Accidental Don

Episode seven, part thirteen

Donald and Mick crouched in the dark, nestled between a rock and the trunk of a fallen tree. The ground there was slightly elevated and gave them a clear view of their lodgings while being far enough away for them to be confident they would remain unseen.
Mick had popped the battery off the laptop again once the men coming to visit had informed the third party of their arrival at the layby half a mile north of here. Between the two of them it was decided that the man who'd actually held a gun before be the one to carry it. Then, wrapped up in the coats they'd liberated from the now devastated cottage a couple of hundred miles south, they retreated to the vantage point they now occupied and waited.
They couldn't see the main gate from back there, so they'd not seen the men arrive. As a result they went on to not see the men approach the wrong residence.
"What was that?" Mick's attention was drawn to a flicker of light. Torchlight, flashing across the manicured area of grass outside the caravan in which their landlord lived, then a crunch as the butt of a pistol broke the safety glass of a car window.
A car alarm went off, the amber lights of the indicators intermittently casting their own light all around as the horn blared in time.
The alarm sounded for a full sixty seconds before one of the intruders had managed to find the keys, cursing himself for not doing that in the first place, and managed to press the correct button.
Sixty seconds. Plenty of time for the two hunters...

...to become prey.