Present Day
Simmons steered his car into Frank’s drive. The mysterious black van he’d seen earlier was no longer parked at the end of the drive, but further up, next to Frank’s Jag. Perhaps they had gone somewhere and returned.
With Kayn.
Simmons slammed his door shut and walked briskly around the house, toward the back. It was mid-afternoon and the weather thus far was holding – there was even a break or two in the clouds, allowing the sun to shine through the otherwise dull grey day. And yet, there was an eerie stillness about the place, a calm-before-the-storm feeling. Simmons was half way across the lawn when he heard a voice behind him.
‘Hey!’
He turned and saw three well-built men, dressed in black, inside Frank’s kitchen, sitting on the worktops. One of them had stepped out through the open door and was coming toward him across the lawn.
‘Who are you?’ he shouted.
Simmons noticed that he wore an earpiece for short-range communication.
‘I’m a friend of Frank’s,’ he answered. ‘My name is Simmons.’
The man’s hard face softened by degrees as he reached him. He towered above Simmons, nodding toward the barn at the end of the garden.
‘They’re expecting you,’ he said. ‘But you’ll have to let me search you first.’
Simmons looked up at him, shrugged, spread his arms out from his sides. The big man patted him down, quickly and expertly. Simmons was relieved that he had skipped the groin-patting. The man stopped at his jacked pocket and pulled out Simmons’ cell phone.
‘This stays here,’ he said.
Simmons nodded, looking toward the other men in the kitchen.
When he turned, the man was already walking off in the direction of the barn. Simmons had to run after him, and then jog to keep up with his pace.
When they reached the barn door, the man knocked hard and waited. Simmons wondered about him, as they waited. His clothes were black and his hair short. There was no mistaking the military look. He seemed dangerous.
Frank opened the door slightly and peered out at them, smiling when he saw Simmons.
‘Ah! The discoverer of wonders! Come in, Pete. Come in and meet Feynmann.’
Simmons did not shake Feynmann’s hand, nor did he acknowledge his half-hearted nod. It was no secret that there was no love lost between them. Feynmann had put on a lot of weight since Simmons had last seen him. Perhaps he had become a victim of an obsessive eating disorder. The thought improved Simmons’ mood slightly.
The barn inside was surprisingly small - much smaller than he had expected. It stank of Frank’s stale cigar smoke. The furniture was a compilation of disused items from one of Frank’s recent office makeovers, which had found a second lease of life here. Bulky cabinets lined two of the walls, and a lightwood table with mismatching chairs took up a corner. Half drunk mugs of cold coffee and a full ashtray lay on the table, amongst the debris of scattered notepaper. Simmons could see that they had been busy making plans. An array of gadgets – no doubt Feynmann’s – lay scattered on top of a DIY table, plugged into a laptop.
In the centre of the room was Kayn, strapped to a chair, gagged and struggling against his bonds.
Simmons was taken aback at the sight of the man, at the way his eyes seemed to be almost popping out of his sockets, at the muffled sounds of his screaming. Watching him, he felt the sudden urge to release him.
‘He’s been like this since they brought him in,’ Frank said, shaking his head sadly. ‘It’s going to be more difficult than I would have liked.’
Feynmann grinned behind him, holding a syringe loaded with a clear liquid.
‘A little something to calm his nerves,’ he explained when he caught Simmons’ gaze. Feynmann administered the fluid to Kayn’s arm and his struggles seemed to lessen by degrees.
‘What about those men out there, Frank? Who are they?’
‘Hired muscle,’ he answered. ‘Feynmann arranged it.’ Feynmann smiled over at Simmons, withdrawing the needle.
‘Common practice,’ he said. ‘Under the circumstances, the Minister-in-Charge would have placed Kayn under special branch surveillance right away, at least until certain points were checked out and cleared. After that, he would have probably issued an arrest order.’
‘Feynmann here has agreed to give us a little time with Kayn before the MOD is alerted,’ Frank explained.
Simmons looked from one to the other.
‘You’re doing this in secret?’
Frank sighed.
‘We’ve got a little head start, that’s all. After that, the military can have him all to themselves.’
‘What about all that you said back there about the threat to national security, Frank? If it bothers you so much, how come you’re not calling the MOD right now?’
Frank eyed him coldly.
‘Pete, you’re being an imbecile again. What makes you think that any of us will have access to Kayn once the military get involved?’
‘That’s exactly my point, Frank! Why do you want exclusive access to Kayn?’
Frank seemed about to explode.
Feynmann went back to his gadgets, ignoring the two of them. After only a moment, he returned from the corner, holding another syringe and a small glass bottle filled with a fine blue liquid.
‘We’re all scientist here,’ Frank said, forcing himself to calm down. ‘We all have a curiosity to satisfy. Yours is as deep as mine, Pete, and don’t try to deny it. Feynmann here agreed to loan Kayn to us for twenty-four hours. After that, he calls the MOD and we all pretend nothing ever happened. We will never see or hear about Kayn after that.’
Simmons listened sullenly, watching Frank light another cigar. Deep down, he knew Frank was right. This was their only chance to get a glimpse of the miracle.
‘Excuse me, gents,’ Feynmann smiled, making toward the door. ‘Nature calls.’
When they were alone, Frank went over to Feynmann’s corner, where he kept his artefacts. After a moment’s pause, Simmons joined him.
‘Frank,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘I owe you an apology. I think I misjudged you and I’m sorry.’
Frank turned around with a grin and patted his shoulder.
‘We’re all under tremendous stress, Pete. Now, let me bring you up to scratch. Feynmann is sure that the MOD is not aware of Kayn. We already know about Adain being a fake. There is another surveillance van out there as we speak, looking for him. Feynmann managed to “borrow” two of them, with a handful of trainees - those gorillas you saw out there,’ he motioned toward the door.
‘Feynmann thinks Kayn is not one of ours,’ Frank continued. ‘He already ran a check against the MOD’s international list of known “bugs”, as they call them. That includes sleepers as well as active known spies. In short: he could be anybody’s. Perhaps he’s working for a private outfit, right here in this country. Feynmann is also investigating who might be able to afford developing this kind of technology.’
‘What if he turns out not to be a spy?’ Simmons asked.
‘What else can he be, Pete? I don’t go for the freak idea. This is no accident.’
Simmons was pensive. Frank had a point: there was two of them, counting Adain. The odds of this being a freak of nature were astronomical, if not downright impossible.
‘So what happens if he turns out to be from the opposition?’
Frank shrugged.
‘He’s safe as long as he’s got something our government wants. After that, I really don’t know. Feynmann won’t comment on that.’
‘Just tell me,’ Simmons said, ‘what does Feynmann get out of all this? Why is he going out on a limb for you like this?’
Frank rubbed his thumb against his middle finger.
‘Money. What else? Feynmann gets a fat cheque for his trouble.’
‘Jesus, Frank. How much have you paid him?’
Frank winked at him.
‘Not that much. The man was always cheap.’
> They shared a grin then, on Feynmann. And then the door opened and he came in, out of the dull grey afternoon.
‘Okay, gents,’ he said, ambling his ample frame toward them. ‘Let’s begin.’
From the start, Feynmann was pretty much in charge of things. Simmons watched, curious despite himself, wondering what the man could do.
Simply questioning Kayn was not an option. He would start screaming the moment his gag was removed. Instead, Feynmann would resort to hypnotism once the strong sedative he had administered Kayn took full effect. Presently, Kayn ceased his struggling and lay still. A blanket was placed over him to compensate for the heat loss that would ensure during regression. Then, Feynmann rewound him back in time like a clock.
Kayn was under.
‘What is your name?’ Feynmann asked him.
‘Kayn.’
It was eerie to watch a man who had been acting like a wild animal answer a question so coherently and passively.
‘Adain told the truth about that, then,’ whispered Frank.
‘Who is Adain?’ Feynmann continued.
Kayn did not respond.
Feynmann repeated the question.
Kayn frowned, as if deep in thought.
‘I don’t know Adain,’ he answered.
‘Maybe it’s only a cover name,’ Frank pointed out.
‘Who do you work for?’ Feynmann pressed.
Kayn did not answer, but frowned deeply once again.
Again, Feynmann repeated the question.
Kayn could not remember.
Feynmann probed Kayn about his childhood, about his vices, about his country, about his family and everyday life, but he drew a blank every time. Kayn simply could not remember.
‘Beyond a point, his mind seems to be blank,’ Feynmann told them, looking over at them, scowling. ‘I have never seen something like this before.’
Simmons found himself questioning his morals as he watched the helpless man lying comatose-like beneath Feynmann, who hacked at his mind like a carrion bird. His sense of guilt grew as he realised that, despite his thoughts, he felt nonetheless caught up in the excitement of the operation. Worse still was the fact that he was prepared to sacrifice a few of his morals to find out Kayn’s every secret. He felt like a necromancer.
Two hours passed quickly and Feynmann called for the first break. He was sweating like a pig. They sat around the table, damp and worked up. Frank was chain-smoking to calm himself down. He went outside and returned with a tray of fresh coffees. Simons could not recall ever seeing him this stressed out.
‘Perhaps he has been brainwashed,’ Frank was saying. ‘It makes sense. If Kayn was your property, you wouldn’t want him spilling the beans if he got caught.’
Feynmann nodded.
‘Perhaps the blank is some kind of mind block, a failsafe. Whatever he knows, is behind that blank.’
‘Then we have to break thought it,’ Frank said determinedly.
‘Give it up, Frank,’ Simmons pleaded. The men looked at him in surprise.
‘And let the military get hold of him?’ Frank barked. ‘Not without first trying!’
‘What if there isn’t a block?’ Simmons countered.
Frank’s eyes flashed and Simmons suddenly wondered what other thoughts might be in his head.
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Frank snapped. ‘The man has to have a past, Pete.’
‘What if he’s not a man?’
Frank’s pupils dilated, his jaw clenched. He laughed out loud, a shrill laugh.
‘Somebody is making androids. Or cyborgs, surrounded by living tissue. Is that what you think?’
Simmons looked across at Feynmann.
Feynmann shook his head. His chins wobbled.
‘Not this perfect,’ he said. ‘And clones are out too, before you say it.’
There was a knock on the door. All three of them jumped, looked at each other, uncertain. Finally, Frank went over and opened it.
It was one of the surveillance men. Through the open door, Simmons could see that another black van had joined the one in the drive.
‘We’ve found him,’ said the man at the door.
Frank turned to the others, exhilarated.
‘They’ve got Adain!’ he shouted.
Feynmann smiled, nodding at Simmons.
But the surveillance man was looking past Frank into the room, a strange look on his face, pointing at Kayn.
‘The guy we’ve got, looks just like him.’
‘Shit!’ Frank was cursing, when they brought the second man into the barn. It was Kayn. He had been bound and gagged because, the men said, he kicked like a donkey.
Simmons looked at Frank in disbelief. This was the Kayn that they had seen in his office: crazy, screaming, wriggling.
Feynmann stared, open-jawed.
‘Shit, Pete,’ Frank was saying. ‘There’s fucking two of them! What if you’re right? Shit! What if they’re being manufactured at will?’
He turned to Feynmann, his eyes wide.
‘What now?’ he asked him.
Feynmann shook his head, his eyes wide. ‘This is beyond me,’ he said. ‘I think we have a situation here, Frank. I’m calling the military.’
‘You promised me twenty-four hours, you son of a bitch!’ Frank barked. ‘And I paid you for your time.’
Feynmann grew bright red.
‘Frank, circumstances have changed,’ he spat back. ‘The sort of time we’re talking about now is spent in the slammer, if we get caught. I’m calling the MOD whether you like it or not.’
‘I don’t,’ said Frank, pulling out the pistol from his pocket.
Feynmann eyed him in disbelief. Simmons jumped back, his eyes wide.
‘Whoa, Frank, watch what you’re doing with that-’
‘Shut up, Pete. And stay out of this. And you,’ he waved the gun at Feynmann. ‘Get our new Kayn ready to go under.’
Feynmann stared at the gun.
‘You’re making a huge mistake, Frank. Put the gun down and we’ll forget all about this.’
‘Put him under,’ Frank ordered.
Feynmann obeyed, moving surprisingly quick for his size across to his makeshift lab in the corner. Simmons was terrified, standing in the corner, unable to move or speak.
There was another knock on the door. It was an urgent knock. Frank cursed, keeping his gun aimed at Feynmann, who turned and watched from the corner of the room.
Frank motioned Simmons to open the door.
Simmons looked at the door, then back at Frank, at the gun in his hand. He was shaking.
‘Open the fucking door!’ Frank screamed.
Simmons was galvanised into action. He ran to the door, and yanked it open. It was the man that had searched him earlier. He was panting from his run across the lawn.
‘It’s all over the news!’ he gasped. ‘The man who vanishes is on the news!’
Frank knew it was all over then. Feynmann told him it was just a matter of time before the military caught up with them. The black vans moved out, and with them Feynmann and his surveillance team, putting as much distance between themselves and Kayn as possible before questions were asked.
Frank watched them leave, powerless, the gun in his hand, hanging limp.
Then he turned on Simmons.
‘You stupid shit! You went to the media! All your outrage and your accusations were nothing but a diversion from your own motives, you worm!’
The gun was suddenly pointing at him.
Simmons backed up into the room, hands out in front of him.
‘Please,’ he croaked. ‘It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything. I swear.’
‘You went to Miriam, didn’t you? Did you think this would redeem your inadequacy? Did you think your great story would buy you her love back?’
Simmons gaped at him, his hands up in the air, shaking.
‘I swear I didn’t do it, Frank. Please.’
‘Get out of here!’ Frank spat.
Simmons moved sl
owly toward the door, keeping his eyes on Frank, wondering what would become of the two Kayns, but he didn’t dare ask. He just wanted to put as much distance between him and Frank as possible. He found the door handle, his eyes still fixed on Frank, and opened the door all the way in, slowly. Frank’s expression changed, from anger to surprise. His mouth fell open. He was looking beyond Simmons, out of the door.
Instinctively, Simmons jumped away from the door, turning as he did. Adain was standing on the threshold, smiling his confident smile.
He stepped in.
‘Have you worked it out yet, gentlemen?’
Frank raised his gun and pointed it at Adain. His hand was shaking badly.
‘Come in, Adain,’ he said between clenched teeth. ‘Please, enlighten us.’
Simmons stepped back further into the corner, moving out of Adain’s path.
Adain was dressed in a dark suit, with his thick blonde hair lose, falling over his broad shoulders.
‘You realise you cannot kill us,’ he said, walking over to the centre of the barn, where both Kayns sat, bound tightly. He stooped over the non-sedated Kayn and put his hand on his chest, as if to calm him. Kayn thrashed at his bonds, screaming behind his gag.
‘This one is scared of his own shadow,’ Adain said, moving away from him toward the other Kayn who was bound to the chair. He placed his hand on his head. Kayn turned and looked up at him for a long moment. Adain stared deeply into his eyes, expectantly.
‘Remember me, Kayn? Remember Dayna?’
But Kayn stared back at him, without registering recognition.
‘He’s pumped full of drugs,’ Frank said.
Adain glared at him.
‘I saw what happened at the tube station,’ Frank said.
Adain smiled.
‘You’re not MOD, are you?’ Frank said, trying to aim the pistol at his chest.
Adain grinned wider, shook his head.
‘No, of course not. That was just a game. And so was your pretty little wife.’
Frank scowled at him, wondering at his meaning.
‘You know Liz?’
Adain raised his eyebrows.
‘Know her? Why, it was she who told me what you were up to here, in a fashion. That’s where I figured I’d find Kayn. But not both of them, mind you. That is a bonus. Now I just have one more to find.’
The Man Who Vanishes Page 9
