Deep Water

by Mark Ayre

  "I'm going to give her a signal."

  Thirty-One

  Tony was asking more questions. Abbie hung up and opened the drawer beneath Louis' socks and underwear, retrieving his handgun. Placing the shotgun on the bed, she loaded the pistol. Having reached the hallway, Mr Curious called out again in Spanish. When his words weren't returned, he hesitated.

  Pushing the pistol into her waistband, Abbie moved from the bed to stand in front of the wardrobe, facing the door. The shotgun was heavy. The weight of it in her hands gave her great comfort. It was nice not to have to worry about aiming.

  In the hall, there was a creak as feet seemed to turn, then another shout. It was hard to tell in a foreign language, but the voice's pitch and tone suggested Mr Curious was no longer calling for his dead friend in the bath but for someone downstairs. Perhaps backup. What had he heard of Abbie and the scumbag’s fight? Not enough to bring back up in the first instance, enough to make him reticent to enter the bedroom alone.

  Clearly, he was a believer in better safe than sorry. That was annoying.

  Had Tony stopped babbling after Abbie hung up and rushed to find Louis? That would be ideal. Abbie could use the distraction.

  Another Spanish shout. This one from the foot of the stairs. Mr Curious responded; a couple of seconds later, someone made their way up.

  Earlier, Pedro and his team had hit Louis hard and fast and had killed Jacob almost immediately. After that, Louis had lost interest. He hadn't counted assailants but guessed a dozen men, Pedro included, had attacked his home. If that was the case, there were nine left, with two having departed with Louis and one dead in the bath.

  The new climber reached the top of the stairs and joined Mr Curious. There was a whispered conversation, then another call. Abbie's arms were beginning to ache. She didn't lower her gun or take her eyes from the door. If the men in the hallway tried to enter, Abbie needed to be ready.

  There was another creak, then someone took a couple of steps towards Louis' bedroom.

  At the same time, there was a knock at the front door.

  Hidden near the back entrance, Alice wouldn't have heard. According to the plan, Louis wasn't due to knock for another seven minutes. By then, Tony would be armed with the pistol now in Abbie's waistband. As one, they would have attacked from three fronts, taking Pedro by surprise and securing Alex and Kyle before the criminal knew what was happening.

  Clearly, it wasn't going to work quite like that now. The plan needed to adapt. Luckily, Abbie was used to that.

  Downstairs, someone opened the front door. There was a pause, presumably as Pedro's man tried to process what he saw, then a yell.

  The moment the door had opened, Abbie had started forward. When Pedro's man shouted, she burst from the bedroom.

  The duo in the hall spun her way.

  Downstairs, a shot preceded the door answerer's dying yell by a split second.

  Abbie pulled the shotgun's trigger.

  The buckshot tore one man in half and sliced the other's left side, spinning him. As he dropped, Abbie was pulling the handgun from her waistband. As he rolled onto his back, raising his hands, she shot him twice in the head.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she saw Louis stepping into his home, firing two more shots, sending someone scurrying into the kitchen. A second later, another gun fired and the backdoor burst inwards. There was a cry as Alice poked her head into the kitchen and gunned someone down.

  Louis had his shoulder pressed to the wall and was nearing the living room door. More shots were fired in the kitchen. Someone in the living room approached the hallway, preparing to pop out and shoot Louis.

  They didn't notice Abbie coming down the stairs. Switching from pistol to shotgun, Abbie blew away both a chunk of wall and the sneaking man. Continuing down the stairs, Abbie tried to count kills: one at Alice's house (plus one unconscious, locked in a car boot), three upstairs, one in the downstairs hall, one in the living room and possibly one more in the kitchen. Eight from a possible twelve.

  They heard three more shots in the kitchen. A short silence preceded the appearance of Alice into the hall. When Louis and Abbie looked her way, the determined mother held aloft two fingers, indicating how many men she'd killed. That brought their total to nine.

  Now for the tricky bit.

  "Hello," someone called from the living room. "Hello, are you finished out there? You make such a lot of noise; it's giving me a headache."

  The voice was heavily accented, but the English was perfect.

  "Can I assume," the man continued, "as it is quiet, but my boys don't rejoin me, that my people lost? Are my enemies out there, surrounded by my dead soldiers? That would make me sad."

  Alice was edging up the hall towards the living room door. Abbie remained halfway down the stairs.

  Pedro, because that was who it had to be, tutted. "The silent treatment? Why must you be childish? Can't you tell me who you are? Don't I deserve to know who defeated me?"

  Abbie tried to catch Louis' eye. She knew what was coming next and didn't want any of their cards revealed.

  "Okay," said Pedro. "If you must be like this, then maybe I must kill the boy. Kyle, was it?"

  "No."

  Louis had cried out before Abbie could stop him. From within the living room, Pedro chuckled.

  "Oh, Louis. It is you. This is disappointing; I thought we had an understanding. You let me down by failing to give me the guns, so I killed your boy. I thought that made us even. Now you come here, kill my guys, and I find us uneven again. I have your younger boy, so is the solution not obvious? Do I not put a bullet in his head, and we can call it quits once more? What do you think?"

  "No," repeated Louis. "Please, you don't have to do this."

  Abbie's mind was whirring. Knowing they could waste no time, a new plan was forming.

  Yesterday, before breaking in for her first meeting with Louis, Abbie had surveilled the place. She could use what she'd learned to her advantage now.

  Moving without a sound, she made her way to the bottom of the stairs. Gaining Alice's attention, she mouthed Alex, then formed a circle with her Index finger and thumb and pointed upstairs. Signalling that Alice's daughter was okay was a slight misrepresentation of the facts. Her life wasn't in imminent danger. For now, that had to be enough.

  "You must pay," Pedro continued. "First, you must tell me who is out there with you."

  Abbie placed a hand on Louis' arm, a finger to her lips. He looked frightened. Shook his head. Abbie continued to tap her fingers to her mouth and hoped he would heed her for a minute or more. Turning from him, she looked to Tony in the doorway and to the driveway beyond. It was a quiet, still night. The gunshots would not have been missed. How long before the police arrived?

  "Louis," Pedro said. "Why must you do this? Do you want to make it a game? Okay, here are my guesses. I think you came with Alice and the mystery woman I have heard so much about. Am I right? Are they alive?"

  Pedro waited a three count, then sighed.

  "Tell me now, or I'll put a bullet in the boy."

  "I'm alive."

  It was Alice who spoke, perhaps sensing Louis was going to give away more than was necessary.

  "Alice, how lovely to hear from you. Such a shame our business relationship had to end. I want you to know I didn't come seeking this. Your daughter got in touch. She wanted to continue the relationship."

  Alice was looking at Abbie, who held up her hand and moved her thumb and fingers together in the chatterbox sign. She mouthed, Keep him talking, then leaned into Louis and began to whisper.

  "You should have turned her away,” said Alice.

  "But I couldn't. I need the guns, and Angel was willing to do me a good price for the lot. Where is she, by the way? I hope you didn't kill her. That wouldn't be very motherly."

  "I didn't kill her," said Alice. "She killed Abbie, that's your mystery woman, then went off to verify some information I gave her."

  "About the location of the gu
ns?”

  "That's right."

  "And what did you do?"

  "I killed Max and knocked the other guy, whoever he was, unconscious."

  "Raphael."

  "Whatever. He was not good at his job."

  "Then you should have killed him."

  As Abbie finished whispering to Louis, he shook his head and looked as though he were about to speak. Abbie pressed her finger to his lips.

  Almost inaudibly, she said, "We have to risk it to save Kyle. Go when you hear the bang."

  Alice was saying, "How long are we going to stand here, Pedro? It feels like a waste of everyone's time."

  "What alternative do you propose? You've come to kill me, have you not? But I have the boy, which makes this a stalemate. Where should we go from here?”

  Abbie slipped out the front door, dragging Tony onto the driveway. To the right of the entrance was a large, grand window, covered by curtains. Abbie checked the shotgun, ensuring it would fire at the pull of a trigger, and pressed it into Tony's hands. As his eyes widened in horror at the feel of the gun, the weight of it, Abbie dragged him onto the lawn, in front of those curtained windows.

  "I don't care about you," Alice was saying. “Go. Take the guns if you want. Whatever. All we want is Kyle and Alex."

  Abbie forced Tony onto his knees and angled the shotgun in his grasp into the perfect position.

  "Don't move an inch," she whispered.

  Inside, Pedro said, "Have your daughter; she's upstairs. But how can I trust you’ll let me live if I release Kyle? I cannot. Louis is angry because I ordered his son shot. He will attempt to murder me. Grieving parents are always so unreasonable. Unfortunately, I can see only one way this works. You go upstairs with Louis and join your daughter. I will leave with Kyle. If I see anyone that I don’t like the look of, I murder the boy and start shooting. Otherwise, I’ll release him when we’re away from your nasty guns. What do you say?"

  Still holding Tony's hands in place, Abbie pointed to the corner of the house. "As soon as I disappear from sight, you count to ten. When you reach it, pull the trigger, then immediately jump to the floor, so your stomach and head are flat to the grass. Don't hesitate or move the gun. Just shoot, then hit the deck.”

  "That doesn't work," said Alice. "How do we know you won't kill the boy the moment you're safe?"

  Abbie rose, checked the angle of Tony's gun one more time. As long as he kept it still, the spray of his shot would shatter the windows and pepper the ceiling. Kyle was towards the other end of the living room; Louis' bedroom was on the other side of the house. No one for whom Abbie cared would be hurt.

  As Pedro said, "See what I mean... stalemate," Abbie disappeared around the corner.

  Nervous people asked to count tend to let the numbers slip by too quickly. Even if they are expected to do something they dread at the count's end. With this in mind, Abbie sprinted along the house's sidewall, skipping the first window to which she came, stopping at the second.

  Curtains prevented Abbie from looking inside. Regardless, when Pedro spoke, she knew he was only feet away.

  "I think our negotiations are over," he said.

  Then the living room’s front window exploded, and all hell broke loose.

  Thirty-Two

  When Abbie had entered Louis' room and found Alex tied to the bed, a scumbag in the en-suite, everything had gone wrong, though the plan had seemed watertight.

  After rushing around the corner of Louis' house having asked a frightened man, who had never fired a gun, to let off a shotgun, and a grieving father to take actions that would not only put his own life but his son's in danger, Abbie assumed this plan was destined to fail.

  Which went to show that Abbie might suffer the occasional semi-prophetic dream, but she was no fortune teller.

  Eight seconds after he started counting, Tony reached ten and pulled the trigger. As the window shattered, glass exploding into the living room, Louis charged, screamed, aimed, and fired.

  Upon reaching the window on the house's sidewall, Abbie had crouched down and pointed her gun up towards the lock. As the blast of the shotgun reverberated around the living room and Louis burst in roaring, Abbie fired.

  The lock shattered. Abbie rose, pulled the window open, and threw back the curtain.

  Louis had dropped behind the armchair. His bullets had found one of Pedro's men, who now lay dead over the coffee table.

  Wedged between two Mediterranean men, Kyle trembled and sobbed behind the two-person sofa on which Louis and Alex had the previous day professed for each other their love. A third Spaniard crouched behind the arm of the three-person sofa on which Alice and Tony had sat.

  "That was a mistake," roared Pedro. He was next to Kyle, the furthest from Abbie of the three behind the two-person sofa. His gun was pressed to the boy's head.

  Abbie climbed through the window and strode behind the trio, firing two shots as she went.

  The bullets smashed into Pedro's colleague, crushing him against the sofa.

  Abbie dived, switching her gun to her left hand.

  Pedro's face contorted in shock then rage as his colleague died. Then Abbie was on him.

  Her gun smashed his cheek while her free hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him towards the ground.

  They fell. Pedro fired. Kyle screamed, but the bullet cracked the wall.

  The man behind the arm of the three-person sofa spun, gun outstretched, in time to see Pedro and Abbie land in a heap. They looked to be spooning, with Pedro shielding Abbie from harm.

  Abbie clasped her gun and smashed Pedro's head towards the ground. Keeping behind the mobster, she fired twice into Pedro's final employee.

  Pedro was squirming as Abbie tried to keep his gun arm pressed to the carpet. An elbow smashed her stomach, knocking the wind from her.

  She didn't let go. Rolling onto her back, Abbie yanked Pedro over her stomach and tossed him onto her other side.

  His gun came loose, but Pedro rose before Abbie. Kicked her weapon from her hand and raised a foot to stomp her stomach.

  Roaring again, Louis emerged from behind the armchair and charged across the room, gun outstretched. As Pedro's eyes widened in shock, the grieving father pulled his trigger five times.

  Nothing happened.

  There was a moment of stunned silence as Louis stared at his empty gun. Then Pedro shook his head with disdain.

  "Pathetic."

  Pedro laughed as he said it and was still laughing when Alice stepped into the room and shot him thrice in the torso and once in the head.

  They watched as the Spaniard crumpled to the carpet, blood pouring from his various wounds.

  "Yep," said Abbie, dragging herself up on the sofa. "I think that'll do it."

  Louis ran to Kyle, pulling his younger and surviving son into his arms. Sobbing, they clung to each other on the carpet, surrounded by the dead, rocking slightly backwards and forwards.

  Alice came forward to look at Pedro, as though not willing to believe he was dead until she saw it with her own eyes, despite having seen how many bullets she'd put in his torso and head.

  Confirmation secured, she looked towards the shattered living room window, then to the ceiling. Torn. Abbie understood the problem.

  "Go to Alex," she said. "I'll make sure Tone's alright."

  Alice met Abbie's eye. "Thank you."

  Abbie nodded, then caught the birthday girl's arm before she could leave.

  "You need to know before you go..." Abbie paused, struggling to go on. "She's tied to the bed, naked. There was a guy in there when I arrived. I don't know what he did. I don't know how many of them..."

  Abbie broke off again. There were tears in Alice's eyes, but she came to Abbie, hugged her.

  "Thank you," Alice said again. Then she rushed upstairs to find her daughter.

  Abbie stepped across the living room, over the legs of the dead man on the coffee table and made her way outside.

  After firing the shotgun, Tony had done as asked and
jumped onto his front, burying his face into the grass. Since the shooting ended, he had rolled onto his back and now lay staring at the sky.

  In the distance, Abbie could hear sirens.

  "It's over," said Abbie. "And we have to move out. Police'll be here soon. Even my contacts couldn't clear up this mess."

  "It's not over, though, is it?" said Tony. "The worst is yet to come."

  Abbie didn't know what to say. It was just true. Crossing the lawn, she offered a hand and helped Tony to his feet.

  "I'm sorry for what I said in the bedroom earlier," said Tony. "I had no right to act as though you owed me anything. I don't blame you for saying what you said. You're right; I'm the son of a client to you and nothing else. I should never have let it be more in my head."

  "Forget it," said Abbie. "It was my bad anyway, and whatever, we can discuss it later. Right now, we've got to get going."

  She turned towards the house as the sirens forewarned the police’s proximity.

  "Like you said. The worst is yet to come."

  Thirty-Three

  Alice stood on the spot from which both Ariana and Abbie had earlier fallen, her back to the house her husband had built, her eyes on the black sky and dark, moving ocean.

  Louis and Kyle had stayed to meet the police. Locally, Louis was known to the cops. Pedro was a big fish, wanted internationally. The story was simple: Pedro had arrived and murdered Jacob. Two of his people had left to dispose of the body; the rest had remained with Kyle. Louis had come home in a fury and killed them all.

  It would be hard to believe, but if Louis stuck to his story, it would fly. For the most part, the police would be glad Pedro was gone, and if a few of his cronies had died by his side, so what?

  Jacob's body would be found in a couple of days. Louis wasn't happy about leaving his son in a shallow grave, but it was necessary to sell the story. The men who had taken Louis' son would never be found.

  Angel's part in the murder would remain a secret. Abbie had feared the crook might need convincing to leave Alice's family, especially Angel, out of his tale. He had surprised her by agreeing straight away.