by Fred Crawley
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Title Page
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City in the Fire
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City in the Fire
Copyright © 2017 by Fred Crawley
The rights of Thomas Hall to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are ficticious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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PAYBACK IS A BITCH
When Walter is suspended from his private boarding school he is sent home to start the summer holidays early.
Hoping to keep him out of further mischief, and to teach him some responsibility, his parents buy him a dog. Walter has no interest in the animal and spends his days ignoring it and snooping around the family estate. What he learns scandalises him and he finds an easy target for his frustrations.
When his actions come back to haunt him, he finds himself fighting for his life.
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CHAPTER 1
SHE SQUINTED AS SHE CLIMBED OUT OF THE dark van into the bright morning. Sunlight reflected off the glass towers in the distance and she raised a hand to shield her eyes while fishing in her breast pocket for her shades. Despite the brightness of the day it wasn’t warm. The winter cold snap had set in and she pulled her jacket tightly across her chest.
“Captain Shelton,” said a deep voice to her left. She turned and saw Jarred Dawson walking towards her. Smooth shaven and chiselled, the man looked like a Greek statue made flesh. He was her second and she wasn’t supposed to think about him like that, but it wasn’t always easy. She stood back and bit her lip. When he reached her he took her hand. “It’s good to see you M’am.”
She hated that she called her ‘M’am’. It made her feel about a hundred years old, she was only thirty-four and she worked out. A lot of people said she could still pass for someone in their twenties, although she had her doubts. She ran a hand over her dark hair which was tightly pulled back in a bun. “What’s the status?” she said.
“All of the charges are in place. Just waiting on your go ahead,” he said.
“Very good Dawson. Lets go take a look shall we.” Gwen took her work seriously so she would have checked anyway but this was a big operation. It had taken years of planning and preparation. The Grigori had been leaking false news stories to the media and preparing for the huge amount of interest the story would generate. Regardless of how much they prepared there would be conspiracy theories. Even if the story they were leaking were true that would be the case. As long as they could convince the thinking, rational majority that it was all an unfortunate accident then it would be a success. There might even be another promotion in it for her.
The control room was in the back of a truck. Half a dozen people and a hell of a lot of electronic equipment were crammed inside. Displays hung from every wall showing maps of the city alongside live satellite feeds of the same. When she stepped inside all six people stopped what they were doing and stood up.
“At ease people,” she said and awkwardly they sat down again.
On the wall at the far end of the truck there was a large screen dedicated to showing a clock. One half showed the current time as 0650, the other half showed a countdown in seconds, currently it stood at 4,200. She watched the timer run down to 4,140 and gave her team a chance to relax a little but not too much, she wanted them alert and ready.
“Are all the explosives reporting as live?” she said.
“Yes M’am,” said Dawson.
She paused for breath and reminded herself that everything was going according to plan. In fact, according to the plan they were 600 seconds ahead of schedule. Which worried her. Everything had been accounted for and run through, they had been practicing this for months. Those ten minutes needed to be accounted for. Or maybe she was just being uptight.
“Get me section four on the screen,” she said. The only way to be sure they hadn’t missed something was to run the checks for herself. Make sure they had done their job properly and not cut corners.
On the screen at the end of the van the face of a blond haired girl appeared. Gwen didn’t know her name, she looked like she had barely finished school let alone had time to pass the gruelling months of recruitment tests and training required for field work. “What’s your name soldier?”
“Sullivan M’am.”
Gwen nodded, the girl seemed nervous but not out of control. That was good, just how she wanted her to be. “Is your charge set?”
“Yes M’am.”
“And your station is ready for disposal?”
“Yes M’am.”
“Very good,” said Gwen and then looked away from the girl, the conversation was over. “Get me section ninety six,” she said.
One of the geeks tapped something into their computer and a moment later Sullivan was replaced by a man called Taylor. Taylor reported that everything was set at his end and he was replaced by Helms at section one-hundred and twenty-eight who was replaced by Coreno at section eleven. She ran through more than a dozen sections and each reported they were ready. Unless she was prepared to contact all two-hundred sections there wasn’t much more she could do. “Okay that’s enough,” she said and the last face was replaced by the clock and countdown timer.
She left the control centre and Dawson followed. The cool morning air was welcome after the confinement of the truck. Gwen stood on the crest of the hill which allowed her to look down over the city of Langford. Ancient roads twisted around giant glass structures that dwarfed the historical buildings that were dotted around the city. Gwen had spent many hours walking the streets, pacing the course so to speak. She knew Langford as well as she knew Oxley or Lunden. It was an old city and that was part of the problem.
She shook her head and cleared the unwelcome thoughts swimming around. She was tired, that was the problem. As the months leading up to today had become weeks, had become days she had found it increasingly difficult to sleep. This was make or break time for her career with The Grigori.
It wasn’t her decision and, whether she gave the order or not, it would be given and the work would be carried out. Even if she wanted to there was nothing she could do to save the city now. And, she realised, that she didn’t want to. She wanted to see Langford and everything in it burn.
She took a breath, a moment to prepare herself, and then turned around. Dawson stood there waiting for her. He didn’t ask what she had been doing or if everything was alright. He was young but he was old school, he followed orders and he didn’t ask questions.
“Light the fireworks,” she said.
“Very good M’am,” he replied and she watched him turn and go back into the control centre.
She waited but after a minute he still hadn’t come out so she walked back across the clearing to the car that she had arrived in. The driver climbed out as she approached and held the back door open for her. She took out her phone and slid into the warm leather interior.
CHAPTER 2
THERE WAS NOTHING UNDER THE BED EXCEPT DUST bunnies and an old shoe box. She pulled out the shoe box and could tell by the weight tha
t it was empty, just as it had been when she’d checked ten minutes ago. She pulled out the tissue paper again for good measure but her shoes weren’t there.
“Abi are you coming?” called Craig from the bottom of the stairs. Why didn’t he come up and offer to help her instead?
She closed the shoe box and slid it back under the bed, ready to find again the next time she was looking for something. She heaved herself up and glimpsed her swollen ankles in the mirror. The stripy dress she had put on was stretched tightly over her distended belly. She looked like a circus tent.
“Abi?” called Craig again.
“Alright,” she shouted back. “Keep your hair on,” she added under her breath. He was sensitive about his premature hair loss and she doubted he would find it funny.
There was no time to get changed so she grabbed her green cardigan from the back of her chair and wrapped it around herself. She could hear Craig walking around downstairs, his shoes clunking on the hardwood floor.
“Are you ready?” he said looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs.
“I can’t find my shoes,” she said and suddenly she felt as if she might cry, which was ridiculous, but they were green and and oh so comfortable.
“Don’t you have any others you can wear?” he said and did everything except tap his watch to indicate that it was time to go.
“No,” she said which was not at all true, she had a cupboard full of shoes but they weren’t the same; they were either pretty but uncomfortable or comfortable but hideous. She didn’t want to be another pregnant woman waddling around in ugly shoes. “I mean yes but they aren’t the same.”
“Ab I really have to go,” he said.
“I know,” she said, nodding and now actually crying. She felt like an idiot it was just a pair of stupid shoes.
Craig checked his watch. “Come on then, let’s have a look.”
He went through all the places she had already been and of course he didn’t find them. She was beginning to wonder if she had left them at Fran’s house but that would have meant walking home in bare feet.
“What about these?” said Craig holding up a pair of silver sandals. They weren’t as pretty as her green shoes but at least they were flats. She nodded and took them off him.
She sat down on the shoe box at the bottom of the stairs and brushed strands of long red hair out of her face. She was out of breath and could barely reach her feet to buckle up the sandals. Another advantage of the green shoes was that they were slip ons.
“Can you give me a hand?” she said.
Craig sighed and put down his briefcase. He kneeled in front of her and pushed the sandals onto her feet. From above she could see the bald patch at the back of his head, it was red from the sun they’d had at the weekend. It made her smile and that was enough to stop her snapping at him for sighing.
“You ready?” he said, springing up to his feet and not even offering a hand to help her.
“Almost,” she said. “Where’s my bag?”
“Right here,” he said and was at least gracious enough to hold it while she pushed herself up with a heave. “Thanks,” she said and grabbed it off him.
“No problem,” he said and walked towards the door. “Come on, we need to hurry.”
She waddled after him feeling heavy and tired. Her face was red from the minor exertion of standing up. By the time she reached the front door she was too hot and sticky to be wearing a jumper. She took it off and considered leaving it at home but took it anyway.
“You look nice,” said Craig as he stood back to hold the door open for her.
“I don’t, I look like a beached whale,” she said and scowled at him.
Outside a wonderful cool breeze swirled around her but after a moment all it did was highlight the damp places where she had already started to sweat. Craig locked the door behind them and followed her down to the road where his silver Ford was parked.
Getting into the car and strapped in was an awkward task not made any easier by Craig sitting in his own seat tapping the steering wheel impatiently. “I’m going as fast as I can,” she said.
He looked at her with wide eyed innocence that she just knew was fake. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
Finally she was in and the door was closed behind her. She pulled the seatbelt down and strapped in the little harness they had bought so the seat belt didn’t cut into her bump.
“Are you ready?” he said.
“Just go,” she said and he started the engine.
It was seven-thirty in the morning and the roads were quiet. They made it onto the motorway in less than ten minutes and she could only see four other cars. Abi had never worked in the city but if this was the rush hour that people were always complaining about then she didn’t see what the big deal was.
“I’m going to be late home tonight,” he said. He had to raise his voice for her to hear him over the loud engine of his crappy old car.
She turned and scowled at him, she still hadn’t forgiven him for the ‘you look nice’ comment. “Again?”
“We only moved in two weeks ago,” he said. “There’s still stuff I need to sort out.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged and she wondered, not for the first time, if he was really staying late to screw Debra from accounts. “You know, paperwork and that sort of thing.”
She turned away, she didn’t want to have this conversation with him. It would upset her and she’d already cried once that morning.
“Plus I need to make up for the time I was off yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” she said.
“At the doctors.”
That did it, the last of her self control failed. “Oh so it’s my fault is it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to Craig. I know exactly what you meant. You know, it took two to put a baby in here,” she said and pointed at her stomach.
“I wanted to be there,” he said.
But she wasn’t listening to him anymore. “I suppose you want me to do everything by myself?”
“You’re just being silly now,” he said.
“Oh I am, am I?”
“Abi, please.”
“Don’t worry Craig, I won’t bother you any more.”
He sighed but said no more. It was probably the best thing he could do in the circumstances, but she wasn’t done with him yet.
“Will you want dinner when you get home?”
He paused before he replied. Probably trying to work out what he could say without setting her off again. “I could pick up a pizza or something on my way home.”
“And what time will that be?” she said.
They pulled off the motorway and Langford spread out before them. The bright sunshine made the glass towers look like mirrors. It wasn’t even eight o-clock yet.
“I don’t know,” he said.
She sighed dramatically and turned away to look out of the window. There were a few people in suits walking into the city and a cyclist, but they were the only car on the road. “Whatever Craig,” she said. “Just do what you want, as usual. I’ll look after myself.”
“Abi that’s not fair,” he said.
“Isn’t it?” she said. It wasn’t but right now she didn’t care.
He drove through the winding streets towards his office. “We made better time than I thought,” he said. “Do you want me to drop you off at the coffee shop?”
“I can walk,” she said. Any chance of easy forgiveness had been lost He had been rushing her all morning and for what? So she could arrive two hours early to meet her mum.
“Well if you’re sure,” he said. “If I get an early start I might not have to work so late.”
She grunted, she didn’t know the words to tell him how pissed off she was about that.
He stopped the car opposite his building. The tallest building in the city it was a monument to glass and steel. It had been designed by some Japanese architect and the way Craig tal
ked about it you would think it could survive anything short of Armageddon.
“You sure you’re alright walking?” he said.
“I’m sure,” she said. She undid her harness and opened the door.
“I’ll see you tonight then,” he said.
“Whatever Craig,” she said and heaved herself up and out. She felt like a whale trying to squeeze through a tennis racket.
“Love you Ab,” he said once she was out.
She turned around, not sure whether she was going to repeat the sentiment or give him the finger but he had already leaned over and pulled the door closed. She watched him indicate to pull away from the curb, despite there being no other cars on the road.
Abi watched until his car disappeared behind the metal barrier beneath the towering obelisk. She turned away with a huff that no one except her heard and contemplated the long walk ahead.
CHAPTER 3
SHE ARRIVED AT COFFEEKING JUST BEFORE EIGHT, PANTING and wheezing from a ten minute walk that had taken closer to an hour. The sandal straps had rubbed her little toes raw and her hips ached. She collapsed into one of the garden chairs outside the shop and tried to catch her breath.
The door to her right jingled as it opened and she glanced up to see a dark haired teenage girl in the black CoffeeKing uniform step out. The girl turned, smiled at her and then walked over.
“Good morning,” she said with a big smile.
Abi looked up, she felt tired, hot and swollen and the last thing she wanted was to be confronted by some teenage girl who looked as if she’d just stepped off the page of some magazine. She managed to force a smile. “Morning.”
“Do you know what you’d like to order?” said the girl.
She groaned and felt like hitting her head on the table. CoffeeKing didn’t do waitress service, obviously this impossibly perky teen had seen her exhausted, bloated body collapse into one of their uncomfortable chairs and taken pity on her. Normally Abi wouldn’t have accepted it but right now she was too tired to argue. “Peppermint tea please,” she said.
