Echoes

by Angela Verdenius

  Walking the perimeter, Ryan checked-in with the security guards patrolling the grounds.

  So far, so good. Along with police presence, Wells Security guards slid quietly through the crowd, keeping an eye out for drugs and alcohol. That was the problem with places like this - alcohol and drugs. Namely people who couldn’t control themselves, got roaring drunk or doped out, picked fights and spoiled it for everyone else.

  Just outside the gate was a fenced off area with several big vans parked, the volunteers inside pouring water and coffee down the throats of drunk party-goers in an attempt to get something into them before ringing taxis to get them home. A security guard manned each van.

  Ryan watched Kelly manhandling one drunk to the gates.

  “Bitch!” he slurred. “I paid my money, I’m staying!” He took a swing at her.

  She retaliated quickly, kicking him behind the knee to bring him to the ground while holding his arm behind him, bringing it high enough up his back that the warning shaft of pain arrowed right through his drunken haze.

  Bending partially over him, but not close enough for him to hit her with his other arm if he was so inclined, she warned coolly, “You’re drunk. Taking a swing at me is attempted assault. You have two choices - I call the cops over and they lock you up, or you come quietly to the van, get something decent inside you and we call you a taxi and get you home. What’ll it be?”

  “I paid good - awk!” He scrabbled on the churned-up grass. “My arm!”

  “Choose,” Kelly said firmly.

  “Van! Van! Ow - my bloody arm!”

  Kelly hauled him effortlessly to his feet and kept moving, allowing his arm to come back to a more natural position, though she stayed one step behind him, alert to any sudden move on his part.

  “Hey!” A woman lurched up, her make-up running, her stance unsteady. “Hey, you got no right to be treating him that way!”

  A few passers-by glanced over, talking softly amongst themselves. Another couple stopped to watch.

  Kelly was assessing the situation with calm efficiency while keeping the man moving, making the woman follow her in the direction of the vans. Smart move, because it meant the van would be in-between the crowd and the drunk pair, out of sight and out of mind, and right where two security guards waited.

  But Ryan moved forward nevertheless, not wanting to give anyone looking to stick their bib in, time to join the trio.

  Moving up beside the woman, he looked down at her. “Move.”

  “Huh?” Blearily, she squinted up at him. “Wha…?”

  “Go now.”

  “You can’t-” She blinked.

  Coldly, Ryan continued to gaze down at her.

  Uneasily, she glanced away, huffed, couldn’t meet his eyes, wavered on the spot, then with another uneasy peek at him, she swore and stumbled off after her man and Kelly.

  Kelly gave Ryan a brief nod before disappearing around the front of the van with her two charges.

  Resuming his patrol, he touched the communicator in his ear. “Ryan. Report, Ben.”

  “Surveillance cameras don’t show anything illegal happening. I think you, Hank, and those two cops jumping that little drug dealing group before they could even get started put a dampener on the celebrations in that regard.”

  “Roger. Report, Marietta.”

  “Three drunks in the mobile drunk tanks. Some abusive language on the left two seats from the stage, but got it sorted out with minimal problem.”

  “Roger. Report, Richie.”

  “Paddy wagon went off with one stir-crazy woman after she tried to put her stiletto through her boyfriend’s brain. Ambo has the man, he’s doing fine, just a scratch. He’s going to the cop station after to see if he can get her released without charges sticking.”

  As one would after one’s girlfriend had tried to give him a lobotomy with the heel of her sky-high shoe.

  As Ryan slid through the darkness, his gaze sweeping the crowd and surroundings continuously, he checked-in with every member of the team - those doing the perimeter patrols, those moving continuously through the crowds looking to quell trouble before it could start, and those moving through the car park. Outside the concert ground Wells Security was also patrolling both on foot and car. In-between the cops moved.

  When the concert wound up at one in the morning, security waited until everyone had left, watching the cars and people, helping the cops with the odd drunk and troublemaker, guiding the taxis through the throng of party-goers. The night was a success security-wise. Fights didn’t get time to start before security or cops were on their heels. But the job wasn’t finished. Once everyone was gone, some of Wells Security remained to keep an eye on the grounds while people worked to pack everything up, remaining behind when some things were left until the next day. The job of security would continue until everything was packed and gone, which would be by midday.

  Ryan stayed until six in the morning and the next shift took over. Before he went home, he drove to Wells Security to write up the report and have it ready for Aaron.

  First, though, he went up the staircase to Control Centre, greeted the men, did a quick check before returning downstairs. Flicking on his computer, he let his email inbox load while he brought up the report form on screen and filled it in. Once completed, he filed it. Returning to the inbox, he prepared to deal with anything needing attention.

  Oh boy. There was an email with an attachment from Raymond to everyone in Wells Security all over the world. The subject line read ‘Those Were the Days’.

  Clicking on the attachment, Ryan watched it.

  It was a recording of Marietta in her younger days, somewhere between high school and her military entrance. At a party, hair dishevelled, hanging on to her friend, she was belting out to karaoke. A singer she wasn’t, but points for exuberance. It didn’t help when she started dancing. No doubt she thought she was doing pretty well, going by her confident swagger - right up until she leaped sideways and fell off the stage. Undaunted, she leapt right back up. Unfortunately, she didn’t notice the rip down the back of her skirt revealing a pair of panties with a bright pink frill right across her bum cheeks. Needless to say, when she bent over and wiggled her bum in time to the music, she was grinning at the boys yahooing and clapping, whistling and cheering, waving to them happily as she put a lot more effort into those wiggles and struts. There was no doubt what the young men were excited about - those cute panties with the pink lace ruffle. The lace actually bounced a little with every sway of her increasingly confident strut. The singing ended when a jealous, seething young woman leaped up on stage, took a dive for Marietta and they both went over backwards to disappear amidst a tangle of falling curtain. Beneath the heavy curtain would pop up a leg or arm now and again. Two bouncers rushed the stage and dragged the grappling couple out of sight. Marietta’s friend just watched, slack-jawed. The recording stopped abruptly.

  Not Marietta’s finest moment. Who knew how Raymond had gotten hold of the recording, but the man had his ways. He also took revenge seriously.

  Amused, Ryan switched off the computer, stood, slid his sunglasses on and walked out of the building to his car.

  The sun was up but the chill was still in the air. Definitely autumn. Grey clouds scudded across the sky, the hint of rain in the air. Ella’s car was already on one side of the two-car garage when he pulled in.

  He did like knowing she was here in his bed, his home. His sanctuary was warmer and welcoming since she’d moved in. Sometimes it felt like they’d never been apart all those years, it was so perfect, so comfortable and natural.

  He wondered how he’d ever walked away from her. Talk about not dealing with a problem, one that had emotionally and spiritually almost wrecked him, and in turn caused her so much pain. Never letting that happen ever again. Now he had his Ella back, he wasn’t going to lose her a second time.

  Walking inside through the connecting door between garage and kitchen, Ryan listened. Everything was quiet. After the night sh
ift she’d undoubtedly followed her normal pattern of showering and going straight to bed.

  Entering the bedroom, his gaze went to the big bed. Sure enough, Ella was a sweet little mound buried under the covers. Not-so-sweet, but welcome nevertheless, was Boof who was curled up on the bottom of the bed, giving him the one-eyed scrutiny he had perfected. His one ear flicked forward, back, and then he closed his eye and went back to sleep.

  Ryan gave him a quick pat, took a clean pair of boxers from the drawer and went out to his office, where he placed his boots neatly on the rack, his badge and other paraphernalia in the cupboard, and finally went to the shower. Not long after, dressed in boxers, he tossed the uniform into the laundry basket and padded barefoot to bed. Lifting the covers on his side, he slid in, welcoming the warmth.

  Ella stirred, stretched, blinked sleepily at him over her shoulder, a soft smile curving those plump lips. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself.” He leaned across, gave her a peck on the lips, dropped back against the pillow and opened his arm.

  She rolled over into the cradle of his arm, sighing blissfully as he gathered her against him. Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she nestled against him, hooked one soft thigh over his and went right back to sleep.

  Smiling, so contented he could have purred like Boof - yes, and just as rusty-sounding, no doubt - Ryan closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  ~*~

  Riding bodyguard on the mayor and some visiting politicians, Ryan communicated with the other security outside the fancy gathering in the great hall. The rich and influential mingled with the VIPs, and Wells Security mingled with them all, keeping watch, fading into the background so that they could observe and leap into action at a second’s notice.

  Many of those attending were nice, polite, but there were a certain few who were determined to be a pain in the arse. Aaron, drifting barely noticeable through the crowd in his black suit and tie, appeared at certain people’s elbows, had a quiet word, and though they stiffened, they soon pulled their heads in and continued doing what they were here to do while leaving security to do their job unencumbered.

  It wasn’t like anyone really knew who inside the great hall was security anyway, apart from those who needed to know. The Wells Security guards were dressed to blend in - men in suits, women in cocktail dresses, but all were armed in some unseen way. Mixing in were the politicians’ personal bodyguards as well, while outside uniformed Wells Security kept watch over the perimeter. Police were also nearby, everyone on alert for trouble and prepared to nip it in the bud before it started.

  What no one but the Wells Security knew was that a van stood nearby with five members of the Wells Security Armed Response and Retrieval team, all ready to go at Aaron or Ryan’s orders. Probably not necessary but Aaron was never one to overlook the smallest detail. If the worse happened, he was ready to move fast and hard.

  Standing against the wall where he had a good view of the great hall, Ryan was overlooked by many people. A skill he’d perfected, fading into the background, something he’d learned during his ops in the Commandos and later when working with outside agencies. Valuable when you had to be in public places but didn’t want to be noticed.

  The evening progressed, food and drink flowed, and Wells Security and other bodyguards watched over their charges until finally it started to taper off, people leaving as the evening grew to a close by one in the morning. As the VIPs and the rich left, those who didn’t have their own bodyguards attending were escorted back to their homes by Wells Security cars driving behind them.

  Finally, when all that was left were the catering and cleaning staff, a small team of security guards stayed behind to provide security to the workers until everyone left, then they’d go home.

  Aaron, Ryan and the rest of the team gathered near the work cars, while the Wells Security Armed Response and Retrieval team headed back to the private warehouse in the compound.

  “Glad that’s over.” Marietta leaned back against one of the cars. “Those speeches. Man, does anyone really listen to them?”

  “I thought you might bust out some dance moves.” Ben winked.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “To break the monotony.”

  “I’ll break someone all right.”

  “Oohh, tough talk for a dancer/singer sheila.”

  “Maybe you want to step up right here.” Marietta pointed to a spot directly in front of her. “I’m not above crushing nuts.”

  “Dearie me, does your boss know you threaten physical violence to co-workers?”

  Hands in his pockets, Aaron slid his eyes to Marietta but didn’t say a word.

  Standing with legs braced apart, Ryan noticed Richie sidle up.

  “So,” Richie said. “You wearing frilly knickers under that dress?”

  “You know your boss is right there listening to your sexual harassment, right?” Marietta retorted.

  Aaron just started checking messages on his mobile.

  Marietta jerked a thumb at Ryan. “And the second-in-command. He’s not happy, either.”

  Richie looked at Ryan’s inscrutable expression and laughed.

  She scowled at Ryan. “Why is that when I do something its sexual harassment and I’m punished with protocols or washing bloody cars, but when one of these clowns does something you don’t say a word?”

  Ryan just looked at her. The woman had a nerve, and she played it for all she was worth.

  “Boys’ club,” she growled.

  “Boys’ clubs like frilly knickers,” Richie retorted back.

  “Ohhh!” Her eyes widened in delight. “What colour frill is on your knickers?”

  “What?” His widened gaze ping-ponged between Marietta and Ben. “I don’t wear frilly-”

  “Riiiight,” Marietta drawled in supreme satisfaction.

  Ryan inwardly shook his head. The drongo had just left himself wide open.

  “Oh boy,” Ben said.

  “Boys’ club.” A gleam in her eyes, Marietta stabbed her finger towards Ben. “I bet your frill is red.”

  “I wear y-fronts,” Ben replied. “What’s in them only goes red when excited.”

  “Or from a STD.”

  “Maybe I should tell Raymond you’re interested in what undies he wears.”

  “That dick is not in the clear.”

  At that poor choice of words, Ben and Richie guffawed.

  Marietta huffed out a breath. “I still protest my punishment.”

  Obviously feeling safe again, Riche buffed the bonnet of the work car with the sleeve of his jacket. “But all the cars look so shiny, so beautiful. I think Aaron should make it part of your duties. In fact, maybe next time you could black the wheels?”

  “How about I start cracking nuts now?”

  “How about we start heading for home?” Ryan intervened calmly. While inwardly amused at the banter, it was time to wind the night up.

  “Good idea.” Ben straightened. “The missus intends to drag me off to some party tomorrow night.” He glanced at his watch, grimaced. “Tonight now. And I have to get up by nine in the morning in time to see the kids do some school thing.”

  “Ah, the life of a daddy.” Marietta straightened. “I’m sleeping in and have a leisurely evening planned.”

  Everyone started to peel off towards the work cars in which they’d arrived.

  Just before Marietta got into the car with Ben, Richie called out, “You could always invite Raymond!” right before he jumped into the car where Gail waited, chortling.

  “Raymond my arse.” Marietta caught Ryan’s steady regard and snapped a smart salute. “Going now, boss, and got my lips zipped.”

  Incorrigible. Ryan watched the cars pull out and drive away, Gail and Ben to drop Marietta and Richie home before continuing to Wells Security where they’d park the work cars in the eight car garage and retrieve their own cars to go home.

  Catching Aaron’s fleeting nod, Ryan got into the passenger seat of the work car Aaron personally used. Aaron s
lid behind the driver’s wheel, placed the mobile in the hands-free grip and started the engine.

  Turning onto the road, they headed back to Wells Security.

  Winding down the window, Ryan rested his elbow on the window sill, enjoying the chill breeze flowing past the wind deflectors.

  The comfortable silence was broken by Aaron’s mobile going off. Without taking his gaze from the road, he switched it on, leaving it in the hands-free grip. “Aaron.”

  “Felicity,” the feminine voice responded.

  Instantly both men were on the alert. Calling at this time of the morning would indicate something important.

  “Report,” Aaron said.

  “I’m pulling Rose out,” Felicity stated. “Call from the feds, somehow they’ve cracked the case tonight, got almost every name. With the newspapers getting hold of the sex ring rumour, they’re going to move now before people start going to ground. They’re going to raid every house on the list before the occupants wake up, including the judge’s mansion.”

  “Where are you and Rose now?”

  “In the car ready to go. As soon as I get the all-clear from the feds to indicate they’re coming up the driveway, we’re out of here. Can’t go now or it might alert the judge, though I made sure no one saw us come down to the garage. We’re locked in tight, key in the ignition.”

  “Your destination?”

  “The safe house.”

  “Ours or the feds?”

  “Feds. Has to be.”

  Aaron nodded. “Report when you’re safely away and when you arrive.”

  “Roger that.” The mobile went silent.

  “The next few hours around Melbourne are going to be interesting,” Ryan said.

  “Maybe not just Melbourne,” Aaron replied. “Now the feds have cracked it, once they get the individuals in and start interviewing, some of them will be seeking deals. This whole pack of cards will come tumbling down.”

  “And they’re going to be looking for scapegoats.” Ryan took the mobile from his pocket and dialled.

  “Kennedy,” the man answered on the first ring. “What’s up, Ryan?”

  “Case is cracking open now. Keep a close eye on Ella.”