Thirty Four Minutes DEAD
Page 25
“Thanks for the truth, Greg. I’m glad she was just a passing phase. Your eyes had told me about Levene months ago anyway”.
Gregory Vain knew that his wife had been hurt by his words, but he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders with his confession. He wanted to express his love for his wife straight away, but Tan pressed him to bring her up to date with his current project standing. Vain told her that he was going to ask Denison in person if he could be the first MC Project resignation. He was about to divulge his intended approach when Tanya halted him in his tracks.
“If you go back to Washington you know you’re a dead man Greg, and they aren’t going to keep the rest of us alive as a mark of respect, are they? We’ve got to leave tomorrow night, I know a way”.
Vain was amazed. He thought that his wife had taken leave of her senses.
“No one escapes, Tan. You must be mad to contemplate the idea! Leif wouldn’t wipe me. I’m like a second project son to him. A formal release would benefit everyone, it would sow a good seed and relax the bad feelings that are blowing through project ranks”.
Tanya clasped Vain’s face with both hands. A gesture, which had been utilised once before by other hands in a far off place. She hooked his full attention.
“I’ve had months to think. Greg. I’ve anticipated your current situation countless times. Not the specifics, but the baseline has never been far from my thoughts. The project doesn’t need you anymore. You’ve been pushed to the periphery more and more. To them you’re a bad seed now! Sure you’re popular, but not with those who drive things. You’re so fucking naive - staring into the barrel of a gun and yet still hoping for a ‘job well done’ pay off! Get real Greg, you’ll be the next Fray”.
Vain knew that she was right. On occasions even now, he would try to run away from the reality of a situation. He had shot his mouth off too often in project circles, and his actions had made him a potentially dangerous incarnate maverick spirit. He asked a question to Tanya, as he felt that she might harbour the survival plan that was essentially out of his grasp.
“What is your way out of here then, Tan?”
“At last it listens! Mark Davies is one of the security patrol guys here. I recognised him six weeks back. We were at Art College when I was in my teens. We were very good friends then and we’ve envisaged a similar situation to this arising for some time now. We’ve talked about a way out many times. There’s a ‘blind spot’ pick up point behind our residence, where all four of us could be concealed - smuggled out in his security vehicle. Mark leaves the confines of the project village at eleven each evening. He enjoys a high status and his vehicle isn’t scanned thoroughly like most of the others that leave the village. I know, I’ve been through with him twice before, to survey escape possibilities for myself”.
Vain broke in with senses of excitement and jealousy conspiring together.
“What’s in it for this guy? I mean, was your friendship a between the sheets affair in your college days or what?”
Tanya was momentarily indignant.
“Hypocrite. I almost wish it had been! Rest assured ‘oh-so-worthy’ husband, Mark’s gay. Always has been. Some people still do decent things, you know. You’ve been too long in the confines of your fucking project. Society is still blessed with those who don’t seek an alterior motive”.
As Vain contemplated his wife’s words, one of the surveillance fighter planes flew overhead. Tanya continued after the noise subsided.
“Look, our villas have a security inspection every second day. They’ll give us the once over tomorrow, sometime in the morning. If we go tomorrow night, we’ll have around thirty-six hours to escape and seek a place of refuge. I’ve already got a journey in mind, involving a safe haven where we can lay low before eventually losing ourselves in Europe, when our scent has been hidden for some time”.
“You’ve got it all figured out love, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. How much cash have you got? Obviously we’re going to use pseudonyms, so hard cash will be our only source to enable transactions”.
“Only about six or seven grand”.
“Luckily I’ve got a fair bit more. I’ve seen this day coming for some time like I said, so I’ve been making preparations. We should survive for a year or so on what we’ve got between us”.
The pair talked for a while longer before going back into the villa. After making love, they fell asleep, sprawled out naked on the living-room floor.
In the morning Voight came round to undertake the aforementioned security checks. He was surprisingly gushing in his warmth, proffering a smile to all the Vains and conducting his inspection with an informal air that went with his good-natured demeanour. Greg and Tanya both knew that they were witnessing a beguiling falsehood in the man. They knew that if Vain did return to Washington, Voight would probably be at the forefront of the trigger-pullers.
As night dawned, Mark Davies was true to his word. When Tanya had contacted him in the grounds of the project village earlier that day, he had been more than pleased to comply with the escape plan. After all, he and Tanya had prepared its execution as an envisaged real-life scenario and not a supposition.
Hiding the Vains in the confines of Mark’s security vehicle went without a hitch, and the children were very mature as Greg concealed them. Rachel and Gary had both detected the seriousness of their escape from the fraught worry-lines hanging over the faces of their parents, and they were determined to support their mum and dad with impeccable behaviour. Davies drove his security vehicle through the tunnel and no searches apprehended their progress. The Vains had broken out without breaking sweat. An old friendship had effectively extended a middle-digit farewell to the ‘total-control’ prerogatives of the MC Project. The world hadn’t fully changed yet.
Davies dropped the family outside the main Edinburgh railway station, Vain with a baseball cap and Tanya with a ‘last resort’ haircut administered by her own hands. They briefly whispered their gratitude to Davies, hugging him close to their family unit. After his departure, their journey continued. The Vains now running under Peterson as a pseudonym if anyone asked, boarded the 06.07 train to Poole and when this destination was reached, a further short rail journey to Portsmouth Harbour was taken. A taxi was then the chosen method of transport, conveying the family to a ferry terminal that dealt with Channel Island crossings. The Vains boarded a ferry and alighted in Guernsey. Tanya’s flawless escape route was nearly over.
After the family had enjoyed a small breakfast at a hotel called ‘Auberge des Isles’, one further sailing awaited the group - a twenty-minute crossing to Herm, the smallest Channel Island. This was Tanya’s envisaged retreat. None of the Vains had been there before, but Tanya had read about the beautiful Island and when she realised that Greg could fall out of project-favour, it seemed the perfect place to hide. All the Vains were booking into the winter-let accommodation on Herm some four hours before the project listed them as ‘missing’.
NINETEEN
After three weeks on Herm the Vains felt as though they were locked in paradise. They were acclimatising to being known as the Petersons with ease, as only a handful of families forged an existence on the island in the winter months, and most days were spent free from any searching conversation from others. Only a white stone hotel and a clutch of shops reminded the family of the outside world, and subsequently a uniform blanket of privacy hid their existence. Gary and Greg went fishing off the wilder side of the island, whilst Rachel and Tanya made their own keepsake jewellery from the shells that they collected on the beaches. The weather had remained mild during their settling-in period and the family often remained close to the shoreline until night started to fall. Even then magenta shreds of colour refused to die in the fading sky, until the stars were apparent for some considerable duration.
The whole family acquired favourite areas on Herm, but a common-denominator for all of them existed in Belvoir bay. This beautiful area of the coastline featured a small
cove with ivory-white sand. The azure-blue sea that enclosed the bay seemed more akin to foreign climes, and the temperature echoed this continental feel. On September 26 the whole family travelled to their favourite collective haunt once again.
Greg had brought the small mobile barbecue, for what would probably be their last opportunity before winter would rape the autumnal warmth that hung over Herm. The obligatory football had also been taken with them. A solitary speedboat weaved through the waves close to the beach itself. Like the Vains, it seemed to be playing out summer.
Greg was about to turn his attention to setting up the barbecue when Tanya and Gary playfully knocked him over, kicking the football in front of them. Vain joined in the shenanigans, punting the ball with some force. It disappeared behind an outcrop of rocks and Rachel was overjoyed to play her part at last.
“I’ll get it, Daddy!”
The boat turned to the shore, with a strong revving of its engines. A man in a half-mast wetsuit got out. His feet contacted the white sand. He was twenty metres from the family when Vain saw the gun in his right hand. Time seemed to freeze as the figure drew nearer. Gary stood open-mouthed looking straight at the man. As the man placed both hands on his machine-gun, Vain drew Tanya and Gary to him. His voice was hoarse.
“I love you. Love you”.
The gun reports rocked the tranquillity of Belvoir Bay. Twenty-five rounds and then an empty magazine. The blood of the Vains entwined, flowing as one towards the surf.
The man halted and then spoke to the dead in front of him.
“I’ll leave your ‘Tsar’s privilege’”.
He turned to walk back into the waves. His feet didn’t touch the blood of the Vains.
EPILOGUE
The little girl had nearly reached the football, when loud engine noises distracted her.
From her vantage point, she saw a man walking towards her family. She saw the gun in his hands, but the scream that she longed to release never came.
She heard her Daddy say something, but she wasn’t quite able to detect his specific word choices due to the whispered nature of the utterance.
Then she saw her family die and heard the killer mutter something afterwards - exactly what she couldn’t decipher.
Rachel sat down as the man got back into his boat and departed.
After staying motionless for some time, she felt inside her dress pocket. She carefully took out the small amethyst broach. Daddy had given her it - he would stay with her.
* * * * *
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Table of Contents
Title
© Copyright Notices
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
About the Author