BEYOND THE SPRING

by Mike S Martin

  Nothing else was said as Bostock and Jim left, slamming the door behind them leaving Alex looking at two men pointing their weapons directly at him. They too were dressed in expensive looking suits like Bostock and with their designer haircuts and expensive watches. Very rarely did these guys come with shaved heads and tattoos and look thug like. These were professional dedicated looking people who had to fit in anywhere and everywhere and not look like they had just come out of prison. They didn’t do macho bullshit like in the films because they took killing seriously almost like an art. Alex carefully prepared the flick knife in his pocket then mumbled something to the two guys in the hope of drawing them nearer.

  “Sorry what did you say?” asked one of them without moving an inch.

  “I said you look nervous” repeated Alex.

  “So you’re the famous Alex Richards” said the one called Scotty lowering his weapon to show that he wasn’t scared of his prey.

  “I suppose you’re only as famous as people, or should I say your fans make you” smiled Alex knowing exactly what he was going to do and when.

  “Do you not think Bostock has told us what you are likely to do to get out of this?”

  “Maybe although I haven’t seen him for a while so I would imagine he has no idea what I might do”

  “Enough of the bullshit now turn around and face the wall with your hands flat against it” demanded Bob who was now getting impatient.

  Alex turned around and placed his hands up against the wall, managing to keep his knife hidden. His aim was to keep some distance between him and the wall so he would be able to move quickly but maybe this time Bostock had him weighed up and knew him too well. The guy called Bob pressed the weapon hard up against the back of Alex’s head forcing his face to be pushed tight up against the wall meaning he was now pinned and if he moved even one muscle his brains would be all over the soundproof wall. He didn’t have to face Bob to know he was slowly and purposefully pulling the trigger back on the browning to perform the execution as he could feel the vibration and the movement. The crack of the weapon being fired was deafening then for a second or two there was an eerie silence. Scotty was so confident Richards was dead he turned to leave the room before witnessing the aftermath of an execution like the blood spraying the wall or seeing his body hitting the floor still twitching until the nerves eventually died.

  “Fucking shame really……I’ve heard about some of the shit that guy has done, fucking legend!”

  Scotty mumbled to himself as he placed his weapon back into its holster under his jacket.

  His over confidence was to be his downfall. It was approximately 1, maybe 2 seconds from when he turned away to his comment leaving his lips but it was enough for Alex. As Scotty glanced back to look at Bob for an answer to his comment, expecting to see the detective’s body breathing his last he was confronted with what Alex was capable of and had him wishing he had not put his weapon away. Bob was still just about standing but was now glaring at Scotty. A flick knife had been pushed diagonally through the bottom of his chin, into his bottom and top jaws and was now sticking out of his cheek bone meaning he was unable to talk. Alex was now holding Bob’s weapon and pointing it at him. In a flash and a second crack Bob was dead from a bullet through the head.

  “Where’s the boy and his mother?” demanded Richards, casually pointing the weapon in Scotty’s direction and looking strangely serene.

  “Fucking hell!” whispered Scotty who still seemed stunned at what was unfolding.

  “Please don’t go for your weapon……where’s the boy?” asked Alex again.

  “I don’t know I swear only Bostock and a few others knew the room, you know how it works”

  “Where can I get the key cards from?”

  The fact that Alex seemed calm and relaxed and now had the weapon down by his side led Scotty into a false sense of security and he made the mistake of thinking now was his chance to get the drop on Alex by reaching for his weapon. A third crack of the weapon blew Scotty’s knee cap clean off forcing him to drop to the floor and scream in agony still clutching his browning in readiness to fire. He gasped for air and fought the pain and anger, reluctant to black out as Alex knelt down next to him.

  “I don’t know fuck all I swear!” said Scotty as he threw the weapon away and pleaded with Alex to spare him.

  Alex stood and walked away towards the door leaving his victim thanking him.

  “If I knew Richards I would tell you I swear!” gasped Scotty.

  Alex lifted the weapon and pointed it at him shooting him straight through the head with one shot. Showing no emotion Alex rifled through the pocket of Bob and found the key card that would let him out of the room. He now wanted Bostock.

  Chapter 14

  Andy checked his watch as Wyre glanced at him searching for clues as to what he might be thinking. It was as these few minutes ticked by that Wyre quickly pondered on what the hell he would have done if Andy and Alex had not got involved. He felt that this emotional ordeal was coming to an end and dared not think of the consequences if he would have had to do this on his own or with the help of the police not knowing how corrupt the whole system was. He would have no doubt come up against a brick wall if what Andy and Alex had told him was anything to go by and if in fact it was all true.

  “Right let’s go and see what we can see” announced Andy turning the key in the ignition and grabbing the wheel.

  It was as they pulled out from the petrol station that Andy spotted the car pulling out from the industrial estate, instantly recognising it as Bostock’s. Without telling Wyre and doing his best not to make eye contact with the occupants, Andy’s eyes strained to see if they had been spotted without turning his head. It seemed they had gone unnoticed but to be sure Andy drove straight past the entrance.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Wyre immediately sensing things were not quite right and realising Andy had driven straight past the turning.

  “Bostock just left the estate”

  “Where?” asked Wyre looking to check every vehicle around them.

  “In the black BMW going the other way”

  “Bastard!” said Wyre sounding disappointed he was getting away.

  “There will be others but we have to find Alex fast” proclaimed Andy now sounding slightly more desperate. He knew if Bostock was leaving things were happening, most likely killings and murder. His heart sank at the thought of Richards going in unarmed and realised no matter how good he was he didn’t know any man who could walk out of a situation such as this. He did his best to hide his thoughts from Wyre as he slammed the brakes on and spun the car around then headed back to the estate throwing caution to the wind. It would have to be guess work to find the exact building but Andy had to trust his instinct and experience.

  *

  Alex swiped the key card and pulled the door open at the sound of the lock releasing. On entering the corridor he listened for any sign of activity but was greeted with silence. He headed in the direction from where he had been first led in but the door was locked. It wouldn’t even accept the key card he had so he turned and headed in the opposite direction. Glancing at the cameras on the wall he turned the corner where the rooms he had visited only minutes earlier were. The one thing he did notice and thought was strange was that the cameras weren’t following him as he walked. This told him he might be alone with no one manning the cameras in the control room. The only habitants would be Bostock’s hostages. Calmly making his way further along the long corridor he quietly listened at the doors hoping to hear a sign that the occupant might be Oliver or Susan. After trying the key card repeatedly with no luck Richards noticed a room with no door. Instead it had white polythene sheets hanging in the entrance and he was sure he could hear a voice or maybe even numerous voices coming from inside. With weapon drawn Alex approached, carefully pulling the polythene to one side and peering in. The view that greeted him resembled a sort of hospital ward with beds dotted around against the walls to his right an
d to his left. The voice had become slightly louder but as hard as he tried Alex could not make out individual words. In the long ward type room there were six beds that were all empty apart from a still figure lay naked on top of the mattress of one of them. With his weapon down by his side Richards approached the figure that was tied to the bed and realised straight away that whoever they were they were dead. It was a young woman of about 20 and by the colour of her skin she had been dead for at least a few hours. Richards touched her stone cold hand re-confirming she had long passed. Studying her stomach he noticed bruising and what looked like needle marks around her belly button. They then carried on down one side of her pubic hair on her vagina to top of her left thigh then stopped, only to carry on below the knee.

  “What the fuck have you been doing now Bostock” Mumbled Alex.

  Apart from the bruising and needle marks her skin looked pallor but immaculate. Mumblings from an unseen voice could be heard once again as Alex left the girl then proceeded to the next room through a door at the end of the ward. There were various recognisable smells that drifted in Alex’s direction as he entered the room that was much darker with hardly any light. None of the rooms had windows so relied on artificial light but in this one there was just a dim lamp in the corner. This room had four beds with a screen around each and Richards approached the first one with his weapon again down by his side. Slowly sliding the plastic screen open Richards studied the figure of a man still fully suited, again strapped down on the bed. This one was alive but only just as Richards checked his pulse and looked into his eyes. They were darting from side to side with the colour almost gone and they barely noticed the man now stood over him. The next screened bed was empty but the third was where the mumblings were coming from so he approached with slightly more caution. On pulling the screen back Alex was faced with a situation he had not seen for years. The guy barely noticed the detective watching as he gnawed at his wrist to free himself. As Alex studied the situation he realised the poor bastard had already chewed his right hand off either through desperation or hunger and again needle marks told him he was filled with drugs. There was nothing but a bloody stump with bones fully exposed. Even the detective was surprised the guy was still alive as he proceeded to bite large lumps of flesh off his left hand and wrist then spit them onto the floor whilst mumbling some sort of prayer. His face was covered in dried blood and sinew, his eyes telling Richards his mind had long gone. Alex could not help notice how yellow the guy’s skin looked, almost luminous. Quietly closing the screen he continued past the rest of the screens not wishing to see more horror, to a locked door. It did not require a key card as it was just a standard lock. With the flat of his boot Richards kicked the door open only to be faced with more horror. It was only a small room but in it the walls were covered in a fireproof lining and discarded in the corner like unwanted rubbish was lumps of black charcoal reeking of burnt pork. Alex wished to see no more and even for his experience the whole place was incomprehensible. Of all what he had been involved in and had done in his past all this seemed pretty extreme even for Bostock. The fact that the only person he had found had been driven to insanity was worrying Alex and his hopes of finding Wyre’s family alive were getting slimmer. As he was about to turn around and walk out he spotted something in the pile of burnt remains near the open fire. Getting nearer he could just make out the shape of a hand but it was what was on the hand that had Alex shaking his head and had drawn him to inspect closer. On one of the fingers was an object that resembled a ring that had been damaged by the flames and heat but was still recognisable. He had seen it whilst in Wyre’s house when it was obvious Susan had been taken as well as Oliver. He had not seen it in its physical form but in a picture. The picture Alex had picked up off the floor amongst the mess and chaos. It was definitely the same ring.

  “Bostock you bastard!” said Alex as he took the ring off the lump of charcoal and placed it in his pocket.

  “You bastards I’m going to kill you!” shouted a voice from behind Alex.

  He quickly turned around to see the crazed guy who had chewed his hand off holding a knife with his badly injured left hand. His body shook as he was barely able to stand through fear, shock and probably lack of energy and malnutrition. Richards watched the guy as he seemed to sum up all his energy to lunge at the detective. There was no hesitation as Richards shot him directly between the eyes as the guy almost left the ground with the force of the bullet hitting him. It was time to find Oliver assuming he was still alive so Alex made his way back past the other victims. It never crossed his mind to put them out of their misery or even tell them to hang on he would get help. He wasn’t there for that and no emotion was shown as he re-entered the corridor and tried to think of a way to get into the rooms. It was just at that time the door at the end that had been locked previously now opened and three men entered, immediately opening fire on Richards forcing him to dive for cover around the corner. The weapons were the Heckler and Koch semi- automatic weapons affectionately used by various Special Forces and one of Alex’s personal favourites. The noise was deafening as each one of them took it in turns to fire a few shots in his direction. One thing Alex was certain of was that he could not afford to waste shots on injuring anyone. These guys might be people he perhaps knew but he was adamant nothing less than killing them would do. Oliver was his priority now it looked like Susan had been murdered. The detective calmly listened to the footsteps slowly approaching on the lino floor with slight whispers the only other sounds.

  *

  All seemed quiet as Wyre and Andy approached what looked like an unused office building. They parked the car near the entrance of the glass double doors and waited to see if they had drew any attention from inside.

  “Right we’re going in Wyre, have you got your weapon?”

  Wyre drew a deep breath as he touched the browning pistol in its holster under his jacket.

  “Right you stay behind me and stay close”

  Wyre nodded as Andy pulled his Heckler and Koch weapon off the back seat of the car and placed the sling over his shoulder then checked his browning pistol by touching his holster. They both walked calmly up to the door and pressed their faces up against the glass to get a better look inside. It resembled a reception area of a working office but there was no one visible. Andy tried the doors to see if they would open but they were locked.

  “Are you sure this is the place?” asked Wyre nervously checking the horizon for any sign of hostiles.

  “Let’s try the tradesman’s entrance” replied Andy.

  As they reached the corner of the aluminium clad building, voices echoed down the narrow walkway next to it, forcing Andy to place his arm across Wyre’s chest to stop him. Very slowly Andy poked his head around to see who the voices were. He was safe as the voices holding weapons were now walking in the opposite direction, probably to where their cars were parked. Pulling his head back around the corner he placed his hand on Wyre’s shoulder.

  “Whatever you see me do Wyre please try and remember Susan and Oliver!”

  Wyre nodded almost like he was forgiving Andy for what he might do. Whilst working in war torn countries Wyre was used to seeing death and killing. Many a person he had held in his arms whilst they breathed their last but he had no say in what had happened to them. He was just there to pick up the pieces and deal with the consequence of other people’s actions. Andy knew that Wyre was now indirectly responsible for what would happen next. Wyre was now on the other end of the fence creating or at least watching and supporting the taking of life even if it was for a just cause. Andy had spent the last few years trying to persuade Wyre to carry a weapon for his own defence so had to watch him like a hawk to make sure he would not hesitate if he had to pull the trigger.

  “Ok Wyre let’s go!” whispered Andy.

  In a controlled manner they both walked along the narrow walkway towards the door that had now closed. Andy’s focus was on the corner of the building where the three armed guys
had just disappeared around. Wyre could feel his breathing getting quicker as the adrenalin and fear started to take over as they neared the door. Inside he was praying that nobody would appear and they could slip in, find Alex and his family and just get the hell out of there. The door was no more than a few feet away as Wyre kept himself close up against the aluminium cladding and Andy was like a lion waiting to pounce on its prey. Wyre could just about peer over Andy’s shoulder and see the corner as his heart tried its best to pound its way out of his chest. The daylight that was visible at the other end of the walkway all of a sudden became dark as the silhouettes of men appeared obviously making their way back to the building. Wyre instinctively pressed his self as tight as he could up against the cladding as Andy, with no hesitation quickly lifted the weapon to the firing position. The cracking sound of Andy’s weapon finding its targets was something Wyre was used to but what was new to him was the sight of the bullets tearing into their victims at such close range. With fear and a sickening feeling Wyre watched as Andy in a blink of an eye moved the Heckler and Koch from one target to the other spraying short bursts in the heads and chests of those who were given no chance of firing back. Literally in seconds all three of them were sprawled in the walkway with open chest wounds and head shots.

  “This is it Wyre there’s no going back. Take your weapon out!”

  Wyre removed his weapon and held it tightly. The familiarity of holding and firing a weapon on the ranges in Hereford and the Middle East came back to him as they opened the door and entered the building. Directly in front of them was a stair well that climbed ten steps then returned back on itself to the next floor where voices could be heard? Andy indicated to Wyre that he wished him to stay where he was as he carefully and quietly jumped up the steps three at a time. A number of footsteps could be heard hurrying down the stairs towards Andy making Wyre grip his weapon in readiness. Wyre quietly prayed that nobody appeared in the doorway behind him from the narrow walkway. Much to Wyre’s surprise Andy indicated to him to quickly follow him and on reaching Andy realised the footsteps were just above them. Andy held his finger up to his mouth and guided Wyre into a room that had its door ajar. They both crept in and waited until the descending footsteps were right outside the door. Wyre’s eyes bulged as he could almost feel and hear their breath through the gap. They immediately suspected something as they slowed down at the sight of the door to the outside being open after hearing the sound of gunfire. Wyre watched as with his right foot Andy swung the door open and with no mercy opened fire at head height at everyone in front of him. They didn’t stand a chance at such close range. The long burst of fire vibrated through Wyre’s head and body shaking his skull, almost forcing him to scream as the adrenalin surged through him. In seconds it was over and Andy reached back in to the room to indicate to Wyre it was safe to leave.