me that paper love, let's have a read."

The door suddenly opened and in walked DC Blake, with the face of a man who had witnessed unspeakable horrors.

"Is this a good time?"

He didn't wait for a response and came in regardless. If he was affected by the extent of the injuries in front of him he didn't show it.

Helena and Sam clasped hands tightly; they had taken a chance and told him exactly what had happened at the warehouse and instantly regretted it. Perhaps they should have wiped the knife clean of fingerprints and played the innocent card. Jack tentatively probed for the reason for the visit.

"What you doing here Detective?"

Blake sighed.

"Not sure if I am anymore, I'm on suspension while I am investigated for my actions at the ground and for the death of my prisoner. Anyway, I thought I owed it to you all to tell you what I do know. You've been through a lot and I think it's only right to tell you something relevant for you."

He took a seat and addressed Sam.

"You should know my prisoner was Shaun Williams. The van was badly damaged as it was very near the massive explosion but being armoured wasn't completed wiped out. They found the body in the back of the vehicle badly burnt still hand-cuffed to the seats, so the dental records confirmation are a formality."

Helena choked with tears at the news but Sam stayed composed in his response.

"And Seamus?"

Blake looked solemn.

"No sign I'm afraid. He's top of Interpol's wanted list so won't be long before the net closes in on him. I would have loved to have been there when he's caught. The young PC I was with is among the missing, presumed dead, so I have a score to settle."

"So both Williams' brothers are dead. What about Danny's death?"

Helena tightened her grip as her body tensed. Blake coughed.

"After Danny's suicide......"

"Suicide?"

"Yes, he took his own life at his remorse for killing Susan Baker. He slit his own throat while Sam here was passed out and Helena was unconscious and drugged in the back room, then repeatedly stabbed himself to finish the job. Poor Helena found the scene after waking up after the Ketamine she was given wore off. Hope you remember those details when you give your statement later the pair of you?"

[mistahc]

won't take all that chapter in one go?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 14 cont...

He smiled at the stunned pair who remained silent as Jack burst into tears at the thought of his beloved secretary lying dead on a cold damp warehouse floor.

"Did she suffer Detective?"

Blake looked to correct him, but instead continued with the lie.

"The blood work showed she also was drugged so would have been unconscious and not felt a thing."

Sam pulled Helena close and kissed her forehead lovingly. They shared a salty embrace and hugged tightly, Sam ignoring the pressure on his wounds to focus on comforting her. Jack was still full of questions.

"But why Detective? Why did he bomb my club?"

"We are....." He corrected himself, the continuation of the incorrect addressing lulling him to believe he was still running the case. "......Investigations are being made to complete that line of inquiry Mr Collins. The early assumptions are that it was a diversionary tactic of some sort, presumably to stop you sending the police to Danny's location to interupt his murder spree. It was of course a bizarre twist of fate that I would arrive and take his brother to the ground, ultimately killing him."

"Where was the bomb in the end?"

"It was cleverly placed outside the ground, we assume in a vehicle. We of course searched every inch of the stadium, which explains why we didn't find it. Currently CCTV is being monitored to see which vehicles Seamus had access to."

Helena suddenly interjected.

"Oh he was driving Jack's car to pick us up from the airport. He picked us up and we thought he was the chauffeur. The last thing I truly remember was drinking champagne before I got sleepy, but I am sure we got moved to another vehicle as I have vague recollections of the voices of both Danny and Seamus as they carried me."

No-one saw the expression Jack's face of pure dread. He was white as a sheet. Could it be that he had taken the bomb away from the ground, only to bring the danger right back again? He looked at his hands and all he could see was the blood of the innocent staining them. He thought of the horrors he had seen and his part in it, and it physically sickened him.

"It's certainly worth checking so I'll pass it to my superiors, thank you. Anyway, I'll leave you to your recovery. Sam, Helena, someone is coming to take your statement when you are up to it so please remember the correct version of events. You've been through a lot at his hands and I am glad it is finally over for you."

He bid farewell and left. Jack continued to be silent and staring into space, so Sam and Helena left him to his thoughts. For them it seemed that soon their ordeal would finally be over. They had no idea why the Detective chose to cover for Helena, but could only assume that her repeated attempts to remove the life from the madman might have damaged her claims at self-defence.

They lay deep in thought for a while then Sam turned to Jack.

"When are the next seasons fixtures due out?"

The End

[mistahc]

Epilogue

1 month later

The technician was rushing hurriedly through the corridor and knocked on his superiors door.

"Guv, I've got something you need to hear."

"What is it?"

"You know we've been struggling to identify the dental's for Shaun Williams? well I'll finally got a match. They belong to PC Dale Weston!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam had absentmindedly rearranged the salt and pepper shakers and condiments into a defensive formation with the ketchup leading the line upfront. He looked up and saw Helena walking back from the bathroom and hastily put them back like a kid caught playing with his toys when he was meant to be doing homework. As she passed a man reading a paper the headline screamed at him in Spanish terroristas en carrera, but as he no hablas espanol it meant nothing, and the pictures of Seamus Doherty and Shaun Williams were too small to shine like a beacon for the attention that it deserved.

His eyes were firmly on his new wife walking towards him, and he eyed her growing cleavage greedily as she slid back opposite him.

"The Doctor's were right, those scars have healed quite well."

"Are you feeling better?"

"They call it morning sickness but it seems to be constant."

He smiled as he cupped her hands. Finally he was going to be a father, and he couldn't be happier.

[chesterfan2]

Utterly brilliant, Mistahc, the newspaper clipping was a masterstroke, wonderfully paced for me, and a happy ending, what more could we want?

[mistahc]

Thanks Chesterfantu. It honestly means a lot to know people enjoy the writing.

What more could you want? How about the last in the Trilogy? Set in Oz? That's a strong possibility if there is any demand.

[BenArsenal]

Holy ****.

That was quite an ending. I didn't see that coming.

[FiftyBeforeThirty]

Well sir, I bow before you. I honestly cannot find words to describe this work of brilliance. Congratulations.