The Eternal Defiance

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The Eternal Defiance Page 3

by Sharon Lea Ford


  Smith’s fuse was running short today and barked at one of his men sitting on a bar stool at the other end of the kitchen bench shuffling a pack of cards. “Why can’t I get good help these days? What— am I running here, a kindergarten?”

  Dressed in a white muscle tee-shirt and cargo pants the goon nodded with agreement, and went back to his solo card game, only to leave the sound of his dog tags dangling around his neck clatter once more. He was shockingly deformed. The hollow dip in his shaved head and deep scar across one eye was a prominent reminder of his battle scars some time ago.

  Smith raised a hand and ran his manicured fingers through his coarse grey hair. He heaved a sigh of frustration, then shook his head and continued to finish dicing the carrots he was preparing for lunch.

  The goon glanced up, raised one eyebrow. “Why do you cook sir when you can have the best chefs in the world, cook for you?”

  Smith added a pinch of salt to the pot. “Because I find it soothing… in this shitty world of cut throat thieves who’ll stab you in the back the first chance they get. My mother… god rest her soul was the best cook… and she taught me everything I know. I wanted to be a chef as a lad, but… its turned out that wasn’t going to be the life for me.”

  Just as the colour returned back to normal on Smiths face from his outburst earlier, Quinn stepped through the open kitchen doors. With a bandaged nose and both eyes swollen like two purple puffer fish attached to his face, he stood in front of Smith. Obviously too scared to make eye contact, his head stooped low and didn’t say a word.

  Smith felt like he was about to blow a gasket once more when he hissed while shaking his hands in the air in disapproval. “He’s only one man. And your buddy… he’s just as much as a pussy as you!”

  After a moments silence from all parties Smith returned to the pot and continued to stir the vegetables, humming a tune from Luciano Pavarotti.

  “What do you want done with him sir?” the goon quietly interrupted while looking in Quinn’s direction.

  Calmly Smith turned toward Quinn, lifted the large carving knife off the bench, glanced at it, then back at Quinn. “No… too much of a mess,” he stated. He took just one glance at his man and said, “Shoot him will you?”

  Obedient he stood up, took out his revolver from its case under his arm and shot Quinn fair in the back of the head. The dead man dropped instantly leaving a puddle of blood seeping from the fatal bullet hole all over the white tiled floor.

  “Clean that up. He’s making a mess on my floor and stinking up the place!” Smith said and continued to stir the pot of vegetables undeterred by it all.

  Swiftly two men stepped into the kitchen, wrapped the body in a sheet and dragged it out leaving another to wipe up the blood off the floor.

  A second later a suited man entered the room with good news flashed across his face. “Brent’s back!”

  “Send him in,” Smith responded excitedly.

  Brent stepped through the doors, a tall mature gentleman with a distinctive look about him. “It’s done sir.”

  Smith paced around the kitchen bench and stepped toward him. “Are you certain?”

  “I shot him myself. I saw him fall to the ground with a bullet to the chest,” he replied.

  Satisfied Smith gave him a pat on the shoulder, “Ok… good job! I’ll set up a tap on your phone so as soon as Forbes calls you keep her talking so we can find out where she’s hiding out. I want that chip.”

  “Of course sir,” Brent answered and exited the kitchen submissively.

  With a cagey, but deformed grin the goon at the end of the kitchen bench glanced at his boss.

  Smith gazed back with an audible sneer. “I know… it’s not time to celebrate just yet. If anything had taught me over the years is that they’re not dead until you see the body with your own eyes... And you know perfectly what I’m talking about don’t you Ace?”

  Ace shook his head and agreed. “So true… so true...”

  CHAPTER NINE

  FBI headquarters

  “Yet again there was another drive-by shooting last night,” Agent Wilson stated as he threw the folder down on Agent Hall’s desk.

  “What the hell.”

  “It looks as if you’re getting a little snowed under there Agent, can’t keep up with the big boys huh? Maybe you should just give up and go and do what all the other housewives do. Whatever that may be and leave the important stuff for us men.”

  “Why don’t you just go and shove your head up your ass. Oh… that’s right you probably couldn’t find it if you tried,” Agent Hall responded, and sent the rest of the Agents in the room into hysterics.

  Special Agent Piper Hall was transferred to the special organized crime unit six months ago and since working in the unit which the majority were males. She had cracked four major crime syndicates, but still found some of her peers to be chauvinistic pigs, including one Agent Wilson in particular, and felt she still had some way to go before proving her worth.

  Her latest case was working out to be quite difficult though. Until the name King had popped up and appeared back on the scene. Gees… I haven’t heard that name in a while. Where have you been hiding? And what is your connection with Johnny Daniels and now Smith? She thought.

  Agent Hall flicked through the current files that were piled up on her desk, and then grabbed the latest one that the Pig, as she likes to refer to him had left there moments ago.

  In the report it stated. One Caucasian male in his late-twenties walked into the Dog Crew nightclub, messed up a couple of guys, including a bouncer who was seven foot tall and over 500lbs.

  The report continued to say. He then dragged a Caucasian female in her mid-twenties out of the club who they later identified to be involved with one of the mob bosses, Willy Smith.

  Agent Hall read on. Some witness outside the club have reported that soon after the couple had left the man was gunned down on the street as he attempted to enter an unknown vehicle. But the witness then alleged that within minutes they noticed the vehicle leave the scene in a hurry before the police were called. Hum… interesting.

  Agent Hall’s desk was directly opposite Agent Wilson’s and as she glanced up she couldn’t help notice the conniving and scheming look on the Pigs face. If ever there were a dirty cop in this unit he’d have to be the prime target, she speculated secretly to herself.

  “What— you think you’ve solved another case?” Wilson commented with a sarcastic tone.

  Busted… When Hall realized she had been discovered staring at the pig she responded and blew him a mocking kiss.

  “Get a room you two…” someone yelled out.

  “Ugh… don’t make me sick. I wouldn’t share a bed with that mongrel. You wouldn’t know what kind of diseases you’d wake up with!

  And the whole room began to laugh once more. It seemed that Agents Hall and Wilson’s noticeable hatred for each other was now a standing joke for the rest of the unit.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Blake woke suddenly to the sounds of gun shots which echoed in the surrounding meadows.

  She jumped out of bed in fear as another shot was heard not too far away and the systematic sounds made her realize that it was just target practice.

  She pulled the heavy blinds across, letting the warmth of the sun burst in. Relieved… she looked out the second floor window and noticed Harrison firing a few rounds into a nearby dummy target. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d retreated to his homestead while he took time to recover from his gunshot wound.

  Nice… she thought, but way too dangerous for her. And she still needed to get paid for the microchip.

  It was time to call Brent and see if all the crap had blown over. Knowing quite well Smith wanted the chip, but got greedy and wouldn’t pay the asking price for it. And now with a target on her head she wasn’t sure who to trust. What does this man want from her? He could have turned her in and got paid, but it looks as if they both now have to look out for one another. One thin
gs for sure, she’ll need to keep quiet about the information she has in her possession. If Harrison was ex-military which was most likely she thought, then maybe he would do anything to retrieve the microchip as well. After mailing the chip, she thought she’d be safe for now.

  Blake shoved some clothes on that Harry had kindly found, possible from an ex-girlfriend she assumed. And even some pyjamas. Not that she’d ever worn pyjamas before. And all the while he pretended to be conservative, making her sleep in separate bedrooms. She knew it wouldn’t be long before he gave into her appealing charms she thought as she left the room and strolled down stairs to use the phone in Harry’s study.

  This huge house seems a bit of a waste for only one person she believed as she picked up the receiver on the phone and then stopped dead in her tracks. Bloody hell, what are you thinking? He was hired by your boss to snuff you out, for Pete’s sake. What makes you think he’s even interested in you? No… I don’t think I’d be interested either! So… you’d better get those romantic thoughts right out of your head, quick smart.

  Blake dialled Brent’s mobile number and waited for him to pick up.

  ** *

  Brent sat in one of the lounge chairs in the living room and read the mornings newspaper. The same went for a couple of his comrade’s while waiting to receive their daily jobs which was usually visiting some poor unsuspecting chump who hadn’t paid up the money they’d owed in time.

  Smith ran a profitable money loaning business who nearly everyone he’d dealt with was so scared of what he would do to them if they didn’t pay on time. Smith had a reputation of been merciless and unforgiving if you got on the wrong side of him and Brent had seen most of his dirty trail of dead clients and one that Brent didn’t want to end up on the wrong side of.

  Brent’s top shirt pocket began to vibrate from an in-coming call on his mobile phone. He swiped it open and viewed the caller identification.

  Reluctantly he rushed to tell his boss who was in the next room. Brent always did have a soft spot for Blake, but… knew that someday the pretty girl was going to slip up and today… it seemed was that day.

  “Sir… its Forbes…”

  Smith pointed to his man. The techie specialist quickly jumped on the laptop to trace the call. “Keep her on for as long as you can and just act natural!” the techie whispered.

  Brent nervously answered the call. “Hey sweetie, what’s up?”

  “Hey yourself, how’s it going there in the underworld?” as Smith’s home was well known for by his employees.

  “Where are you?” Brent asked, but predictably he knew he wasn’t going to get a truthful answer.

  “You know I can’t tell you! How’s the boss, still gunning for me?” Blake responded with another question.

  “Um… you know the boss! What about King, I heard he was gunned down outside the club?” Brent asked.

  “How’d you hear about that…? Unless… the boss had something to do with it,” she replied suspiciously, but not giving away any direct info.

  The techie pointed to Smith to confirm he had the trace.

  “Got to go… it’s been a pleasure to know you.” And Blake’s voice dropped out.

  By this stage Smith was certain King had survived and now harbouring miss Forbes. “Brent I’ll leave the details up to you. Go tonight, I need that chip… and there'll be a nice bonus in it for you if you bring me back both their heads in a box,” Smith proposed.

  Brent nodded in agreement and left to prepare for the execution of his soon to be departed comrade.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The clouds shimmered across the brightly lit moon as Harrison stood outside on the back porch and watched the summer night sky. The back screen security door opened and Blake approached with two cold glasses of bubbly. “What’s the occasion?” he asked, feeling a little like he’d been avoiding his beautiful guest for the past two weeks.

  “Nothing… I just felt like you could do with some relaxing and some company from… a gal who… has a thing for handsome, precarious assassin’s such as yourself.”

  “Well Madame if I didn’t know better, I’d think that you were trying to get me drunk?” Harry asked with a flirtatious grin and then took a sip from his glass.

  “Is it working?” she responded.

  Gradually he turned and stared back at the glistening night sky with one thought on his mind. Don’t do it. She’ll only be trouble and you know it! But his head wasn’t listening to a word of it. “I’ll get back to you after I’ve finished my glass.”

  “I’ve got a question for you,” she uttered un-expectantly.

  “Yeah… what’s that?”

  “How much was Smith paying you to collect me?”

  Harrison cocked an eyebrow, “Ur…twenty thousand.”

  “What.” She gasped and then let out a tiny chuckle, “I didn’t think I was worth that much?”

  “I was wondering that myself. I’m suspecting there was another reason for that amount of large cash he was offering.”

  Blake began to look a little nervous he detected. “So what does he want from you?” he asked curiously.

  The long silent pause hinted that she wasn’t going to spill the beans just yet. “All I know is that I’ve got a mark on my own back now and my plans to get out of this stinking mess has just gone down the toilet,” she stated.

  “Okay… don’t get your panties in a knot. I was just wondering.”

  “Excuse me you arrogant fool! I can look after myself, I have… been for years. I reckon I could take you on any day,” Blake spat out with a revengeful tone.

  “Yeah right… I might just take you up on that one day sweet cheeks,” he replied with a condescending manner.

  He could see the rage across her face and thought she was going hurdle herself at him at any moment. “Come on then sweetheart why don’t you show me what you’re made of,” he said taunting her a little more.

  Expressly she gave him a glare with the look of daggers in her eyes and contempt in her heart. “Okay, right now then. I’ll show you exactly what I can do to you,” she ranted.

  “It’s okay baby. I’m just taking the micky out of you. Settle! I’m much more of a lover than a fighter. I’d rather have you wrapped around my arms than have you beat me to a pulp,” Harrison responded teasingly.

  “You bastard…” she snapped.

  They both stood there in a silent glare for a moment playing a game of chicken to see who was going to look away first. Harry couldn’t get over the sexual tension between them; he knew he was going to have to nip it in the butt soon before it does him in.

  There was something about this woman that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He could see her thoughts running through her head and knew she was hiding something. Eventually he’d have to get the truth out of her, but how much time it was going to take he wasn’t certain. And how much time he was going to be able to keep from bedding the beauty.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  An hour had passed since their intense chat on the back porch and Harrison felt there were still some un-answered questions that needed to be addressed before the night was over.

  He inquisitively watched Blake from the dining table stack the dinner plates in the dishwasher, and had to keep reminding himself to not get aroused as her curves moved in front of him. Every time she’d bend over he’d get a sneak peak of bear skin showing between her jeans and t-shirt. And it was beginning to drive him crazy. When unexpectedly his mobile phone beeped loudly, breaking the silence and brought him back to reality.

  He reached into his pocket and flipped it open. The message read, Mr King, I have a new job for you. Apparently when you did the Daniel’s job a month ago, you left a witness. An exotic dancer named “Candy” who is involved with the mob boss Anthony Deak’s. You must have pissed the guy off and upset one of his girls when you executed his cousin and now he’s gunning for your head. Job one is to eliminate the witness so as to leave no trail back to the agency. Job two is a little
more complex and worth Ten million if you want it, so I’m guessing retirement could be in your near future if you decide to take it. I’ll email you all the details now and give you a couple of days to prepare.

  Harrison snapped the mobile phone shut and placed it on the table in front of him.

  “You look a little uneasy, everything okay?” Blake asked and sat down in the dining chair beside him.

  “Of course, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve got a new assignment. And in this business you’d be mad if didn’t think you’d piss off a few people now and then.”

  “That’s true, but it’s not like you need the cash or anything. I thought you’d be laying low for a while just until… well you know… things blow over,” she replied.

  “I have to do this one last job, maybe two. I’ve got a clean-up job to attend to and then... maybe one last job that’ll set us up for life which… I could probably do with some help if you’re interested?”

  Her face had a look of surprise. “Us… So is everything forgiven then with us?”

  Harry’s mind scrambled for an answer. Shit… I didn’t mean to say us. It just slipped out. I must have stronger feelings for this girl, more than I originally thought. “There’s a few million in it for you if you want to take on the job,” he declared attempting to cover up his slip of the tongue.

  “Sure baby I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but I can handle a gun. You don’t run with the hood for as many years as I have to not learn a thing or two to defend yourself.”

  Slowly he rolled his eyes at her and gave her an impudent glare. “We’ll see!”

  They studied the text message on his phone for a moment when it hit him. “There all connected! Smith, Deak’s and Daniel’s, it’s all coming together now. John Daniels is Smith’s half-brother and Deak’s must be connected to the others somehow. I’m betting Smith hired me to collect you that night, because he knew exactly where I was going to be and approximately when. It was a payback, bloody hell!”

 

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