Dead Man Walking

by David Carter

  “And you’re sure you couldn’t identify the person on the film?” Chambers asked.

  “Yes, I’m certain. So please, if there are to be any penalties handed out for Detective Hampton’s actions, you are to start with me.”

  Tims clicked his neck left and right. “I’m going to tell you both a story that I rarely tell anyone.” He paused. “Years ago, when I was doing my basic army training, my wife was taken as a hostage by some lunatic bomber while sipping a cup of herbal tea in a Brighton shopping mall. I swear to God I’ve never been so bloody scared in my life, seeing her strapped to a chair with armed sticks of dynamite ready to blow her to kingdom come. To cut a long story short, the negotiator failed to do his job. The terrorist wanted a million dollars and a private jet out of the country. I begged him to give the bomber what he wanted. But he refused to give in to his demands. He tried long and hard to get him to give himself up. Then he pushed him one step too far; and he activated the bomb. I watched on as my wife screamed for her life. And then a miracle happened: the bomb never went off. Something went wrong with his design and the bomber was shot by a sniper. I’ll never forget the look of confusion on his face right before the bullet split his skull straight down the middle. Needless to say, from that moment on I devoted myself to protecting this country from those that would harm others. I quit the army and went into security. Which is why I need to know what is going on.”

  The commissioner came clean. “Both I and Detective Hampton have been threatened by a terrorist known as the Jackal. And just when we thought we may have had a lead, what little we had slithered through our fingers.”

  “Why didn’t you come forward sooner?” Tims asked.

  “I was being blackmailed, sir. I’m effectively broke.”

  “That’s beside the point. You could have come to me.”

  “Or to me,” Chambers assured him. “We three go back a long way, and you felt you couldn’t tell us?”

  “I’m sorry, I felt I could deal with this by myself.”

  “You were wrong,” Chambers said.

  “I know that now.” Commissioner Marshall hung his head.

  “But all is not lost,” Tims continued. “I know your character as well as anyone. I know your heart is in the right place. It’s your stubborn attitude that got in the way, as it always has.”

  The commissioner nodded slowly.

  Richard Tims stood from his chair. “Look, I won’t hold you up any longer, as I have another appointment. I expect a full report sent to my inbox about this Jackal character by noon tomorrow, and we will discuss how to proceed further with the investigation.”

  Chambers rose as well. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Tims shook Hampton’s hand, and bluntly said, “Perhaps it’s best if you take the commissioner’s original advice: enjoy your pension and retire while your reputation still holds you in high regard. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “But, sir–”

  “Unless you want me to open a formal enquiry as to what you were doing in that surveillance room?”

  “Suddenly retirement sounds like a good idea,” Hampton conceded.

  “I thought it might. “Look, to show you there’s no hard feelings, I would like for you and your lady-friend to join us Government House for an upcoming charity event.”

  “How charming. What’s the occasion?”

  “A fundraiser for child cancer. Anyone who’s anyone will be there.”

  “I can think of no finer cause,” Hampton replied. “I’ll be sure to make it.”

  “Very good.” Tims shook Hampton’s hand one last time, and as he did so, Hampton caught a glimpse of what he was sure was a high-end wristwatch peeking out from the end of his shirt sleeve.

  Tims and Chambers filed out of the room.

  After Hampton was sure they had gone, Hampton said, “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” the commissioner replied.

  “The watch Tims was wearing.”

  “No, why?”

  “I only caught a glimpse of it, but it looked rather expensive.”

  “That doesn’t make him a criminal, Steve.”

  “I know, but add to the mix that he’s the national security advisor and the story about his wife; he has access to the computer systems, and motive, not to mention he pushed me to back off from the case and retire. Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

  “Do you think because the negotiator refused to give in to the terrorist he may still be harbouring some feelings of resentment towards his own department?”

  “It’s a possibility isn’t it?”

  Commissioner Marshall thought about Hampton’s logic, and said, “Look, I’ve served with Tims for a long time now. He’s a dedicated servant to this country. And while it’s highly unlikely he’s the Jackal, I agree, we can’t afford to rule him out.”

  Chapter 63

  “Is it really you?” Jane gasped as she opened the door to her apartment to find Blaze standing there. She threw her arms around him. “They got you out!”

  Blaze was surprised by the warm welcome he received. “I’m glad to see you’re okay,” he replied, noting the swelling on her face had subsided.

  She kissed him on the cheek, then peered into his eyes as she said, “All thanks to you.”

  Blaze noticed the sparkle in her gaze. “You’re strong; you’d have pulled through,” he said.

  She snapped out of her momentary trance. “Where are my manners?” she scolded herself. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

  “Coffee, if you have it,” Blaze replied.

  “Coffee, eh?” She raised a cheeky eyebrow. “Ugh!” she teased. “Tastes like dishwater!”

  “Oh, now you’re hurting my feelings.” Blaze grinned. He couldn’t help noticing how attractive Jane was in her light, floral dress. Her blonde hair glistened against the sunlight beaming through the french doors that opened up onto her balcony. She looked so rejuvenated. He couldn’t help staring at her slender, bare legs as she scuttled across the tiled floor to the kitchen. He could tell she was happy. Freedom tends to have that effect on people, he thought. “How’s Benji?” he asked.

  “How about you go ask him while I pop the kettle on?” She smiled. “He’s in his bedroom playing video games.”

  Blaze wandered down the hallway, following the loud music to whatever game Benji was playing, “How’s it going, stranger?” Blaze asked as he poked his head through the doorway.

  “I’m not a stranger,” Benji replied. “You know who I am.”

  “That’s not what I meant–” Blaze paused and shook his head; he’d forgotten about Benji’s literal way of thinking. “Never mind. How are you?”

  “I’m good.” His eyes didn’t deflect from the television screen.

  “What are you playing?”

  “Monster Jam.”

  “Oh, nice. Nothing better than destroying piles of cars with giant monster trucks. Who’s your favourite?”

  “Grave Digger.”

  “Good choice. Mind if I play, too?”

  “Okay.” Benji handed him a controller.

  Jane approached Benji’s room and quietly watched the two of them playing together. She’d never seen such a contented smile on Benji’s face. Her heart melted. After a minute or two of foolishly thinking how lovely it would be to have a protective man like Blaze in their lives to watch over them, she loudly cleared her throat. “Coffee’s ready.”

  “Is it okay if I go talk to your mother, now?” Blaze asked Benji.

  “It’s fine,” he answered. He turned back to his game without a fuss.

  “You’re a natural,” Jane said as they returned to the living room. “Your less is more approach seems to work wonders with him.”

  “Oh, it was only a stupid game.”

  “No, it wasn’t. He’s quite taken with you.”

  “Call it beginner’s luck. Never really been around kids much before.”

  She gave him a sweet smile; it reached all t
he way down to his usually-cold heart. They sat down together on a three-seater couch, slightly turned inwards, facing each other. “Wow, this is some seriously good coffee,” Blaze said as he let the smooth, rich taste tickle his senses.

  She covered her mouth as she giggled. “Well, once upon a time, a younger version of me used to be a barista,” Jane replied.

  “Oh, that explains it then.” Blaze grinned.

  There was an awkward silence, until Jane finally asked, “So, Blaze, what brings you here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted to see you, I just didn’t expect to see you again after hearing about your predicament.”

  Blaze was surprised by her forwardness. “Honestly, I don’t have any one particular reason. I guess I just needed to know you were okay.”

  “Well, I’m more than happy thanks to your generosity. From what your detective friend told me, I assume you took care of Beppo?”

  Blaze wasn’t sure how to respond. “Would it be a good thing if I said, yes?”

  “Of course it would,” she sipped at her tea cup.

  “Well in that case, yes. I can assure you that you’ll never be hearing from him again.”

  She slowly nodded.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. It just doesn’t seem real, that’s all...”

  “It will in time.” Blaze took another sip from his coffee mug.

  There was another awkward silence. “So, what now for you?” Jane asked.

  Blaze exhaled heavily through his nose. “Gotta take care of some unfinished business before I leave for home.”

  “And I assume home means New Zealand?”

  “Yeah...I guess it does,” he mumbled.

  “You sound as if you don’t want to go.”

  “You’re right, I don’t.”

  “So why don’t you stay here in New York?”

  “Even if I could, I’ve got no place to go.”

  Jane nervously put her hand on Blaze’s thigh. “You could always stay here with me?” She raised a coy eyebrow.

  Blaze suddenly realised Jane was making a move on him. He quickly removed her hand.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Jane sharply looked away, flustered at Blaze’s rejection.

  Blaze didn’t mean to upset her. “No, wait; it’s me who’s sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” He reached out and gently held her cheek, slowly turning her face back towards his. “It’s just,” he paused, carefully choosing his words, “there are things about me that you’ve no idea about. Plainly said, I’m not a good person. I’ve said and done some things that I’m not proud of. Hell, I just murdered your husband in cold blood, and I felt nothing when he took his last breath.”

  Jane welled up with tears. “That’s where you are wrong,” she sniffled. “All I see is a protective, caring man who saved my life. You’ve already bonded better with Benji than most people I’ve ever known. Oh, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You might start forgiving yourself for your past.”

  “If you knew the extent of the things I’ve done, you’d never have let me in the front door,” he murmured.

  She stared directly into his eyes. “So you’ve killed people, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “More than one?”

  “Yes.”

  “More than ten?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were they bad people?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’ve never murdered an innocent stranger?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever hurt a woman?”

  “Not physically...”

  “Emotionally?”

  “Yes. My mother and I didn’t see eye to eye for quite some time. I may have made her suffer a little.”

  “Because you were abused as a child and she didn’t listen?”

  “How did you–” He stopped himself. He figured Ryan had blabbed to Doyle. “Never mind. She lied about who my father was. She’d neglected to mention I was the result of some asshole who raped her.”

  “Lied, or hid the truth?”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for the reasons she did it. As a mother with an abusive husband I can understand her point of view,”

  Blaze relented with a sigh. “There was a time where I’d disrespectfully disagree with you; but I did eventually forgive her.”

  “So you aren’t necessarily the bad person you say you are, then.”

  “It’s well and truly up for debate.”

  “Did you kill the man who hurt her?”

  “Yes. I burned him alive.”

  “Out of revenge for your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “So essentially you’re saying you’d kill to protect your family.”

  “Always.”

  “Then can’t you see that that’s a good quality? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t condone murder, but surely you can see that you’re a protector. Maybe you just need to scale things back a little. Perhaps leading a normal life instead of running around in dangerous circles might be the change you need? I know Benji and I would sure like your company...”

  “But you barely know me.”

  “What you did for me and Benji, while being complete strangers, speaks volumes about your character. And you’re not exactly horrible to look at.” She grinned. “I’ve always had a thing for bad boys...”

  Blaze grinned back, then hung his head. “You make it sound so simple. But I can’t do any of that until I make things right back home. I’ve got people counting on me to do the right thing and turn myself in.”

  “And you’re going to do it?”

  “Yes. If I’m ever going to move forward and stop running. I have to bite the bullet and do some prison time.”

  “See? You’re growing as a person right before my eyes. And that makes you even more attractive.” She leaned in and kissed him. “I’ll wait for you,” she whispered.

  He pulled away, long enough to reply, “Don’t wait. I’ll be inside for a long time.” He paused, then grinned as he said, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t make the most of today...”

  She pulled him up off the couch and led him by the hand to the bedroom.

  Chapter 64

  Spider took great pleasure in parking Skinny-Jay’s Hummer on the kerb directly outside the front entrance to his night club. He could tell the bouncers on the door weren’t overly pleased to see him; his smug grin gnawed at their egos. Doyle parked directly behind Spider. The SAS, Ryan, and Doyle formed a small group and headed straight towards the less-than-friendly welcome party.

  One of the guards called Skinny-Jay to come outside. “Yo’ scratch my motherfuckin’ paint work?” Skinny-Jay asked Spider after he tossed him the keys.

  “Nah, it’s cool. Even got it cleaned and polished before we arrived.”

  Skinny-Jay walked a circle around his pride and joy. “Glad to see you finally brought it back. Almost had to send a motherfuckin’ search party out for you.” He made eye contact with Blaze. “You and I need to talk,” he said angrily, and pulled his golden Desert Eagle out from his jacket.

  “Whoa! Everyone take it easy,” Ryan interjected. “What’s with all the animosity? We come here in peace—and to return your car.”

  “You lying fools said his mamma was dying!” Skinny-Jay snapped. “I heard rumours on the streets that it was Blaze who led the assault on my motherfuckin’ lab and burned my brother Joey Jackson alive with motherfuckin’ cooking oil! Do you deny it, punk?” He held the barrel of the gun directly in his face.

  Blaze sniggered. “Oh, you know I fucking did it.” Then before Skinny-Jay or his guards could react, Blaze and the members of the SAS launched an assault of their own. Blaze swiped the gun from his face and levelled Skinny-Jay with a crunching blow to his temple. Within seconds, Blaze and the SAS had them subdued on the ground with their own weapons pointed in their faces.

  “You made a mistake selling me off to Scarface.” Blaze kicked Skinny-Jay in the ribs. He let out a sh
arp groan as Blaze’s boot ploughed into his side.

  “What do you want, man?” Skinny-Jay asked.

  “I want to make you an offer.”

  “You’ve got one minute before the rest of my crew come outside and slay your motherfuckin’ asses. So you’d better make it quick.”

  Blaze began his proposal. “You and Scarface have a long-standing beef, do you not?”

  “You bet you’re motherfuckin’ ass we do.”

  “And it’s true, after you sold me to the brotherhood, I had to prove my loyalty to them by joining the raid on your meth lab in which you lost a shit-pile of money and resources, correct?”

  “You fuckin’ know it.”

  “How would you like to put the brotherhood out of business for good?”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Ah, but it is. You see, when I went inside The Tombs and burned Joey Jackson to a fucking crisp, I procured the information I needed from the leader of the brotherhood, right before I murdered him. And now I’m aware of how the brotherhood have gotten so strong, and that if we don’t stop them now, we never will. So, with the information I have, and the men at your disposal, we could bring the brotherhood down to their knees together.”

  “What about them?” Skinny-Jay motioned towards Doyle and Ryan. “What do they have to say about this? They look like motherfuckin’ po-lice to me.”

  “We’re completely on board,” Doyle replied. “In fact, coming to you for help was my idea. I’ve been working on bringing down the brotherhood for quite some time now.”

  “And what about after—you know—if we succeed. You’ll come after me and my crew, right?”

  “Oh, I think for the moment you’ll be safe. You see, this isn’t an FBI sanctioned mission. It started out as one, but now I’m working outside the confines of the law. As far as the FBI are concerned, you’re a small fish for the time being.”

  Skinny-Jay mulled over Doyle’s words. “All right, I’m listening,” Skinny-Jay said to Blaze