Cold Heart

by Sean-Paul Thomas

  Clark continued to ponder about what his next move might be. After the phone call from Jonas half an hour earlier, Clark had begrudgingly cancelled his son’s birthday party on the spot and evacuated all guests, children and parents, from the premises immediately, citing a parliamentary emergency meeting that needed to be held at his house that very afternoon as an excuse. He hated himself for hurting the feelings of his young son and spoiling his big day like that, but he promised him, along with all the disappointed children and guest parents, that he’d soon throw another one, an even bigger and better party the following weekend for sure. Better safe than sorry he thought. If this woman did eventually turn up at his doorstep and tried to do something stupid and irrational and embarrass him in public, then the less people that saw her and knew about her, the better.

  Plus, children getting hurt or scared in the fracas, if indeed a single white female all on her own could really make any kind of the threatening fracas at his home—which he severely doubted. Well, not before he had time to put a swift end to it all. But if she could cause any kind of stir or panic, no matter how slight, then it might ultimately damage his political career and dreams of running the country one day, especially if there were any witnesses around who could sell such a damaging story to the press.

  In the end though, Clark felt the spontaneous decision to clear everyone out had been the correct one. Clark ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as he continued to stare at Estelle’s glaring eyes on the screen. He still hadn’t seen the bitch blink once and her smug audacity was beginning to creep right underneath his skin. How dare she come to his home uninvited! How dare she just show up like that? Just like her fucking sister had during the last few months.

  “Okay. Go down to the front gate and bring her up to me. Let’s hear what this stupid cunt has to say. Let’s see how much money she wants. Because they always want fucking money. Once we get her inside and hear her out, then we’ll decide what the hell to do with her.”

  The beefy security guard nodded. He stood up onto his feet, ready to take action. In his haste, Clark suddenly remembered what Jonas had briefly mentioned in the frantic phone call earlier. That this wasn’t any normal kind of woman they were dealing with. She had skills. She was a ruthless and dangerous individual; Jonas had tried to make adamantly clear that fact. And she might need to be handled with care and caution, even though it sounded so laughable in his head as she stood all alone and unarmed outside his gates.

  By the look of her—average height, slim athletic build and not overly pretty or feminine features—Clark didn’t believe for one second that she was anymore of a threat to him than a slight infestation of rats and mice in his home. What the hell could she do against a security team of six, with more brutes on their way? What could she really do? This wasn’t a bloody action movie, he almost chuckled arrogantly to himself. This was fucking real life.

  But still. Something didn’t quite sit right and grated gnawingly away at his intuition. She was here, right outside and seemingly unafraid of what lay in wait for her within his pearly steel gates. But he was prepared to take the risk. Just to get her off the street and away from any nosy neighbors who might be watching with their bloody iPhone. Clark rested his hand upon the shoulder of his top bodyguard just as he was about to leave the room.

  “Just take a little caution when apprehending her, okay?” Clark casually stated. “Jonas mentioned something like she’d almost killed him and waffled some nonsense about taking out a couple of Luke’s boys last night at the football. Although, make of that what you will.”

  The beefy security guard nodded firmly back at him.

  “Will do, sir.”

  But he didn’t look as if he’d taken any of what Clark had said on board. He was an ex-marine who had served on the front line over in Iraq a decade ago, so he could sure as shit handle some angry and aggrieved single white female, regardless if it was her time of the month or not.

  ***

  Back out at the main front gates, the beefy security bodyguard along with a second younger and slimmer bodyguard casually strolled down towards the gates to meet Estelle. Both of the men held a handgun each down by their sides. They felt a little stupid drawing their weapons on a lone woman, but better safe than sorry. As far as they were concerned, they just couldn’t see the threat.

  The first beefy bodyguard stopped on the opposite side of the gate to Estelle. With her hands still high up in the air she’d watched both men as they’d exited the front door of the house and begun their trek towards her.

  “Are you armed?” said the first beefy bodyguard, raising his gun a little but not pointing it directly at her.

  “Nope.” Estelle casually replied not taking her eyes away from him.

  “Lift up your hoody and t-shirt? Let me see your ankles too.”

  Without question, Estelle did exactly what the bodyguard told her. She lifted up both her trouser legs and way up past the ankles too just for good measure before showing the guard her naked torso and lower back with a slow twirl. When she was done, the second bodyguard closest to the buzzer pressed the button on his side of the gate to let her in. The gates began to open. Both guards raised their guns to point their barrels firmly at Estelle’s upper body.

  “Keep your hands up.”

  Estelle did as they asked as the guards beckoned her to walk in through the open gates and further towards them. The second slim guard kept his gun pointed firmly at Estelle as the beefy guard began patting her down over every square inch of her body. All the places that she hadn’t exposed and shown them, including her groin and backside. Her inner thighs, the back of her knees. Then her tight sports bra and breasts. Estelle didn’t batter an eyelid. It was like she had expected the guards’ every single predictable move.

  Back up in the security room, Clark watched everything that was happening with hawk-like eyes up on the main security monitor. Almost like he was expecting the unexpected. He felt utterly relieved though when nothing out of the ordinary happened and his guard finally finished his thorough checks.

  “She’s clean,” the beefy guard called out before turning to the camera up on the pillar and giving it a big thumbs up. It was in that sly moment that Estelle caught both men completely off guard. In the blink of an eye she whipped out the two, short, sharp, dagger like pins that were holding her hair up into a tight bun.

  In a rapid motion, she swiftly stabbed the first beefy guard straight in his ribs then into his neck and throat. Before his blood had even begun to splatter and spray out onto the concrete driveway below, Estelle had thrown her second dagger with a torpedo-like speed straight into the other shocked guard’s throat and well before he’d even thought about raising his own gun to fire back at her.

  Estelle watched with little emotion as the first beefy guard dropped to the floor, desperately trying to clutch the deeply severed slash wound on his neck and stem the blood flow. But it was impossible. Estelle stepped over towards the second guard who was still standing and clutching his neck too. She took his hand gun from his weak grasp and without hesitating shot him dead, straight through his forehead. From behind her, the first guard was still spluttering on the deck, holding his neck for dear life as the blood swiftly drained out of his dying body.

  Estelle didn’t even think twice about shooting him dead either, straight through the skull and putting him out of his misery like a lame old horse. It was clear as day that she wanted no witnesses left alive that afternoon.

  Back up in the security room Clark felt like he was about to throw up as his guts turned inside out. He couldn’t believe what he’d just saw happening to two of his best men in a matter of seconds. Something almost impossible, that it had to be seen to be believed. How had he been so stupid to underestimate this woman? What the hell was he thinking? Jonas had been right all along. He should have taken much more care and heeded the detective’s caution.

  Clark continued to panic. This was serious shit. He turned to his other four remaining
bodyguards who were all standing at the first-floor landing awaiting their orders. They hadn’t yet seen or heard what had just happened to their two comrades out on the front driveway. Clark rushed onto the landing. His anxious pale expression told the rest of the men everything that they needed to know. The shit had indeed well and truly hit the fan.

  “She just killed John and Bradley. Knifed them in their fucking throats and shot them both in the fucking head like they were nothing. Fucking nothing! You have to take her out. Just take her the fuck out and end this.”

  Wearing confused and worried expressions, the four remaining bodyguards all drew their weapons and hurried down the main staircase of the mansion and towards the front of the house. Clark hurried to his wife Victoria and his son Phillip who were both waiting for him inside the main bedroom at the rear end of the first floor. Clark burst into the bedroom, making the two of them jump with fright at his anxious presence.

  “Get in the bathroom and lock the fucking door!” Clark cried.

  Victoria looked terrified as hell as she hugged Phillip even tighter against her body.

  “What’s going on, Clark? Why can’t you just call the police?”

  Clark appeared too stunned for words. He glanced away feeling slightly ashamed. He didn’t know what to do or say. Everything was happening so damn fast before his very eyes. He couldn’t even think straight anymore. If he called the police then his political life and career could be over. If he did nothing and his bodyguards couldn’t dispatch Estelle, the scenario could be even graver. He might lose both his political life and his physical one. His only hope was that if his bodyguards couldn’t dispatch Estelle then Luke and his gang of heavy’s would arrive here soon enough and do the job for them. But surely it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Is this about Phillip?” Victoria pleaded, interrupting his train of thoughts. “Is it?”

  Clark glanced down fearfully at his one and only son who was now gazing obliviously away in another direction entirely. Victoria glanced down at her son too and gently ran her fingers through his soft brown hair.

  Outside the main front door of the old Georgian house, one of the braver security guards cautiously exited the front door while the other three covered him with their guns from the back of the beautiful marble-tiled hallway. Before the guard could even glance left or right or even get a half decent feel of what the hell he was supposed to be on the lookout for, Estelle side stepped out from behind a large stone pillar directly beside the main front door. She shot him straight through the side of his head, shattering his skull and blowing half his brains out onto the opposite pillar and killing him outright.

  The other three bodyguards still inside the hallway all began spraying bullets in a mad panic through the opened front door and surrounding wall. Estelle ducked behind the thick pillar again. She took cover there before taking a swift glance up at the small stone roof, right above the main doorway that both pillars outside the front door were supporting, while the massive blitz of gunfire continued to riddle the open oak front door and the hallway walls around it.

  After a wave of non-stop firing and a third changing of their rounds, the three remaining guards suddenly ceased their fire. They looked worried as hell. One of them even nudged the other to edge closer towards the front door and take a quick peek. See if anyone was still alive out there.

  Reluctantly at first, the second guard did as he was asked by his two superiors. Mainly because he was the newest member to their small security team. He progressed forward, ever so gently, forcing his body right up against the hallway wall with every new step towards the blasted-to-hell front door.

  After a deep breath, he took a quick darting glance through the open doorway and out into the deathly quiet front yard. Nothing happened. There was no sign of anyone. Everything seemed looked peaceful and still. The guard took a deep breath and egged himself further outside and onto the stone porch. Once he stepped fully out, he saw the body of his fallen colleague lying face down and sprawled out in a pool of his own blood and brains, his head still bleeding while a trail of skull fragments and more bits of brain matter trailed up the outside wall on his right hand side.

  The guard stepped further into the open. Still he couldn’t see any sign of Estelle or any other movement for that matter. He still wasn’t entirely sure who he was even looking for. He took a second to turn around and glance up at the front door, stone roof covering, the one supported by the two thick pillars either side of the front door. Still nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes moved further up towards the first-floor window, directly above the main front door.

  The guard froze where he stood.

  Estelle stood eerily still behind the broken window while gazing down right at him. Just as he noticed her pointing her gun, she shot him in the face, killing him outright. She had obviously shimmied her way up the full length of second door pillar and onto the rainfall roof covering before smashing in the nearest first floor window and climbing inside during the recent gunfire.

  The two remaining guards heard the single fatal gunshot from outside the house. They both stood up and edged a little closer towards the front door. Fully alert. When they reached the doorway, they saw the lifeless figures of both their fallen comrades. But before they could even glance at each other for answers or an explanation, Estelle appeared on top of the main staircase from directly behind them. Quietly and calmly she dismounted the stairs while pointing her gun at the two remaining bodyguards. She waited until they had fully turned around to face her before shooting them both dead where they stood. One shot each to their heads.

  Estelle dismounted the remainder of the stairs. She threw away the first of her empty new handguns and took another from one of the dead bodyguards now bleeding out all over the marble tiles. She turned around and made her way back up the staircase again with an eerie and callous aura. Her kill switch had well and truly been flicked. She was zoned into full killer mode now and there was no coming back. Back up on the first floor Estelle stepped towards the nearest closed door at the rear end of the house. She kicked the first door open, but couldn’t see anyone inside. Not even hiding underneath the bed or inside the closets.

  She kicked open a second closed door right at the back of the house. Inside the spacious and well-lit bedroom, a terrified looking Clark stood right beside the large back window while guarding the locked ensuite bathroom. He held a small handgun in his right hand but didn’t seem too comfortable handling it as it began to shake vigorously in the grip of his hands and fingertips. Estelle casually approached him. Clark began shaking so much that he carelessly dropped the gun at his feet before quickly raising his arms in surrender.

  “Please. Don’t kill me,” Clark pleaded.

  Estelle hesitated. Then in a flash her mind filled with so many horrifying images. When she closed her eyes for just a second, she saw her sister, but not as an adult anymore, rather the eleven-year-old version of her that she remembered, only now it was that young little girl drowning in the river Clyde. She helplessly watched as the little girl struggled wildly, waving her arms this way and that, desperately trying to keep her head well above the rough surface of the lapping waves. Most tragically of all, Estelle saw her baby sister calling and crying frantically out for Estelle to come and save her…

  but she wasn’t coming. No one was coming.

  A single tear trickled out from Estelle’s cold blue eyes. She blinked hard, desperately trying to fight her tears away, but she couldn’t stop that one damn tear from eventually streaming down the length of her cheek.

  Estelle raised her gun and shot Clark four times. Once in each arm. Then once in each leg. His kneecaps to be precise. Clark dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks in a crippled heap of pain and blood. Estelle stepped closer towards him. As she approached and hovered over his bloodied broken body and hysterical screams, she slowly turned her attention back to the locked bathroom on her right.

  Clark did his best to compose his agony and cease his scre
ams.

  “Please,” he begged. “Don’t hurt them. Please, don’t hurt my family. They had nothing to do with this.” He continued to plead.

  Estelle ignored his pleas and kicked open the bathroom door. She froze for a second when she saw Clark’s wife, Victoria, holding her little son Philip tightly in her arms while they sat inside the empty steel bathtub in the far corner of the bathroom. Estelle looked taken aback. She’d forgotten about the woman and the little boy from the picture in amongst the carnage and chaos of the last few minutes. And now they were both cradling and huddling up together right in front of her. What baffled Estelle most of all though was the actions of Clark’s wife as she covered her little son’s ears but not his eyes. It was a curious gesture. In fact, the little boy didn’t seem to notice Estelle standing there in the doorway, pointing a gun right at him and his mother, at all.

  “Please, no!” Clark raged again and implored at the top of his lungs.

  Estelle shook herself right out of her hesitation. She took aim at Clark’s wife and young son.

  “I’m sorry. But there will be no witnesses here today.”

  It wasn’t the first time Estelle had killed a mother and a child. Nor did she ever believe it would be the last as her thoughts drifted back to Egypt, only a week ago and the family of three she’d erased from existence with so much ease that she couldn’t even remember their names anymore.

  Estelle shook those thoughts away as she took aim again. Why the fuck was she hesitating. She never hesitated. On the other side of the door, Clark’s entire face twisted and contorted with pain and anguish as he tried to move, crawl and slide his body, yet he was helpless to do anything bar sit and watch. He couldn’t even move his limbs an inch while he slowly bled to death himself.

  “Wait. Please. I beg you. I beg you. Please… Do you know who that boy is? Do you? You must know who he is.” Clark roared with all the life left burning inside him. With her finger still resting firmly upon the trigger, Estelle hesitated again. There was something in Clark’s desperate tone and manner that made her think twice.