Atlantis Storm

by Steven Moore

  Fifteen yards behind them, the Edgar brothers were closing in.

  34

  Incentives

  Three-and-a-half thousand miles away a sinister conversation was taking place. In an elaborate dining room on the top floor of a building in Murray Hill, Manhattan, Arthur Bannister stood from his seat and walked around the table, leaning against it at the shoulder of his right-hand man, Erik Wheaton. The mood was sombre, but Arthur was in his element.

  They were at The Congregation For The Light's central headquarters, and Arthur Bannister was its current leader.

  "I’ve lost confidence in the members we sent to take care of business in Spain, Erik. If they fail and Bodean discovers our secret, we may never recover. I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen. I have a responsibility to The Light, and our families, and it's my duty to safeguard our secret and preserve our integrity. I'm sending you in, Erik."

  Erik Wheaton stood from his seat. He physically towered over his leader, a man he admired and had looked up to for close to two decades. And yet beneath Arthur Bannister's gaze, what Erik had in size was insignificant to his leader's presence. The man had an almost mythical aura about him, to the point that any member of the family, of The Light, would do anything he asked of them without hesitation. At least they would try. Some members just weren't capable, and Erik questioned whether they shouldn't simply be rid of those weak links as soon as they were discovered. Well, this was his chance. And he was grateful for it.

  "Sir, it will be an honor to go to Spain and finish the job those ... those Edgar imbeciles, couldn't manage. I will leave tonight. The flight is nine hours, so I'll arrive at around two o'clock local time tomorrow. Within twenty-four hours it will be done, you have my word. I will remove our own weaknesses from the equation, and then I will remove Bodean and his girlfriend, and I’ll also dispatch anyone helping them on the ground in Spain. When I'm finished with them, it will be as if they never existed." Erik Wheaton bowed slightly, bringing his head lower than that of his leader, Arthur Bannister.

  "I should have sent you in the first place, my son. But I didn't quite realize how incompetent the Edgar brothers were, and that fool Thomas. Anyway, I know I can rely on you to get it done before it's too late. You know, this important duty won't go unrewarded."

  "Sir? I need no reward. To serve The Light is enough."

  "I know, son, which is exactly why you should be rewarded. Your loyalty is a credit to our family, and will serve as an example to anyone else not committed enough to our cause. When they see you rise, they'll want to rise too. Our family in Boston is in need of a new Lieutenant, Erik. I can see to it that position becomes yours, when, not if, you're successful. As a bonus, you'll get to do with the remaining Edgar family members what you will." Bannister well knew Erik Wheaton's penchant for less savory activities, and knew he wasn't beyond keeping both Edgar family's female members as slaves of the worst kind.

  Wheaton nodded, and if he needed any extra motivation, which he didn't, Bannister had just provided it. "It will be done, sir. I will report back the moment I arrive in Cadiz, and again when the mission is complete. Once again, sir, it's an honor to serve you, and to serve The Congregation For The Light."

  35

  William Wallace

  The Edgar brothers closed in. They were having a little trouble keeping up with Bodean and the girl, but they were persistent, both brothers aware of the dire consequences for them and their families if they failed. Each Edgar was carrying a concealed gun, and this time there would be no mistakes. They would follow them until such a time arrived that they could hustle them out onto a deserted area of the dock behind the market, and they would assassinate them, making fish food of their carcasses. It was either Bodean and the girl, or the Edgar brothers. And that was the easiest choice they'd ever had to make.

  Meanwhile, their fellow member of The Light, Tommy the chef, was paying a visit to Santiago Llorente.

  "Man it's getting warm in here, ain't it?" complained R.B., wafting himself with his hands. "Got myself a real sweat on."

  "It's so crowded, that's why,” agreed Megan. “There’s no air circulating. Let's get out of here. Reckon if we keep heading straight we'll emerge out the back end of the market?"

  "Probably. Straight ahead."

  They surged on through the ever-burgeoning crowds. R.B. figured that the local Spanish people were so used to the baking sun that the heat within the market was more than tolerable. It was hot and humid in Key West most of the year, but there was usually at least a little breeze coming off the Gulf of Mexico that to R.B. made it just about bearable. He turned then, just to make sure they were still heading in what he thought was the best direction, when something caught his eye. Actually, not something. Someone. He spun his head forwards again, and kept walking. He focused his mind on the face he'd seen walking just twenty feet behind them. Where'n the hell have I seen that guy before? He struggled to think where, and needed another look. He slowed his pace a little and angled his head back. But this time he didn't see the same guy. Hmm. It had niggled at something in R.B.'s mind, and he didn't like being niggled. Didn't like it one little bit.

  "Shit," spat Billy Edgar. "I think he saw me." He grabbed his older brother's sleeve and they ducked into one of the side aisles of the market, just as Ryan Bodean looked around again.

  "Are you sure?" asked his brother. "It's damned crowded in here."

  "Yeah, I think so. Son of a bitch saw me."

  "But he doesn't know who you are. How could he?"

  "I know he doesn't, but he saw my face and for a moment he paused, locking eyes with me. He might not know who I am, but he probably saw me on the ship and I'm sure he recognized me."

  "Goddammit, Billy. Then we need to end this. Now. Come on, let's scoot around this way and cut them off at the back exit." The brothers hustled along the aisle adjacent to the one R.B. and Megan were in, pausing at gaps in the market stalls to try and catch a glimpse of Bodean.

  R.B. pulled Megan close as they walked on. He leaned in a little, and whispered in her ear. "Don't look around, Meg, but I think we're being followed. Just keep walking, okay?"

  Megan gasped but immediately regained her composure, fixing her jaw in a determined attitude. "Where are we headed?" she whispered.

  "We've got to try and lose them. I doubt they'd attack us with all these hundreds of people about, but we can't take that chance. We know they've already tried to kill us twice. Just be on your guard, okay?"

  They surged on, R.B. risking a glance behind him, but still he saw nothing. Then out of his peripheral vision he sensed something to their right. It was a blur of movement, but it seemed to be matching their pace. They're following in the next aisle.

  He gripped Megan's hand a little tighter and pulled her along, faster now, dodging in and out of the oblivious market patrons and stall holders. Suddenly Megan's hip accidentally slammed into a fishmonger's backside, just as he was bending over his stall and adding more glimmering fish to the display. He stumbled forwards, face-first into the raw fish, the stand collapsing under his weight. The crowd about them gasped, and Megan spun around, horrified about what she'd done.

  "We can't stop now," growled R.B. "They're right alongside us, and I'm certain there are two of them."

  "Oye, idiotas! Detener, bastardos," came the cry from behind. Hey, idiots. Stop, you bastards. But they didn't stop. Then R.B. had an idea. He slowed Megan to a standstill. "Do you trust me?" he asked, panting from the exertion.

  Megan looked into R.B.'s eyes, anxious about whatever plan he had. But she did trust him. She trusted R.B. with her life. "Yes, I do," was her simple answer.

  "Then go back into that melee. Apologize profusely. Surely one of them will double back to try and get at you. But in that crowd, he won't get to you without being stopped. I'll deal with this other guy and come back for you before anything can happen."

  Megan's eyes were wide with apprehension, but R.B.'s plan made sense. She glanced back at the crowd
. Hundreds of spilled fish glistened on the floor, and the man whose stall she'd helped destroy was on his knees, hands flailing in the air as if appealing to God why there were such idiot bastards in the world. A guy who might have been his son was picking up the fish and dunking them in a huge bucket of water to clean them. She looked back at R.B. and nodded. "Okay. I'll do it. Be careful, R.B. Promise me?"

  "I promise. Now go." And with that, Megan Simons bravely walked back towards the fishmonger, the faces of the crowd around him confirming the type of reception she'd receive when the dangerously enraged man spotted her.

  R.B. waited and watched for movement behind the stalls in the next aisle. His hunch was right. He spotted one of the guys heading back the way they'd come from. The way Megan was going. He took a deep breath. 3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

  And with that, Ryan Bodean sprinted off down the aisle of the market, hoping to catch the remaining attacker unawares.

  "Go after the girl," demanded Wallace Edgar, the older brother of William. They'd been teased in school about being named William and Wallace, after a hero of the Scot’s battle for independence from the English, the legendary William Wallace. That he was allegedly a brave warrior didn't help their cause. But it did make wildly different characters out of them. The younger Edgar, William, or Billy, was a meek kid who never fought back against the bullies. His nickname Billy was appropriate, as he'd certainly became a Billy-no-buddies by the age of ten. As for Wallace, well he turned into the kind of bully Billy hated, and anyone that dared call Wallace Wally inevitably had their nose walloped.

  He had risen quickly up the ranks of The Light's security family, and though it went against his softer, more gentle nature, Billy had followed suit. It was a case of following orders or being expelled from the family, and unless he wanted to be disowned by his protective brother Wallace, Billy had to step up. He soon developed a penchant for cruelty, starting out by pulling the wings off wasps and the legs off spiders. That soon escalated to tying up stolen kittens in bags and throwing them in the river. The Light didn't exactly approve of such behavior, but the higher-ranked members of the family ignored it, knowing this more sinister skill-set might one day come in useful. That was definitely the case with Wallace Edgar, and he was about to prove it.

  He set off at a canter after Ryan Bodean. He thought that from a distance they appeared to be more or less a physical match, but that didn't concern Wallace. He knew he could rip Bodean's head off with his bare hands if needed. He also had a gun. And he would use it. He surged on, suddenly unsure of where R.B. had gone. The market was getting darker and narrower. The stalls also became smaller as the end of the building came into view. Now there were only one or two people lingering around, as if they'd already closed their stalls for the day. Wallace slowed to a walk, scanning all directions for a sight of Bodean. He could not let him get away now.

  R.B. paused and ducked behind a stall directly along the aisle his pursuer was taking, far enough ahead of him that he had a few seconds to catch his breath. R.B. wasn't a fighter, though there'd been a fair few bar fights over the years. "I never started it," he'd often say, "but I usually finished it." He didn't want to fight today. He just wanted to incapacitate the thug and get the hell back to Megan. He glanced around for a weapon. Nope. All he saw were a few discarded weighing scales and a couple of rotting fish. Hmm…

  Wallace surged on, slow and cautious, eyes straining against the burgeoning darkness. Then he heard a noise behind him and spun on his heels, surprised to see a large fish shining under the bare bulbs hanging high above. That wasn't there just now, was it? he thought, and turned, only to be greeted with the flat bottom of a huge bronze scale that knocked him to the ground in an unconscious heap.

  R.B. stepped over the stricken body, and for good measure, slammed Wallace once more around the head with the scale. Grabbing some loose cables from the floor next to the nearby market stall, R.B. spent a couple of seconds tying his assailant's hands together and then to a sturdy metal pole of the market stall, and satisfied it would buy him enough time to get to Megan and get them the hell out of there, he sprinted back through the market as fast as his legs would carry him.

  But he was too late.

  36

  Hooked

  Billy Edgar was closing in on Megan Simons. Killing didn't come as naturally to the younger brother as it did to Wallace. Yet he knew well that when The Light was involved, it was almost certainly a case of kill or be killed. He didn't believe either Bodean or the girl would, or could, kill him, but if they didn't kill them, The Light would make them pay with their lives. And that wasn't even the worst part. With Billy dead, he knew that his remaining family—his wife and daughter—would forever be at the mercy of The Light. That was something he couldn't allow to happen.

  Megan approached the fishmonger whose day she'd accidentally ruined. She genuinely wanted to apologize and pay him for his losses, but right now that wasn't the most important thing. She needed him and the crowd to potentially save her life.

  "Seńor, lo siento ... I am sorry," she said as she made her way towards him through the gathered crowds, not missing the dozens of angry sneers angled her way from the onlookers. The fishmonger heard the woman's voice and stood up, turning to face her. "I am very sorry," Megan repeated.

  The man took a couple of aggressive strides towards her, then paused. He hadn't seen her face until now. He'd only seen her from behind as she and R.B. ran away. Immediately he softened. She was beautiful.

  "Seńor, I am very sorry, it was an accident," she pleaded. "Lo siento." She took out her wallet, showing the man the cash. He quickly realized she was attempting to pay him back, and he smiled. He was a man in his fifties with a daughter Megan's age, and she reminded him of her. And then his face hardened again, for right behind Megan he spotted a man approaching, apparently with murder on his mind.

  "The girl is mine," Billy barked, and pushed through the crowd, grabbing Megan's arm with force. "I will take her. She is ... we’re sorry for the mess."

  Megan tried to shake away Billy's arm, but he was strong. She looked hard at the fishmonger, pleading with him to understand the situation. He stared back at her, acknowledgment in his eyes.

  "No, seńor, I do not think so. Let go of her, now!" the fishmonger demanded. "She belongs to me."

  Billy Edgar grinned, and with two sudden movements he was wielding a long knife that glinted beneath the dozens of bare bulbs hanging from the market's ceiling. "No, amigo. She goes with me," and with that he thrust the knife under Megan's chin, drawing gasps from the crowd and a trickle of blood from Megan's pale skin.

  The grizzled fishmonger's eyes grew wide with rage. How dare this bastardo come to our market and start making demands. Not on my shift, he thought, and took a step forward. Megan flinched as the blade was shoved harder against her skin, and the fishmonger paused, not daring to take another step closer.

  Just then Ryan Bodean sprinted into view. Realizing what was going on, he slowed to a walk, pausing a few feet from where Billy held Megan. He made eye contact with her, imploring with her to stay calm while he figured out what to do. But the situation didn't look good. He was unarmed. Edgar had a knife. One wrong move could prove disastrous. R.B. thought hard for a second. Then he made his move.

  "Hey, asshole. I met your brother. Nice fella, ain't he? Well, he was." R.B. stared at Billy, waiting for a reaction.

  Billy's eyes narrowed, eyebrows curling into a frown. "What do you mean, was?"

  "I think you know what I mean." R.B. held the stare.

  Billy Edgar blinked several times, as if processing what Bodean had said. "Where is he?"

  "He's back there, sleeping it off. Well, I think he's asleep. But before I put him down he told me to get rid of you. Said you were a worthless piece of shit and that he was ashamed you were his brother. I thought it sounded a little harsh, but now I've seen you up close ... "

  "You're lying. He wouldn't say that," retorted Billy, though doubt had crept into his mind
. It wouldn't have been the first time Wallace had said that about his younger, weaker brother.

  "Guess we'll never know now, eh?" teased R.B. "Still, I can see why he'd say that. Holding a knife to an unarmed woman? Not very manly, is it."

  Billy flinched, his tense muscles inadvertently thrusting the knife dangerously against Megan's throat. R.B. flinched too. Amid the drama, no one noticed the fishmonger edge his way behind a couple of the onlookers and disappear out of view.

  "Why don't you just let her go? Maybe you can get to your brother in time to save him, eh? Or finish him off? After what he said about you, maybe that's a better choice? Maybe you'll become a man ... "

  That insult was too much for Billy Edgar, who released Megan from his grip and took two steps towards R.B., the knife held out ready to attack. But that's as far as he got, before the fishmonger slammed him so hard around the back of the head with a twelve-inch shark hook that he crumpled to the unforgiving floor of the market, out cold.

  Megan ran to R.B. and threw her arms around him, pulling him in hard. Over her shoulder the fishmonger and R.B. locked eyes, and R.B. nodded his gratitude. The fishmonger, whose name was Javier, winked and nodded back.

  “Gracias, seńor,” offered R.B.

  "De nada, seńor, de nada." It’s nothin’, mister.

  With the two Edgar brothers incapacitated, R.B. wondered whether they should turn them over to the police, and he asked Javier.

  "No, seńor, not the police. Not good for us. Most people here have no license for market. Bad business. Leave them to me. I know what to do with them." He winked again. R.B. didn't know what Javier meant by that cryptic message, but frankly he didn't care. They had tried to kill him and Megan. Multiple times. They deserved to rot in hell as far as he was concerned.