Monday, March 13, 2017

Roper 2 - The Russians

Damn it!

We went through the effort of finding a nice and peaceful spot to spend at the German Autobahn "Rastplatz":

 Far away from the family restaurants, playgrounds and two gas stations and relatively private behind a tall hedge.

From where I was lying one of the wooden gazebos spotting the gigantic truck stop, was partially visible through the leaves. The voices came from there and I hoped that it would not turn into a hitchhiker-hippie-all-night-sing-a-long.

I kind of considered it to be OUR place! We wanted to camp out here and continue tomorrow, hoping to dodge the German police amongst the mass of other hitchhikers, littering every truck stop exit, during day time.

Worse of course would be to the Brotherhood patrolling the highway so close to the French border

I could see that L. had his eyes open already, lying in one of the micro hammocks we bought several hundred kilometres back. The hammock seemed to hang in free air, balancing on two broomstick thick sticks which were tethered to some rocks with clothesline.

It seemed a bit like magic but was actually a genius feat of engineering some hippie driving us from Hamburg to Frankfurt in his "magic bus".

L. turned his head and mouthed "Russian??"

True, the loud voices sounded like Russian...or some other East language, who knew the difference anyway?

Great, no poison chalice to large for E. !

I just hoped they would travel on fast, I haven't really slept the last 5 days and I needed this.

I was ditto hanging in thin air, closest to the hedge, and almost impossible to spot from the road or the rest of the truck stop.

The Russian chatter went on for some minutes and I allowed myself to be lulled asleep by it and the constant white noise from the highway, more a vibrating than a sound and....

What was that?

I stuck a hand between the leaves of the hedge and slowly moved a branch aside.

The trunk of the Russians giant blue car stood open and a tied and blindfolded figure was sitting up in it and was fed with a straw through what looked like a complicated ball gag.

The car was parked artfully so no one from the truck stop was able to see more than the first third of the car. I checked if there were any CCTV cameras on the light poles nearby but these were concentrated on the safe areas around the toilets.

One guy was kneeling in front of the person, untied the left leg and started to move it like a nurse would move a coma patients leg. Now I could see that it was a female sitting there. She tried to spit out the straw and scream. but the ball muffled any attempt of speech and the straw was forced back in through one of the holes.

I leaned closer to get a better look through the hole in the hedge when the shifting of my weight broke the magic spell that kept my hammock balanced on the two fragile sticks and I fell into and through the hedge.

Silence, utter silence, as the Russians starred at me sitting there bare footed and spread legged one meter from the whole assemble.

It was looking at a machine working together in beautiful harmony, or a wolf pack hunting, the two guys who were keeping a lookout pulled nasty looking knives and hurried to the ends of the hedge to find out if there were more peeping toms like me.

The woman was unceremoniously  tipped back over in the trunk and locked back in while the last of the quartet put his boot on my balls and started to squeeze just enough to me to totally paralyze me with pain.

Through the colourful dots covering my vision I could see that my attacker also pulled a knife out from under his jacket. He also had a gun I could see, but it seemed that he decided that the knife was appropriate in this situation.

I was about to die, gutted like a pig by a Russian gangster on a German Truck stop lying between beer caps and cigarette butts.

I expected the steel to tear into me when I heard shrill screams of pain and terror coming from behind the hedge. Oh god, they got L and cut him! A sharp, eye watering stench came over from the other side. Oh god, did it smell like this when they cut you open??

The pressure on my poor balls lifted a bit and my torturer starred into the hedge.

He called out some names in his language, as I slowly sank on my side my hands gently cupping the crown jewels when something came flying through the hedge just where my head has been and into the face of the bent over Russian.

A spurt of blood splashed the number plate of the limousine. a hammock filled with large rocks on his chest.

The fourth Russian was not taking shit, he took out his giant flute sized pistol and started to fire into the hedge. I expected giant explosions of Cyrillic might but was  nearly disappointed when I only heard a number of "PFFT PFFT PFFT" noises in rapid succession as he sprayed the hedge.

My tunnel view only allowed me to visually register the shiny, golden cartridges or bullets (whatever. I never seen a gun before) fell close to my face with a rich sound. But I think he hit home because the muffled screams of pain and terror stopped.

A long, stick like magazine dropped in front of my nose as the Russian reloaded.  I tried to roll on my side as he stepped over me,  to see if  L. was still alive. Everything seemed to move in slow motion

A large hand came swooping under the hedges stems and released what seemed to be a loop unfolding itself in a figure eight before landing right where the Russian were about to step.

A strained grunt, the rope tightened, and the asshole was falling horizontally with the back of his head hitting the curb of the sidewalk with a nasty, sickening sound.

All went black.

I woke up in the car. L. leaning over me from the passenger side, looking worried at me with bespectacled eyes.

"You ok?"

I honestly did not know, I felt sick and my balls were throbbing lumps of pain telling me that they would not take any more shit from my side.

"Can you drive?"


"Yeah, we are in their car. We need to go now before we get noticed! Can you??"

L. never took the license which was probably good because he tended to lose orientation even on a bicycle.

I starred at the space ship like interior of the car and found my way around.

"Sure" I said and carefully manoeuvred the ship of a car out of the parking lot. I starred in the back of the mirror to check our leftovers bout could not see one.

"They`re behind the hedge" L. said.

I mumbled appreciation and accelerated out on the highway.

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