Freedom Incorporated

by Peter Tylee

  Dan stumbled down the stairs and obediently lifted his arms when Cookie tried to peal the vomit soaked shirt from his body.

  “What happened?” Fear permeated Samantha’s question. “Where’s Jen?”

  Jen…Dan shut his eyes and collapsed onto the couch, which Samantha had covered with a towel to protect from vomit. “They got her.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?” Cookie asked while using the sponge from the sink to remove the worst of the acidic mess coagulating on Dan’s body. It made him queasy, but somebody had to do it and Cookie wasn’t one to shy from vulgar tasks.

  Dan did his best to shrug, regretting it when another wave of nausea splashed inside him. “I don’t know.”

  “We heard gunfire and came to look.” Cookie swallowed his desire to retch. “We stayed out of the way until we heard a car tearing arse out of here. Then we saw you rolling out from under that purple cloud.”

  “Riot gas,” Dan explained. “Designed to incapacitate a swarm of fanatics.”

  “Yeah well it messed you up real good.” Cookie swabbed at the remaining chunks clinging to his chest hair. “But what-”

  The phone rang.

  Dan prised his eyes open and sat up. His cordless videophone used a rotating encryption algorithm to skirt the privacy issues associated with boundless transmission mediums. It was shrill and drove a spike of pain through his muted hearing. Samantha handed him the receiver on the sixth ring.

  “Hello?” he answered, barely above a whisper.

  Silence. Whoever was on the other end had disabled the video feature. Only a steady crackle of static informed him that someone was listening.

  “Who is this?” Dan’s patience was wearing thin and blind rage was the only emotion ready to replace his civility.

  A crackling laugh buzzed through the speaker, just loud enough for Samantha and Cookie to hear. “Hello Daniel.”

  The voice was hauntingly familiar though Dan couldn’t quite place it. Someone from his past, someone he’d prefer to forget. Damn it.He wished his memory would cooperate.

  “Where’s Jen?”

  “Oh, is that what you call her?” The voice mocked him with a low wolf whistle. “Quite a honey you have there. Or hadI should say. What a pity she comes from such an ill-fated family.”

  Dan knew the man was toying with him and he was in no shape to play games, especially ones that required him to think. A splitting headache was throbbing in his frontal lobes. “Who is this?”

  “Tut, tut, Daniel. It hurts me to think I mean that little to you.” The voice laughed again. “But what should I expect, huh? You went back to your life, totally unaware of what you did to mine. But I think you’re going to remember me this time, Daniel.”

  “Cut the crap arsehole,” Dan snapped.

  “Why don’t you guess?” The lustre of joy evaporated from his voice.

  “Why don’t you just tell me?” he retorted, still unable to lock onto the fleeting memory that would bring a flood of understanding to the situation.

  “Picture it – the year is 2059 and Mike Cameron is rallying public support for the opposition. But, oh dear, somebody killed him instead.”

  Dan’s eyelids slid shut and he assembled the strength to rise to his feet. “Esteban Garcia Valdez.” I should’ve known.Memories crashed against his inner thoughts, bringing bad tidings.

  “There, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Esteban cackled. “All you needed was a bit of encouragement. But you know what, Daniel?”

  “What?” Something deep within Dan’s aura of self-defence screamed at him that he didn’t want to know.

  “I’ve had a greater impact on your pathetic little life than you think.” Esteban sneered into the receiver.

  A pulse of adrenaline added strength to Dan’s pacing. “Is Jen still alive?” He carried the conversation away from Samantha and Cookie.

  “Oh yes, she’s fine. Very fine if you don’t mind me saying so.” He paused for long enough to lick his lips and blow a kiss in Jen’s direction. “Do you want to know what we have in mind for her?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Ah, but I think you do.” Esteban relished this. He’d been waiting for this conversation, waiting for when it would have the maximum impact. It was a speech he’d practiced hundreds of times before falling asleep at night and whispered to his reflection in the mirror while shaving in the morning. He’d fastidiously woven it into the fabric of his existence. And now, finally, he could deliver the message. “Listen and you might learn something.” He reached forward and squeezed Jen’s firm breast, sliding his hand inside her shirt and bra to feel her flesh. She cringed, but the piano wire ensured she couldn’t twist away. He liked watching her cower and loved to smell her fear. “First I’m going to rape her.”

  Dan winced as if Esteban had plunged a dagger into his chest and twisted it. He could only imagine the fear captured in Jen’s eyes at that moment, looking at a man that had just admitted his intention to rape her. Perhaps the worst part for Dan was his feeling of overwhelming helplessness. He could do absolutely nothing, and he knew it.

  “I’m going to have heaps of fun,” Esteban said relentlessly, “tying her wrists and ankles to each corner of the bed with piano wire and forcing myself upon her.” A wicked gleam twinkled in his eyes. Something evil possessed him and Jen had to look away. “I’ll be nice about it,” he said, his voice drifting through the speaker pressed against Dan’s ear. “I’ll be gentle. It won’t hurt unless she struggles, but there’s nothing I can do if she cuts her hands and feet off with the wire.”

  Dan felt sick to the pit of his stomach. The residual taste of vomit on the back of his tongue nearly spawned a fresh bout of gagging. “You bastard.”

  “Ah, no, you missed a word. I’m a fuckingbastard, Daniel.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Esteban laughed, enjoying Dan’s torment. “You want to know what I’ll do then?” He paused, though didn’t really expect an answer. “I bet you do.” Another pause. “I’m going to get a tube of superglue and squeeze a thin film into her eyes. Do you know how much the fumes sting if you hold that shit too close? I can only imagine it’d burn like a hornet’s dick if you got it on your cornea.”

  Dan froze in shock, dropping to his knees.

  “Your wife screamed for ten whole minutes when we did that to her. Man, you should’ve heard. This time I think I’ll tape it so you can enjoy it too.”

  Disbelief sweated in beads across Dan’s slack jaw while a seed of murderous wrath boiled in the dark recesses of his mind.

  “So then we’ll leave her for, oh, say four hours? That should be just long enough for her to mourn the loss of sight. Your wife was whimpering the whole fucking time, begging for her life and for the life of her unborn child. But you can’t rush these things you know, there’s a certain sophistication required or it turns into a barbaric bloodbath.”

  Dan was mute.

  “After four hours struggling in the dark I think she’ll welcome Adrian’s touch. Mind you, he’s not as tender as I am. He might hurt her. I sometimes hear his wenches scream because he’s fond of biting their breasts. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, but he’s an animal in the sack.” Esteban’s monologue trampled the most fragile parts of Dan’s psyche. “After he’s finished drilling whatever parts of her anatomy he feels like, we’ll be fishing for the superglue again. But this time… well you probably know what we’ll glue next, don’t you?”

  A quiver of anger seeped from his lips and he forged a promise that he intended to keep: “You’re a dead man.”

  “Ah, I beg to differ.” Esteban enjoyed the freedom afforded by his specially modified mobile phone, one that hugged a channel Echelon couldn’t scan. He could say whatever he wanted without repercussion. “I’m very much alive. It’s a beautiful day today, don’t you agree?” He took the time to lick Jen’s right earlobe and held the receiver up to her mouth. “Be a dear and say hello, will you?”

  “Dan?” Jen was trembling with t
he effort of keeping tears from her eyes. She didn’t want to give Esteban the satisfaction.

  His eyes shot wide with another shock of helplessness. What can I say?It was the most excruciating word he’d ever uttered, “Jen?”

  “Dan, it’s me-”

  Esteban stole the receiver back and planted an unwelcome kiss on Jen’s cheek. “That’s enough for now.” He smiled maliciously. “That’s right, Daniel, her mouth. We’ll lay a thin track of our special glue along her lips and seal them shut.”

  Dan remembered the state of his wife’s body when he’d identified her in the morgue. He remembered how blue she’d looked and remembered the signs of stress along her eyelids where she’d tried to tear them open.

  “We’ll give her four hours to think about that too. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop the sobbing. Or at least that bitch you called a wife made an awful noise. It does stop the begging though, so that’s something. But that’s all in the past, right? Onward and upward.” He appraised Jen with an admiring look. “Jen looks like a better screw than your wife anyway.”

  Dan crawled further from Samantha and Cookie, who were watching with anxious expressions. “If you touch her, I swear…”

  “What?” Anger replaced Esteban’s pleasure. “What’re you gonna do about it, tough guy?”

  “I’ll kill you.” It was the simple truth. This one man had done more damage to everything Dan held dear than the rest of the ugliness in the world combined. No matter how long it takes, I will kill you.

  Esteban laughed into the phone. “You go right ahead and try. In fact, I’d be bitterly disappointed if you didn’t try. But it won’t be before Junior gets his turn with your new friend.” He audibly mocked a wince. “And he’s the really rough one. That’s why he has to go last. Do you remember all that bruising around your wife’s genitalis? That was Junior, and he’s grown worse since then. I almost pity Jennifer for what he’ll end up doing to her.”

  Pity?Dan sourly doubted that Esteban was capable of such an emotion.

  “After Junior’s had his jollies there won’t be much left.” Esteban revelled in the resignation he accurately read in Jen’s eyes. “We’ll glue her nostrils shut, which will leave her with two choices. She can either suffocate or tear her own lips to draw breath.” Another mock wince came through the phone to punish Dan’s waiting ear. “You read the autopsy report on your wife, so you know what she chose. I wonder what Jennifer will do?”

  “You’re an animal,” Dan whispered, a primal rage consuming what was left of his sanity – just as Esteban had hoped.

  Esteban thought about that for a moment. “Yes, I am. And proud of it. You know, your wife used her bloodied lips to plea for her life again so we had to leave her writhing in agony for another four hours.” He sighed. “She really was a mess, and the thrashing Junior gave her nearly tore her hands off. It turns my stomach to think about it, truly it does.” But the merry tone of his voice betrayed the lie. “Anyway, if Jennifer’s anywhere near as determined as your wife, we’ll have to spend the final four hours getting drunk. After all, we’ll need full bladders.”

  Dan’s world was swirling from forces more powerful than the chemicals he’d inhaled. He felt the final strings of his sanity fraying at the edges.

  “You know what’s next, don’t you? You probably pieced it together from the pitiful amount of forensic evidence the Australian detectives slipped you. We’ll clamp her head in a vice, glue her messy lips around a funnel, and take turns pissing in it until she drowns on our beer reeking urine.”

  Snap.Dan screamed into the phone, an unintelligible mass of raw energy that, despite the drone of the engine, everyone in the land rover could hear buzzing through Esteban’s mobile. “Your life is forfeit!”

  Esteban laughed, enraging Dan further.

  “Come and get me.” With a final sneer, he hung up, leaving Dan on his hands and knees listening to the beeping tones of the termination signal.

  Dan tightened his grip on the phone until the plastic cracked and he smashed it against the carpet, bending the areal. In a fit of rage he pounded it again and again until the case split and bits of shattered PCB cartwheeled across the floor.

  “What is it?” Samantha retreated into Cookie’s arms, frightened by Dan’s violent outburst.

  Dan didn’t reply. He couldn’t reply. His mind had collapsed and was tormenting him with visions of his tortured wife’s body as she lay on the coroner’s table. Why?He bit hard on his lips to stop the scream that was about to boil from his lungs. Fucking why?It didn’t make sense. Dark emotions swampedhim. Anger seethed through every cell in his body and projected a singular desire for revenge, to take an axe and smash it into those who had snatched his beloved wife. He wanted to maim, to kill and to destroy. He gathered every ounce of energy he had and bent it toward Esteban’s death. The result was a poisoned core, so damaged that he doubted he was capable of feelinganything but hatred. It generated a bloodlust unquenchable by anything except Esteban’s entrails.

  Samantha wasn’t the only one to recoil from Dan’s transformation. Cookie saw the void in Dan’s eyes and wondered what it was. It wasn’t anger, nor was it any feeling he’d had the luxury to catalogue. The closest match was pure, untainted death, living in the mind of a man. He flinched, wondering whether Dan would still recognise they weren’t the enemy.

  “Who was that?” Cookie’s voice cracked with a concoction of fatigue and fear.

  Dan viciously snarled his reply, a guttural bark that could’ve come from the throat of a wolf. “He killed my wife.”

  That stunned Cookie into silence and brought compassion flooding to Samantha’s fearful eyes.

  “And he’s going to kill Jen too,” Dan said, nearly chocking on the words.

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  Dan laughed, cursing himself for his stupidity. Why did I let her go outside? I knew it was dangerous and I let her go anyway.At that moment, an unwelcome emotion surfaced from his past. He hated himself. He loathed what he was and what he’d done. Someone had once told him that people werejudged by their actions in life, not by how much money they made. If that were the case, and if there were an afterlife, then he’d never see Katherine again because he’d rot in hell. He wished he had the power to turn back the clock and hated that he couldn’t. He’d begged to revisit his past in the weeks after Katherine’s murder, but no God had responded to his pleas. His reflection in the mirror revolted him and, eleven months ago, he’d smashed every mirror in the house, bloodying his knuckles and wallowing in the pain from the shards. I deserve pain.He preferred physical agony to the emotional variety; he’d already taken a gutful of that.

  How could I be so fucking careless?It was just as bad as if he’d killed Jen with his own hands. There’s no excuse for negligence.

  But, cruelly, it gave him purpose. He had something to work toward. He doubted he’d be in time to save Jen from her hideous fate, but he’d make certain that Esteban and his thugs would never harm another woman.

  “Dan?”

  He was shaking on the floor, convulsing with self-loathing. Samantha’s voice chiselled through to a part of his mind still capable of rational thought. His first priority had to be to the survivors, they needed him now more than ever. Come on Danny-body, snap out of it.But it was not something he’d ever be able to ‘snap’ out of. It would haunt him until he lay restlessly in his grave. But purpose sharpened his survival instincts and focussed his determination into a fist of cold steel in the pit of his stomach.

  He struggled to stand on wobbly legs and pressed the back of his wrist to his forehead to stem the pounding in his brain. “We have to leave.”

  “Whoa, hang on a second man.” Cookie took a pace forward, ready to catch him if he collapsed again. “Tell us what’s going on.”

  Dan wasn’t in the mood to recount tales of his foolishness, but they deserved to know what they were facing. “Eleven months ago my wife was murdered, I never found out who did it.” The memory still to
re at his chest. “The man who captured Jen just confessed to it, and he said he’ll do the same to her.”

  “Why?” Samantha was fighting tears of anguish.

  “You heard how Jen’s grandfather was assassinated, right?” He waited for them to nod. “He was the one who did it and I was the detective who hauled him back to Australia to face charges.” Dan sighed with sorrow. “I wish I hadn’t. Political pressure got him off the hook, and now he’s pissed.”

  “You mean this is a vendetta?” Samantha asked, mortified.

  Dan nodded. “I suspect so, yes.”

  “But… Why now?” Cookie thought he knew the answer but he wanted to see whether Dan shared his suspicion.

  “I don’t know. As far as I knew, he hadn’t worked for UniForce since assassinating Mike Cameron. It was a public scandal so they sidelined him. Or so I thought.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Valdez. Esteban Garcia Valdez,” Dan replied.

  Cookie nodded vigorously. “Yeah, that’s right. I thought the name was familiar.” He slapped a palm to his forehead. “Damn it!”

  “What?”

  “Ah, you’re not gonna like this.” Cookie briefly pushed his lips sideways before continuing. “I found repeated references to him on their network. He’s their assassination co-ordinator. They revoked his field status in ’59 but he’s been part of UniForce’s management team ever since. He assumed the co-ordinator’s position last year when, I might add, the previous co-ordinator died under suspicious circumstances.”