Afterwards, Sir Anthony enlightened Will on Clive Baldwin-Jones’ rise to the position of PM. Specifically, how he achieved this with little resistance or pressure from within his own party.
Will listened on, as Sir Anthony described how Baldwin-Jones used his influence and position to make significant business deals in the energy market. Most those dealings were under-the-table but Baldwin-Jones was able to legalise them. By the time he’d reached his forties, Baldwin-Jones had amassed millions, enough to finance his political ambitions.
“So, the PM makes illegal energy deals and uses his considerable wealth and resources to place himself in a position of political power,” summarized Will. “Basically, he’s a corrupt bastard and he bought Ten Downing Street!” he added. “Great!”
“But not far-fetched William,” said Sir Anthony tiredly.
Will looked at Sir Anthony, “Okay, so he’s powerful enough to send government assassins to my apartment, without reproach,” said Will thoughtfully. “But there’s also enough dirt to connect him to the Promethean organisation,” added Will. “Do you think he’s their leader?”
Sir Anthony looked at Will indifferently then replied with a mere shrug. For a brief moment, neither person spoke. Sir Anthony seemed to be studying Will, like a teacher watching their students at work. Then he spoke, “After this enlightening discussion, surely you must’ve realised why we asked you here?” asked Sir Anthony.
“WE!” replied Will inquisitively. “I was hoping ‘we’ asked me here to explain why I was in danger and who was behind it. No?”
“Something like that,” confirmed Sir Anthony ambiguously. “Am I right my dear?”
“I’m not your dear,” replied Will, as he regarded Sir Anthony oddly.
“Not you,” said Sir Anthony, as he looked and gestured behind Will.
Will had been so absorbed in his conversation with Sir Anthony that he hadn’t registered the presence of another person in the room. A woman was sitting patiently in the corner of the room with a subdued demeanour.
The chair creaked under the weight of her arms as she stood up. Will watched as she stood up and walked towards him. The hairs on the back of his neck flared up and his face shivered with goose pimples, as he tried to make her out.
As she got closer to Will, her face and chest remained concealed by the shadows. When her full-length boots and coat came into view, Will assumed that it was someone he knew, “Maya?” he said mystified.
“I’m not Maya!” said the woman, as she approached him slowly.
When she spoke, her voice sent a shudder through Will. He recoiled nervously at the familiar resonance of her voice. He hadn’t heard that voice in a long time. She stopped a metre away from him and his eyes were already watering.
“M-mum!” said Will, as he sobbed uncontrollably.
Sir Anthony hung his head in embarrassment, as the magnitude and difficulty of the moment dawned on him. Subtly and very quietly, he withdrew from the room, in order to give the occupants some privacy.
Overwhelmed by remorse, Alannah Cox came to within an arm’s length of Will unsure whether to embrace him or not. Instead, she stood by his side silently and allowed him time to regain his composure.
The metronomic ticking of the clock echoed hauntingly across the room and seconds merged into minutes very slowly. Will looked at Alannah in disbelief, wondering how she could still be alive.
“You died!” said Will disbelievingly. He extended an arm out to touch her but quickly pulled it back, “I saw the explosion,” he added incredulously.
“I know!” replied Alannah Cox calmly.
“You died!” repeated Will bitterly.
“I know,” Alannah repeated.
“Why?” said Will angrily, “WHY?” he screamed.
Will buried his head in his hands and allowed his emotions run. He sobbed again but this time, more softly. Alannah Cox’s maternal instincts took over, as she grabbed her son and embraced him tightly.
✽✽✽
After the heat of their emotions dwindled, Alannah sat down next to Will. She explained what happened after their home in Tahlequah burned down. “Your father thought it’d be better that way,” she told Will. “He thought if we disappeared, you’d be safer and we could conduct our affairs more easily.”
Will grimaced in disgust when his mother said ‘our affairs’ and openly chastised both her and his father. Alannah Cox felt ashamed when he ended his point by slamming the anarchistic practices of the Prometheans and his suspicions about their involvement.
After Will finished condemning both his parents’, he chastised them again, “I spent the most of my life thinking you were dead. Maybe you and father should have stayed that way,” Will said resentfully.
When he saw the humiliation and horror on his mother’s face, Will realised that he’d overstepped and immediately regretted his words. After Will’s apologetic silence, Alannah took a deep breath and continued-on from where Sir Anthony left off.
She gave Will a somewhat more detailed account of the interrelationships within the Promethean organisation. Alannah described how Clive Baldwin-Jones had nurtured his political dreams, around the time he first met Cameron. He wanted the cause to expand globally, which Cameron relished at first.
Alannah hadn’t totally trusted Clive Baldwin-Jones. When he thought nobody was looking, he’d often sneer at Cameron and the group, looking down his nose at everyone contemptuously. Eventually, one thing lead to another, discord and mistrust gave way to antipathy and eventually, a parting-of-the-ways.
“Well he’s got a lot of clout now,” said Will. “You know, he tried to have me killed,” added Will matter-of-factly.
“Yes, I do!” confirmed Alannah straightforwardly.
“How do you know?” demanded Will.
“I have my sources,” replied Alannah vaguely.
“And you did nothing?”
“Not true!” replied Alannah defensively. “I, ‘we’ saved your life,” she admitted.
“On the roof,” said Will, as he looked at his mother with astonishment. “That was you?”
“Son, I’m far too old for that sort of thing,” said Alannah cryptically. “Running across rooftops and shooting guns is a young person’s game.” She looked into Will’s eyes and wondered if he was ready for the complete truth, “That was an acquaintance of mine, they owed me a favour,” she lied.
There was one subject neither Alannah or Will had broached yet. Alannah looked into her son’s eyes and already knew what he was thinking. She closed her eyes, as if to recall the information then began to explain how Cameron and her grew apart.
Alannah gave Will an honest, detailed account of how the events of Fyodorgrad tore the organisation apart. She also confirmed the Prometheans involvement in China and Mexico. Will hung onto her every word, as she described how the deaths of the minsters in Russia, her close friends, had affected everyone.
“Your father and I grew apart,” said Alannah. “We had different visions of what the organisation stood for.”
“But he’s still out there,” said Will. Alannah Cox nodded her head. “…and he’s planning something big, I can feel it,” he added, as he looked at his mother with more sympathy. “And you, you’ve been alone all this time?”
Alannah nodded silently and Will instantly hugged his mother even more tightly than before. They both allowed the tears to stream happily down their faces, now they were finally reunited.
After some time, Will and his mother became aware of an unnerving silence in the room. Instinctively, they both got up and walked over to the main door. Will prised it open slightly and peered through the small gap across the lobby.
“I can’t see anything or anyone,” said Will.
“What about bodyguards?” Alannah asked. “Is there no-one outside the door?” Will shook his head apprehensively.
“Nope, no-one,” replied Will. He looked at his mum and saw the concern on her face, “What’s going on?” he asked, becoming mo
re anxious.
“Stay calm Will,” Alannah said reassuringly. “Think clearly, did you tell anyone you were coming here?”
No!” said Will immediately.
“Not even Adam or Maya?”
“How do you know M…?” Alannah gave Will that ‘mother knows’ look, which stopped him mid-sentence. “No one!” confirmed Will.
“Did you check to see if you were followed?” demanded Alannah.
“I took several detours coming here,” replied Will. “Why?”
“Maybe I slipped up,” said Alannah admittedly. “In any case, it’s not safe, they’re here,” she added ominously.
“Who’s here?” asked Will.
A bead of sweat ran down Alannah Cox’s forehead. She was thinking that she’d only gotten her son back and wasn’t ready to lose him again. Desperately, she tapped several digits into her phone and made a call. Will and his mother looked at each other, as if they were both thinking the same thing at the same time.
“How do you want to play this?” asked Will.
“Do you have a car?” replied Alannah resolutely.
Slowly they moved out of the conference room and into the lobby. Instinctively, they clung to the sides, occasionally peeking around pillars and crevices, which they used for cover. Will looked over to a storage room door and saw the bloody red trail leading inside. He tugged his mother’s arm and pointed in that direction.
They approached the storage room precariously and slowly pushed the door open together. On the floor, they saw the four dead bodies lying strewn in different shapes. Among them was Sir Anthony Wilson.
Horrified, Alannah covered her mouth and Will resisted the urge to vomit. Although he nearly wretched at the blood that still oozed from fresh gunshot wounds. Will looked at Sir Anthony’s body and noted the precision of the wounds. There was one to the forehead and another to the chest. Will stepped over limp arms and legs carefully and examined the rest of the bodies more closely.
“Will, don’t!” whispered Alannah, cautiously.
Will examined the scene, using all the forensic expertise he’d remembered seeing on television. He took great care not to touch anything, “Yep, they were executed alright!” he declared, as he looked at his mother.
“How can you tell?” asked Alannah asked, looking around suspiciously.
“The entry points of the wounds are precise,” responded Will. “Judging by the fact that we never heard anything, I’d say he, she or they are using silencers.”
Alannah was impressed with Will’s knowledge but didn’t have time to celebrate it. They both looked up at the ceiling suddenly, when they heard the creaking of movement and understood what that meant.
She looked at Will and gestured her intention to head towards the adjacent fire exit and for Will to head towards the ground floor. Without hesitation, Will bent down and grabbed two guns from the dead bodyguards.
As if it was second nature, he placed one of the guns under his armpit muzzle-down and flipped the safety on the other. He then checked the contents of the magazine, cocked it and handed it to his mother. In the next minute, he’d did the same to the other gun before they moved.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” said a shocked Alannah.
“Call of Duty!” joked Will dryly.
“I can’t use this,” said Alannah nervously.
“You’re going to have to,” said Will authoritatively. “You’re not going out there unarmed. Okay?”
Alannah relented, “Alright!” she said reluctantly. “What do I do?”
Will took the gun from her and flipped a catch, “The safety’s already off, just point and shoot,” he said. “If it’s not me, don’t hesitate!” warned Will. “Ready?”
“Ready,” said Alannah, whose heart rate started to beat faster.
Will wiped his sweaty palms against his thigh, aimed his gun upwards and directed two gunshots towards the high ceiling. They waited for a minute then moved hastily in opposite directions.
✽✽✽
Mr Kent recognised the shots for what they were, covering fire. Determined to maintain his advantage, he doubled-back towards the fire exits on the first floor. By now, Alannah Cox was already outside and had scampered behind a hedgerow, some metres opposite the entrance of the hotel and waited.
The adrenaline heightened her sense of fear and made her hands tremble softly as she waited for Will. From her vantage point, she could see the fire exits, which ran down the side of the hotel and watched them vigilantly.
For a brief second, she looked around and admired the peacefulness of the Cairngorms. She wondered what it would be like to be with her son again, until a man descended the fire exit and interrupted her thoughts.
‘There was no way for Will to see him,’ she thought.
Instantly, she heard the sounds of a window opening and saw Will about to climb out. Mr Kent immediately moved towards Will’s position on the opposite side of the hotel. In one smooth action, he drew his firearm from inside his jacket and had it cocked, aimed and ready to fire.
Alannah Cox realised that she only had one option. Will emerged from the hotel window, then suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. Time seemed to stop for Alannah Cox, she saw her son staring down the barrel of a gun.
Her maternal instincts immediately took over. Remembering what Will had told her, she jumped from behind the hedges and aimed her gun at Mr Kent. The glaring of the sun reflected off her watch and Kent saw it. In a fraction of the next second, several things happened.
Three shots echoed violently through the air with such malevolence, that the birds dispersed from the trees en-masse. Will flinched and grabbed his stomach as a reflex but Mr Kent’s first shot had missed him. Mr Kent recoiled from his shoulder wound and calmly spun towards the hedgerow with his arm raised and fired his gun.
Even wounded and off-balance, Mr Kent was extremely dangerous. Alannah Cox fell to the ground silently. Will walked over to Kent calmly and shot him above the knee. As Kent fell to the ground, his gun dropped out of his hand. He grimaced in agonising pain but resisted the urge to cry out, as he held his bloody knee.
Will darted over to where his mother was lying, “Mum, mum?” he said, barely able to hold it together. “Come on, get up!”
“Hey son!” said Alannah weakly.
“I just got you back,” said Will, as grief started to overwhelm him. “You can’t leave me now, you can’t,” he whimpered. “I just got you back!”
“It’s alright,” she replied, fading quickly. “It’s not so bad, I’m always g-going, to… to be... here,” Her finger pointed feebly towards his heart before her arm dropped suddenly. Alannah Cox was dead.
“Mum?” whispered Will, “Mum?” Alannah Cox’s body went completely limp in Will’s arms. As he cradled her, he pressed his head against hers and stifled his sobs.
Despite his injuries, Kent attempted to drag himself away but it was in vain. Although he had a high threshold for pain, the bullets in his shoulder and knee slowed him down. Painfully, he turned over onto his back and smiled when he saw the gun in Will’s hand.
“Why? Why her?” asked Will indignantly. He badly wanted to kill the assassin but he knew it wasn’t his way. “Why?” repeated Will through gritted teeth.
“It wasn’t personal!” said Kent calmly.
“Baldwin-Jones sent you?” asked Will. “Didn’t he?”
“You already know the answer to that William,” said Mr Kent flatly.
“You know me?” said Will, remaining cautious. “Your tailor looks strangely familiar. Who are you?”
Realising that he had nothing to lose, “John Bridge!” he replied. “But everyone calls me Kent!”
“Some months back Mr Kent, another spook dressed like you tried to kill me,” said Will. “…friend of yours?”
“He was,” said a weakened Mr Kent.
“Was?” repeated Will, as he looked at Kent oddly.
Kent took a breath, “He went off-script back at your apartmen
t,” he said, weakened from the loss of blood. “…wasn’t supposed to kill you.”
“You killed him!” said Will intuitively. “If you’re so holier-than-thou, why work for someone like Baldwin-Jones?”
“Because he’s my boss and it’s my job,” declared Kent.
Will tried to consider Kent and everything he represented. He wondered how someone could save a life in one instance and take another so readily. In the end, he couldn’t reconcile the morality of a man like Mr Kent. Will stared at the man responsible for his mother’s death and aimed his gun at Mr Kent’s chest.
Will’s arm started to shake uncontrollably as he teetered on the brink of no return. Mr Kent laid there silently, willing him on and hoping for death. Unexpectedly, a deafening crack echoed across the air. Will stood frozen, staring glassy-eyed at Mr Kent, who had a similar look of surprise before he slumped backwards.
Will looked at the gun in his hands curiously, knowing that he hadn’t fired the killing shot. Relieved, he looked inquisitively from his gun to Mr Kent’s body and again, then sighed. Slowly, he looked up at the Cairngorms Mountains and admired its beauty, amid the death around him.
Although, the police sirens could be heard wailing in the far distance, Will’s first concern was his mother. He knelt down, lifted his mother’s body in his arms carefully and cradled her. Grief stricken, Will stayed with his mother for a while until a pair of boots walked into his eye line.
“We need to go,” said the softly spoken voice that had approached him silently.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Frenemy of My Enemy
As Will looked up, his eyes were still swelling with tears. Standing before him was the last person he’d expected to see, Maya Walker. She was dressed in a khaki, military-style clothing and looked every inch the soldier.
Maya walked past Will, with her imposing snipers rifle aimed directly at Mr Kent’s motionless body. She casually approached him and nudged him twice with her boot, “He won’t be doing the PM’s laundry anymore,” she said dryly.
Promethean Shadows Page 10