by Malhar Patel
“Why don't we see what my security guards have to say about that?” A menacing glare washed over his eyes and he took a threatening step closer to her.
“OI!” came a shout from behind him.
Green turned around in time to be smashed in the jaw by Jack's heavy fist. His head snapped back as his body fell into the table of refreshments. “Leave my wife alone!” continued Jack, adrenaline fuelling him now. He kicked Green once in the gut and trying again, Green grabbed his leg and dragged him towards the ground.
Pulling a tablecloth and some wine bottles down with him, Jack crashed to the floor with a thud and landed on Green's leg. Red wine was splashed everywhere, making the scene appear far bloodier than it was.
As Green let out a moan, Jack scrambled over, Green having given him the opportunity he was looking for. He wiped his shirtsleeve hard against his leg and there was the faint sound of plastic breaking, so quiet that no one but Jack heard it. Pushing Green upright, he wrapped his hand around the man's mouth and let his sleeve linger over his nose. To the shocked guests watching the battle, it looked as if Jack was trying to suffocate the Chancellor.
Green began to swipe at Jack's face but Jack held on his hand tightly. As the attacks weakened, Jack brought his arm down until the joint dug hard into Green's throat. Rocking him forwards and backwards, he screamed out obscenities.
From across the room Pete saw the guard running in and stuck out his foot. The man ran right into it and lost his balance, yanking Pete’s ankle. He landed with a crack as his skull smashed into the floor. Of course nobody was watching that end of the room. All eyes were on Jason-Patrick Lazardou strangling Green.
After some more violent rocking, Jack screamed again. Nobody saw or heard Pete in the background, stunning the guard. Jack let Green go and he fell limply to the ground.
The crowd of onlookers gathered in a circle, everybody afraid to get involved but perfectly happy to gawp. Behind them, Pete dragged the guard into a dark side room. After a moment Anisha ran up to Green and shouted, “Somebody call an ambulance!”
On cue, Pete ran up to the scene and got out his phone before anybody else could. Loudly, he made the phone call while Anisha sobbed. “I need an ambulance at Michael Green's house now! Do you know where it is? Good, it's an emergency.”
She checked Green's pulse. Breaking down in tears she turned and shouted, “I think he's dead!” There was a loud rumble of revelation, which quickly gave way to shocked sobbing and muted faces. Pete ran up to the body and checked the pulse himself. Hanging his head, everybody knew that there was no doubt he was dead.
Anisha began yelling at Jack now, screaming and cursing at her murderous husband. He just stood there, a blank and lifeless look on his face that reflected the entire room.
There was a splintering of wood as a pair of paramedics ran through the door and into the living room with a stretcher. Barking orders at everybody they began palpating him and checking his pupils. Heaving him onto the stretcher they marched him out, not paying attention to all of the other guests who were following them.
As they loaded the stretcher onto the ambulance, the young, dark-haired woman checked his pulse. “He's dead.” There was a beeping sound and the older man checked his phone. “There's another one. We have to move.”
“What about the body.”
“It's in the ambulance, we don't have time to move it back. Keep it. We'll get someone at the hospital to pronounce him.” With that the doors slammed shut and all the guests watched as the ambulance speeded off.
The whole scene happened so suddenly and violently that everybody was still in shock. Nobody saw Jack, Pete and Anisha sneaking off through the back door.
The ambulance slowed down on a quiet road and pulled over at the corner. A few minutes went by in complete silence. Suddenly there was a knocking on the door and she pulled it back to reveal the trio, all there with smiling faces.
Gina had changed out of her paramedics' uniform now, and greeted them all with hugs. As they all shook hands with Tomlinson, they drove to the hospital where Pete's car was parked. Returning the ambulance to the hospital and changing vehicles, they headed off home, with Green's body in the boot.
Returning to the apartment complex was a relief but at some point they would have to drag Green's body up as well. No one wanted to think about it. Getting to Anisha's apartment, Tomlinson turned the doorknob, glad to be back at home. As the old door creaked open, a fist shot out of the darkness and caved his nose in.
Chapter 26
Tomlinson lay on the floor, passed out from the pain. Frank didn't even flinch as he and Jack dragged the bleeding man inside. His nose was crushed and pointed at a sickly angle and the blood around his nose had thickened to a paste that sat on his lip. Once they were inside, Anisha looked at Jack, searching for an explanation.
“I didn't want to worry you but sometime this afternoon I met up with Frank and I told him that we knew where Tomlinson was.” He looked across at Frank and continued. “I explained that I needed him to stay alive and after a lot of apologising, -”
“He convinced me not to hunt him down and beat him to death,” Frank interjected. “So the bottom line is I’m here now to help us find out exactly what's been going on for the last two weeks.”
“Hopefully what we did will show up on the news soon and the threat should be over, but this man still knows something he's not telling us.”
It was Frank's turn to be confused now. “What did you just do now? Why are you all dressed up?” Pete and Anisha looked for Jack's cue and he shrugged and told Frank the complete truth. The sniper at the hotel, the fingers in the box, what they had just done tonight: all of it. As Frank listened to their story, he slumped down on the couch and rubbed his leathery chin.
After a fleeting glance at Tomlinson to check he was still out cold, he stood up again. “You know I should be arresting every one of you.” Jack and his friends all looked down at the floor, their bodies standing perfectly still, and feared the worst. “But truth be told, there's something big happening here and we’ve all been dragged into it. I’m going to need your help to find out what the hell’s going on.”
Jack's face perked up and he walked over to Frank to shake his hand. At the same time Anisha went to find some twine or tape, to secure Green and Tomlinson. That reminded her about Green, still in Pete's car and she shuddered at the thought of having to keep him in her apartment, no more than a few feet from where she slept.
She hadn't exactly thought out this plan perfectly, and started wondering how long they could possibly keep a kidnapped politician in her apartment. And a high profile one at that.
Finding some twine and some packaging tape she headed back to the living room and told the men that someone had to move Green to the apartment before he woke up. Gina grimaced at the thought of such a grizzly job.
Pete and Jack looked at each other, neither of them eager to grapple with a kidnapped body. In the end however, both men were desperate for this night to end, and thus nodded weakly.
As they rode the elevator down, conversation was sparse. Jack and Pete were still bruised and broken from their fight with the security agent and in addition, Jack's back was throbbing from landing on Green's legs. Jack coughed to break the silence, and got ready to speak but Pete beat him to it. “I can't wait to get back to work tomorrow. How crazy is that.”
“I've seen the kind of girls you work with. If I were you I'd want to get back to work too!” The pair chuckled and Jack stopped as his ribs began to ache.
He gently rubbed his fingertips over them; they seemed to be okay, just bruised. Getting out at the basement floor, they looked around and saw that no one was in the car park and nobody was watching.
Pete unlocked his trunk and swung it open. As the darkness cleared the first thing either of them saw was Michael Green awake, his eyes blinking and his gun trained at their chests. As if on cue, the air grew colder and a frosty breeze swept past the three men. Pete and Jack stepped
back as the coughing, spluttering MP crawled out of the boot, the gun still pointed menacingly.
After a few deep breaths, the hushed tension was broken and he told them to raise their hands. Pete was sweating yet again. He was feeling light-headed and his feet began to quiver: he was sure they would give way any second now. Jack's heart began beating faster and faster, and he struggled to concentrate amidst the pounding rhythm.
Beaten and bruised as he was, Green remained ice cool, not asking any questions or showing any weakness. He could tell he had them scared, and with perverse pleasure, watched Pete take another small step back. A pathetic pair of would-be kidnappers quaking in their boots.
Green laughed and Pete saw his opportunity. He was far enough back now to kick the gun out of Green's hand and straight away Jack lunged at him. Green was much older than Jack and was still groggy; he didn't stand a chance. Jack speared into him and rammed him into the back bonnet, smacking down the open hood onto Green’s head with a dull thud.
As blood dripped from his crown he fought back by kneeing Jack in the gut. Jack clenched his teeth in pain but remained unphased, retaliating with an elbow to Green's face that sent him spinning over. With Green on the floor, Jack crouched down and began smacking him in the abdomen before standing up and stamping on the crippled man’s sternum and ribcage.
Green began spluttering in pain, defeated and having lost all will to fight. Pete, being the relative pacifist that he was, stayed a safe distance back and collected the gun. Jack straddled Green now and, delivering one final blow to his temple, knocked him out cold.
Tired and wincing in pain, he slumped down and started panting heavily. His shirt was ruined; torn and splattered in drops of red blood. His suit was also covered in blood smears but he wasn't bothered. After all, it wasn't his. Taking off his jacket and whipping it into a single rope, he tied Green's hands behind his back and then got to his feet as Pete heaved the man off the floor.
As they propped him up, they could feel the warm damp blood squelching underneath his clothes. Carrying Green upright around the hips, the pair dragged him back to the elevator and once inside, let him droop to the floor, tired from having to support the man.
They wagered that no one else would be using the lift at this time of night and they were right. Reaching their floor they dragged Green out across the ground, pulling him by his head. As Pete pulled him the short few metres, Jack rapped on the door and told them they were back. All that was left now was to clean up the bloody smears left in the hallway.
Anisha walked into her bedroom and yelped out as she saw Kim sleeping on the bed. It was loud enough to wake up the petite scientist, and she stirred as she saw Anisha approach. “I'm sorry Kim, I didn't realise you were in here.” Rubbing her eyes she replied,
“It's okay. I'm awake now. How did it go? Jack was saying before that he wasn't sure about his plan after finding out about that Rory guy.”
“It went well. We had to change things around a bit. We didn't hijack the ambulance, we found some uniforms inside and instead pretended to be the hospital workers. In place of the Dextrafizene we used the chemical ether stuff on Jack's shirt collar to knock out Green and make it look like he strangled him to death. Jack and Pete are bringing Green up now.”
“Great.” Kim smiled.
“So what happened to you?”
“I was working today and in the morning I noticed these men in black suits were everywhere, looking for the person who opened Green's safes. I tried hiding but eventually they found me.” Anisha inhaled sharply.
“What happened?”
“One of them was just about to kill me when Frank came out of nowhere and shot him down. Jack was there as well to find out how I was doing so he thought the three of us should come back here. I’m sorry. I know it’s your flat and your bed but I thought it would be safer, -”
“It’s okay.” Both women smiled.
“Oh Jack told Frank about Rory.”
“Yeah I heard. Well Jack should be safe for now, but we still want to find out who did this and stop them, to definitely make sure they don't kill him.”
Anisha found a new respect for Kim. She had expected the research scientist to start blubbering about her ordeal but to her credit she had stayed composed and so far hadn't mentioned being afraid once. They were interrupted by a wheezing sound and someone knocking on the door. Both girls ran out to the living room to see Pete and Jack walk in, looking even more beaten than before.
Anisha grabbed the twine from the coffee table and handed it to Jack who started to tie up Green. Pete just slumped onto the couch, tilted his head backwards and closed his eyes. Maybe he could finally get some sleep.
Frank blindfolded the beaten man and Jack began binding him in silver tape, while Anisha looked for a room to keep him in. Pete volunteered his bed temporarily and he was met with nods from all around. Having finished heaving the body for the final few yards, Jack fell to the floor, completely broken.
In the living room, Frank pulled Tomlinson up and propped him on a seat, tying him to it and then taping him in place. As he dragged the black steel framed chair into Pete's room he told the rest of the gang that it might be best if they put some music on. Grabbing a few glasses of cold water he walked into the room. Jack knew exactly what he planned to do, and wanted to play a part himself. Frank wasn't having any of it.
As a detective, Frank was as calm and level headed as they came. But when things got personal, there was no man alive who could deny him vengeance. In addition to his fiery will, Frank happened to be extremely skilful at the application of pain. By contrast, Jack could barely walk, and was in no state to torture Rory.
Frank snapped a tight black leather glove onto his right hand and slammed the door shut. Turning to Tomlinson, he splashed cold water onto his face and slapped him awake. He was a small man and though he was clearly in good shape, Frank saw the glint of fear in his eyes and knew he would break easily.
“Rory Tomlinson. I’m going to ask you a series of questions. If you do not give me the answer when I first ask you… well use your imagination. But believe me when I say this: one way or another you will tell me what I want to know.”
He paused for dramatic effect. “Who are you working for?” There was a second’s pause, which was too long for Frank, and he smashed his fist into the traitor’s chest.
Tomlinson let out an aching wheeze and his face contorted in pain. Frank knew the secret to torture was the gaps in between the physical violence, where the mind made the wounds hurt so much more.
He repeated the question, again to silence. This time he slowly got out a small knife from his pocket and smashed his hand down on Rory's, clamping it in place. With one graceful motion, the beaten man bellowed in pain as the blade cleanly swiped off his thumb, leaving a gushing red stump. The screams failed to deter Frank, who stared at Tomlinson coldly.
“Who told you to kill Tony Slade? Who told you to shoot Bob Winchester?” Again there was no answer and after a second Tomlinson spat watery blood onto Frank's shirt in defiance. Frank calmly put his knife down and stared into Tomlinson’s eyes for a second. Then, with one almighty kick, he stamped down on the captive man's genitals and heard a splat as one of his testicles split open. Thick fluid poured down his fancy black trousers, darkening them.
As tears began streaming from his eyes he screamed out, “He'll kill me if I tell you.” Frank looked at him with a dead-pan look and replied, “What do you think I'm going to do?”
With the eyes of a beast he clamped down his hand again and hacked off two more fingers at the knuckle, hearing the crunch of bones over the deafening screams. The noise suddenly waned out as he fell unconscious, and in the silence Frank casually adjusted his shirt collar. After a few minutes he splashed more water on Tomlinson and waited patiently for him to come too.
As soon as the man stirred awake, Frank at once slapped him hard across the face. Delivering a clean boot to the abdomen he smacked the traitor off of his chair and h
is head went crashing into the bed behind him. He had already hit the floor and been knocked out once, and Frank needed him awake.
As he propped his blood-splattered victim back up again, there was a crimson smear left on Pete's pale lime green sheets. Frank turned to Tomlinson and asked him one more time to answer his questions.
Gina tightly pressed her eyes closed and burrowed her head into Pete's shoulders as they heard yet another scream. After a second the door opened and Frank came out. “He's ready to talk.” Jack and Frank walked in and everybody else clamoured around the door, too guilty and afraid to look upon the blood-soaked man face to face.
After Frank got his knife out again, Tomlinson coughed out a slimy lump of blood and began to talk. His throat was raw and red from screaming and each one of his ribs felt like hot pokers, branding him every time he breathed.
“I was hired to make sure that you killed Michael Green. I was meant to try and trick you into thinking you were only pretending to kill him, when you were actually murdering him.”
He paused for a second and coughed again, viscous blood bubbling around his nose. “When Bob Winchester got too close to finding out the name of my employer, I found somebody to shoot him. I had to be with you to avoid being blamed.” He looked at Anisha but his hands were too bound and bloody to point. “And I tried framing you when I did it. When you two cops started getting close I had the same man try and get rid of you too.”
There was another pause and Jack could see Frank was shuddering, clenching his fists and trying not to kill him there and then. “The man I hired is called Dejean Marquis. His address should be on police record.”
His voice was sounded raspy now and every word was laboured. “My employer lives at the top of an apartment on the corner of Shaldon Drive, opposite where Trafalgar square used to be.” Frank and Jack looked at each other, then Frank regained his passive violent streak and ran the tip of the knife blade up to the base of Tomlinson's left lung. His clothes smelled putrid and were splattered in all sorts of blood and entrails.
