by Brian Cain
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jodi found it difficult walking through the Fleet Street office complex and a day at a country retreat she had no idea of where, settled her down, the smell of crispy bacon, poached eggs and fresh tea at breakfast. Wherever she went Hurst was only metres away, during an afternoon walk in the extensive garden far out of sight of any other dwelling other than the castle like building on the grounds, she confronted Hurst. “Bruce do you really have to follow me everywhere, sleeping in my room, god I feel like a prisoner.”
Hurst continued to scan the landscape as he spoke, his suit was showing signs of needing maintenance and he was unusually unshaven. “John currently moves among the power base of Australian politics, he’s sanctioning people in power. There was a valid threat on your life, John is my closest friend, ally and mentor, you seem to be treating with a lack of concern.”
“For god sake Bruce half way round the world, in the middle of nowhere, what an earth can taking my life prove to anyone.”
Hurst looked sad, he dropped his head for a second before scanning the landscape. “We lost Gled at the airport yesterday, seems a similar attitude you have displayed by me on your arrival needed addressing.”
Jodi swallowed, she looked blank and crushed, she sat down on an ornate bench under a tree nearby. Hurst followed her and sitting with his back to the giant oak scanned the horizon in front of him. “Gled didn’t really exist did he, like Luke.”
Hurst looked at the ground for a few seconds, he sighed. “That’s correct, I only tell you to reinforce the seriousness of the situation, his death reflects the lengths some will go to destabilise your husband.”
“What happened,” Jodi looked at the neatly cut grass beneath her feet, the tang mixed with cultivated flowers and water lilies in the light breeze.
“It’s not important.”
Jodi looked at Bruce staring into his eyes. “I beg your pardon, a man gave his life so I may live. I have never heard such a meaningless statement.”
Hurst drew a big breath and stood up, he fidgeted in his suit pockets nervously. “He recognised hired muscle waiting at the airport gate you were due in at, the problem was they recognised him as well. In an attempt to beat information from him on a visit to the washroom he fell and struck his head. I and another operative were a few seconds late checking why he was being so long. We dispatched his adversaries with silenced gunfire, three of them, but Gled died instantly when he struck his head. The muscle was Middle Eastern, this is very serious Jodi.”
“Thank you, does Gled have family.”
“Yes he does.”
“Were they notified in the same manner as I with Luke?”
“Yes.”
Jodi held her hand over her mouth, she composed herself. “I’m going inside.”
“As you wish,” Hurst pushed his intercom ear plug further into his ear concentrating on a message, it was an ivory colour and rather obvious with its wire following his neck and into the collar of his suit. “Your father has arrived at the gate.”
They moved inside and a plain white transit van pulled up after negotiating the stately driveway over a mile long. William Bradley was ushered up the marble steps and into the stately doors, he was directed to a reception room to the right of the extensive entrance hall, the door closed behind him and a man standing in the centre of the room greeted him. Well dressed and muscular he wore his hair cropped across the top and short on the sides. His athletic body stretched the stitching of his suit and William strained his eyes and adjusted his glasses in an effort to recognise the figure. “Hello grandad.”
“Anthony.”
“Yes.”
“You here with your mother?”
“No grandad, she doesn’t know I’m here and never will.”
He sniffed, swallowed and shuffled to a nearby leather chair sitting down in front of his grandson. The smell of brandy and leather polish dominated right up to the cathedral ceilings, the tang of Westminster was everywhere. His frail body hardly filled his tailored shirts and suits these days and he looked as wrinkled as his face all over. “I know why you’re here, is there any point.”
Anthony stood over his frail grandfather and spoke softly but with assertion. “My mother must never know so if you were thinking of saying anything today I suggest you have a rethink. Did grandma know?”
“No, don’t be absurd, what kind of a man do you think I am.”
“A misguided one at times.”
“You sound like your father.”
“I am so much like my father it’s a relief to say it.”
“You flew yourself here, far as I remember you are a fine pilot and your father owns several planes.”
“Correct.”
“You used his satellite system to navigate and communicate on the way so no one has the foggiest where you are.”
“Prove it.”
“Ah I was forgetting you and your clone brother are Queens Council.”
“Give me the ring you’re wearing please grandad.”
“I can’t do that son.”
“Can’t, not a word in my vocabulary.”
“Why, you know more than I, what difference exactly is the ring going to make.”
“Mum is pretty wise, if she notices the ring it could be devastating mentally and morally in years to come.”
William removed the ring bearing the insignia of the Masonic lodge, he handed it to his grandson, Anthony dropped it into his right hand suit pocket. “There, all for nothing.”
“No grandad, you would have wanted to burden mum with your legacy, if you do that dad will act immediately to protect her, do you understand the consequences?”
William drew a big breath blowing back out in an obvious manner. “Yes, I certainly do, everyone is aware of your father’s power, especially me. I should be grateful for small mercies, some of the worst he has left alive. No doubt when I’m gone this will change.”
“You’re a victim grandad not a perpetrator, but with no attempt to intervene you are as guilty.”
“Only your father can intervene.”
“I must go grandad, the time I asked for is up. I’m sure mum will have a wonderful afternoon with you.”
“You’re efforts have not fallen on deaf ears, if I could change the past I would, only your father can change the future. Not many people would travel half way round the world for a two minute conversation.”
Anthony kissed his grandfather gently on the forehead then stepped back. “Have a good day grandad.” He walked to the wall, a panel opened and he vanished into the wall.
As the panel closed a door adjoining the library, there being a door in each wall, opened and in walked Jodi. “Dad,” she ran to her father, he stood and they embraced. Jodi walked the gardens with her father laughing and chatting arm in arm. The bouquet of the manicured garden and grounds reminded them of times past when Jodi was a little girl hand in hand with her father planning the future. Even the best laid plans can go astray, but managing past mistakes and moving on had always been the strategy.
Jodi covered her devastation well as her father left, she watched the van saunter down the drive into the fading evening light. On return to her temporary accommodation, she had become oblivious to Hurst, she even missed him when he attended the bathroom. She attempted to contact her husband unsuccessfully. The vigilante was busy taking his family under his wing.
