Nick glared defiantly at his tormentor.
‘But my friends in the Animal Freedom Army found out some interesting facts about Cobb Cleanse sink and worktop cleaner. Back in 2003, a three-year-old girl in Alabama drank some Cobb Cleanse sink and worktop cleaner. Now, it goes without saying that this made her very, very, sick.
‘Sadly, the little girl was only able to drink from the bottle because of a batch of faulty safety caps and her parents sued your company, Cobb Cleanse Inc, for sixty-six
million
dollars. Now, Mr Cobb, perhaps you could tell our audience what you did when you found out that you were being sued?’
Cobb didn’t answer, so Viv leaned forward in his chair and faced him off. ‘Cobby, I know you’re used to going on chat shows and having it all your own way. But it’s exceedingly boring if you don’t answer our questions and if you’re boring on Liberation TV, you might find that we decide to liven things up by shooting you.’
‘You’re a toffee-nosed little twerp,’ Cobb snarled. ‘Spoilt brats like you know nothing about the real world and to be honest, I’d sooner be shot than listen to any more of your left-wing tripe.’
The onslaught made Viv uncomfortable, but he was determined not to let Cobb get the better of him. ‘Well, Mr Cobb, hopefully the viewers at home will have a chance to see us shoot you a little later, but I’ll finish my story first.
‘You see, viewers, when Nick Cobb’s lawyers found out that the little girl’s parents were suing for all the damage to her digestive system, they decided to defend the case on the grounds that the amount of damage done by the Cobb Cleanse was being grossly exaggerated by her lawyers.
‘To prove this fact, Cobb Cleanse Inc paid Malarek Research’s US laboratory twenty-three thousand dollars to run an experiment. In the tests Nick Cobb commissioned, one hundred and eight rabbits were made to drink Cobb Cleanse sink and worktop cleaner. Once the cleaner was administered, the rabbits were left for three days while their insides slowly burned away. They weren’t even allowed a sip of water. At the end of three days, eighty-one rabbits had died from internal bleeding and the remainder were gassed. Their bodies were then cut up to examine the extent of the damage done by Cobb Cleanse.’
Jay cut to another graphic:
CRUELTY FACT N
o
2.
Since 1995 more than 80,000 animals have died in laboratory experiments carried out not for scientific purposes, but to provide evidence in lawsuits.
Viv shook his masked head grimly. ‘Do you know, Mr Cobb, I think that authorising those tests makes you an evil man. The Animal Freedom Army has brought you here today to avenge those one hundred and eight dead bunnies.
‘We’re going to put you in our cage and give you a nice refreshing drink of Cobb Cleanse sink and worktop cleaner. Then, we’re going to point our cameras at you and let all our viewers watch you suffer for twenty-four hours. Doesn’t that just sound absolutely yummy?’
CNN, ITN, BBC, NBC and even the business news channels showed the live feed of Nick Cobb being dragged across the set. James, Mark and Adelaide were squeezed together on a sofa in Whitley Bay, watching the story unfold.
‘
This is terrorism meets reality TV and the power of the web
,’ the commentator said. ‘
Appalling and yet compelling in a way that makes you utterly unable to look away from the screen
.’
James watched as Cobb was forced into the cage by Viv and two masked teenagers he’d met briefly the night before. Cobb’s neck was locked into a brace so that his head poked between the bars and the door was slammed shut.
‘
This is exactly how they did it with the bunnies, Cobby
,’ Viv explained. ‘
And I’d just like to emphasise that my colleagues and I have no medical training, just like the laboratory assistants at Malarek Research
.’
The cage door slammed as Viv was handed a pint glass and a bottle of Cobb Cleanse.
‘
Mmm
– pine fresh,’ Viv grinned, as he squeezed the viscous blue liquid into the glass. ‘Doesn’t that make your tummy growl when you look at it? Maybe the viewers at home can place bets on whether you’ll live or die? Or if you’re watching via our website, why not vote in our online poll?’
Cobb moaned desperately as Viv pinched his nostrils together to force him to breathe through his mouth, while one teenage assistant tried to prise his jaws apart and the other moved in with a feeding tube and funnel.
‘
Come on, Cobby Wobbly
,’ Viv said exuberantly. ‘
Be a good bunny and eat all your din dins
.’
The picture on the little TV blacked out for a second, before cutting to the face of a slightly startled newsreader. ‘
Well, it appears that our director has cut away from those deeply disturbing scenes. But we will continue to follow this rapidly unfolding story
.’
Mark flipped through all the news channels, but every news director in Britain and America had drawn the line at seeing a celebrity having a feeding tube forced down his throat.
Adelaide tutted. ‘We’re only showing a procedure that happens to thousands of lab animals every day.’
‘Can we get the Internet?’ James asked.
‘Not in this flat,’ Adelaide said. ‘There’s not even a telephone.’
James shrugged. ‘Does anyone fancy another cup of tea?’
‘Definitely,’ Adelaide grinned.
‘Count me in,’ Mark nodded. ‘Three sugars.’
James squeezed off the middle of the couch and wandered through to the kitchen. He filled up the kettle and tried to think as he watched it boil. He realised that he’d got too wrapped up in Liberation TV and hadn’t put any serious thought into his main task: finding a way of getting the information about Hummingbird Farm to Zara without endangering Kyle.
Nobody at the farm had been in contact since they’d arrived at the flat. James figured that they were all busy making the webcast and looking after their hostage – and besides, why would they need to contact three people sitting in a safe house watching TV?
As the kettle rumbled, James realised that a couple of factors were working in his favour. First, there was no landline in the house and because mobiles can be unreliable, the crew up at Hummingbird Farm probably wouldn’t be suspicious if they couldn’t get in touch with Mark or Adelaide. Second, Kyle was a top agent. He’d given James the location of the farm and would surely be taking steps to protect himself in the event that things went wrong.
By the time James had poured the water in the teapot and grabbed the cups, he’d decided to move on Mark and Adelaide. The biggest problem was their guns. He knew Mark’s gun was still zipped up in the bag of tennis equipment, which now sat beside the nest of tables in the living-room. This meant James couldn’t get hold of it, but Mark wouldn’t be able to get his hands on it quickly either.
Adelaide’s gun was trickier. James had no clue where it was, or even if she’d taken it out the back of the motorbike. He decided to deal with her first.
As the tea brewed, James searched through the kitchen drawers and found scissors and a ball of chunky nylon string. He gave it a good tug to make sure it was strong, before slicing off half a dozen two-metre lengths. He made each length into two loops and formed a noose at the top. Next, he grabbed the tea towel off its hook and soaked it under the tap, before wringing it out, folding it into quarters and leaving it on the countertop next to the string.
The living-room curtains were pulled to stop the afternoon sun bleaching out the TV picture. James strolled into the gloomy space and handed over the hot mugs.
‘Cheers, James,’ Adelaide said.
‘Anything happening?’ he asked.
Mark shook his head. ‘They’re not showing any live footage. Just old farts sitting in the studio speculating over what we’re gonna do next.’
‘Adelaide,’ James said, ‘I think I’ve got this rash on my head, from the hair dye or something. Would you mind having a look at it?’
‘Sure,’ Adelaide said, as she stood up.
James headed through to the kitchen.
‘Where are you going?’
‘It’s lighter in the kitchen,’ James explained.
Adelaide huffed reluctantly, but followed after him. ‘If your skin’s reacting to the hair dye, it’s probably easiest just to dive in the shower and wash it out.’
Adelaide was exactly the same height as James and he didn’t think she’d be difficult to take down. The tricky part was doing it without Mark overhearing.
‘Sit in the chair or something then,’ Adelaide said. ‘I can’t see your head from all the way up there.’
‘What happened to your gun, by the way?’ James asked. ‘Did you leave it in the bike?’
Adelaide looked surprised at the abrupt change in subject matter. ‘It’s here,’ she said, lifting up her shirt to reveal it tucked into the waistband of her sweat pants.
As soon as James saw the gun, he grabbed the sodden tea towel off the cabinet top. He snatched Adelaide’s wrist and twisted her arm up behind her back with one hand, while bundling her forward and clamping the wet cloth over her mouth with the other.
She ended up pressed against the wall with James holding her in an arm lock. A sharp backwards kick hit James in the knee, but it wasn’t enough to knock him back.
‘I can snap your arm like a twig,’ James whispered nastily, tightening the painful lock to make his point clear. ‘Open your mouth.’
As Adelaide opened up, James forced the cloth into her mouth until it was completely crammed. Once he was sure the cloth wasn’t coming out, he let go and pulled the gun out of Adelaide’s waistband.
‘Put your wrists together.’
James tucked the gun in the pocket of his shorts as he grabbed one of the loops of string off the countertop. He hooked a loop over each of Adelaide’s hands, before pulling the nooses tight and securing it with a constrictor knot. He glanced out into the corridor to make sure that Mark wasn’t on the move before whispering in Adelaide’s ear.
‘I won’t hurt you if you do what you’re told, OK?’
‘
Mfff
,’ Adelaide nodded.
‘Walk into the living-room with me, sit your arse in the armchair and
stay still
.’
James grabbed the remaining loops of string off the countertop before shoving Adelaide towards the door.
‘What the hell,’ Mark yelled, looking startled as he saw Adelaide with the soggy tea towel sticking out of her mouth. His eyes darted between James and the sports bag alongside his seat.
‘You won’t reach it in time,’ James said, gesturing with the gun and using the firm but slow voice he’d practised in training. ‘Take this and tie Adelaide’s ankles together.’
‘Listen James,’ Mark said. ‘I know you’re young and I guess seeing it all on TV has made you scared. But running away from us isn’t going to help. The best way to stay out of trouble is if everyone sticks to the plan.’
‘Thank you for your input,’ James said. ‘Now take the piece of string and tie Adelaide’s ankles together or I’ll shoot you.’
Mark put his arm up on the back of the couch and smiled confidently. ‘There’s no shame in being scared, James, but this is silly. None of us is going to get caught so long as we stick to the plan.’
The TV pundits were droning in the background, ‘
The police have asked us not to broadcast any live footage from the Animal Freedom Army webcast at this time, but we can tell you that Nick Cobb has had a tube forcibly inserted into his stomach and has been force fed approximately one pint of cleaning fluid. At this stage, we’re not clear how damaging the fluid will be, but our doctor here in the studio has indicated that the dosage could be fatal if he doesn’t receive medical treatment within two or three hours
…’
The words made James realise that he didn’t have time for a debate with Mark.
‘Fine,’ James yelled as he lunged forwards. ‘I’ve tried being nice.’
It’s extremely awkward to hit a person who is sitting on a low couch, especially if they’ve got gangly arms and legs in the way. James propped his knee on the sofa and swung the gun at Mark’s head. But the punch missed and Mark managed to get an arm around James’ back.
The badly aimed punch might have cost James against a powerful opponent like Viv, but Mark was scrawny and James managed to wriggle out of the clumsy hold and land a better punch with his empty hand.
It connected with the side of Mark’s head, and the follow-up loosened a couple of teeth as the gun smashed into his mouth. But Mark wasn’t unconscious and he struggled as James threaded loops over his hands and secured his arms behind his back.
‘Now look at the state of you,’ James said angrily. ‘And whose fault is it?’
James stood up and realised that his tennis shirt was spattered with blood. He found Mark’s phone stuck between two sofa cushions and waved the gun at his bound-up victims before heading out into the hallway.
‘I’ve been nice so far,’ James warned, ‘but if I hear so much as a squeak, I’m putting bullets through both your heads.’
James went out into the hallway. He flipped open the mobile and dialled Zara.
‘James, thank god. Are you safe?’
‘For now,’ James said, as he noticed beads of blood welling up on his knuckles. ‘I’m in some flat in Whitley Bay. Nick Cobb is being held at Hummingbird Farm near Rothbury and Kyle’s up there too.’
It was the vilest thing Kyle had ever seen. Nick Cobb threw up as the feeding tube came out of his throat and hadn’t stopped retching in the hour since. At first he’d brought up food, mixed with Cobb Cleanse, but now he was bringing up blood as the powerful cleaning solution burned its way through his digestive system.
Viv basked in front of the cameras. He poked a microphone between the bars, continually tormenting Cobb about the pain he was in; and even read out a recipe for rabbit pie from a Nick Cobb cookbook.
Cobb was defiant at first, but as the pain grew he swallowed his pride and begged for water.
‘You paid to make a hundred and eight rabbits suffer exactly like this,’ Viv taunted. ‘They didn’t get water and neither will you. The AFA wants
everyone
out there to know – farmers, scientists, supermarket executives, laboratory workers and shoppers – this is just the beginning. When the AFA gets you, we’re going to make you suffer in whatever way you made animals suffer.’