Red Vendetta: a thrilling chase, a hidden secret, an action-thriller you won't want to put down by Stewart Clyde

Author:Stewart Clyde [Clyde, Stewart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hunt Press
Published: 2021-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

PROVENCE, FRANCE

Hunt caught himself as he stumbled and managed to outrun the momentum.

“Come on!” Lambert yelled back at him. “The gendarmes are on the gate.”

The local paramilitaries were trying to get into the compound. They were after him, no doubt about it. How did they find him? Had to be a tip off. Hunt felt the panic set in at the back of his throat again. No rest. No escape. He needed to get out of there. He ran hard to catch-up to Lambert. His body ached and he was tired.

“I know a way out,” Lambert said in between breaths as they ran. They were headed for a forested part of the estate at the far end of the property. There was a high stone wall that ran around the entirety of the estate. Hunt knew if they climbed it they’d be spotted immediately. Lambert was leading them into a dead-end. He felt it was a trap.

“There’s no way out from here,” Hunt said.

“Trust me, come on. Hurry.”

As they ran up, Hunt saw the overhanging branches that threw shade over that part of the vineyard. They got out of the sun and into the cool darkness of the shade.

“Over there,” Lambert said and pointed at a pile of stones. They ran up and Hunt saw it was a well.

“It’s dry, climb down.”

Hunt peered over the edge. It was dark and cramped. He looked back over his shoulder at the gate. There was commotion, but he couldn’t make out what was going on.

“You must make yourself small, thin, like this,” Lambert said and raised his hands above his head like he was about to dive into a swimming pool. “Then use your legs and elbows to slow your fall. I will meet you at the bottom. You must hurry! If the gendarmes start to shoot, the others will not hold them for long.”

Hunt heard a clang of metal on metal. Clang. Clang. Clang.

“They’re trying to break through the gate. We must go now,” Lambert said and pushed Hunt towards the well. “This is an escape,” Lambert tried to reassure him. “One thing about the people here, they are as paranoid as they are crazy. No Legionnaire would rest here, unless there was a way out. A route out. The ones from Indochina built tunnels around this place many years ago. Now we can use them for what they were intended.”

Hunt didn’t need any more convincing. If a bunch of shell shocked and disabled soldiers from the first Indochina war decided they needed an escape route, it was good enough for him. He did as Lambert said, climbed on top of the dried well, lowered himself in, and then used the roughness of the stone walls to lower himself.

All he needed now was to slip and break an ankle. It smelled of damp and moss. The stone walls were covered in a slick slime. He used his hip flexors and his thighs to press the outer edge of his feet against the stones.

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