by Ian Williams
With the eye holes moving around with each step she took, Phoenix quickly came to dislike the latest job. It did not help that her face was already sweaty and itchy underneath the unwelcome layer of wool. Unfortunately it was far too late for her to back out now. She knew her best option would be to continue until she could possibly slip away unnoticed. Hostages were a new level of risk for her, and one she did not appreciate Anthony not telling her about.
At the top of the three levels of stairs the group stopped outside another security door and waited as the same man went about unlocking it. He first performed a ritual of rolling up his balaclava to see the lock more clearly, and then clicking his knuckles. Once he did this he started.
The others began checking their weapons amid a chorus of metal clicks and clunks as readiness was confirmed. Standing at the back, with a huge body sweat betraying her uneasiness with the situation, Phoenix inspected her own handgun. She had no interest in using it and only carried it in an effort to fit in. No-one needed to know she was having doubts.
Anthony peered through the glass slits in the door as he spoke. “The moment the door opens I want everyone inside and shouting as loud as possible. Get them panicking, but don’t shoot. I’m going to pick one at random and hit them with my gun. When I do, the others should quieten down. They’ll soon know who’s in charge.”
The others all nodded in agreement. Phoenix again stayed out of sight. The nearest she had been to a situation like this was a couple of house robberies with friends. She was not working for Anthony to get these kinds of jobs. It had been the reason she and her brothers had taken to working for him in the first place. Suddenly, with his plans coming together, things were becoming much larger than she was comfortable with.
“Got it,” the man breaking the lock said. He then stood and rolled his balaclava back down over his face to merge with the group. The only distinguishing thing between them was the differences in height – and the obvious female hanging at the back.
“OK?” Anthony said. He looked to each in turn for a nod. When he got to Phoenix he waited a little longer for the same response, which she gave eventually. “Right. As soon as we’re inside fan out. Phoenix will stay by the door and make sure nobody tries to run. OK. One … two … three.”
His countdown did nothing to prepare her for what was coming. Flinging the doors open with little consideration to anyone that may have been on the other side, the team entered and purposefully spread out. Each had an idea of where they were to head and did so with their guns raised. The speed with which they moved was a clear sign of confidence and a level of professionalism that far exceeded the usual calibre of people found working for Anthony.
Those inside the admin area knew nothing of their entrance until one of the intruding men was spotted. The moment was announced with a scream, which bounced around the room and down the hallway like an alarm bell. With that came the delayed, but still as frantic, shouting and hollering as others became aware of the group invading their world.
Doing exactly as she was told – and nothing more – Phoenix stood by the security door they had entered through and listened as the area quickly erupted with an outpouring of embattled calls. She watched, with guilt, as people ran from wall to wall while they tried in vain to find an escape route.
Without any identifying features, each man represented a unified force of faceless warriors. It had become impossible for her to differentiate between them at all. Anthony had been the second in. Now she had no idea where he was. Two men to the left side had started rounding up people at gun point, while another two in front of her were still ordering their prisoners to lay flat on the ground. All she could do was stand and wait until further orders were forthcoming.
Down the corridor to her right she could hear more loud screams. One of the men had gone off by himself and was obviously finding it hard to contain his little group alone. She spotted one of them edging backward out of the room with his hands up. The man inside ordered the wannabe escapee to stay put, but the back that was presenting itself to the hallway suggested the guy had chosen not to listen.
At such an emotionally heightened state it appeared the threats were falling on deaf ears. Suddenly the guy made a break for it and ran for all his worth down the hallway – in Phoenix’s direction. The only thing stopping him from getting out was her, and she had no desire to shoot. When the man spotted her he slowed but did not stop. It was clear he thought he could take her on by himself.
“Stop,” she said with the tone of a plea more than an order.
Again the man ignored the demand. The nearer he got to her the more she reconsidered her unwillingness to become involved in any of the violence. No-one had yet fired their weapon. It was looking likely that she would be the first to break this silence.
“Please, stop there.” She raised her weapon and held it as still as she could manage. The metal in her hand felt cold and slippery as the sweat undermined her tight grip on it. By now the man was almost upon her, and with a crazed look on his face that told her he would have no qualm with causing her bodily harm to save his own. She could see no other option.
With her eyes closed and the balaclava riding high above her face, she pointed the gun ahead. The second the man bashed into her body she pulled the trigger, having waited until the last possible moment. The explosion that followed thrust her shoulders back and sent the gun flying out of her hands.
But it was another sound and a light spray of warm droplets against her face and body that had caused her eyes to burst open with fright. Her gun was on its way to the floor with an inevitably weighty thud to follow, which had yet to happen. What she heard hitting the floor was a body. And what had hit her was his blood. She became horrified at the sight of a rounded and oozing gouge in the man’s chest, as well as a hole in the side of his head. Her shot had not been the only one that ripped through him, someone else’s had too.
As the man fell away she spotted the smoking gun her accomplice had fired from behind. Both shots had taken chunks from the victim. He landed in a heap on the ground by her feet and stared at her with a look of tortured pain and shock. His hands groped at his wounds, unable to decide which of the two was the worst.
Without even knowing it, she mimicked his every expression as though she were experiencing it along with him. The man then slowly fell back onto his legs, trapping them underneath his own bloodied hulk. He breathed no more.
“Oh shit,” she said, suddenly transfixed by the mess that had stuck to the front of her black clothing. It clumped together in places where more than just blood had been thrown over her. If not for the balaclava she would have received a face full of brain matter. She could feel it all soaking through, threatening to touch her skin, even her mouth. The thought of the man’s blood making contact with her tongue made her gag.
There was nothing she could do to help the guy now. She was stuck in place through shock anyway. He had been deprived of life in two trigger pulls. And it had taken less effort to do so than it would have to point a finger. If he had done what she asked and stopped, surely they would not have had to shoot him at all. Of course if they had not, what would he have done to her? She was the enemy after all.
It became too hard for her to explain away. She had fired and nobody else had really made her. She was to blame for the man’s death. Whether hers had actually been the killer shot or not was irrelevant, it had certainly contributed.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Anthony said. He left his area to investigate the gunshot and stood behind Phoenix.
She turned to him and then back to the body. The area around her face was beginning to feel progressively damp as the itchy woollen balaclava soaked up her tears and the man’s blood.
“He was running at me,” she said. “I didn’t want to shoot him.” Her rapid breathing was causing the material in front of her mouth to heat up even more. She could not find the air to breathe clearly.
“Just calm down. I told you to stay
out of the way.”
“I’m sorry, Anthony–”
“No names, dammit. Just wait here while we round everyone up. For Christ’s sake, I said no shooting. I specifically said that.”
“He was gonna attack her, sir. We had to kill him,” the man who fired the second shot said in her defence. His gesture would have been appreciated if he had not reacted so casually to gunning down an innocent man only seconds earlier. He shared none of the doubts Phoenix had.
Anthony returned to his own area and began to shout at the prisoners to move into the middle of the large room. The noise had lessened as those captured by their masked group realised they were safe if they did as ordered. Whether this was due to the recent use of a weapon or the group’s authority over the situation was a mystery.
So far the body had been kept separate from the others. If they knew one of their own was dead, they possibly would not have been so quiet. The silence was soon broken again when the dead man’s colleagues were led out to join the others, a thoughtless act that elicited a round of gasps and cries as four people were ushered past the still body of their work companion.
One of them, a woman in her thirties with hazel coloured hair, fell to the floor beside the body and patted the dead man’s shirt. Phoenix could only imagine it was to try to force a reaction from the man she had killed in cold blood.
“You didn’t have to kill him,” the woman said through a flood of voice trembling tears. It was not aimed at anyone in particular, although Phoenix expected it was to her.
The woman’s reaction repeated itself on Phoenix’s own face, leading to a fresh pooling of fluid to build against the sides of her nose. She had never killed anyone before, never had to clean another’s blood from her skin. The hazel haired woman was unable to cope with the loss, Phoenix was struggling too. Her reasons were much more selfish than the grieving woman’s however. Her life had suddenly taken on a new meaning. She had become a murderer in less than ten minutes of finding herself storming a building like a well-trained terrorist cell. After this she was never going to disappear without a trace. The entire city would be looking for them.
“Someone grab her for me,” the man said as he pushed and shoved his prisoners away from the murder scene. “Hey, Phoenix, do me a favour would ya?” He had not considered for one second how she was dealing with such an ordeal.
Snapping suddenly into action, Phoenix found a new enthusiasm for the task at hand. She was more involved now than she ever wanted or planned to be, and there was absolutely no going back. The better option was to do her job with her mind on the back-burner. The image of the dead man would just have to wait its turn to rip her emotions asunder. At least she had lost the gun, so no risk of her repeating the last few moments remained.
She pulled the woman to her feet and hauled her along the hallway. Every few steps the woman fell to the floor and refused to walk by herself. All she could do to move the woman was to drag her across the floor. She did not care for prolonging the turmoil any longer than necessary, so moving her away was the only solution.
In the large room sat another ten or so people, all rounded up by the group. They were held huddled together in a large circle on the floor. An armed man not far away was waving his weapon around each of the captives in turn. When the man in front of her threw his lot into the mix, the others took to helping them. The last was the hazel haired woman, still being yanked along by Phoenix. She chose to place the woman down gently by the side.
“Get with the others,” one of the armed men said, followed by a heavy boot up the woman’s behind.
Phoenix reacted automatically, throwing a fist into the man’s face and making contact with his cheek. “Leave her alone, you tosser,” she barked at him. Her arm was too weak to do any real damage to the man – his soft balaclava had absorbed some of the impact anyway. Her retaliation had still sparked his anger in return.
She was forced onto the back-foot as the man hovered above her with his chest pushed out and his breath racing from his nostrils like a nose-ringed bull about to charge. If he had hit her she would have been floored instantly. The reason behind his reserved yet threatening reaction did not become clear until he stepped away. She then saw Anthony’s hand on the guy’s back. He had been the only thing keeping a fist from flying back at her.
“Everyone needs to calm the fuck down,” Anthony said.
The anger inside her had not reduced at all, even though she had had a lucky escape. She glared at the man’s wide and unblinking eyes. They were the only part of him she could see. She was thankful for that. The rest of his face was no doubt amplifying his rage underneath the soft wool. Seeing that would only have made hers worse.
Anthony walked around the larger man, his gun lowered to his side. He turned back and with nothing more than a glance, he ordered the other to walk away. “Listen to me, Phoenix,” he began. “You reacted to a threat, that’s all. The guy’s dead and it was his own fault. I would have fired. Still, I think it’s best if you stay outside. There’s a fire alarm by the door we came in through, go pull it and wait for me there. OK?”
“Fine. You could’ve told me what we were doing here earlier, Anthony. I wasn’t prepared for this. I’m not sure I would have come if you’d told me.”
“Then you’ve answered your own question, Phoenix. After you’re last stunt I wasn’t sure you were still on board. Even though you still owe me, I was willing to let you sit this out. But I changed my mind when you turned up to cause trouble with my followers. That was a mistake. One you won’t be given the chance to make again.”
“Was that a threat?” Phoenix asked – knowing the answer already of course.
“I’m just saying. For now I need you to pull the fire alarm and wait for me. I want you on the roof to see over the connection of my equipment. These people trust you, so make sure they do it right. Do that then we’ll discuss your recent behaviour.”
“And my brothers?”
“That too.” Anthony walked away without a word more.
The threat bounced around the inside of her head as she tried to weigh it up. If serious, then she was now in his debt more than ever before. She would have to earn his trust back. Only to do that would require much too much of her in return. More than she was willing to give him. The only other option was to go it alone, and leave Anthony miles behind. A life looking over her shoulder still sounded better than being involved in his grand plans any longer. She had killed in his name after all. What else would he have her do?
Leaving the memory of her recent misdeed in the room behind her, she closed the door and leaned heavily against it. The handle dug into her back; a tiny pain that only added to a much deeper emotional one. She pulled the blood splattered balaclava away from her head and threw it over the banister, sending it falling out of sight. Now she could cry unhindered and did so with her heart pounding in tandem. She felt completely trapped. When the feeling began to overwhelm her she stuttered amid a deep intake, which induced a staggered sniffle.
The noise in the stairwell was of her crying only, echoing up and down for her to hear alone. Inside the room behind her the screaming had long ago ended. Everything had now become quiet – disturbingly so in fact. She could only assume Anthony was once again performing for a crowd. This time one he literally held captive.
She was set the job of upsetting this peaceful and thankfully uneventful moment by activating the fire alarm. The second group Anthony had mentioned were due to clear out the shopping floors. They would have a much easier job if those there were already on their way out. It made sense. It also suggested another reason other than mere hostage taking behind the plan. Anything that stopped more people dying was OK with her.
After wiping anything that looked or felt like blood from her sweaty face, she got to work again. The red pull switch of the nearby fire alarm clicked down with satisfying ease and immediately set the building ablaze with renewed shouting, this time from below her. Shoppers could be heard racing around
in a panic as they headed for an exit. Her wrist screen began to flash red, the same shade as the blood that had oozed out of the man’s chest earlier.
Above her, an automated message began to play out. “A fire has been reported inside this building. Please evacuate immediately. The Simova network has notified the authorities,” the computerised voice said. It then repeated the message again, before being replaced by a loud siren that made its intentions known through volume rather than tone.
Anthony’s second team needed to do little in securing the downstairs and only the slow would be taken as extra hostages. She knew they would soon be locked inside the shopping complex with the entire city’s attention quickly turning to them. Whatever Anthony had planned, she only hoped his escape plan was as well-thought out. And that everyone involved was included. But she knew they were only half done with whatever was coming.
Waiting in the relative quiet of the stairwell she considered her options. There was no easy route out for her, not while Anthony had something in mind for her to do – not with such fresh blood on her hands either. Her own plan quickly turned again to her chance of escape and that of her brothers. The first opportunity that made itself available to her would be the one she took. At that point Anthony could go fuck himself for what he had dragged her unwittingly into.
* * *
The meeting place they had been sent to was a back alley behind a small row of shops. It was less than an ideal position to meet a drug dealing low life. Still Graham was not about to complain. He and his sister, Ruth, had come for one reason only. At least the spot appeared secluded enough to meet Dino undisturbed.
Pipes high above them dripped a steady flow of leaking water that splashed loudly in a rusty coloured puddle to their side. It had not rained recently, so it was just a sign of poor maintenance. The four storey buildings either side of them provided cover from cameras, even if it was not particularly welcoming to be there. Not least because of the stench of the place. A smell of mould was not the only thing that attacked their sense of smell either. Toward the back was a line of overflowing bins that were filled to the brim, but not emptied recently.
