by Ian Somers
‘Go ahead and lose it. You’ll be dead before you know what hits you.’
‘I haven’t been lying to you.’ He knew full well that he couldn’t break through the layer and that I was naturally stronger than him. His struggling quickly subsided as did his temper. ‘I swear I have not lied to you.’
‘You haven’t been entirely honest either, have you?’ I replied. ‘What was that thing on the road today? No bullshit. I want the truth.’
‘He’s an assassin.’
‘Don’t give me that crap!’
‘Well, what do you think it was if not an assassin?’
‘It was no ordinary assassin. I believe he’s the master Brofeldt talked about. I think I just saw the Kematian. Glowing green eyes. Immune to everything you hit him with. There’s no one on this earth who would survived being electrocuted like that. Admit it, Hunter. Just tell me the truth!’
‘It was not the Kematian,’ he shouted. ‘Now you bloody well release me.’
‘I will if you tell me all that you know.’
‘Release me!’
I reluctantly drew down my power and Hunter slid down the wall and stared at me, shaking his head. The bottle of booze flew across the room into his hand and he unscrewed it and took a long drink.
‘I told you before you need to put a cap on that temper of yours,’ he snarled. He took a seat at the table and knocked back another mouthful of whiskey.
‘I tend to lose my temper when I realise I’ve been tricked into risking my life. No more lies,’ I told him. ‘I want to know what we’re up against.’
‘I was not lying to you, Bentley. The assassin we encountered on the road was Jermaine Scott. Well, that’s the name he went under when we first came across him – Lord only knows what his real name is. And I’m quite certain he’s not Brofeldt’s leader. He’s the assassin she warned us about before she died.’
‘Jermaine Scott? I’ve heard that name before.’
‘Perhaps his nickname will be more familiar to you. He’s known affectionately as Boxer by the agents of the Guild. We call him that because he likes to beat his victims to death with his bare fists.’
‘He’s just a man?’
‘Of course he’s just a man. What did you think he was? An alien?’
‘But his eyes. I saw his eyes. They were glowing!’
‘I got a better look at him during the fight. Those weren’t his eyes. He was wearing a mask. The green lights you saw were some sort of visual aid, probably dreamed up by Golding’s scientists. I reckon it was manufactured to enable him to see through body refractions and to protect his eyes from light orbs.’ Hunter slammed his fist against the counter in an unexpected instant of rage. ‘It was designed to help him fight and kill light-tuners like me.’
‘Why would he have a mask designed with light-tuners in mind?’
‘Boxer has few weaknesses,’ Hunter admitted before he took another shot of scotch. ‘The Guild always felt a light-tuner would stand a chance against him because they could blind him. That’s the only way we believed he could be hurt.’
‘I remember hearing about him,’ I said as I took a seat next to Hunter. ‘He was one of Armamenti Tal-Future’s soldiers, right? He was said to be indestructible.’
‘He was their best soldier. They were an organisation who put together a small army of gifted mercenaries who would fight on the side of anyone who could afford to pay them. It was a repulsive notion. Supremely gifted individuals who were trained to maximise their gifts in combat being sent to fight third world armies for oil companies or greedy nations who wanted to expand their borders, or fanatics who wanted to wipe out communities who didn’t agree with their politics or religion. They were the Guild’s main adversary for many years until the late 1980s when we managed to find their base in Malta and assassinate their entire leadership. After their organisation was dismantled, the mercenaries were hunted down one by one. All were given the same choice: Join the Guild, retire or die. A handful joined our ranks and contributed a lot to our cause. Most retired because they had been forced to butcher innocents and no longer wanted to be a part of the gifted world. There were, however, a couple of them who enjoyed such butchery. Melissa Nijinska was one. She opted to work for Golding and she caused a great deal of suffering and in some ways she changed the world … and not for the better. The other mercenary who refused our offer was Jermaine Scott. It’s not his real name. I don’t even know if he has a real name. What I do know is he was born into extreme poverty in the South African townships. His parents abandoned him when he was six years old and he had to fend for himself. As you can imagine, he’s a rather thick-skinned individual who knows how to look after himself in a fight. He also has the gift of psychokinesis. What sets Boxer apart from others with that power is that when he was growing up, he didn’t understand the power he possessed and he learned to use it in a totally unique manner …’ Hunter sighed and rubbed his forehead. ‘He truly is an abomination.’
‘How does he use his power?’
‘It’s called kinetic fusion. He doesn’t – and can’t – use the gift to move objects without physical connection, as we do. Instead he draws energy into his body, contains it there and it fuses with his bones and muscles. Can you imagine a physical form that is intertwined with psychokinetic energy?’
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘What does it do for him?’
‘It makes his body almost impossible to break down. His limbs, his bones, sinews, muscles and skin are held together and protected and fuelled by the energy that we know so well – and we know how potent it is, right? Boxer may not be able move things as we do, but he’s capable of lifting a vehicle with one hand without breaking a sweat. His body cannot be pierced or damaged by any known force or weapon. And the kinetic fusion makes his muscles supercharged and allows him to react and move at unbelievable speeds – I heard a story that he once chased down a speeding car on foot during one of his missions for Armamenti Tal-Future. We’ll be finished if he manages to corner us.’
‘I was able to destroy a block of metaliglass with my psychokinesis. That’s the hardest substance known to man. I’m sure I can break him.’
‘If you use that gift on Boxer he will simply absorb your strike and it will only serve to make him stronger. That’s why I wouldn’t allow you to fight him on the road today. One of your temper tantrums would have made him unstoppable. I barely held him as it was.’
‘He must have a weakness of some kind. Everyone has a weakness.’
‘Yes, you’re right. Boxer’s weakness are his eyes. And with the help of Golding Scientific, he has been able to eliminate that one weakness. Now he really is indestructible!’
‘How do you know he’s not the Master? I would think that someone so strong would be able to dominate others quite easily.’
‘No, Boxer is a loner. By all accounts he wasn’t very reliable when he worked for Armamenti. He’s doesn’t have the qualities or the inclination to lead others. He’s a chaotic killer who sees himself as a free spirit, travelling here and there unchallenged and unknown. Sometimes he goes on killing sprees. Then he disappears for years at a time. He’s not the type of man to believe in anything, to have a purpose or direction. He’s spent most of his adult life roaming from one place to another, doing as he pleases. That’s why I doubt he’s officially part of this rogue group. I’m leaning towards the idea that he’s simply doing this for money or the pleasure of killing other gifted people.’
‘We have to find a way to stop him. He’ll track us down sooner or later.’
‘It would be wiser to avoid him. Fighting him will cost us our lives.’
‘I don’t feel very safe here all of a sudden.’
‘This place is as safe as any,’ Hunter said. ‘Mind you, I don’t think we should remain beyond tomorrow morning. It would be best to keep to the road. At least that way we’ll have a chance to outrun anyone who tries to kill us.’
‘We need to be moving in a definite direction, Hunter. I’
m getting the feeling that we’re aimlessly wandering from one hiding place to another and sooner or later they’ll guess our next step and our luck will run out.’
‘Our luck almost ran out today,’ Hunter said. ‘That was as close as I’ve come to death for quite some time – I must admit it was exhilarating.’
‘No, it was terrifying,’ I corrected him. ‘I still can’t figure out how they found us. We were out in the middle of nowhere then suddenly we’re surrounded!’
‘They must have been watching the ports since we disappeared from the Windmill Hotel. It was a fair bet that we’d travel over here and look for help. The surveillance chopper must have had a heat sensitive camera on board and that’s how they saw us. Then it was simply a case of waiting until our guard was down.’
‘They’ve proved rather resourceful, haven’t they?’
‘They’ve got us all figured out by the looks of things. Brofeldt wasn’t lying when she said they had been planning this for many years. They seem to have every angle covered. I think the key to all of this is in formation. They have lots on us, we have hardly any on them. We can’t hope to fight them until we know more.’
The adrenalin of the chase was now dissipating. Tiredness filled the void that it left. Perhaps it was this momentary weakness that brought on the latest headache. It didn’t matter what the cause, I was soon wincing at the lights of the kitchen and went to the darkness of the sitting room for relief. Hunter soon joined me and stood watch by the window watching the narrow road that led from the house to the open country, knowing that we were vulnerable while I was debilitated.
‘These headaches of yours are becoming a nuisance,’ he said. ‘You won’t be much good in a fight if you’re suffering one if the enemy finally finds us.’
‘It’s hardly my fault.’
‘I know it’s not.’
‘I had these headaches a lot while we lived in Scotland, didn’t I?’
‘So your memories are returning,’ he said without turning to me. ‘How much do you recall?’
‘Just brief moments. You’ve known about the memory loss that accompanies my headaches?’
‘You used to get those headaches from time to time and never remembered them the next day. Apparently you had them before you came to live with me. Peter Williams told me about them before I agreed to protect you.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘He described them as growing pains for the gifted.’
‘Did you ever experience such headaches?’
‘No.’
‘And neither has any other gifted person you know.’
‘Everyone deals with it in their own way, Bentley.’
‘I have two new memories that bother me greatly. One with Cathy and another with Williams. They were both saying the same thing to me …’
‘And what was that?’
‘That I was enduring the headaches for a good reason and that one day it would be worth it. Williams also believed I was destined to lead the Guild of the True.’
‘I don’t know why Williams would think you worthy of the role, especially seeing as though you didn’t want to be a part of the Guild at all. Perhaps he saw something in you that I cannot.’
‘I agree with you. I’m far too reckless for such responsibility.’
‘You are indeed.’
‘More than you know …’
Hunter turned slowly from the window and narrowed his eyes at me.
‘What have you done?’ he growled.
‘I called Cathy while you were asleep on the ferry.’
‘You fool!’
‘What’s so foolish about making a simple phone call?’
‘You don’t know the risk? You, the one who led Marianne to the Atkinson house, do not know why making such a call is foolish?’
‘She wasn’t at the house, Hunter.’ I stared back at him through the gloom and remained composed despite how aggressive he was becoming. ‘Cathy is not even in France. She’s actually in London, just like Brofeldt’s notes said she was.’
‘And who told you this?’
‘Her mother.’
‘June Atkinson has a few too many screws loose, Bentley, didn’t you know?’
‘That may or may not be true. It doesn’t change the fact that Cathy was not there.’
‘Maybe she’s found a new boyfriend in France and was out on a steamy date.’
‘You know where she is.’
‘There goes that imagination of yours again. You’re becoming a very paranoid, annoying and dangerous person. It’s quite a chore keeping an eye on you.’
‘Keeping an eye on me? You say that like you’re still under orders to be protecting me.’
‘I have no orders concerning you. As far as the Guild knows, you’re still living on the west coast of Ireland.’
‘I’m starting to doubt everything you say.’
‘That’s not my problem. I’m not going to try and convince you of my honesty, Bentley. In fact, I’d rather this conversation ended right now.’
‘Fair enough.’
He returned his attentions to the window and the room fell silent. I hadn’t the strength to demand he talk to me. I would not get the answers I needed from Hunter, anyway – that much was obvious. I would have to wait until I found Cathy. She too had been lying to me, but she would tell me the truth if we were face to face. At least I hoped she would.
The pain inside my skull became so severe that I lost consciousness. I don’t know how long I was out, maybe an hour, maybe no more than a few minutes. I was dragged from sleep by the beams of car headlights illuminating the room. I was still groggy but the sleep had sent the headache into retreat and I was able to push myself from the chair and go to Hunter’s side.
When the headlights died I could clearly see the car and recognised it immediately as Canavan’s red hatchback. I gave her a wave as she stepped into the garden. She just stared back as if I was an unwelcome stranger. I followed Hunter to the hall and kept my distance as he opened the door for his old mentor. She entered quite cautiously, watching us both with suspicious eyes. It was hardly a happy reunion. Even Hunter seemed perturbed by her manner.
‘Good to see you,’ Hunter dared to say.
‘Is it?’ she said flatly. ‘I can’t say the same because I’m putting my life in jeopardy by being near you.’
‘Why would you be risking your life by talking to us?’ Hunter asked.
‘We’ll get to that soon enough.’ She made her way along the hallway to the kitchen and Hunter and I exchanged a look of bewilderment as we followed her. ‘I take it the two of you were responsible for the carnage on the M62.’
‘We weren’t responsible for it.’ Hunter pulled a chair from the table for her and continued after she sat. ‘We’re being hunted by some very well equipped assassins.’
‘You’re being hunted by more than just assassins.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Every agent, tutor, mole and apprentice in the Guild has been ordered to kill you on sight – both of you!’
‘What?’ I almost shouted. ‘Why would they be after us?’
‘Because you called in help from the Guild and four agents from Belfast were sent to your aid. The same four agents were found murdered in the back of a van four days ago, parked at the back of a Dublin hotel – the same hotel in which a gifted civilian, Johan Verbannk, was found murdered.’
‘Now hold on a minute!’ Hunter snapped. ‘We are not –’
‘And there’s more,’ Canavan raised her voice. ‘Three of our agents went missing two days ago. Their bodies were discovered in your highland cottage when it was searched last night. You’re just lucky that there aren’t many agents free to search for you right now. Not with all the other troubles that are facing the Guild.’
‘What troubles are you talking about?’ Hunter asked.
‘Where have you two been the last week?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Well, you’ve mis
sed out on quite a bit. The Guild’s plan to attack Golding Scientific was pushed forward. The first strike took place three days ago.’
‘Who pushed it forward?’ Hunter demanded. ‘It wasn’t supposed to start for another few weeks.’
‘I don’t know where the order came from. I do know it was an epic failure. Ten agents went to Iceland to kill off some of the high-ranking personnel within Golding’s organisation and they were ambushed. All of them are dead. It was as if Golding had been tipped off. Then yesterday there was an all-out gifted battle in central London. One of our safe houses was attacked without warning by assassins. The fighting lasted hours and spilled into the heart of the city.’
Canavan switched on a TV set on the kitchen counter and flicked through the channels until she reached a news report. There was a bold headline running under the image of a newsreader that read: Terrifying scenes in London as violence claims dozens of lives. There was a banner at the top of the screen that was even more worrying: No official comment from government on mysterious footage of violence.
‘If you’ve just tuned in,’ the newsreader began, ‘we do advise viewer discretion, as there are some graphics scenes of death and violence in the footage we are about to show you. And do bear in mind that this is not a clip from a movie. The footage has not been doctored. What you are about to see actually took place on York Road this afternoon.’
The news channel then cut directly to footage that had been filmed by a helicopter crew. It was looking down on York Road and there were thumping explosions in the distance. There was fire spewing out across the road and as the helicopter banked to one side, it became clear what was causing the flames. It was a single individual pacing out onto the road and shooting streams of fire from his hands. Then the camera focused on two women who were approaching from the Thames. One of them was waving her arms about and seemed to be raising parked vehicles and sending them through the air at the pyrokinetic. Her companion was firing white bolts of energy that were setting off explosions all around her. It was a full-on gifted duel. In broad daylight. All captured on camera.
