Black Violet

by Alex Hyland

  We slipped inside a long, empty room. A Moroccan lantern hanging from the ceiling cast a web of shadows across a deep red carpet. No furniture, no desks, nothing. We closed the door and waited for the footsteps outside to pass. As Ella listened at the door, I glanced nervously around the murkily lit room – its black walls polished to a high sheen. A shuffling sound then came from somewhere inside. Ella spun round and took aim. Within the maze of shadows, something moved – a ripple in the darkness at the far end of the room. My gun trembled as a shape stepped forward. I felt like I was dreaming. It was a deer. A fawn – its huge black eyes staring at us. As it took an anxious step away from us, Ella headed further into the room, and stared into the shadows at the far end. She beckoned me over, then gestured to another door in the far wall. It would be a safer route than the passageway.

  We darted across the room, the startled fawn cowering against the black walls. Ella reached the door and listened. Silence on the other side. She readied her pistol, then slowly opened the door. A spiral staircase appeared on the other side. Ornate silver steps and handrails. Roses carved into the winding metal balustrade.

  We cautiously stepped out and took a look up. The staircase twisted around the walls of the large atrium, maybe eighty feet high. A huge black sphere, twenty feet in diameter, hung from the atrium roof – back-lit by the lights of the uppermost deck. Distant voices high above us. I listened carefully. The murmur of conversations. Radio static. Four or five decks up.

  We crept up the staircase, my blood pounding in my ears as I scanned the deck entrances above us. As we climbed, the marble passageways that had surrounded us below, gave way to black wood – ebony walls and patterned mosaic floors. Golden statues of animals lining the passageways – gleaming tigers and deer.

  Ella ground to a halt – footsteps above us heading for the atrium. We ducked low behind the balustrade and waited. A guy dressed in a neatly pressed white uniform appeared two decks above us. In his thirties, Asian-looking, Japanese maybe. He strolled down the staircase, a gun holstered at his side. I peered through the gaps in the balustrade as he wound round the atrium. Ella got herself ready – aiming her pistol at the apex of the spiral just beyond us. The guy then slowed to a stop. He glanced around the atrium for a moment – then reached down toward his gun. Fuck. I leaned back on the steps and aimed my pistol through the gaps in the balustrade. I held my breath as he raised his hand back into view – he was holding a phone. He studied it a moment. He then stepped off the spiral and headed down the deck just above us. As the guy’s footsteps disappeared down the corridor, I lowered my gun and breathed again. Ella carefully eyed the entrance to the upper levels of the atrium.

  We climbed further up the spiral, slowing as we approached the deck that the Asian guy had taken. We waited for his footsteps to completely disappear. I listened as he opened a door way down the corridor and entered one of the rooms. As the door closed behind him, I shot Ella a look – the sound of a woman’s voice from inside the room.

  There might have been any number of women on board, but the only one we knew for sure was Lizzie. We gazed down the softly lit corridor. The doors here had names etched into their surfaces. Kobi. Atheneus. Azra. These definitely weren’t crew quarters. Ella kept her eyes on the door at the far end marked Azra. An amber glow around its edges.

  We stepped off the staircase and edged down the corridor. Behind us, the murmur of voices drifted down through the atrium. We stopped beside the door. No sound from the other side. But it had definitely been a woman’s voice we’d heard – this door was a good enough bet to run the risk. Ella nodded at me. I got my gun ready. She carefully grabbed the steel door handle, then swung the door open.

  We darted inside a large, ornate study – twisting bronze ivy creeping across rows of book cases and ebony-paneled walls. I swung around the book cases as Ella weaved across the room. We checked the corners and annexes – but the room seemed empty. No movement anywhere – just sunlight sparkling on water. I gazed at the walls – in place of windows, the drapes opened onto huge LED screens displaying the view from a lakeside house at sunset. Beside one of the screens sat a black, circular table – four chairs surrounding it. I paused a second and stared at the table. A glass of green tea resting on it. I stepped over to it and touched the glass. It was hot. Faint lipstick traces on the rim. I nervously scanned the walls – this was definitely the right room – there had to be another door here somewhere.

  I glanced at Ella as she stepped toward one of the annexes. She lowered her gun, then just stood there, gazing beyond the corner. I ran over to her, and the annex came into view – a computer screen sitting on a desk at the far end. Not that Ella was staring at the computer – her eyes were fixed on the near side wall.

  The entire wall was covered in photographs. I couldn’t believe it. Pictures of Jon. Of me. Ella. The necklace. My apartment. Beneath them were pages of addresses and phone numbers. Bars that I visited. People that I knew. Jesus, they must have been watching us for months.

  Ella approached the computer screen – it was scrolling through long lists of words and phrases. Airman Ford. Marina Ford. A Dinar Form. Beside each phrase, the computer was listing possible definitions and meanings. As Ella studied the phrases, I glanced at my watch. We were running out of time – less than ten minutes left. We needed to find the Bragers.

  ‘We’ve got to move, Ella.’

  I headed back toward the main door, but she reached out an arm and stopped me. She kept her eyes on the computer screen – on the random phrases that kept appearing.

  Her eyes then widened.

  ‘Airman Ford,’ she said. ‘Anagrams of For Miranda. They’re trying to figure it out.’

  She stared down at the desk beneath the computer screen, then pulled open its drawer. Inside was a velvet-lined tray with nine gold necklaces laid out in it. Nine of the two hundred that had been made – each with the same diamond-studded sun pendant. She picked up a couple of the necklaces and held them to the light – carefully studying them, comparing the patterns of the sun rays in the pendants.

  ‘They’re identical,’ she said. ‘No inscription, but…’

  I shot her a look.

  I grabbed another couple of necklaces from the tray and gazed at them. Identical. The word spun around my head as a moment of clarity crystallized in me. A distant memory that now appeared as sharp as the diamonds in the necklaces.

  The greatest pickpocket I ever knew was my old friend, Patrick. He had the touch, the psychology, the charm, he could take anything from anybody. He made a small fortune over the years – cash, cars, watches. But his real passion was jewelry. He loved it. Loved it to the point that he rarely sold a single item that he lifted. In the weeks before he died, I stayed with him at his house in LA – the place was like Aladdin's cave. Diamond rings, brooches, bracelets, he’d kept them all. I remember asking him why, and he launched into this romantic speech about how diamonds were eternal. How each one was a frozen moment in time.

  And how each one was unique.

  That was the key. The sun pendants were identical – almost. The diamonds in all of them were roughly half a carat, but ‘roughly’ was the trick. The exact weight of each of the diamonds in micrograms wouldn’t be the same – the numbers wouldn’t match. It had to be that – it was the only characteristic of Fisher’s necklace that was unique and unchanging. The gold could be scratched and damaged over time, but the diamond would always remain the same.

  ‘It’s the passcode to the disk,’ I said. ‘The exact weight of the diamond in Fisher’s necklace.’

  Ella stared at me – the truth of it sinking into her.

  ‘We need to find the disk,’ she said.

  She went quiet – the sound of a door opening. From the annex I could see that the main study door was still closed. It had to be another door that we’d missed. We pressed ourselves up against the annex wall, listening as a single set of footsteps crossed the room toward us.

  The Asian guy cleared the c
orner of the annex, his eyed fixed on an iPad. He froze as Ella pointed her gun at his head.

  ‘Not a sound,’ she said.

  He eyed us nervously, then glanced at the photos on the wall. His expression turned cold. ‘You,’ he said. He reached inside his shirt. ‘They’re here! They’re – ’

  Ella struck him in the face with the butt of her gun – he collapsed to the floor. As he tried to yell again, I covered his mouth with my hand and pushed the barrel of my gun against his forehead. He went silent. Ella listened for any signs of alarm outside, then took the guy’s pistol from its holster.

  I kept my gun aimed squarely at him as I slowly removed my hand from his mouth.

  ‘Where are the Bragers?’ I said.

  He stayed quiet.

  ‘Where are they?’ I said.

  ‘Private deck,’ he replied. ‘You won’t reach them.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  He nodded. ‘You need a passkey.’

  ‘You got one?’ I said.

  As he shook his head, I caught sight of a chain hanging around his neck. I tore open his shirt. Hanging from the chain was a tiny silver disk with a black button at its center. I ripped it from his neck, and held it in front of him.

  ‘What’s this?’ I said.

  ‘It’s no use to you,’ he replied.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I said.

  I put my thumb on the button.

  ‘No!’ said Ella.

  I pressed it. Alarms rang everywhere – sirens spinning in the room, the LED screens turning red. Motherfucker. I pointed my gun at the guy’s head, but Ella stopped me. She aimed her pistol at his leg and pulled the trigger – the guy screamed as the bullet shattered his knee. We ran out of the annex and across the study. I opened the door – sirens spinning out in the corridor. The clamor of people hurtling down the spiral staircase to our right. Ella grabbed the remote detonator – there was no waiting any more. She flipped open the safety guard and squeezed the trigger.

  Two huge explosions shook the yacht – the floor shuddering beneath my feet. We darted left, cleared a corner, then hurtled down a red-lit corridor. Another guy dressed in a white uniform emerged from a room ahead of us. He reached for his pistol. No fucking hesitation now – I shot him to the deck. Ella then buckled forward as a bullet tore into her arm. She swung round and fired back down the corridor – the shooter behind us spun and fell against the wall. He raised his gun – I emptied my pistol into his chest.

  More people approaching, front and back. No choice – I grabbed Ella, dragged her into one of rooms and locked the door behind us.

  ‘Ella!’ I said.

  She gritted her teeth against the pain, her upper right arm pouring with blood. I glanced around the room. Cabinets stacked full of computers lined the walls – dizzying streams of numbers flickering across their screens. To our right, a second door – I could already hear people hurtling toward it. Fuck. I ran over to it and locked it.

  A couple of screens crashed to the floor behind me as Ella ripped a cable from them. She held one end of the cable in her teeth, then tightened the length around her arm to stop the bleeding. Bullets tore into the lock of the main door. I barged one of the cabinets in front of it, then pushed another over onto the floor. It hit the marble in a shower of glass and electrical sparks – I dragged Ella behind it. As she grabbed a clip from her pocket and reloaded, gunfire hammered into the second door – I took aim at it. It slammed open as the lock gave out. Ella and I fired at two figures standing in the crimson glow outside. One fell to the deck.

  The second figure ducked back, then shouted, ‘Geary!’

  I threw Ella a look. I couldn’t believe it – it sounded like Tully.

  ‘Tully?’ said Ella.

  She look stunned as he appeared in the doorway.

  He ran over to us. ‘Ella!’

  She threw her arms round him. He caught his breath, then looked her up and down. ‘You’re hurt,’ he said.

  The cabinet blocking the main door started to slide as the crew on the other side barged at it.

  ‘We’ve got to move!’ I said.

  Tully dragged her to her feet. ‘This way,’ he said.

  He headed for the second doorway. He grabbed a passkey and gun from the body lying on the floor, then ran down the passageway. I kept my gun aimed behind us as he led the way round a maze of tight corners, then down a deserted corridor. We reached another heavy wooden door at the end – the sound of crew members running along the passageway on the other side.

  Ella stared at Tully as we waited. ‘Thank God you’re OK,’ she said.

  ‘Good you came here,’ he replied. ‘There was never going to be any exchange. They were going to shoot you on sight. The moment they got the necklace, me too.’ He eyed her carefully. ‘Where’s Geary?’

  She eyed him a moment, then shook her head.

  He went quiet – his eyes turning cold.

  ‘Cooper’s team are on their way,’ she said.

  ‘How far out?’

  ‘I don’t know, fifty minutes, maybe. We’ve got a boat by the stern.’

  More voices ran past the other side of the door. Tully thought carefully to himself.

  ‘We’re going to need to go through the upper decks,’ he said. ‘Too many crew on the lower ones.’

  ‘Where are the Bragers?’ I asked.

  ‘Fuck them,’ he said. He then shot me a look. ‘Tell me you didn’t bring the necklace.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘You’re sure it’s safe?’ he said.

  ‘It’s on Dillon’s plane.’

  ‘We can’t let them get hold of it. It’s all they give a fuck about.’

  ‘Yeah, I think I know why.’

  He eyed me intently. Ella listened at the door – the clamor on the other side had faded.

  ‘It’s clear,’ she said.

  She carefully opened the door out into a black wooden corridor. Tully nodded toward a glass staircase rising just ahead of us. We checked the coast was clear, then darted up the stairs – toward a brilliant white glow at the very top. I kept my gun aimed ahead of us as we reached a small landing – a white glass floor lit from beneath. A single ebony door in front of us.

  Tully paused a moment and checked his gun. He shook his head. ‘Fucking thing’s jammed.’

  He placed it on the glass floor, then gestured for Ella’s pistol – she handed it to him. He checked the clip, then ushered her behind us. He nodded for me to get ready. As I took aim, he brushed the passkey against an access panel by the door – the lock clicked softly. He raised the pistol, then cautiously pushed the door open.

  On the other side, the glowing glass floor stretched down a narrow wood-paneled hallway. A plush reception room at the other end. Gray silk sofas and velvet drapes. Rose patterned cornices and glistening chandeliers. We crept down the hallway, glancing nervously around the reception room as we stepped inside. No windows here either. The drapes hanging from the walls opened onto oil paintings – landscapes with black skies. Above a cream stone fireplace hung a huge canvas – a painting of a solid black circle against a dark gray background, delicate filaments emanating from its edges. A permanent eclipse that filled the room. This was definitely Lizzie’s deck.

  I went still as I heard a man’s voice in the distance. I glanced at Tully. He gestured for me to stay silent, then nodded toward an open set of double doors at the far end of the reception. They led into a main hallway, maybe sixty feet long. Open doorways all the way down – a sleek white kitchen at the very end. The voice was coming from one of the doors along the hallway. We crept through the double doors, then edged silently forward, Tully leading the way across the white glass floor. We passed a bedroom – a sea of soft gray furnishings, a black ellipsoid hanging from the ceiling. In a glass cabinet opposite the bed sat three china dolls in delicately embroidered gold dresses.

  Tully slowed to a halt ahead of me. The man’s voice was coming from the doorway just before the kitchen. I listened carefully.

>   ‘I don’t care,’ came the voice. ‘Raiden says it’s just the two of them. I want them found now.’

  I stared at Ella. It sounded like the French guy from the hotel. Ella nodded at me.

  I crept up to the open door and peered inside a brightly lit study. French had his back to me as he studied a bank of video monitors on the desk in front of him. They were displaying live footage – soldiers in the port. Teams waiting in cars. Snipers on warehouse roofs. I gazed at the monitors, and felt the rush of it. That this might actually work. That we might get out of this alive.

  As French dialed another number on the phone, Tully and I stepped into the room, Ella behind us. French glanced back, then spun around and reached for his sidearm. I aimed my gun at him.

  ‘Don’t,’ I said.

  He went still.

  ‘Put down the phone,’ I said.

  He eyed me for a moment – his nose bruised and broken from our encounter at the hotel. He carefully placed the phone beside the monitors.

  ‘Where are the Bragers?’ I asked him.

  He said nothing.

  ‘You think I won’t shoot you?’ I said.

  ‘I think you won’t,’ he replied.

  As French smiled at me, Tully raised his gun and pointed it at the side of my head.

  ‘Give me the gun, Michael,’ said Tully.

  I gazed at him.

  ‘The gun,’ he repeated. ‘Now.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Ella.

  He held his gun at my temple, then grabbed the pistol from my hand.

  ‘Tully?’ said Ella.

  He eyed her uneasily. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  Ella’s expression went cold – the light disappearing from her eyes as she stared at him. French took out his pistol and held it on us. He touched a keypad by the monitors, and the distant sirens across the yacht went quiet.