The Twelve

by D A Walmsley

  “We’ve already had a look round,” the small man informs Jude.

  “Really?” Jude says, surprised.

  “Yeah, one of your carpet fitters let us in.”

  “How did you know it’s available?”

  “We hear things, now do you have an office kid, where we can talk in private?”

  Jude’s stomach starts to churn, he has an uneasy feeling about this. He shows them into his office and offers them a drink.

  “The receptionist has already offered us one,” says the small man.

  “So what kind of business do you have?” He knows the answer. As soon as he saw them he knew.

  “Customs and Excise, but I’m guessing you knew that,” says the tall man.

  Jude nods, “The problem is, the council has regulations on what type of businesses can or cannot operate in this part of the district.”

  He searches his desk for the relevant paperwork. Jude is not known for neatness, his whole desk is one large pile of folders, reports and bike magazines.

  “I’m sure I have a copy here somewhere.”

  The receptionist comes in with the drinks. After she leaves the tall man gives his friend a nod, who then takes his drink and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. The man takes out a gun, and puts it down on the desk. Jude knows all about collectors, what they are capable of and what they can get away with. It’s common knowledge that they carry nine millimetre Jericho’s. Jude stares at it with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

  “Now kid, are you going to help me or am I going to have to be a little more persuasive?”

  “There’s nothing I can do,” Jude says apologising.

  “Wrong answer, you can always do something.”

  The man picks up his gun, stands up and moves towards Jude, who starts to back away. The man’s hand reaches out and grabs Jude’s throat, squeezing it in a vice like grip. He is slightly smaller than Jude but his strength scares him. The man forces the Jericho hard into Jude’s temple.

  The searing pain makes him want to shout out but he is unable to because of the hand around his throat. He starts to struggle for breath, the pressure on his windpipe not letting up, the pain makes thought impossible and just as he starts to pass out, the man lets go and releases his grip. Jude falls to the floor, gasping for air. As if nothing had just happened the man picks up a bike magazine from the desk and flicks through it.

  “So you’re into bikes, I don’t much care for them myself, but I did notice you arrived on a Harley this morning, very nice and expensive. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to it now would you?

  Jude’s throat is burning but he manages to groan out “up yours!”

  “The rich kid’s got some fight in him, I’m impressed.”

  With that he kicks Jude in the stomach. Jude groans. Next the man knocks the computer onto the floor, smashing it up with his foot, laughing. “Didn’t really want to rent your offices kid, they were too small for what we need, I just don’t like little rich kids.”

  He goes and opens the office door.

  Pointing his Jericho he says, “Oh and I don’t like being lied to, this area doesn’t have any regulations about tenant businesses.”

  Jude stares up at him as the man says “kid, consider yourself lucky, usually when I’ve finished with someone, even the Miracle Man couldn’t help them.”

  When staff see the men leaving, both holding guns, the receptionist rushes into Jude’s office, as a secretary goes to get his dad.

  “Are you alright? What happened? Shall we call the police?” Jude is bombarded with questions. He struggles to talk, but insists he’s okay and doesn’t want the police involved. Anyway what would they do - this stuff goes on all the time.

  He is slowly helped up onto his chair, as a secretary picks up the bits of computer scattered over the floor.

  His dad comes rushing in, “Jude, what the hell happened?”

  “Check the bike.” Jude croaks.

  “What?”

  “Check it’s OK.”

  Simon points to a young man, standing by the door. “Paul, go and check his bike, and my car.”

  A bump is starting to appear on Jude’s temple and the mark from the gun is clearly visible.

  “I’m getting you to the hospital,” his father says.

  Jude shakes his head, “I’ll be fine, really.”

  His dad helps Jude into his own office where there is a comfortable leather suite, then he calls a doctor friend.

  Jude starts to get his voice back slowly and manages to tell his dad all that has happened, including the part where he lied to the men, claiming they couldn’t have an office in the building because of some regulations.

  The young man comes into the office to report on the bike, “it has been pushed over and there’s a few scratches, it took two of us to lift it up,” adding “your car is untouched.”

  Jude had thought they would trash it completely so he was actually quite pleased. One thing did puzzle Jude, what had the man meant when he said “even the Miracle Man couldn’t help them.”

  The doctor arrives and checks Jude over. Although his throat is fine, when the doc gently presses his rib cage and Jude flinches, he is sent for an x-ray just to be safe. While Jude is at the hospital his dad will arrange for the Harley to be taken to the garage to have the damage fixed.

  * * *

  Arriving back from the hospital he winces as his mother carefully helps him on to a lounger in the conservatory. No broken ribs, that’s a relief. Looking out at the hills of Judea with the warmth of the morning sun on his face, he realises he got his day off after all. Unfortunately his head feels like it wants to explode and every time he moves, or even breathes too hard, it’s like he’s being stabbed. This is very similar to the last time he came off his bike, but there are some major differences, his mother and Sarah. While his mum looked after him before and helped him recover there was always the implication of you’ll learn. Sarah was pretty much the same. This time he is the victim, so nothing is too much trouble. Every time he winces it’s “Oh my poor baby, what can I get you?” Sarah has gone to get him his favourite magazines and some chocolate, whilst his mum makes sure he’s as comfortable as possible. Once the painkillers kick in he might start to enjoy this.

  Sarah returns with a bag full of goodies for him. She enters the conservatory and puts her soft manicured hand gently on his head and bends down to give him a kiss. They first met at high school and the moment he saw this blonde haired beauty, wearing a short skirt to show off those amazing legs, he could think of nothing else. He made up his mind right then and there that this was the girl for him, but it took more than his good looks and charm to get Sarah. She wanted to see the real Jude, the person nobody else saw. So when he realised she wanted a kind, thoughtful, honest and considerate boyfriend that’s what he became, to her anyway.

  To Jude she was the best thing to have, any other girl would have been second best. Right from an early age his father kept telling him and his sister they could have anything they set their hearts on. Nothing was out of reach, they just had to grab it. His sister has done just that by marrying a very successful stockbroker and now has everything she ever wanted: money, big house and nannies to look after the kids.

  Sarah sits down next to him and starts to show him what she’s bought: choc’s, crisps, two bike mags Street Bike Monthly and Super Bikes, The Life newspaper and a very big get well card. In it she’s written a love poem expressing her innermost thoughts.

  “So you didn’t get me any bottled water like I asked?”

  “I can go back out and get some if you want?”

  “Oh would you, that’s great babe.”

  He picks up the paper, the front page story is about the Temple in Jerusalem. He is just about to throw it down when to his amazement he notices the words Miracle Man. The paper goes into details of the man’s actions, and quoted what he’d said, that if they tore down the Temple he would rebuild it in three days. There’s more
about this same man turning water into wine at a wedding up in Galilee. They report that there are claims that this man can heal the sick, cure cancer and fix broken bones just by placing his hands on people. There are eye witness accounts claiming that he can talk to evil spirits and cast them out, whatever that means.

  So that’s what the collector had meant by Miracle Man. Later when I can move around a bit more I might go on the Internet and see if there’s anything else about this guy. Maybe he could heal my ribs?

  Simon gave Jude the rest of the week off, but on Monday morning he is expecting him to be at his desk, no excuses. Jude had overheard his parents talking about how well he dealt with the incident. His dad thought something as traumatic as having a gun pressed into ones skull would send some people into counselling for months. It wasn’t all positive though, both his parents noticed a change in him.

  Jude is completely unaware of his fathers presence until his music stops.

  “Oh, Shi…t Dad, what are you doing here?” He jumps putting pressure on the ribs and grimaces.

  “You shouldn’t have this thing so loud, it’s got to be bad for your ears. Anyway pal, it’s my house.”

  “So what do you want?” Jude asks.

  “Nothing, just had to be here for a delivery.”

  “Oh,” Jude turns back to the computer. Simon comes over to see what his son is looking at.

  “What’s all this then?”

  “Research.”

  “On what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Right, on nothing, that means it’s something. Come on, let your old man have a look.”

  Jude sighs and shows his dad.

  On the screen is a family tree. Simon studies it.

  “I don’t recall any Josephs on my side of the family and I’m sure there’s none on your mothers.” He picks up some papers Jude has printed out about the Miracle Man.

  “Jesus, Joseph, Mary. You’ve found out who this man is then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, what have you found out?”

  “That people say he’s from Nazareth, but he was actually born in Bethlehem at the same time that Herod heard a new king had been born. He disappeared for a while, but it looks like it’s the same man who turned up in Nazareth.”

  He searches around his desk, but can’t find what he wants.

  “The ancient prophesies say the Messiah will come from Bethlehem, right?”

  Simon nods in agreement.

  “And they say he also comes from David’s line, right?”

  Again his dad agrees.

  “This guy hits all the buttons,” he points to the screen, scrolling up the family tree.

  “Right back to David, and I’ve read that some say right back to Abraham himself.”

  “Just be cautious son, others have said that they’ve found The One only to be ultimately disappointed. Many have come and gone. When I was young, there was a man we all thought was The One. I can’t even remember his name now.”

  Over the weekend Jude’s bike is returned and he has recovered enough to go out on it. The bruising has started to come out and on Monday he will have to go back to work, only he doesn’t want to. The more he has read about this Jesus, the more he convinces himself he is the real deal. The whole country is talking about him, every TV programme is examining him in detail. John the Baptist certainly thinks he’s The One, mind you a lot of people think John is also The One.

  Jude knows that one day he has to stand apart from his father. To make a name for himself. If he wants to get close to this Jesus it’s going to be tough,as he’s already been to Jerusalem and there’s no doubt all the who’s who of the Capital will be positioning themselves round him trying to gain favour. Jude doesn’t want to miss out. If this guy’s for real, the whole country will see amazing things happen and he wants to be there, right at the centre. He hasn’t gotten this excited about something for a long time and he has started to realise, while reading all the reports, that this is what he wants to do. He believes he has the personality, charm and talent to convince this Jesus guy that he is worth having around.

  The latest information Jude has is that Jesus has gone back to Capernaum in Galilee. So that’s where he must go, bruised ribs and all.

  Later, when he tells his parents his plans, they are cautious, but supportive. They know he is ambitious, that’s how they’ve brought him up. His dad even offers to look after him financially while he checks this guy out. His mother wants nothing but the best for him and if he’s happy then she is. The reality is, Jude knows they both think he will be back home within a couple of weeks, that he’ll soon get fed up with being surrounded by strangers and living out of a holdall.

  To Jude this isn’t a trip or a holiday. To him this is real, he’s never failed at anything so why would he come back and carry on as if nothing has happened. The difficulty will be telling Sarah. They’ve arranged to go out on the Sunday night, when he’ll tell her his plans. Even though he’d been talking about this Jesus for the last couple of days he’s never told her what he was really thinking.

  Sarah picks him up in her Fiesta and they go to see a film just like most Sunday nights. Afterwards they go to the bar next door, where Jude is going to tell her. He wished he had done it earlier because he couldn’t concentrate on the film, and he knew she could tell something was bothering him.

  He gets a Sarah a coke and he has a pint of Goldstar.

  “Don’t go,” Sarah tells him. Jude is taken aback, how does she know?

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you Jude, more than you realise. I don’t want you to leave.”

  He’d been rehearsing his goodbyes for days and now she’s caught him out, what should he say?

  “It’s only for a while, babe, you know, I thought you might come with me.” Smooth, now that is thinking on your feet… Actually, she should, why not?

  “I can’t just leave.”

  “Why not, it could be fun?”

  “Jude…this is not just a holiday to you is it. This is real.”

  He sighs, she’s right, he’s not going to have fun. Actually he hopes to have some fun, but this is serious, this is his destiny.

  They kiss and hold each other tight.

  “If you need anything just ring, and ride carefully. Is that thing on tight enough?” His mum fusses as Jude puts the holdall over his shoulders and fastens it around his waist.

  “I’ve put enough clothes in for a couple of weeks, after that you will need to do some washing.”

  The weight pulls on his ribs and he winces. As he starts up the bike, a tear rolls down his mum’s cheek and she wipes it away. His father gives him an envelope.

  “Just a bit of something to see you alright.”

  “Cheers Dad.”

  Jude puts the envelope into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and zips it up. Then he puts on his helmet, waves goodbye and rides off.

  Chapter 11

  “OK Spiderman, if you’re so brave, why do you hide your face?”

  Matthew is sitting at a monitor watching the CCTV recording of the night his business was raided. He studies closely the actions and mannerisms of the intruders. Coming so soon after the shooting of Caleb Barnabas, Matthew knows they are sending a message, not just to him but to the Government. Picking on collectors is just an easy way to put your point across. The police responded quickly enough but they aren’t going to pursue it any further. No, if these people were really angry and wanting to be taken seriously they would have to do something big. This didn’t even make the local news.

  The death threats, written on the walls, disturbing at first sight, are nothing new in this business. This is the fourth time Matthew’s offices have been vandalised, though it is the first time since he upgraded the security system and he is not happy. The damage, though superficial, did destroy some computers. They also set fire to a stack of paperwork, but the sprinkler system soon put it out. Anyway, everything is backed up or duplicated if
it’s on paper. It was the damage to the toll barriers that cost him the most. Until he turned up cars were going through for free. That’s a few thousand he won’t get back. Well if they think they can frighten him, they’re way off. Being hated is a way of life, you get used to it, the money makes it all worthwhile. The average person around Matthew’s age earns twenty to thirty thousand euros per year. He can clear that in a week.

  He is surprised they got in so easily, so this time he’s had more expensive blast-proof doors and windows installed.

  Within hours he’d got in enough staff to temporarily fix the barriers, but the loss of Dave means he’s a man short.

  His CCTV cameras all record onto a hard drive which is hidden in the basement. There are seven cameras in total, some clearly visible, hence Spiderman staring straight into the lens and defiantly giving a one fingered salute. He pauses the recording, someone’s mask has slipped and the idiots have put the light on. He zooms in on the face. He looks familiar, but just can’t place him.

  “Are you busy?” A secretary comes to his office door.

  “Depends.”

  “The desk has arrived, they’re just unloading it now.”

  Two carpenters bring it in and set the desk down in its place and thank one of the security guards for helping.

  When he first saw the damage he thought nothing could be done, the top had been hacked and it had numerous gouges and scratches. Now, it looks like new. He examines it, looking closely where the damage had been and softly gliding his hand over the wood. Amazing! He can’t tell it was ever touched. As he looks around it he becomes aware that the carpenters might be able to see his gun so he fastens his jacket.

  “When you stop admiring that, you need to think about a replacement for Dave Milo,” says his secretary.

  “Someone quit?” asks one of the carpenters. Matthew just shakes his head, but the secretary is only too happy to say what happened. Matthew is uncomfortable. Strange, but he doesn’t want these men to know what really goes on.