by J J Cooper
'Nothing bad I hope?' Jay asked.
'She didn't say. She was all upset and crying and shit. I told her that he could call me with his problems. Haven't heard back and his mobile's switched off.'
'That's no good,' Jay said without any sincerity. 'Anything else, boss?'
'Apart from your new girlfriend, how is everything going there with your dad?'
'She's not my girlfriend, boss, and everything is going well with Dad for the time being. I'll keep you updated when things settle down.'
'No worries. Call me anytime, Jay.'
'Will do, boss.'
The call worried Jay on two fronts. An obvious mess had been left in the depths of the Centre from the torture session and his boss had narrowed it down to him or Primrose. More worrying though, the person who'd inflicted the torture hadn't turned up to work and couldn't be reached. Jay had assumed Primrose would have got to the site early and cleaned up the mess. Covered his tracks. Something was wrong and it didn't make sense.
He wandered to the bathroom and washed up, clearing the last of the dried blood from his nose. An aroma immediately filled his head and made its way to the depths of his stomach. Pancakes. He dried off and went into the kitchen.
'You certainly made yourself right at home,' he said as he took up a stool at the kitchen counter.
Sarah turned from the stove. She was wearing an apron that said I'm the boss of the BBQ. 'Well, your boss thinks I'm your girlfriend.'
'Nothing wrong with your ears,' Jay said. 'I set him straight.'
'I wasn't exactly planning on staying in Brisbane this long. They're not all yours,' she said indicating the large plate of pancakes on the bench. 'I can tell both you and your dad are bachelors. Not much in the cupboards, so pancakes it is. Coffee's there, black this time – you're out of milk.'
Jay nodded. He loved strong coffee, but needed it with plenty of milk. It would go untouched. He started on his food. Sarah joined him at the bench and they ate in silence. He was preoccupied with his thoughts. The situation just didn't add up. His father missing, Primrose missing and Lazarau dead.
'What is it?' Sarah asked.
He finished his last mouthful and took his plate to the sink. 'Primrose didn't turn up to work today.'
'Didn't turn up like he's on holidays or like he's missing?'
'His wife called in for him. Didn't really give a story, just said there were some dramas at the Primrose house.'
'A bit like you did?'
Jay allowed a fake smile to speak for him. Smart-arse, he thought. He didn't mind that in a woman and was warming to Sarah's wit.
'OK, listen,' she said. 'We need to speak to Primrose. I've put in requests at the Agency for information on Mr and Mrs Primrose, also this Sub Rosa thing, and I'm waiting for more information on Lazarau. There's still no word on your dad and I've scoured his computer with no success. Which reminds me, where is your dad's safe?'
Jay had forgotten all about the safe. 'Shit yes. Under the laundry sink,' he said, getting up from his seat. Sarah followed.
They moved to the back of the house and into the laundry. Jay bent down below the sink and opened the cupboard. He removed a large box of detergent and handed it to Sarah. The small safe was there with the door ajar. Jay pulled the door all the way open and looked inside. Empty. He shook his head and dropped his shoulders.
'What is it?'
'Nothing in here. Gone.'
'Don't touch anything. I can get some Agency techs down here for printing.'
The two German shepherds next door started barking again. 'Not yet. I don't want people to know about this – the fewer the better. We may be pushing things already with the requests.' He stood up and went to the kitchen. Sarah followed.
There was a knock at the front door. The dogs continued to bark. Jay looked at Sarah and shrugged his shoulders. As he made his way to the front door, he looked out through the windows and noted a military police van parked in the driveway. Two men in camouflaged fatigues with accompanying military police armbands greeted him at the door.
Jay whistled. The barking stopped. 'Yes?' he asked of the two.
'You Sergeant Jay Ryan?' the nearest one asked.
'Yeah. Why's that?'
'You need to come with us back to base.'
'Who are you and why?'
The military policeman looked past Jay toward Sarah. 'I'm Sergeant Cliffe and this is Corporal Taylor,' he said nodding toward the second man to his right. 'I'll explain why in the van.'
The second man kept glancing across the fence in the direction of the two dogs. The red berets on both of their heads sat too high. They weren't tight down over the right ear as they should have been. Taylor's hair stuck out too far from under the beret. Jay looked down at Cliffe's boots. They weren't laced correctly.
Jay turned toward Sarah, closed his eyes for a second and shook his head slightly. He turned back to the two men. 'Identification thanks, gentlemen.' He opened the security screen and held out his good hand.
Cliffe smiled at Jay. 'You see these armbands? They're my identification.'
'Don't be a smart-arse. You can buy those things down at the disposal store. I want to see your ID.' He guessed Sarah was making her way to her backpack, for her standard issue Glock. Hoped she was.
Cliffe reached behind his back.
TWELVE
Jay whistled. A short, sharp blast. The German shepherds responded in an instant. Their barking echoed along the balcony of Ed Ryan's house.
Cliffe and Taylor turned their heads in unison toward the noise.
The opportunity presented for Jay to commence his attack. He launched his boot into Cliffe's midriff. The red beret flew from the man's head as his back smashed against the balcony railings. His right hand cracked against the balustrade, the impact forcing him to drop the pistol he had been carrying. The weapon bounced toward Jay. Cliffe bent forward and dropped to his knees, winded.
Taylor's attention turned from the dogs to the metallic noise of the pistol hitting the balcony. Jay pivoted to his left, took a pace forward and jammed four knuckles into Taylor's throat. Taylor gasped for air. Wide-eyed, he clasped both of his hands around his damaged throat, as though he were choking himself.
Cliffe had dropped to all fours by the time Jay looked back at him. His breaths were shallow and rasping as he raised his head and peered at Jay. The smile had disappeared. He crawled forward and reached for the pistol. Jay balanced and kicked into his ribcage. A sickening crack accompanied a whimper. Cliffe fell to his side on the balcony floor, rolling away from the weapon. He curled and clutched at his ribs.
Jay turned, grabbed Taylor by the back of his neck, and threw him down with his companion. He followed Taylor to the floor and landed with a knee into his spine. The force of the fall knocked the wind from Taylor. Jay straightened him out in a starfish position on the balcony and sat on top of him. He conducted a frisk search. Nothing. No identification, no money, and no wallet. Surprised not to find a weapon, he checked again. Nothing.
He repeated the process with Cliffe. Again, nothing. He got up, breathed in deep and paused to admire his handiwork.
He whistled again and the barking ceased.
Sarah dodged the door onto the balcony, holding a Glock pistol in both hands. She pointed it toward the figures writhing in agony. 'What the hell was that all about?' she asked.
Jay's breaths steadied but the adrenalin still pumped through him. 'Looks like these two boys may have knocked on the wrong door.' He bent down, picked up the 9 mm Browning pistol and handed it to Sarah. 'Make that safe, will you? My hand's still a bit tender.'
'No wonder,' she said. 'What did you do to them? I thought you would've at least waited for me to get my weapon.'
'Not much time,' he said, nodding toward the pistol that Sarah had cleared. He left her on the balcony and went back inside.
'Where're you going?' she called after him.
'To find something to bind these two with.'
Jay rummaged th
rough the kitchen and laundry cupboards until he found what he was looking for. Plastic zip-ties, gaffer tape and two pillowcases. He returned to the balcony with his goods.
'What have you got?' Sarah asked. Her Glock was still trained on the two men who lay face down, hands behind their heads. Both struggled to catch a breath through the pain of their injuries.
Jay ignored the question, bent over Cliffe and affixed the zip-ties to his wrists, tying them securely behind his back. Cliffe groaned until Jay pulled the pillowcase over his head and taped it across his mouth.
'Bit extreme, don't you think?' she asked.
'Bit extreme pulling a pistol on me, too. They want to play army, so I'm just accommodating them.' Jay moved across to Taylor and repeated the binding process.
Jay lifted Cliffe to his feet and pushed him toward the door.
'You can put that away now,' Jay said, nodding towards Sarah's Glock. 'Can you bring Taylor in?'
Jay stopped Cliffe at the doorway. He watched Sarah tuck her weapon in the back of her jeans, move forward and lift Taylor to his feet. She placed one hand on his collar and the other over his belt at the small of his back. Taylor lashed back with his head. She was quick enough to avoid a broken nose and kneed him hard in the side of his thigh. He dropped to the ground. She held on and plunged into his back, no doubt knocking the wind out of him.
Impressive. She had anticipated the headbutt before Jay caught the slight movement forward of Taylor's head in preparation for the strike. Taylor wasn't a small man, either, which made Sarah's reaction even more notable.
She had a forearm on the back of Taylor's neck and withdrew her Glock. 'You want to play games with me, arsehole?' she said, placing the barrel of the pistol into Taylor's ribs. 'Feel that? It's a real fucking weapon. Try that shit with me again and I won't hesitate to use it.' She returned the Glock to the back of her jeans and grabbed a handful of Taylor's hair. After releasing the pressure from his neck, she lifted his head by the hair and smacked it back down onto the balcony. Taylor let out a muffled cry of agony.
Jay was more than impressed.
Sarah forced Taylor into an upright position and followed Jay into the house. The two bound men collapsed with a thud on the lounge-room floor. Jay indicated for Sarah to follow him to the study.
'I need you to get on to the Agency. Find out where those requests are that you sent in,' he said.
'What are we going to do with those two? Who are they?' she asked.
'They're staying here and I intend to find out.'
'I've made the assumption that they aren't military police,' she said. 'How the hell did you know they weren't?'
'How long would it take you to work out if someone was impersonating an agent or a cop?'
She bit into the side of her gum and took a moment to think about the question. 'Not long, I guess. Point taken.'
'Where's the pistol?' he asked.
Sarah lifted the front of her shirt, enough for him to see the pistol.
The flatness of her stomach impressed Jay. He could tell she worked long and hard to keep it that way. 'Nice abs,' he said. He held his hand out for the weapon.
'That's not a good idea,' she said pulling her shirt down.
'What – commenting on your abs? They're great. Work out?'
'I'm talking about the pistol. You don't exactly need it. They're tied up.'
Here we go, Jay thought. The 'I'm the NSIS agent and you're not' speech is coming up. 'I'm going to check the van. Don't want anyone else jumping out at me,' he said.
'I'll check it.'
'No thanks. Just give me the weapon and I'll be back soon.'
'You don't need a weapon.'
Jay thought about it and shrugged. It really didn't matter either way. No need for angst. 'You go, then.'
He watched Sarah walk to the front door. She did work out. The adrenalin from the fight had encouraged his pain away. No longer feeling stiff and sore, he stretched and felt the strength coming back. It was time to prepare Cliffe and Taylor for interrogation.
The German shepherds started barking again, no doubt at Sarah walking down the front steps, Jay thought. But the thought stopped him in his tracks. The two dogs had barked when her cab pulled up earlier and stopped as she walked up the driveway to the front stairs. They never barked at a female visitor, as far as Jay knew, and now they were.
Jay heard the yelling as he bolted for the front door. He wished Sarah had given him the pistol.
'Put your weapon down!' He heard Sarah call out.
'Don't think so, girly. Mine's a shotgun. At this distance you've got the better chance of missing.'
'I'm a federal agent. Put your weapon down. Now!'
Shit, shit, shit, Jay thought as he flew out onto the balcony. He pulled up at the top of the stairs. Sarah was down the bottom, her Glock pointed at a target. Jay's heart skipped a beat as he followed her aim.
He stared in amazement at her target.
THIRTEEN
Mr Hunter leaned over his balcony. The shotgun was a stark contrast to his light blue robe. He stayed focused on Sarah. 'Got her covered, boy,' he said. 'Get that toy off her.'
The German shepherds' barking increased to a frenzy. Jay barely made out Mr Hunter's words. He whistled. The barking slowed to a growl.
'It's all right, Mr Hunter. She's with me.'
'Not what I saw,' he replied. 'I saw her with that pistol on you and those two army blokes. You're lucky I still have the shotty. Went and got it, I did.'
'No,' Jay pleaded. 'I was searching those two. They attacked me. Sarah here is a federal agent. Look, you've got to trust me. Put the gun down and come over. I'll explain it all.'
Sarah stood still. Feet shoulder-width apart and well-balanced. Weapon and eyes trained on her target.
Mr Hunter turned his head to the side and looked at Jay. 'You sure?'
'Of course I'm sure. Now put it down before the other nosy neighbours call the police. You too, Sarah.'
She glared at Jay. He matched her stare until she lowered her weapon. It was the cue for Mr Hunter to lower his.
'Now go and put that bloody thing back inside,' Jay said to Mr Hunter. 'By the way, do you have any ice over there?'
'What?'
'Do you have any ice over there?'
'You know I do. Why?'
'Just bring a bag or two and I'll explain it all when you get here.'
Mr Hunter shuffled back into his house, mumbling to himself. Sarah confronted Jay at the top of the stairs.
'What the hell was that?' she asked.
'Friendly neighbour.'
'You can't be asking him over. Did you forget about the two men you have tied up in your father's lounge-room?'
'No, I didn't forget. He can be trusted.'
'You had better fill me in on why that is, and quick,' she said.
Jay motioned for Sarah to follow him and they made their way back into the study. He whispered the story of Mr Hunter. Sarah remained silent but was animated with the nodding and shaking of her head. Mr Hunter arrived at the front door before Sarah had a chance to ask any questions. Jay came out to greet him and welcomed him inside.
Mr Hunter stared at the two bound men on the lounge-room floor. 'I hope this isn't how you treat all your visitors.' he said.
'Only the ones who try to kidnap me. Over this way and I'll tell you all about it,' Jay said, motioning toward the study. He took two bags of ice from Mr Hunter and squeezed them into his father's freezer before joining the other two.
After formal introductions, Jay went on to explain about Cliffe and Taylor and that his father was missing. He made the link between the two circumstances for Mr Hunter and added that Sarah was a friend who was helping him find his dad. Jay decided not to tell him about the torture he had endured.
Mr Hunter lit up a cigar. 'So where the hell is Ed?' he asked.
'That is what we're about to find out. Now, I shouldn't be getting you involved in this. I just wanted to let you know what was going on, see
ing as you thought something was up over here.'
'Boy, I'm involved now. Takes me back to the days of the Petrovs, it does. I'm still young at heart and we in the business have to look out for each other. Has she been briefed up on my past?' Mr Hunter nodded toward Sarah.
'Yep, all over it, Mr Hunter,' Sarah said, making a hasty exit.
'She's all good,' Jay said. 'You can trust her.'
'If you say so, boy. What do you want me to do?'
'Go run a cold bath,' Jay said.
Mr Hunter blew out some cigar fumes and cocked his head. 'I may be in my robe all day and night but I do take regular showers, you know.'
'It's not for you. I need a cold bath run. And put in that ice you brought over and any other ice you can find in the house. I also need you to take in this fan,' Jay said, pointing to the desk fan next to the computer.
Mr Hunter opened his mouth ready to say something, but didn't. He trudged off to the bathroom. Jay went to the kitchen, where Sarah was leaning on the bench, smoking.
'Can I have one of those?' he asked.
She handed him a cigarette from her packet. He lit it and leaned on the bench too, listening to the bath water running in the background. 'Bet you didn't expect this much fun on your trip to Brisbane,' he said.
'Yeah, I'm having a screaming good time.'
Sensing her sarcasm, Jay decided not to continue with the small talk. Mr Hunter joined them and they smoked in silence. Jay wondered how the hell the three of them had come to be in this situation. Not long ago he was being tortured, tattooed and urinated on. The type of night he wouldn't want to repeat. No doubt this kind of thing was some excitement for Bill Hunter, away from the normal day of retirement stuck in front of the TV. Sometimes he envied Bill's laid-back outlook on life. If only. Sarah was a different kettle of fish, he thought. Full of beans and very professional.
He finished his cigarette and went into the bathroom. He turned off the tap and positioned the fan on the sink pointing down towards the bath. A cool breeze came through the window. Mr Hunter joined him with more ice. Jay left him to it and returned to the kitchen.