I See You, Jack! Chapter 19
Created | Updated May 25, 2024
I See You, Jack!
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Chapter 19
Riding could wait no longer. Pulling off the M62 into Burtonwood Services, he stopped at the far end of the car park, as far away from the other vehicles as possible.
He took the pocket watch from his glove box, grimacing slightly as he wiped the sticky redness from its face.
You'll have to get used to blood soon enough!
James shook off the thought, keen to inspect the device, ensure it had the same mechanism as his. He nodded to himself, pleased with the familiarity.
James set the dials, looking round the floodlit lot before getting out of the old Ford and depressing the button.
The scene flickered momentarily.
The service station was no longer there, instead, the vast Base Air Depot 1; instead of the huge golden arches over the fast food court, forty-eight stars were flying proudly, as airmen busied themselves preparing the Superfortress B29s.
Riding briefly considered exploring the base. Study life at the largest USAAF airfield in war-torn Europe. But the sound of barking dogs and the shouts from RAF military police quickly changed his mind. The thought of being arrested (or shot!) as a suspected Nazi spy made him shudder.
As the snarling dogs ran into view, adrenaline kicked in: fight or flight, and Riding stupidly flew!
Racing towards a stack of crates, the Alsatians gaining on him, Riding's coat snagged on rough planks, spinning him around. Losing his balance, he hit the floor hard.
The wind was knocked out of him. He gasped as the pocket watch slipped out of his hands, bouncing along the floor to disappear beneath the stacked military equipment.
Around the corner bounded two of the big canines, skidding on the damp concrete, teeth bared, hackles raised as they sighted their prey.
Riding desperately flung himself towards the crates, hand jamming into the gap, fingers closing around metal as teeth snapped at his legs.
Riding pressed the watch, and let out a huge sigh of relief, as he found himself sprawled across the tarmac at the Warrington Services.
He took several minutes to compose himself, checked there was no damage to the watch, and no serious damage to himself other than grazed palms and a bloody knee.
Scolding himself for being so stupid, but satisfied the watch was working, he opened the boot. Riding checked his outfit was in order, and unwrapped the package that had arrived that day.
The Kibitz Solingen straight razor caught the light as he admired the feel of it in his hand. He smiled, glad he hadn't taken the German-made razor back with him to the air force base. Imagine trying to explain that!
Satisfied with his preparations, Riding started up the Ford and headed for the red-light district of Liverpool.
