“I’ve always said the best way to stop crime is to get out there and face it head-on.”
I wrote this story for the following prompt.
Word of the Day Challenge — Precocious
Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge – Picture above by Shift Drive @ shutterstock.com.
Pensitivity’s Three Things Challenge — Rink– Sink – Brink
Francis the Frenchie’s Daily Phrase Challenge — Fast Eater
To Tangle With Thieves
When in London you feel like you’re always on the brink of danger, these days. What with regular terrorist threats, rising crime, demonstrations, and riots causing chaos about everything imaginable. Yes, living in London these days is akin to playing Russian roulette.
Annabel knew of the dangers but always tried to be a confident happy person as she travelled about the big city. Today she was on her way to work in Westminster.
On one particular road, she stepped off her powder-blue bicycle began to walk the wet pavement. She always walked this section as the red tarmac road was as slippery as an ice rink, more so when wet.
Annabel flicked a leaf from her ice-blue jeans and smoothed her burgundy work jumper. Taking hold of the handlebars and seat, she began to walk along with a strong posture and calm smile.
Despite the earlier rain, it was turning into a lovely day. She felt regal, walking past the white stone walls of the million-pound houses. They belonged to the upper-class aristocracy who lived here and gave the road that rich presence.
Another bonus of walking was that it allowed Annabel to notice more things. The man in the black hoodie, on the bench in the park opposite. He was often there meeting different people – a drug dealer most likely. The woman with the purple hair and her fast eater talent. Annabel had never seen anyone devouring bacon rolls in such a disgusting fashion. The happy postman, whistling every day as he delivered his mail.
There was something else today.
Annabel’s attention was taken by an ugly matt-black Nissan Micra. It had been fitted with garish body modifications that made it look misshapen. The suspension of been slammed to the tarmac and the exhaust note was that of an asthmatic motorbike.
The car roared by with music blasting out of the windows.
Annabel shook a soft brown ponytail, ‘What an awful racket!’ she thought.
Ahead the Micra spun around the roundabout, almost clipping a double-decker bus, and returned.
Annabel glanced over her shoulder as it passed by. ‘Perhaps he’s lost.’
She continued beneath the trees, smiling at a gentleman who nodded politely to her.
The roaring exhaust returned. For a third time, the car rumbled past. It negotiated the roundabout and passed Annabel once more.
‘What is he doing?’ she thought as she took a deep breath.
It was then the air was rent asunder by the broken hairdryer sound of a moped.
Annabel felt a spike in her anxiety. The moped was not on the road. It was on the path and coming straight towards her from behind.
Her breathing increased with her pace. She felt her heart pounding as the vital organ prepared her to fight or flight. She knew then, the Micra hadn’t been lost. It was seeking and laser marking victims for London’s notorious moped thieves.
Annabel had become the next target.
The moped rattled right behind her, carrying two young males in black hoodies and helmets. The pillion leapt onto the pavement and came around the garden side of Annabel’s bicycle. At the same time, the moped’s rider flanked her on the other side.
Annabel tensed as she was boxed in by the thieves.
“We take nice bike now, darlin’,” said the one on foot, his voice hollow in his helmet. He wrenched at and snatched the bicycle. He made to run as the moped accelerated away but he had a problem. Annabel had a precocious talent he was not going to like.
She seized a handful of his hoodie and shirt. “I don’t think so, pal.”
“I don’t want hurt you. But bike come with me!” Without letting go of his prize, he brandished a flick knife in his free hand.
“No, it’s not!” Annabel kept hold of him and prepared herself.
The moped rider had spun about now. He was preparing to return.
“Then die!” Annabel’s attacker thrust the knife backward towards her throat.
Annabel ducked beneath the blade and came up with a sharp axe kick. Her pink and white trainer cracked his helmet.
The attacker staggered away from the bicycle and lunged with an angry roar.
Annabel caught and propper her bicycle as she spun beneath the knife again. Landing a roundhouse kick to his stomach, she parried another murderous thrust. An uppercut palm strike and a sweeping kick to the knees left him flat on his back.
By then the mopeds roar was deafening.
Annabel jumped, throwing herself into a spinning kick. The moped rattled beneath her at twenty-five miles per hour. She grimaced as she felt her trainer sink into the right his chest. The impact jolted her into a roll.
He snapped off the moped, somersaulted, crashed to the pavement.
Annabel landed neatly beside him. Adopting her kickboxing pose, she sensed the knife coming again.
The first attacker hadn’t learned his lesson.
Annabel seized his wrist and twisted it painfully until the knife clattered to the pavement. Landing swift kicks to his head and stomach, she leapt into the air and caught his head between her thighs. Flipping backwards, she sent him head over heels, crashing to the pavement.
“Freeze where you are, Miss! I’m arresting you for assaulting these two men.” yelled a police officer running toward her.
Annabel straightened her posture and tightened her ponytail as she surveyed the crumpled thieves. “I committed no crime here, officer. I just gave these two the pasting they deserved,” she remarked with a cute smile.
“That’s not the way I saw it as I approached. Now, put your hands in front of you where I can see them.” The officer neared with one hand on his stun gun and the other brandishing his handcuffs.
“Stand down, Officer Yeltsin,” ordered the hooded man from the park. He held up his badge as he approached. “I’m DCI Luca Kastler of the City of London police force.”
“With all due respect, detective. I saw the assault; I have to take her in.”
“There was no assault, officer. You will note, that guy has an illegal flick knife. Both were wearing helmets having come off the moped. Had they not tried to steal the young lady’s bicycle, she wouldn’t have kicked their arses so spectacularly.”
“Oh.” said the officer looking confused. “So, I should arrest these two then?”
“Please.” Kastler smiled at Annabel. “I know you saw me in the park over the last couple of weeks.”
Annabel nodded, “I had an idea you were a drug dealer.”
“Oh, good my disguise worked then. We’ve had a rise in the number of drug-related offenses and moped riding thieves in the area. Myself and my team have been hiding in plain sight of city workers, drug dealers, and regular pedestrians in the hopes of catching some of them. I’m sorry they got to you first.”
“I’m sorry, I nearly arrested you too.” added the officer cuffing the moped’s rider.
“No harm done. I rather enjoyed putting my kickboxing skills to good use.” Annabel picked up her bicycle. You should know, that black Micra that roared past several times is involved. I’m pretty sure, the driver checked me out and then told the mopeds riders to steal my bike.”
“Good eye.” Kastler smiled again. “It’s a pity you don’t work for the force. These thieves wouldn’t stand a chance with you chopping them down.”
“Now, that’s a job I would take great pleasure in.” Annabel smiled back, climbed on her bicycle, and cycled back the way she came. Now her job was done she could go home happy.
Thanks for reading my friends.
Have a great day!