Called to Kill

by A. M Surtees

  I growled at her to shut her mouth and sit down before I snapped her in half. She obeyed, looking quite defeated. I hadn’t forgotten what she had told me last time I spoke with her about me being “Krazy Kitty” and her being intimidated by me. A fact I didn’t hesitate in making the most of while I had the opportunity.

  “Ok, yes. It is true that we don’t have all the information you are looking for, such as why they did what they did, but one thing I can tell you is that we do have the name of the person responsible, and that person is standing in this room right now.”

  As if on cue, and justifiably so, everyone gasped, looking around at their neighbours to assess their faces and try to work out for themselves who it was. Coming up empty, their faces turned back to me, not a word leaving anyone’s lips as it sunk in that one of their trusted colleagues, was the one who tried to take everyone down and successfully took away Marcy’s life.

  After a moment of silence, while everyone processed the information they were given, there was movement in the back of the room.

  “Get out of my way or I’ll put a bullet in you faster than you can say ‘who’s your daddy!’”

  I watched as everyone spun on their heels to face the back of the room, confusion covering the mass majority as there by the door, stood James and Braxton, gripping the wrists of a furious Camille who was kicking her legs in an attempt to force them to loosen their grip, trying to break free.

  Braxton looked at me as he waved the 9mm pistol that she had drawn from the waistband of her navy blue, denim jeans and pointed at them as she demanded they allow her to pass.

  “Camille? Why?” asked Penelope, tears welling up in her eyes as she slowly approached the girl she had cared for, the girl she had loved like a mother loves their own child, – mine excluded – no other words could manage to make their way passed her lips as her tears took over. Melody ran up to Penelope, taking her in her arms and offering comfort, but not before she offered up one mother of a slap, leaving a red hand shaped welt on Camille’s left cheek.

  Camille looked up, a narcissistic smile creeping across her lips as she began to speak.

  “You think you’re so great, don’t you Penny? You think you have everyone fooled. I know what you are trying to do.” A horrid, almost satanic tone, exiting her usually silent mouth. On the rare occasions that she had spoken in the past, she was the complete opposite to what she was now. She was as docile as a newborn kitten. Now, she was more like a rabid dog. That was the sole reason why when Mack had floated the crazy concept of it being Camille, we brushed it off. But when her photo came up on a Russian database for a computer hacker named Tiffany Reynolds, everything fell into place. She was smart. She knew how to play the game and if it hadn’t been for the long shot data search, she would have gotten away with it.

  Penelope turned to face Camille, while Melody, refusing to let her dear friend go, stood at her side.

  “Why would you hurt me Camille? Why would you take the life of that poor tech girl who was only trying to help? She had a little boy you know? She was a mother. Why would you do that? What could you possibly gain from this madness?”

  “Are you really going to keep going? Are you, dead set going to let me take all the blame for this? Don’t forget the part you played in this before you go condemning me to hell.” She leaned back against Braxton, lifting her leg to try and kick Penelope before the boys pulled her back, forcing her back leg to buckle slightly.

  “Wait. What on earth is that supposed to mean?” I approached them and pulled her hair, jerking her head backwards as I demanded an answer. She responded by spitting in my face and laughing hysterically.

  She really was proving to be a delight, wasn’t she. I wiped her saliva from the side of my face, taking a step back before I decided that she needed to learn to show some respect, punching her square in the jaw. The force of the blow sent her backwards, held upright only by the grip the boys still had on her wrists.

  We hauled her limp, unconscious body into the 4x4 and took off, leaving everyone else at the bar with a million questions still unanswered. I didn’t care. We had our girl, the only questions I cared about getting answers to were mine.

  Chapter twenty-eight

  When she finally woke up from her little nap, Camille’s eyes darted around the room, quickly coming to the realization that we were no longer at the bar, but in the interrogation room of the Sydney office. Attempting to lift her hands to her face where she had been hit by both myself and Penelope she found herself handcuffed to the chair. She looked at me as if she was going to rip me in two as I walked into the room.

  “Let me out of here! Now!” He voice had lost all of its honey and become something dark and vicious.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but the only place you’re going aside from this room, is lock up in Melbourne.” I laughed as she frantically pulled on the cuffs in an attempt to lunge at me.

  “You don’t get it, do you? You thought you had it all figured out but you could not have been more off the mark.”

  “Off the mark? You murdered Marcy!” My fist pounded against the table with a force that made Camille jump before she simply started to laugh. For some reason, she found humor in my anger and frustration. This was definitely one of those times where I will admit I was an idiot for not taking my own advice to never judge a book by its cover.

  “Yeah, I put a bullet in your friend and you know what, it was exhilarating, I see why you enjoy it so much, but I wasn’t working alone. Or should I say that my actions were not driven by my own independent choices.” She sat back in her chair and looked me in the eye, the look on her face a prideful one. She was willing to admit it but she wasn’t in the least bit sorry.

  “So, who were you working for then?” Dimitri asked, walking in the door and taking the seat in the corner behind me.

  I expected another smart ass retort, but only one word came out of her mouth before she shut up again, a victorious smirk playing on her plump pink lips. She thought she’d beaten us, gotten a one up. She gave only a name; Penelope. I was losing my patience with her to say the least and now she was just toying with us.

  “That is not what I meant and you know it. Who was pulling the strings? Who are you getting the information for? Who ordered you to kill Marcy?”

  My hips connected hard with the table, my hand darting to her throat as the last question left my mouth. I didn’t care about the files, I didn’t even care about Penelope, but what I did care about was having to bust my ass in this place, dragging four other poor bastards with me, only to have to drag another poor bastard out here because this piece of garbage decided it would be ‘exhilarating’ to put a bullet in Marcy.

  “Are you really stupid or are you just plain ignorant? I told you. I… work… for… Penelope.”

  She let out a loud, frustrated sigh. Slowing down the last words as if saying them slowly would make any kind of difference. Good, I was glad she was getting frustrated because I can guarantee her frustration had nothing on mine.

  “Fine, don’t co-operate. I really don’t care, you’ll cough it up eventually. Especially once we get back to Melbourne. We have very unconventional ways of interrogating people back home.”

  “Tamikah, listen here you stupid girl! I work for Penelope! Do you understand what I’m saying to you? She’s probably trying to run as we speak and is willing to let me rot in hell when the whole thing was her idea.” Camille’s tone was different, less arrogant this time and the voidance of arrogance was like a hammer breaking through the glass of my mind.

  Wait. What!? She had to be joking. How on earth does she really expect me to believe that Penelope was behind this? That my out of this world, crazy idea about her using her girls as her evil minions, was bang on? Words could not even begin to explain what was going through my mind.

  “You honestly expect me to believe that Penelope was behind all this and you where, what? The muscle to her brains? How stupid do you think I am?”

  “Very stupid. Sin
ce it took you this long to figure out I was the one that killed Darcy,” her deliberate attempt to get under my skin further by getting Marcy’s name wrong worked a treat.

  “But even when you figured out I killed your friend, you idiots still couldn’t figure out that I wasn’t working alone. That I had to have had help from someone higher up the food chain and it doesn’t get any higher than the managing director of the Sydney office now, does it?”

  I stopped to think about what she was saying for a moment. It was possible, I guess, but one thing still didn’t make a lick of sense to me.

  “If Penelope was behind this, then why would she instruct you to hurt her? She could have died. You expect me to believe that she deliberately risked her own life just to look innocent?”

  Camille clapped her heels together and cheered.

  “Finally, she gets it! And for the record, no, it wasn’t supposed to have been life threatening, but I thought the vase was ceramic. Turned out it was marble. Tends to leave a bigger dent in someone’s head.”

  I told Dimitri to watch Camille then darted out the door. If Camille was right, I was willing to bet anything that Penelope would be on her way to the airport to try and get out of town as soon as possible. I was right.

  Chapter twenty-nine

  As I walked through the doors of Sydney airport, I spotted Daniel coming my way, smiling as he eyed me from across the foyer, a tearful Penelope desperately trying to escape his grasp. She stopped fighting against him as soon as she saw me, dropping to her knees in defeat.

  “Please Tammy, you don’t understand. Let me explain.”

  “Don’t ever call me that again!” I snapped, the sting of her betrayal being confirmed by her attempt to run, burning through me. She was like a mother to me. Turns out when it comes to mothers, I have a type.

  “I’ve always called you Tammy though?” Her voice breaking as the realization set in that her actions had burned the bridge that bonded us.

  “Now you call me Miss Gray. We aren’t family anymore Ms Stewart. You don’t get to use nicknames. Least of all with me. You are going to rot for this and as for me, I can’t stand to even look at you.”

  She begged me to show mercy, attempting time and time again to play the family card, but her pleas fell on deaf ears as Daniel and I forced her into the back of his car.

  I rode shotgun while Daniel drove. We made sure that both the child locks and the automatic window locks were engaged on both sides of the car so that there was no way for Penelope to escape while we were driving.

  We pulled into the car park for the Sydney office, dragged her out of the car and forced her into the building and locking her in the room with Camille. This definitely was an interesting turn of events. I couldn’t believe it when I found out that it was Camille who killed Marcy, but to find out that Penelope was the brains behind it, well now that was a whole new level of shock. The only thing worse than the shocking realization that Penelope was behind it all, was the betrayal. Her and Jackson ran Melbourne together when I started and now she risked all of our lives and for what? I would soon find out.

  I actually found it oddly amusing to think that I had actually come up with the idea that this was possible and dismissed it as so ridiculous it actually made me laugh. If I’d ever considered this concept was anything more than completely insane, I’d have handled it weeks ago and already been back in my own bed. Marcy might still be alive. The guilt of that last thought made me feel like garbage but there wasn’t any way I could have known it was possible. Even now it seems crazy.

  In the room next door to the interrogation room, where we could see and hear the two girls through the two way mirror, Daniel and I were alone. I took the opportunity to talk about what has happened between us in the last twenty four hours. Daniel told me that Jackson had set him up with a one bedroom apartment and we would go from there. He didn’t want to pressure me into a relationship but he did want to continue seeing me and the only way he could do that was to come back with us.

  I walked into his arms and just let him hold me while we watched what could only be described as a cat fight worthy of the Bold and the Beautiful, between Camille and Penelope. They were cuffed to opposite sides of the table, hurling obscenities and abuse at one another.

  Neither of them would budge on the why but I was confident we would get it out of them one way or another once we had them in custody back in Melbourne. They can remain as tight lipped as they like while we are here but we have the rest of their lives to get back what was stolen and get an answer as to why they took it in the first place. I had a feeling their was a third player here but I wasn’t getting a name while in Sydney so the best bet was to get them back home, separate them and break them down one at a time.

  Now that we had both girls in custody, It was high time I called Jackson to organise our trip home. He arranged a private plane to bring the six of us, including Daniel, home, along with our prisoners. Now all there was left to do was pack my stuff together and check out of the hotel.

  I never really unpacked even though I was here for four months so it took me less than an hour to pack the rest of my things together and check out. Daniel met me out the front and I placed my two small bags in the boot of his car along with the two large suitcases and duffle bag he had of his own. He told me he planned to sub let his apartment for three months which gave us time to see if there was anything real between us rather than a holiday fling. I thought that was a very mature and smart thing to do.

  When we reached the airport, Dimitri greeted us at the door, leading us to the room we had secured by airport staff, informing them that we were transporting dangerous criminals and it was in the interest of airport security that they be separated from the other airport patrons. The staff were happy to oblige and offered us a meeting room that was used by the Australian Federal Police to move their prisoners. It was perfect.

  Now to await the arrival of Jackson and our flight home.

  Chapter thirty

  I had never been more excited to see another human being than I was when Jackson walked through the door after two long hours of waiting. I darted straight for him and hugged him without even thinking. He patted me on the back gently and I knew he was happy to see me too.

  It was only four months since we left for Sydney, but it seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Jackson took a moment to compose himself before approaching Penelope, who tried to pull the crocodile tears act again, with it working just as well on Jackson as it had on me.

  I took a quick step towards him as his hand darted out for her throat and what he did made Penelope conjure up real tears. He reached into the lining of her shirt, retrieved the small star pendant that hung around her neck and with one swift pull, snapped the clasp that held it in place.

  Jackson had given that pendant to Penelope many years ago and she swore to never take it off. When they started the Melbourne organisation together, they were married. Part of the reason Penelope took over the Sydney office without hesitation was because working together after the divorce was difficult for both of them. The pendant was his gift to her on their five year anniversary and symbolised both their bond to each other, that even in divorce would never be severed, and also their commitment to the five chains of the organisation being the reason for the pendant being of a star. Penelope’s eyes grew wide as genuine tears spilled down her cheeks. She knew what he was saying without him ushering a word. He was done with her and there would be no place for her in his heart or this organisation, ever again. That is what broke her with such ferocity that even Camille looked like she felt sorry for her.

  Braxton escorted a seemingly defeated Penelope out onto the tarmac and towards the plane while James escorted Camille who continued to thrash around and put up a fight, trying endlessly to break free from his grasp. His hold on her remained firm until his grip loosened completely as he fell to the ground in pain when her feet kicked out behind her, her heel connecting with his testicles.

 
; As he fell to his knees, Camille grabbed the handgun that was attached to his waistband, waving it blindly in my direction as she squeezed the trigger, creating a sound that echoed throughout the empty airspace, the bullet plummeting through my shirt, striking just below the ribs, with a force that sent me backwards until the solid pavement broke my fall.

  Running on pure instinct, my hand went straight for my abdomen to put pressure on the fresh wound as my warm blood gushed out, soaking the white button down shirt. Tears filled my eyes, signifying the level of pain I was in, swallowing hard, to try and slow my breathing while Jackson paced the pavement beside me, desperation shining through his voice as he relayed the incident to the operator on the phone.

  I heard my name screamed out through the wind as Mack and Daniel came running towards me, Daniel dropping to his knees at my side, lifting my head and placing it on his lap while Mack dropped to the other side, taking my hand in hers and assuring me that I would be fine.

  I looked over to find James still on the ground wincing in pain, Dimitri at his side, Penelope standing unguarded but unmoving, just staring off into the distance with enough of her profile facing me that I could see her cheeks were wet from fresh tears.

  “Penelope!” I called, my voice breaking as simply speaking caused me great pain. She walked over to me slowly, stopping at my feet.

  “Tammy, I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.” She sobbed as she looked down at me, bleeding heavily at her feet and the weight of her actions wore her down completely as she begged me for forgiveness,

  I could have said something profound. I could have told her that she was a mother to me and I would always love her. I could have.

  “I will never forgive you for this. I hope you rot in hell!” She took a step back and sat down on the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest as she continued to sob once again.