American Crow

by Jack Lacey

  I broke free from cover and ran across the terrace. Behind a pyramid of bourbon barrels, I eyed the ground-floor windows closer up then spotted one half-open, fifteen or twenty metres to my left.

  A set of headlights returning from the ridge, persuaded me not to make for it...I cursed and pressed my back against the barrel stack, then watched the same jeep I’d seen earlier, work its way back to the house, steer around the central fountain a couple of times, then disappear down a side road.

  Just as I was about to move again, a light went on above illuminating the terrace...I looked up and eyed the lone figure at the window, then jogged back into the cover of the gardens worried that I might be seen…

  Gradually I edged my way around the back of the house, keeping to the shadows as best I could, before finally stepping out from behind a summer house onto an immaculate lawn. I eyed the single-storey house in the distance, located on the fringes of some dense woodland opposite. The place looked like servants’ quarters or a guesthouse, like a good place to check out first...

  Working my way from tree to tree, I painstakingly followed the service road that ran up to it, until I found myself crouched behind an SU-V parked a few metres away from the patrol vehicle that had passed me earlier. I scanned the building for signs of life then saw a light flicker on suddenly. A minute later I heard a toilet flush inside. Not long after that, the same two guards from the jeep came back out.

  ‘Shit...’

  I pulled in tighter to the SU-V and took them both in. They were smoking cigarettes, exchanging jovial banter and seemed relaxed. That was a good sign...I watched them head back to their jeep then stop for a while, seemingly enjoying the bright stars above them, before getting in and driving back up the road to carry out another tour of the estate.

  Seizing my chance, I sprinted over to the porch, pulled back the screen door then tried the main one slowly. It was open...I edged my way in quietly, walked down an empty hall, then found myself in a sparse-looking living room that looked desperate for a woman’s touch.

  I stared at the scattering of pornos on the table, one of which was open, revealing a woman who had more hair between her legs than on her head. I grimaced then clocked the half-empty bottle of bourbon lying close-by. Those guys sure knew how to have fun...

  I returned to the hallway then tried another door that was cracked open. Behind it was just a bland office kitted out with rows of monitors at head height. Inside smelt of stale body odour and strong coffee.

  I tried a few drawers on the central desk looking for something that resembled a house key without success. I looked up and tried a wall-mounted cupboard with the same result. I felt frustrated suddenly. If I couldn’t find one, I was going to have to break a window and take the risk of setting off the damned alarm.

  I eyed the monitors and their alternating shots. All seemed quiet inside the mansion and around the ranch save the odd guard walking along a corridor and the patrols doing their rounds on the estate...I left the office and headed for another door further down the hallway.

  As I gripped its handle, I felt my stomach tighten suddenly. Someone was waiting on the other side, I was sure of it...I fanned the door gently open and heard the snoring before I saw the scrunched-up figure on the bed. For a moment I hoped it might be Olivia, before the shape and smell of the person told me it was distinctly masculine...

  I crept in and stared at the guy lying fast asleep in bed, then at the white tape stuck across his nose. It was Tony Lutz. I glanced at my watch. Forty minutes had gone since Nancy had dropped me off…

  I walked slowly over to the edge of the bed and eased his gun out of the holster hanging from the bedpost. Then I slid the barrel inch by inch into his tight Kentucky mouth.

  His hand went to his face as if to swat some bothersome fly away. Then he coughed, opened one eye hazily, then the other, then stared in abject horror at the semi-automatic he was now suckling on.

  ‘Scream and I’m going to plaster your brains all over the headboard, okay?’ I whispered.

  He nodded dutifully.

  ‘How do you get into the main house? Key?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Swipe card?’

  He nodded and pointed to the card hanging from a cord on the back of the chair behind us.

  ‘Do I need a code?’

  He nodded again. And in four separate gestures gave me the number using his fingers.

  ‘Good boy.’

  I pulled the gun slowly away, allowing him to speak.

  ‘Are you going to kill me now?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You don’t give up do you, Limey?’ he said defiantly.

  ‘Where is she?’ I pushed.

  ‘She’s not here.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘She’s not here. Mr Corrigan had her moved...’

  ‘Where?’ I asked, sounding more menacing.

  ‘I don’t know. He took her out in his chopper. He takes people out in it all the time and they don’t come back, you get me? She’s probably dead already. Something of an irony that she came to us in the end, huh?’

  I ignored his taunts and moved onto my next question, feeling more and more anxious.

  ‘What floor is his bedroom on?’

  ‘Whose?’

  ‘Corrigan’s’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘You will, or I’m going to shoot your balls off and shove them into your mouth.’

  His eyes searched for mine for signs of weakness, hoping I was bluffing, but was met with an impenetrable wall this time. The job had moved on to a whole new level now. I was going to have to get nasty to get results. End of.

  ‘Where?’ I said lowering the gun to his genitals. ‘Last time,’ I pushed again, unsure if the gun was actually loaded.

  ‘Okay, okay…second floor, halfway along the front-side; fifth room from the stairs on the right. Jee-sus…’

  ‘Thanks,’ I replied, bringing the gun down hard across his face.

  I gagged him with a tie from the chair, then bound his arms and legs to the bedposts with some cord I’d yanked from the blinds. Next, I took the entry card for his suit jacket and jogged back out, anxious to get the hell out of there before stopping suddenly halfway down the hall. The guy looked roughly my size. That could be useful. It could help me get in unnoticed…

  I went back in and quickly undressed, taking out the most obvious of my piercings, then put his black trousers on, his stinking shirt, his tie and gun holster, then slid the gun into it, clipped his radio to my belt, picked up his jacket and locked the door behind me. Outside, I walked confidently up the drive then took a footpath immediately to my right, which cut its way across the lawn to some grandiose steps at the rear of the mansion.

  I reached the set of double doors unchallenged knowing I was about to reveal my presence directly to the camera above, then swiped the card carefully in the lock and waited for a light to start flashing green.

  A few seconds later it responded. I keyed the number in that Lutz had given, hoping it was correct. To my relief, a second light flashed three times then went a solid red. The lock clicked open. I was in...

  I stepped into the darkness, my head lowered, so as not to reveal anymore of myself as I had to, then walked purposefully down the tiled hallway, my hard-soled shoes echoing out noisily as I went.

  Feeling conspicuous, I took the first door to my left and found myself in a massive kitchen still warm from the day’s cooking. I scanned the space quickly, then walked over to the far end and opened a side-door. It opened out on a rectangular eating area, modest in decoration, with a long dining table running its length. I supposed it was where the staff ate...

  I tried another door in the far corner. Behind it was a spiral staircase disappearing into darkness. I pulled out Tony Lutz’s gun and worked my way up the metal treads as quietly as I could, until arriving at a tiny landing and a narrow door.

  I looked up at the continuing staircase twisting i
nto coal-black darkness and decided to try the one I’d arrived at. I gripped the handle and turned slowly. Through the crack in the door I could see that it opened out on the main corridor. Everything seemed quiet, just a few ceiling lights emitting a soft light to make it negotiable during the night...

  I stepped out and took in the collection of photographs hung from the walls along it. Some were in black and white depicting prize horses from the past, others more recent, involving Corrigan receiving an award at some glitzy dinner.

  I took a right and walked down to a large staircase where I scaled no more than two treads when the ear-piercing wail of a security alarm burst into life suddenly.

  ‘Shiiit...’

  Someone had clocked me, or Lutz had woken up and managed to free himself…I turned and ran back down the hall, then tried a random door as the heavy thump of footsteps raced up the stairs to investigate. Hurriedly, I stepped into the pitch-black room and reached for the switch. The light flickered slowly on. Thankfully, the bedroom was empty...

  I locked the door and listened to the commotion outside, then to doors opening and closing frantically, and the creaking of the old floorboards with the heavy foot traffic.

  ‘What’s happening?’ a disgruntled voice enquired, half-asleep.

  I pressed my ear against the door.

  ‘There seems to have been intruder on the premises, sir, but we’ve got it all under control now, so please go back to bed,’ a security guard replied calmly.

  Footsteps came and went again. The alarm fell silent. When it was deathly quiet again, I cracked open the door and eased myself back out into the corridor, gun raised.

  ‘Hey you!’ a guard yelled, appearing from nowhere.

  I sprinted back to the original door as a hail of bullets splintered the frame, then ran hard down the spiral staircase as fast as I could, through the dining area, across the kitchen and back outside onto the lawn, which now was chequered with squares of light as the house burst suddenly into life.

  After the servant’s quarters, I weaved my way through the woods as fast as I could, as frantic barking came at me from all directions

  ‘God damn it...’

  A few minutes later I’d broken free of the trees and was zigzagging my way back across the fields towards the same ridge I’d come in by, a good few hundred metres over from my original place of entry.

  The sound of dogs echoed out again. Then more gunshots...I glanced behind and saw two sets of headlights thundering through the darkness towards my position. I pushed myself harder, eventually reaching the road, just up from where Nancy had dropped me off at the beginning.

  Hands on knees, I drew in some desperate breaths then clambered over the ranch rails wearily, and eyed the faint outline of the pick-up in the distance, its lights switched off. Nancy had kept her side of the bargain. Thank god...

  I righted myself and jogged towards the truck, feeling exhausted. Then, as I neared to within thirty metres or so, the lights came on, the engine started up, and it began to pull out onto the road as if she was tired of waiting.

  ‘No...’

  I sprinted hard with everything I had, then leapt at the tailgate as the pick-up accelerated, slapping the tailgate hard as it was just pulling out of reach. I hit the asphalt hard with my momentum, raking the skin off my hands and chin, knocking the wind out of my lungs then rolled onto the grassy verge in a daze, temporarily stunned...

  I lay there grimacing for a second then looked up despondently to see Nancy continuing to drive away.

  ‘Fuck it...’

  I lowered my head in defeat, then glanced up again and saw the brake lights flicker on suddenly, a hundred metres further down the road. Quickly, I hauled myself up and ran haphazardly towards them like some desperate drunk, then arriving, flung the driver’s door open euphorically.

  ‘Nancy, am I glad to see you,’ I said, gasping for breath.

  She didn’t respond. I stared into the gloomy cab. There was a gun pointing at my mid-rift. Someone else was sitting by her side.

  ‘Get in,’ a menacing voice commanded, ‘it’s all over...’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘the basement’

  The cops weren’t going to be called, of that I was certain. Several hours later after being dragged down into the windowless basement I was surer than I could ever be. Corrigan was going to deal with us his own way. Kentucky style...

  A couple of security guards had brought us in through the rear entrance upon our arrival, then taken us down the main hallway, through another door to a staircase, which then headed down steeply to a well-stocked wine cellar.

  At its end, in the shadows, were a cluster of old Bourbon barrels laid on their bellies, which could be swung open as one, revealing a secret door behind them, that hid a flight of narrower stairs that went down to a second and deeper basement.

  When the light was finally switched on, we found ourselves in a large, rectangular room, constructed of painted black brickwork, a red tiled floor with a drainage channel cut into it, underneath a low oppressive ceiling, also painted black. Facing us, ominously, were a series of solid-looking metal doors with a viewing grill set into each upper portion.

  I stared at the seedy chamber bewildered, wondering what had played out within its walls then was manhandled over to one of them. Inside the cell I stood there in silence in the coal-black darkness processing what had just happened, then pressed my face against the grill to speak when I was sure we were alone.

  ‘Hey, you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, bit shook up, but intact.’

  ‘Well, you said that you wanted to spend some more time together?’ I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘Yeah, I just wanted to be able to see you while we were doing it though...’

  We both laughed nervously.

  ‘Do you think he’s going to let us go, call the police?’ Nancy said, sounding calm enough.

  ‘No. I don’t,’ I said honestly. ‘We’re going to have to find another way out of here...’

  ‘Oh my god, what have we got ourselves into, Blake?’

  ‘What have I got you into,’ I countered.

  I paced around like an animal and felt the dimensions of the two by three metre space, trying to get my head together. The walls were of solid brick, just like outside. They felt cold and damp. The floor was of the same construction. There was no obvious way out. I turned my attentions to the door. It was made of thick sheet metal and looked impervious to brute force.

  I sat down on the old bed in the corner and tried to focus. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out...

  ‘I think they’re coming back for us, Blake,’ Nancy whispered loudly as a faint light came on in the distance.

  ‘We’re going to get out of this mess. I promise you,’ I replied, feeling my skin tighten.

  ‘If we don’t, I just want you to know…’ she said, as if reading my mind, ‘that I’m so glad to have met you, Blake...’

  ‘Hey cut that crap out. We’re getting out of this, okay?’ I said unconvincingly.

  ‘You’re sure?’ she replied, her voice shaking like her body probably now was.

  I exhaled heavily.

  ‘After all the commotion with the break-in, they can’t just make us disappear, Nance. Someone would have notified the police. The cops are probably up there right now, looking for us…’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘I’m sure of it,’ I said, knowing my words sounded as hollow as I now felt.

  Hard-soled shoes descending the stairwell cut the conversation dead. I peered into the obsidian gloom, anxious to pre-empt what Corrigan had in store for us. It wasn’t looking good from where I was standing, that was for sure.

  I’d had the misfortune to have uncovered some pretty dark places over the years, places, where people had been held captive for months on end, sometimes years; hell holes, where people ended up being brainwashed and brutalized to within an inch of their lives. And this sinister basement had
that same ugly feel. There was a tangible oppressiveness lurking in the damp, squalid air…

  Another light came on, this time closer, breaking my thoughts. My eyelids fluttered for a few seconds as my sight adjusted to the brightness.

  Now, I could see two men standing in the doorway at the other end of the room. One was an enormous black guy, around six foot five, with wiry hair and wild eyes. The other, the polar opposite, was a pasty-looking Caucasian wearing a long face and a pinched nose. The sort whom you wouldn’t trust your pet with, let alone your children I thought...

  I watched them disappear into the back room for a moment, then return with an old gurney, which they then pushed into the space before us and locked in position.

  I eyed the thick leather straps hanging down ominously at each of the trolley’s corners and felt my mouth go dry. The black guy left again and came back with a camera on a tripod, which he then set up next to it.

  ‘What the...’

  The door scraped open at the top of the stairs again. A third set of footsteps sounded out, descending the wooden flight one tread at a time. I readied myself for Corrigan to appear, then was disappointed when he didn’t. The new guy was of similar age, but had a manicured goatee and grey slicked-back hair. He looked like some sort of doctor judging by the case he carried.

  I watched bewildered as he took his glasses off, wiped them carefully with a handkerchief pulled from his waistcoat pocket, then put them back on and nod succinctly to the two security guys opposite.

  ‘Get her out...’

  His voice was weary, but self-assured. The men turned and walked solemnly over to Nancy’s door. I heard the rattle of keys, then the metal hinges squeak as they opened it.

  ‘Get off of me, you bastards!’ she yelled as they stepped in to grab her.

  ‘Let go of her, you animals!’ I cried out, hearing her obvious distress.