by J J Cooper
Eli rubbed his chin. He picked up Jay's phone from the table and handed it to David. 'You know what will happen should the conversation head in a different direction.'
Jay glanced at his throbbing foot. He couldn't feel the pain; it was numb. 'Yeah, I know.'
David bought the phone near to Jay. 'What number?' he said.
'Dial one-two-two-three. It's operator assistance.' Jay gave the name of the bank as David dialled.
The call was put through and David held the phone to Jay's ear. He requested to speak with Shannon and a moment later, she came on the line.
'Good afternoon, Shannon speaking.'
He didn't want to give her time to discuss the shootings at the bank. 'Hello, Shannon. It's Jay Ryan. Firstly, thank you for your assistance this morning in trying to resolve the problem I was having. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to fix it and will need to send someone up there to access my safe deposit box.'
By the extended pause, it seemed she was assessing the information and wondering what to make of it. He hoped it didn't take too long. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait.
'Of course, Mr Ryan. And I am so sorry for the inconvenience this morning. Totally our fault. Sometimes our security guard can get a little overzealous. I think you may have broken his arm though. Good news is that he'll fully recover.'
At least one bit of good news. 'Great. So no problems sending my friend up there to see you?'
'As long as your friend has the appropriate access codes, it shouldn't be a problem. Is your friend like those with you this morning?'
Smart girl, great question, he thought. 'Yes, that's great. His name is David and he'll be there in around an hour's time. Thanks for your time, Shannon. Hope to see you again soon.'
David took the phone away.
That's one taken care of, Jay thought.
'Awful lot of talking going on there, Mr Ryan. What happened at the bank this morning?' Eli said.
'A security guard recognised me from a news bulletin as a person of interest in a murder your friend here helped commit.' He indicated Dalia. 'So I threw him through a window.'
'And you want David to walk into the bank and get something out of a safety deposit box when you're a wanted criminal?'
'I'm not wanted anymore. All charges were dropped and accusations withdrawn when the police realised who Dalia was.'
Eli nodded as if he already knew the facts. 'We are here, after all, to clean up the mess she's left,' he said. Eli and David headed for the door. Jay watched them in the mirror, still propped where Dalia had left it. They had a short conversation that Jay couldn't hear. Then David left.
Eli stopped at the bar fridge and got out a can of scotch and dry and a bottle of water. He put both on the table, picked up his pistol and aimed it towards Jay. 'Left- or right-handed?' he asked.
Shit, Jay thought. He was going to be shot in his good hand. He lied. 'Left.'
Eli walked over to Jay and stood on his ankle. It forced Jay to roll slightly to the right. The bullet wound had numbed his leg. He could barely feel the pressure on his ankle.
'If you keep your hand clenched like that you are likely to lose a couple of fingers. Best for the round to pass through the palm. No screaming or yelling either. Anything above a whimper and you'll get the other hand done for free.'
Jay forced his hand open. He clenched his jaw. Every muscle in his body strained with anticipation. He closed his eyes against the inevitable.
The mood changed. 'What happened to your hand?' Eli asked.
Jay opened his eyes and turned his head toward Eli. 'A nail will do that to you.'
Eli gave a chuckle. 'Dalia used the Sub Rosa thing?'
'Yeah.'
'Tattoo?'
'Under the watch.'
'She'd come a long way. It's a shame really.'
'Real shame.'
The spit of the round leaving the silencer registered before Jay felt anything. He stared in shock at the tiny hole in his hand. Charred outer edges. No blood, yet. Then the pain hit. He bit hard into his lip and gums and tasted the blood in his mouth. The burning raced up his arm and spun around his head.
Eli turned back to the table, got the can of scotch and dry and placed it against the wound. He left the weapon on the table and took a knife from his pocket. He cut through the pillowcase and eased Jay's hand and the drink into his lap. The knife went back into the pocket and he popped the ring pull from the can. 'One scotch and dry served as requested,' he said.
It started with headspins and slight blurring of his vision. Jay knew he was losing too much blood from the wound in his foot and the shock of having another hole in his hand wasn't helping his cause. He had no strength in his arm to lift the can to his mouth but realised somehow he had to survive. He pushed through the pain and started to roll his left shoulder to get the blood flowing. He slowly worked his fingers around the can. He shook with the sheer effort of his overworked muscles trying to lift the drink to his bloodied lips. He looked over to Eli, who was sitting down at the table mesmerised by the spectacle. The can inched towards his lips. He tilted his head back and lifted his elbow. The scotch flowed down his throat and poured down the sides of his mouth. He swallowed as much as he could before his muscles gave out and the can dropped onto his thigh and bounced to the floor beside Dalia. He brought his head forward and allowed his arm to fall back into his lap.
Eli clapped. 'Amazing,' he said. 'That must be one bad dream you keep having. Now, you wanted some cigarettes, didn't you?'
FIFTY
Jay gritted his teeth and thought about the hole in his hand. No point experiencing the pain of the other hand being shot just to hold a cigarette. 'I think I'll skip the cigarettes.'
'No. A last request must be honoured,' Eli said.
'I'd rather a bullet in my head than my other hand.'
'Don't be like that. You must have known I had to disable you before I could cut your hand loose.' He got up off the chair and walked around behind Jay. 'I'll get the concierge to bring up some cigarettes for you. What type do you smoke?'
Laced with cyanide would be nice, he thought. 'Make them heavy and unfiltered.'
'Good choice. Not as if you need to worry about lung cancer anymore.' He placed the call, ordered the cigarettes and resumed his position in front of Jay. 'Would you like to swap some professional war stories while we wait for David?'
'Not really,' Jay said. He blinked hard to keep focused. He knew he was going to slip into unconsciousness soon. He wanted to let go, but instinct told him to wait.
'You don't even want to know what the general told us?'
Jay shook his head. Something was happening. He tried to focus.
'Well, actually he didn't really say much to us. The old bastard had a heart attack before we even got him out. We dropped him in the desert.'
Jay cleared his throat. 'Must say that you've got big balls, pinching him from us in that place.'
Eli gave a chuckle. 'Simple really. You'd be surprised how easy it is to walk into a camp full of Special Forces troops. Just need to say the right things, flash a fake ID and walk on in.'
'Fascinating.'
'Not really . . . you staying with me, Mr Ryan? Perhaps another drink. Can't have you dying just yet. Thought you were made of tougher stuff.'
Jay shook his head to clear it. That's when he saw the movement in the mirror. As Eli stood to go to the fridge, something moved below the door to the corridor. Jay was at ground level, a perfect position. An adrenalin shot pumped his heart a beat or two faster. Eli obscured the door as he opened the fridge. Jay averted his eyes from the mirror when he returned.
'Here you go. Don't suppose you could hold this one?'
Jay gave a slight shake of the head.
A hissing sound rang in his ears as Eli sprung the top off the can and held it to Jay's mouth. Jay tilted his head back and enjoyed the cold drink crawling down his throat followed by the fire in his belly as the scotch wound through his system. He downed half the can b
efore Eli took it away and went back to his chair.
A movement in the mirror caught his attention again. That's when he saw it and knew straight away what it was. He had spent a lot of time with the SASR and had seen similar gadgets. A small camera on a flexible spring. A reconnaissance tool used before a house clearance or a hostage rescue. He looked away from the mirror before Eli had turned back to him.
A tap on the door. 'Concierge, sir.'
Yes, Jay thought.
Eli grabbed the pistol from the table and moved to the door. Jay watched in the mirror as Eli peered through the peephole. Jay braced himself for what was coming. Eli stepped back and opened the door. Jay wanted them to kill the son-of-a-bitch. An onslaught of police, agents or even the SASR boys were about to come through, he was sure. But it didn't happen. Had he imagined the camera? He blinked harder and looked in the mirror again. Eli was walking back with the cigarettes. The door was closed. No camera or saviours in sight. He dropped his head. The last glimmer of hope extinguished. There was no fight left in him. Death waited around the corner. Not long now, he thought. He hoped Shannon would have called the police and they might at least pick up David. When he didn't return there would no doubt be some serious consequences for Jay. More torture. He had no hope of a quick death. He shut his eyes and willed himself to die.
A match struck the side of a box beside his head. An orange glow lightened the darkness.
'Wake up, Jay,' said the little girl of his dreams. 'It's almost over, you'll see,' she said in her sweet voice. 'If I tell you something that will save you, will you save me?'
He told her yes and she leant in close, took a deep breath and screamed into his ear, Incoming!
The reaction was automatic. His eyes opened to chaos and he brought his damaged arm over his head as he buried himself into the carpet as low as he could go. Screaming, shouting, glass breaking, furniture overturned. Bullets flew over his head like the world's fastest mosquitoes. Then gloved hands picked him up and his arm dropped to the floor as the other tie was cut. He didn't hear their voices, didn't dare open his eyes. Hoped it wasn't a dream. Hoped the good guys had won in the end.
He was gently placed on the bed. 'Jay Ryan, can you hear me? Don't let go. Stay with us, mate. Get the paramedics in here.'
Another voice said, 'Move back.'
Ice water hit, stinging his lips and cheeks. The bitter cold nipped through him and forced air deep into his lungs. His heavy breaths jolted his brain into action. He opened his eyes.
An ice cube ran across his lips. 'He's coming to,' a voice said. Heavily armed police surrounded Jay. He smiled. Bill had come through for him.
He heard an officer throw up in the bathroom. He had discovered Tanya. Jay lifted his body and propped himself up on a forearm. A man in a suit stepped over the bodies of Eli and Dalia to get to Jay. He introduced himself and before he asked anything, Jay started recounting what had happened in the room. Medics worked on his wounds as the detective took frantic notes. He stopped Jay to make a call when David and his trip to the bank were mentioned. Jay refused to be taken to the ambulance until he'd told the detective the rest of the story. The detective placed another call to confirm whether they'd found a body in the trunk of the BMW. It seemed like an eternity on hold while Jay waited for the news.
The detective shook his head and put away the phone. 'Confirmed. No body in the trunk of the car.'
Jay frowned, sat up and rubbed his good hand through his hair. Then he remembered the room key. He dug into his pocket. It wasn't there. David must have taken it when Jay was searched. 'Next door! Check next door,' he said. 'I think that's where she is ... Sarah. Check next door.' He tried to get off the bed but strong hands held him back. A needle went into his arm and he watched the detective and a few police officers run for the door.
He prayed she was there. That it wasn't too late.
'We found her,' a voice called out. 'She's alive.'
Jay smiled and drifted off.
EPILOGUE
Six months later
The waves roared as though they were the guardians of the sea, the first line of defence being pushed ashore. They curled high enough to engulf those who dared take on the ocean's force. The whitewash was like barbed-wire for her perimeter, crawling onto the pure white sand, tempting and teasing, before drawing back and re-setting her defences.
Jay covered his eyes against the morning sun as it crept from behind the Byron Bay lighthouse. His surfboard dug into the sand and he leaned against it, contemplating the best way to breech the ocean's defences. Calculating how to use her force to pull him out through the whitewash so he could ride the gladiators of the sea back in. Then start all over again.
The shallows lapped against the wound on his foot that had healed with the ocean's help. It had been a painful rehabilitation. His hand had taken longer to come right and he figured it would be another year or so before he got all his strength back. He looked at his hand as he held it high to block out the sun. A life's chapter over and another just begun. Six months of life after the military. Six months of deep sleep without the little girl in his dreams.
'Thought I'd find you here,' called a voice from behind.
Jay smiled and turned his head. An older version of himself came down the sand. Business suit with the trousers rolled up and an expensive pair of shoes in his hand.
'Hi, Dad,' Jay said.
They embraced. Ed looked out to the ocean and they watched in silence as another set battered down.
Ed turned to Jay. 'Not doing it tough anymore, mate?'
'Nope. Not anymore.'
'I see your favourite football star has retired. Seems he had to.'
Jay chuckled. 'He shouldn't holiday where I now live.'
'Bad hand and all, you still kicked his arse.'
'Just kicked him in the soft spot. At least he won't be straying for a while.'
Ed laughed. 'Have you considered what you want to do?'
'What do you mean, Dad?' He knew what he meant. 'I'm doing what I want to do.'
'You know what I mean, son. Getting back in the saddle, sort of thing.'
'I already told you I'm not going back to the military. Got the official goodbye certificate last week. And I already told you I'm not coming to work for you.'
'It's different now, Jay. Different government, different ways of doing business.'
'Because you're the Director of NSIS now? What happened to your retirement plans?'
'You know we can never retire. Just fade in and out. I enjoyed freelancing for them for a while, but that itch was still there. Pat's death, and its circumstances, were tragic. And the things he did were somewhat understandable, to a degree. I hate to think what I would have done in a similar situation. Regardless, he was a professional and left the Agency in good shape. He'll be missed. Besides, it's a temporary thing for me until they find someone else.'
Jay knew Pat hadn't recovered from the heart attack and had died without knowing about his daughter's murder. 'You never were any good at gardening. You'll stay with the Agency.'
Ed grinned. 'Probably.'
'No better man for the job, but it's not for me, Dad.' Jay kicked at the sand and thought about Sarah. He hadn't heard from her since the shooting. She had disappeared into the shady world of the spy business.
'You ever move on from Mum?' Jay knew he shouldn't have said it, not today – Mother's Day.
'You know the answer, boy.'
Jay sighed and looked toward the lighthouse, contemplating what might have been.
'Why do you think she kept Sarah alive?'
'Dalia went rogue. Mossad are the best at what they do. Nobody ever leaves Mossad voluntarily. The shutters are up tight on the entire story. We never did pick up that other agent from the bank. Never made it there. He's to the wind. But to answer your question, I suppose she wanted to be one step ahead of you at every turn.'
'She was.'
'Not when it counted. You're still here, son.'
Ed rea
ched into his jacket and pulled out a handful of red petals. He gave them to Jay and retrieved some for himself. They dropped a few on the sand and watched them get sucked back into the sea.
'I miss your mum every minute of the day, every day of the year. It's been a long time, but you are my eternal reminder of the wonderful person she was. A heart of gold and an understanding of right and wrong.'
They scattered the rest of the petals and embraced.
'You did the right thing, son. The troops are coming home because of you. Stability in the region is a long way off, but you set it on the right path by sending that disc to Hans Zinner.'
'They still haven't located his daughter's remains?'
'No. Still not watching the news?'
Jay shook his head.
'Zinner took down the government without making that disc public. He's just announced he is leaving politics. He lost a wife and a daughter to the affairs of state. Got too much. He's actually thinking of moving up here. I suppose to be closer to where his daughter felt free.'
After six months by the surf, Jay knew the feeling.
'What about our relationship with the US?'
'The new PM is biding his time. The US will have a new government themselves soon. The movement of those weapons into Israel with the knowledge of the US is a popular conspiracy theory now. They'll never admit it.'
Jay shook his head. 'The bigger picture, right.'
'Talk to me about your plans, son. My mail is clogged with requests from organisations begging you to work for them. Got to get back on the bike.'
'I thought you said to get back in the saddle.' Jay grabbed his surfboard and strapped on his leg-rope. 'How's Bill going?'
Ed chuckled. 'Screwing the Agency out of a shitload of money. Has to be the oldest and highest-paid security consultant in the world.'
'You still hiring him?'
'Just about every job he can take. He's starting his own company so he can sit on a beach drinking cocktails in his robe while his business drips money on him. He wants you to go and work with him. He says he hasn't called so you can have your space. After all that's happened, though, I think he really misses you.'