by Arno Joubert
Evelyn nodded. “I’m doing all I can, Mister Fitch. These Interpol guys are making it difficult, everything needs to be channeled through this guy called Laiveaux.”
He snorted. “Well, you better get on top of it.” He cut a piece of the marbled meat and popped it in his mouth. “And I need my laptop,” he said as he chewed carefully. His jaw still hurt, but at least he could eat.
“I have it outside,” she said, filling the tray with his empty plates. “Enjoy your meal, Mister Fitch.” She closed the cell door and left.
Fitch snorted and took a slug of the beer, then scrunched his nose. It tasted bitter.
He examined the glass and noticed specks of white powder on the rim. He wiped it off with his index finger, then rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “What the hell?”
He felt dizzy, tried to stand up and tripped over the table, pulling the cloth with him as he tried to regain his balance. The plate crashed to the floor and Anderson Fitch fell flat on his face.
Fitch groaned as he opened his eyes. His head was throbbing, and a strong smell of ammonia filled his nostrils, it made his eyes water even though he could hardly breath through his busted nose. He sat up and he instantly knew where he was; the Ocelot pen.
He crouched and shifted to all fours, then scrambled uncomfortably through the passageway to the feeding area. The smell was more bearable here. Bella and Bradshire were sitting in a corner, their chests expanding and contracting rapidly as they panted. It was hot in here.
He limped toward them, trying to shake the grogginess from his head, then stuck out his hand. “Come to papa, my babies.”
Bella glowered up at him, and her ears flattened against her head. He stumbled back with a surprised shriek as she growled and jumped at him, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip and scratching his chest with her hind legs. He ripped her off him, tasting blood in his mouth as she gouged deep scratches into his lower lip, then aimed a kick at her, sending her sprawling to the side of the room.
Bradshire pounced on his leg, gnawing and scratching and hissing as she ripped his pants to shreds. He managed to pull him off by the scruff of his neck, but the cat bit into the soft skins between Fitch’s thumb and forefinger before he was able to toss him away from him, toward the tunnel. The cats hissed at him and stood with their hair straight up, tails flicking from side to side. “Bitch,” he screamed, wiping the blood from his mouth. Bella glared at him for a second, a white foam visible on her mouth. They swatted at each other, but then turned their attention back to Fitch.
Fitch held his injured hand to his chest. “Oh shit,” he said, examining his wounded hand.
He glanced around the room. A gun had been placed on a table next to the door. He picked it up and aimed a shot at the animals, the booming noise reverberating through the room. The cats hissed, then turned around reluctantly and skulked through the low tunnel, looking back once before they disappeared. Or went to regroup, who knew.
Fitch glanced up as a CCTV camera whirred and clicked above him.
“I’d save my ammunition if I were you, Fitch,” Alexa Guerra’s irritating voice announced over a speaker.
“Fuck you,” Fitch yelled and aimed the gun at the lock on the door. Three shots exploded into the reinforced fireproof steel doors, ricocheting off the walls. It was useless.
Neil Allen chuckled. “Now, now, Anderson. You only have four bullets left. It would be best to save them for the rabid cats.”
Fitch stood bent over, trying to control his breathing, his heart beating in his chest like a jackhammer. He was starting to panic. “Is this your idea of some fucking sick joke, Allen?”
Neil Allen laughed. “You should have taken your pets to have their shots.”
“You can’t take wild animals to the vet, asshole,” Fitch shouted, wiping his lip as spittle and blood dripped to the floor.
“Well, then you shouldn’t keep them as pets, asshole,” Neil barked back.
Fitch swallowed, his throat dry. “What’s the plan, Allen? You going to leave me down here?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll starve to death.”
The gorger bitch chuckled. “I’ve heard that cat food is quite nutritious, and you have more than enough water.”
Fitch glanced up at the camera. “That’s murder, you know. It wouldn’t look too good on your unblemished Interpol records.”
The speaker crackled, but no-one spoke. “Who says we’re representing Interpol?” the bitch finally asked.
“Then who exactly are you representing?”
“We’re incognito. Interpol doesn’t even know we’re here,” Neil Allen said with finality, then the speaker clicked off.
Doctor Klein scanned through the information on the clip board, flipped a couple of pages then nodded and placed it back into a holder at the foot of the bed. He smiled at Bis Latorre. “You’re doing well. How is the shoulder feeling?”
Latorre shrugged. “Been worse.”
Klein turned to Alexa. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, thanks for asking.”
He pursed his lips, looking unsure if he should comment. She guessed she didn’t look fine. The doctor nodded curtly and left the room. Alexa thought he was an excellent doctor, although Bruce didn’t trust him. Trust was something to be earned with Bruce.
She studied Latorre. He looked pale and gaunt and his blue eyes were duller than she had remembered them. A weak smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Colonel Bryden told me my girl saved the day.”
Alexa smiled. “Yes, she was quite a hero.” She pulled a chair closer, then sat down beside his bed. “Your daughter is brilliant, you know?”
He nodded slowly, then closed his eyes. “Yes, she gets that from her mother.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Alexa. “Why would she think I shot her?”
“After you told me your version of what had happened to Mary-Lou, I contacted Doctor Abbey at the Lyndon Johnson General Hospital in Houston.”
Latorre nodded. “Yeah, she treated Mary-Lou.”
“Your daughter suffered from a condition known as prosopagnosia, or facial blindness.”
Latorre propped himself up by his elbows. “What?”
Alexa took his hand and squeezed it. “It’s a side-effect caused by damage to the lower temporal lobe of the brain. The damage caused by the bullet that had penetrated her skull.”
“Will she ever recognize me again?”
Alexa tilted her hair from side to side, weighing her options. “The Doctor said it took Mary-Lou months to recognize her grandmother. She always thought that Pauline was her mom.”
“Maybe it was better that way,” Latorre said bitterly. “You know, to deal with the pain of losing her mom?” He swallowed, then whispered, “and her dad.”
Alexa squeezed his hand again. “She will learn to trust you again, but it’s going to take some time.”
He turned his head on the pillow. “What about you, Captain?”
“What about me?”
“Could you ever trust me again?”
Alexa tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Why did you break into our room?”
His cheeks turned red. “I never meant to harm you, Captain.”
She smiled. “I know, you couldn’t hit Stade de France if you stood in front of it. I was disappointed.”
He smiled nervously.
“Why, Lieutenant?”
He cleared his throat. “I was trying to buy you some time.”
“Your father ordered the shooting.”
He nodded slowly, averting his eyes.
She smiled. “Thanks, I guess.” She tucked her fringe behind her ear. “You made it seem awfully realistic, though.”
He snorted. “I was fighting for my damn life.”
“Why?”
He fiddled with a tube. “I wasn’t ready to get caught. My dad told me he was innocent and deep down I wanted to believe him.” He blinked. “I had to do something to make him trust me.”
�
�Trust you? The bastard tried to frame you for murder!”
His lips thinned into a line and he nodded, then closed his eyes and sucked in a raspy breath. “I guess I’m a sucker for punishment. When I came back here, pops wasn’t happy to see me. I was still a bastard in his eyes. But I was his only son, so I hoped that would count for something.” He looked up at Alexa. “Pops still hated me for getting Lily pregnant. I loved her a lot.”
He propped himself up and attempted to pour himself a glass of water, then slumped back into the cushion with a groan. “Merde, I’m such an idiot.”
Alexa filled a polystyrene cup from the pitcher and Latorre accepted it gratefully. He gulped it down, then shrugged, deep in thought. After a moment, he spoke. “Lily was the sweetest girl. You would have liked her.” He put his hand on his brow. “But Pops was furious. He said she wasn’t good enough to be a Fitch.”
“So he killed her?”
Latorre nodded. “He shot Mary-Lou as well. I rushed her to Lyndon Johnson, but he hunted us down. The only reason we’re still alive is because Pauline managed to make a deal with him.”
“A deal?”
Latorre nodded. “My father’s cronies would make sure that any people that they needed info from would be booked into the Ocelot Inn. And then Pauline would spy on them.” He sighed. “All the places in town are rigged with surveillance cameras. That’s the price you pay to stay in Dabbort.”
“What about your mother, Patricia?”
Latorre shook his head. “My mother was an outsider as well. But Pops needed her skills, Missy had met her at University. She kept to herself, never mixed with anyone.” He blinked. “Anyone except my dad. And now she’s dead.”
“You think Fitch killed her?”
Latorre nodded. “He set me up, framed me for Lily’s death.” He stared out of the window, a vacant look in his eyes. “And now he’s set me up for my mom’s death as well.”
Alexa stood up and ambled to the foot of the bed. “Why did you hang around Mary-Lou’s bedroom the whole time?”
Is Latorre shrugged. “I wanted to see my daughter.”
“And why did you try and fake your own death?”
Latorre grunted. “That was Pop’s idea. I phoned him to tell him we were on our way. He then said that we should falsify my new passport and create a new identity, so that Interpol would think I was dead. He did it decades ago, a woman called Senator Williamson was a supreme court judge, and she falsified his death certificate, said she would do the same for me.”
“So what went wrong?”
“I couldn’t go through with it.” He took the cup and held it out to Alexa. “Voelkner was like a brother to me. I knocked him out and took him to the hospital.” Latorre coughed and grimaced. “I asked a nurse to take special care of him until all of this blew over.”
Alexa filled the cup from the pitcher. “But two people were killed?”
Latorre nodded. “Some poor truck driver that had Voelkner’s wallet in his pocket. And that kid from Dallas, he was supposed to be my body-double.” Latorre blinked, then looked at Alexa desperately. “How am I ever going to get out of shit-hole, Captain?”
Alexa squeezed his hand. “We’re Legionnaires, Lieutenant. We always find a way.”
Alexa stood on the fairway green of the golf course, inspecting the damage that had been caused by the military vehicles. The grass had been deeply rutted, and huge divots had been torn out of the turf due to all their activity.
“I guess they’ve played their last round of golf,” Neil said with a chuckle.
Alexa nodded, then asked, “You found David?”
Neil nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the horizon, a grim look on his face. “Yes, in Fitch’s office.” He turned around to face Alexa. “Bullet to the brain.”
Alexa closed her eyes, then tiredly wiped her hand across her face. “I guess I should tell Lucy.”
Neil glanced sidelong at Alexa, but said nothing.
“You ready for this?” Alexa asked.
Neil nodded and held up his backpack. “Everything’s in here.”
“Let’s go,” Alexa said and slid into the seat of the Hummer.
Neil turned around and jumped into the Hummer. He roared away, leaving an additional set of deep tracks in the already irreparable fairway.
Alexa held Lucy Beck in her arms, the woman’s shoulders were shaking as she sobbed, and Alexa tried to comfort her as well as she could. General Laiveaux and Bruce stood by her side, rubbing her shoulders, trying to help comfort her but looking uncomfortable themselves.
Neil walked to them and hugged them both. “We’ll make this bastard pay, Lucy, I promise you.”
Lucy Beck nodded and sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes with her palms. “I know, I know you will.”
Alexa strolled outside, then addressed the men standing on the makeshift parade ground. “Our mission is complete,” she said with finality. “Gentleman, thank you so much for your help in this matter.”
They stamped then feet in unison, then saluted smartly.
Neil, Bruce and Laiveaux joined her outside. “Colonel, General. Would you mind assisting us in our final duty before we leave?”
They nodded.
Alexa ducked inside the mess tent. “Lucy, you ready?”
She sniffed, then nodded and stood up, following Alexa, Neil, Bruce and Laiveaux as they marched to Doctor Joseph Ryan’s tent.
Laiveaux unzipped Doctor Joseph Ryan’s tent, then entered without asking for permission. The Doctor was sitting on his bunk, resting his chin on his hands. He looked up in surprise, his eyelids teary and red.
General Laiveaux nodded curtly. “Doctor Ryan, would you mind joining me outside?”
He smiled uncertainly, then stood up. “Why certainly, General.”
Ryan stepped outside, then shuffled back a step or two then he saw the people gathered outside. He frowned at Alexa, his lips pressed flat. “Captain, what’s this all about?”
Alexa studied him for a moment, then asked, “You stay up at the ranch, right?”
His eyes narrowed. “And you stay in a tent, so what?”
Laiveaux stepped forward. “Answer the question.”
Ryan nodded, his jaw set tightly.
Neil held up a white Stetson and a Bolo tie. “I found this in your study, funny I’ve never noticed you wearing a hat before.”
Ryan laughed. “So what? Everyone in Texas has a Stetson.”
Neil studied the Doctor. “I searched your cabin, I suspected that you weren’t telling us everything you knew.” He held up a thick wad of papers. “We found the cancellation codes beneath a floorboard in your study.”
Ryan looked at the papers, then shrugged. “They must have been planted there, somehow.”
“There were blood splatters on some of the pages,” Bruce said. “DNA analysis confirms that they belong to Patricia McBride.”
Ryan studied Bruce for a second, then shrugged. “As I said, they must have been planted.”
Lucy Beck stepped closer, then unrolled the Wassily Kandinsky water color painting that had hung in Ryan’s cabin. “Remember this?”
Ryan’s eyes flitted to the painting, then back to Lucy Beck. “Yes, David gave it to me the day before he was arrested.” His voice raised an octave. “It was a gift, I didn’t steal it. What’s this all about?”
Lucy Beck pursed her lips, then said, “He gave it to you for a reason, Doctor.”
Neil spoke. “The day that David was arrested, I paid him a visit in jail. He told Lucy that she shouldn’t forget about the water color. It was a cryptic clue, something that only she would understand.” He smiled at Ryan. “I remembered seeing the painting on your wall, and my suspicions were confirmed by Lucy. He gave you the Kandisky as a gift.”
“It was a fine painting, so what?”
“Yesterday, I paid your cabin a visit and removed it from the frame.”
Lucy nodded grimly. “David wrote a note on the back of the painting.” She turned to face
Alexa. “Captain. Do you mind reading the first half of the message?”
Alexa unrolled the piece of leather inner, then read.
Refatex recruited me, David Beck, under false pretenses, to ascertain the dolomite content of earth samples they had taken. After signing a non-disclosure agreement, Doctor Joseph Ryan disclosed information relating to Refatex’s underhand dealings. When I threatened to approach the authorities, I was beaten up by the Refatex guards. They threatened my wife, Lucy, and said they would kill her if I ever disclosed any information. I request witness protection and guarantees that my family
Lucy unrolled the painting, then turned it around and read off the back.
will be safe. Doctor Joseph Ryan has converted the refinery to be able to refine the sweet crude beneath the ground, and all shale oil is being refined and sold to the Chinese; he mentioned that a certain Senator Williamson was the go-between. The refinery is causing catastrophic pollution and it will only be a matter of time before the groundwater in the state is affected and poisoned as the shale-wells are not being properly insulated. By my calculations, catastrophic groundwater pollution will take place within a couple of months. I urge you to act in taking this mad-man down before it is too late.
Ryan fidgeted with the seam of his pants, then shrugged. “I want to see my lawyer.”
Alexa continued. “We also searched the contents of your PC up at Refatex. We found the blueprint to the refinery. You had already refitted it to refine the premium shale, and you were doing it right under Andy’s nose.”
Ryan glared at he people around him, then a slow smile formed on his lips. He shrugged. “Show me some evidence.”
Laiveaux removed his cell phone from his pocket. “Do you mind listening to this. Doctor?” he asked, then pushed a button on the phone. It was a recording of a phone call between Doctor Ryan and David Beck. Laiveaux forwarded it and listened, then nodded. “Here’s the pertinent bit.”
Joseph Ryan: I’ll split the profits with you David, I need someone to secure the catchments, the oil’s pilfering into the groundwater and we’re losing massive amounts of money.
