by Rees, Kevin
Jarvis made a noise, indicating his doubt. ‘With respect, Ma’am, how many times have you said that? The Praetor seems to be so many steps ahead.’
‘But this time we gave him no time to plan. So, in desperation, he made the call to his brother. Knowing the timeframe he had to work in, he panicked,’ Cotrane concluded.
‘But he has immunity from prosecution,’ Jarvis pointed out.
‘He hasn’t for treason. No-one is immune from prosecution if they plot to overthrow a sitting president.’ Cotrane beamed up at her colleague. ‘When the brain-suckers do their scan, I bet there will be a conversation in there between brothers.’
Jarvis returned the smile, but still felt it was going to be a long shot. ‘So what’s the next move?’
‘Let’s visit Thoragan and break the sad news of the sudden death of his brother.’
‘And we’re sure it is his brother?’
‘I know it’s been a couple of decades, but I never forget a war hero,’ Cotrane asserted.
‘War hero?’ Jarvis said, stiffening.
‘Yes, war hero. Major Janathen Thoragan — Hero of the Fourth Border war. Decorated several times.’
‘That was Janathen Thoragan!’ Jarvis couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.
‘Yep.’
‘Impossible! That man was a drunken wreck!’ Jarvis took a step back and stared at his superior as if she were going into some kind of shock after the shooting.
‘Oh, I know, but like I say — I never forget a war hero, and I especially never forget a lover.’
Jarvis’s face went through several contortions before settling on one that shared incredulity with confusion. ‘He was your ex-lover and you’ve just killed him.’ Jarvis delivered the words one at a time to make sure he was making sense of it all. ‘Thoragan and you were...’
‘Don’t look so shocked, Jarvis. Before I adopted this cold, flinty exterior I had a life.’ Cotrane was amused by Jarvis’s confusion.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘I should have got here sooner, perhaps. I could have spared you from having to take the shot. Did you know it was him?’ Jarvis posed.
Cotrane turned her head away for a second. ‘Of course I knew it was him.’ She turned back to meet his eyes, the hardness returning like a misplaced shadow. The last few minutes had been heady and her heart was still pounding. She sensed some sort of inquisition in Jarvis’s remark and looked for the accusation in his face. Yes, she had known it was Janathen. She saw his mouth, nose and eyes clearly before putting the first bullet into his wretched body. She watched him falter before getting into the car and knew he would do something spectacularly stupid as his options shrunk. Perhaps she could have wounded him — a lower shot. But the part that made up ninety-nine percent of who she was gave her no option but to make the shots fatal. ‘Mr Jarvis, are you asking me something?’
‘No, Ma’am. I wanted to make sure we both did the right thing.’
‘Meaning what, exactly, Guardsman?’ She decided to end the speculation that was forming a narrative in his head.
‘Meaning, Ma’am, that had I been at your side we may have taken the man alive and been able to interrogate him, giving us stronger evidence against the Praetor.’ Jarvis swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.
‘Well, you weren’t at my side. We didn’t take him alive and now I have to write up reams of paperwork. But first we visit Thoragan. Agreed?’
‘Agreed.’
Cotrane turned and walked back to the hospital. Jarvis struggled to understand the conversation they’d just had. Something in her manner and defensiveness made him uneasy. Cotrane was sometimes emotionless — almost too cold and detached. Then there were other times, like tonight, when she allowed the smallest crack of insight into her personality. Jarvis went over the conversation, looking for the ignition that somehow swapped her from temperate to arctic in the space of a few words. He had to quicken his pace to keep up with her. Perhaps she was genuinely hyped because of the shooting. Or was it because it was an ex-lover? He knew she was an excellent shot and could have wounded him had she wanted to. Although, if he were faced with the same situation — a vehicle about to mow him down — maybe he would have done the same.
Maybe he was reading too much into it.
24
The team moved quickly, spotting traps as the terrain and the undulation of the ground revealed the near invisible wires, pits and deadfalls. Maya led the team to a small clearing where one of the soldiers was kneeling over a heavy wooden-hatch disguised with a layer of ground moss. She carefully removed the few remaining pieces and looked closely along the edges of the wood. Earth was still embedded in the crack indicating no one had used it to escape. She signalled silently to the team, pointing to a grenade in her hand. Maya held up four fingers and a thumb outstretched. The soldier prepared to wrench open the hatch. The others retreated to the trees and got down on their stomachs. The soldier had his hands on the wood and looked at the woman in readiness. Maya took a deep breath and counted down. As her fingers curled, the soldier tore off the hatch. Maya pulled the pin and threw it into the darkness. The soldier slammed the wood back into the hole and raced, with Maya, to a tree. The explosion rippled through the earth. The door to the tunnel was hurled three metres up into the air and fell next to Tork.
Karl ran to the smoking hole and dived into it, ignoring the jarring pain in his ankle. The tunnel was low and narrow forcing him to drop to his knees to move. The rest of the team, led by Tork, followed behind. Karl pushed forward, having to scramble sideways to get through the narrow passage. The tunnel began to widen at the far end where light was winning the battle with the dark. Karl stopped himself from launching into the recess. If Father was in there, he was cornered and dangerous. Karl crawled forward slowly, sighting his pistol on the shaft of light.
He emerged into a wider chamber where Father had held Kat. It looked like the explosion in the mortuary had softened the roof of the tunnel, enough at least for the girl to crawl out through the narrow hole above his head. If Karl read it right, Father had tried to follow but had brought more of the tunnel down on himself. He shone his torch around, looking for an arm or leg poking out of the debris. Karl dropped his weapon and began to shovel handfuls of dirt away from the floor.
Tork was behind Karl and being showered with mud. He tapped the man on his backside while spitting soil out of his mouth. ‘Commander, he’s not here...Karl, can’t you see?’
Undeterred, Karl kept on digging furiously. His fingers started to bleed as skin and nails were stripped off. Tork ordered the soldiers to move back down the tunnel. He grabbed hold of Karl’s ankles and yanked him backwards. Karl found himself gagging on a mouthful of wet earth. His brutal lust to find Father lay choking with him. He found a space in his mind and recited a litany of apologies to his dead wife for failing to kill the man who took her from him.
‘Commander, I’m sorry, but you are alarming the team.’ Tork rested a hand on the man’s leg.
Karl pulled himself out of the dirt and nodded. ‘We had best see where this mongrel came out.’
Tork could see his friends tired face wore an unprecedented look of defeat. ‘Prepare to follow the commander and keep alert.’ Tork tapped Karl’s boot. ‘Ready when you are, sir.’
Karl moved ahead. He knew where the tunnel would lead and knew his opportunity was lost. Twenty metres on, the tunnel turned upwards.
The smell of cordite still hung in the air as he pushed away the grating and crawled up into the mortuary. The team followed silently behind. Bodies and bits of flesh stiffened in poses of death lay waiting for the clean-up team to remove them for cremation. Karl witnessed the damage Lars’ sacrifice had inflicted on the enemy. Burnt arms and legs lay in all corners of the mortuary, while chunks of flesh decorated the walls and ceiling.
‘I’m sorry, Commander. We should have moved the trolley away from the grating. Maybe he was down there while
we were killing these sons of bitches.’ Tork could empathise with Karl’s pain and somehow felt responsible. Seeing Lars destroyed by the explosion and taking in a team who had little combat experience made for a sloppy result. Tork wanted no more deaths. Perhaps he was getting too old or too damaged by what he’d seen. Perhaps, if he were honest, he was sick of bringing home dead comrades younger than himself.
‘It’s not your fault, Tork, its mine. This mission was disjointed in its planning, and it’s cost our brothers their lives.’ Karl felt he wanted to be alone, but he also wanted to be here with his men. He wasn’t behaving like the commander they trusted and respected. He was too driven by hatred, which had resulted in mistakes.
‘What now, sir?’ Tork asked.
‘Get back to the casualty area and pick up our gear to evacuate. He’s gone,’ Karl said. There was an undisguised heaviness in his voice. ‘I need to see Cole.’
‘Maya... Scott. Accompany the commander back to the evac area. The rest of you, let’s carry out a sweep. We may find out where he’s gone.’
When Karl, Maya and Scott got back to the casualty department, they saw Eddie sitting on the floor, cradling the woman they’d rescued. He was rocking her gently against his chest. Kat was still, with the only movement coming from silent lips, as if she were talking to him.
‘Where’s Cole?’
Eddie didn’t answer.
Karl knelt down next to him. He could see the man had been crying. A quick glance at the girl told him she was lost in the mind and would never recover. He could tell, having seen some of Father’s victims who had been lucky or, in most cases, unlucky, enough to survive.
‘Father! Cole’s in here,’ Maya shouted.
Karl left the nurse and made for the cubicle. Cole was propped up on his side and heavily bandaged with dressings bulging over the bullet wound. Karl anxiously watched the steady rise and fall of his chest; it appeared even. He turned to Cole’s face. The boy looked peaceful and didn’t seem to be in any pain.
‘Maya, see to Keagan and the girl. You go as well, Scott. I’ll stay with Cole.’ Karl reached out a hand and clasped the limp fingers of his son. Tork was right about the nurse: he had impressive skills for a First Blood healer. He was going to be an asset. Especially, as now he had a reason to join them. Karl immediately rebuked himself over the thought. Hypocrite! It wasn’t right for any man or woman to suffer the loss of a loved one to provide a reason to fight evil. But, in doing so, Father was turning the guns upon himself and igniting the bonfire of revenge that fuelled the murderous rage that stalked him everywhere he went. Even so, Karl felt his suffering had reserved him the right to personally take the beast’s head off his neck. He would do it nice and slowly, so he could hear his screams, hoping they were louder than Marissa’s.
‘Father.’
He looked up. ‘Yes, Maya?’
‘The nurse refuses to leave his woman. He sits there rocking her. Her mind’s gone, can’t he see?’ Maya said, angrily.
He paused, thinking. ‘Have Sixsmith’s men left this area yet?’
‘There’s no-one on this level but us,’ Maya replied.
‘Gather up what you can take and tell Scott to load up one of the vehicles. Contact Tork and tell him to oversee the removal of the rest of our equipment and to rendezvous back at base. I’ll take Cole,’ Karl instructed, turning back to his son.
‘Is he fit to travel? Couldn’t he bleed, or something?’
‘The nurse has done an exceptional job. Our medical team can look after him as soon as we get back.’
‘What about the nurse and the girl? We can’t just leave them. They know about us,’ Maya said.
‘Is your concern for both, or just one?’ Karl said, smiling. ‘Be careful, little one, you are coming of age and sometimes women make mistakes when choosing who they want to be close with.’
‘Was it a mistake to take a First Blood wife, Father?’
‘Your mother was beautiful, like you, and as fiery and temperamental as any Third Blood woman. It was no mistake. I fell in love with the right woman.’
Cole moaned. They both turned to him. He winced in pain before opening one eye. It took him some time to focus on the face of his adoptive father. His shoulder seemed numb and immobile and he wanted something to drink. He tried mumbling a few words through cracked lips.
‘Don’t try and move too much, son,’ Karl said.
Maya came around and stood beside her father. Even through a haze of pain and thirst, Cole could see something had changed in her. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, even through her smile, and something else; something of an old wisdom had impressed itself onto her face.
‘Go do as I ask, Maya. I’ll make sure Cole’s all right.’
She left the cubicle and relayed her father’s instructions to the other soldier. Scott immediately started collecting easily moveable objects and took them out to the vehicles. Maya relayed the same message to Tork over her radio. He acknowledged Karl’s order and told her they would arrive at her position as soon as the sweep was completed. Karl appeared out of the cubicle with Cole in his arms. Without a word he walked out of the doors.
Maya was left alone with Eddie and Kat. Eddie wasn’t going to let go of the woman. Heaven knows why, she was half dead anyway. Maya felt a surge of something she had never felt before — anger mixing dangerously with jealousy. And it was starting to fuel a fire in her veins. How could he hold her like that? Maya glared down at them. She wouldn’t be anything more than a rag-doll. She looked to the girl who was mouthing something unintelligible. Surely, it would be kinder to save her the agony of being locked away in her own private hell by ending her life? That was compassion. And it would release Eddie from the burden she was unfairly placing on him. Her hand went to the handle of her knife. She let her fingers toy with the rubberised grip as if they were about to make the decision.
‘Shall we take them now?’
Her father’s voice made her jump. She hadn’t heard his footsteps behind her — but then she wouldn’t. Her hand dropped quickly away from the knife, but not quickly enough for her father to catch the movement she tried to disguise by tightening a strap on her vest.
‘Is everything okay, Maya?’ Karl questioned.
‘Yes. I was waiting for some help.’ Maya tried to avoid his eyes. He knew she was lying.
Karl said nothing. He looked at the two lovers on the floor and decided there was only one way this would work. Without any hesitation, he punched Eddie just behind his left ear and caught his unconscious body. Kat fell out of his limp arms. Karl managed to reach out a hand to protect her head before it hit the floor. Maya took control of the girl from him and roughly dragged her out of the doors. Karl heaved the unconscious nurse onto his shoulder, wincing as his ankle protested at the extra weight. Limping, he followed Maya to the vehicles.
For several minutes there was ghostly silence in the deserted unit — an alien luxury the walls, floors and ceilings hadn’t witnessed in over six decades. Nothing moved until the doors crashed open and the rest of the team filed into the department. They grabbed the remaining gear and Cole’s shattered radio. Before leaving, Tork took one last walk around to make sure everything was cleared away and no trace of their intervention remained. As he exited Eddie’s office, one of the cleanup crew backed through the door He was trailing a mop and bucket filled with dark, bloody water. Tork watched the man drag the trolley across the floor using the weight of his body as a lever to make the small wheels comply with the direction he was taking. Even to a grizzled soldier it was an inefficient way of manoeuvring a simple contraption. All he had to do was push the thing instead of pulling it. Perhaps his height hindered him, Tork considered. He was tall and lean and the handle of the mop was short.
‘Hey, friend, we’re pulling out. The place is going to be all yours,’ Tork said.
Without turning, the man spoke. ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’
‘Not today. But who knows? Maybe tomorrow?’<
br />
‘How about never?’ The man spun around with surprising speed and caught the soldier with the heavy wet end of the mop.
Tork tasted foul, bloody water in his mouth and wanted to gag, except his reflexes had him dive to the right. He looked up at the man leaning over him. Behind the paper-mask was a face of absolute evil. For a moment, Tork — in a lifetime of combat and mental preparation — froze. He heard a crisp snap, and then searing agony as something was driven into his chest. Father pressed down with all his weight until the wooden stake tore through the soldiers’ body. Blood pumped into the back of Tork’s throat, choking off any call for help. Reflex forced him to inhale, and he sucked the viscous liquid deep into his lungs. Tork, the consummate professional, had been caught off guard and was now drowning in his own blood. Before oxygen starvation could lead him into a gentle death, Father stabbed his fingers into Tork’s mouth. The nails acted like four sharp stilettos, slicing his tongue in half, which added to the blood choking him. Father flexed his fingers, tearing through Tork’s cheeks leaving ribbons of severed skin to hang loosely over exposed teeth and gums. Tork let out a feeble bubbling from his chest as he bled out onto the newly cleaned floor.
Father ripped off his mask and howled in triumph. He pressed his fingers into the gaping hole that had been Tork’s mouth and swirled them around as if stirring a cup of coffee. Father licked the thick fluid clinging to each digit and made a repulsive guttural sound as he savoured the taste of the Third Blood killer.
Everyone knew of Tork, a vile murderer of his people. This was a man who many decades ago was feared by every Bloodeater. Perhaps that reputation was undeserved as inviting him to his death had been so easy.
