Persona Non Grata

by D. C. Grahame

  ‘God damn it.’ he moaned to himself irritated, jumping in surprise. John laid on the sofa, television remote in hand. ‘Why are you always having breakfast here?’ Indy asked, irritated as his pulse resumed to a steady pace.

  ‘Feels weird being in the house when Kendrick’s there.’

  ‘Because you’re trying to mack on his misses, perhaps?’

  ‘Yeah that. But it’s not why I came round.’ John explained, pointing to the television. Indy moved closer to his brother to catch a glance of the broadcast.

  ‘What the...’ he whispered to himself.

  ‘Our breaking news today.’ The anchor-lady of the news announced.

  ‘Following conclusive DNA evidence gathered at multiple scenes. KCPD has begun a manhunt for the individual they believe to be the Worthing Killer. Tobias Razz, a wanted felon with several narcotics charges and criminal ties to both Kingsland, London and Worthing is now the KCPD’s prime suspect.’

  ‘Toby Razz? Your boy?’ Indy asked in disbelief.

  ‘He’s not my boy. In fact, he’s had it out for me since he lost it all from the Nico fight.’

  ‘Well, it seems he’s found a vocation.’ Indy declared as the broadcast cut to Detective Mann filling in for an absent and ever reluctant Marler.

  ‘We believe Mr Razz is seeking refuge with a former associate. We have a full profile available on our website, but we advise all citizens to choose caution. Be assured, we will find him.’ She concluded, stepping away from the press gathering.

  ‘Marler knows how to pick his partners.’ John remarked as he caught Indy looking on in a realm of speculation. ‘Indy, you almost look disappointed. Do you really need to be the one to find him?’

  ‘That’s not it. What she said... the former associate. Didn’t you say he arrived near the time you did?’

  ‘Yes, Red said he was setting up a manufacturing gig with some unknown sponsor. That he was looking at developing some new legal high.’ John informed while Indy considered the potential sponsors. A shortlist of people dangerously ambitious enough to work alongside Razz.

  ‘Wait a minute.’ Indy rattled, registering a candidate. ‘I have a bad feeling about this.’

  ✽

  Frank’s alarm clock blasted a rock anthem at a decibel that almost shook his bedroom. An oldie but goodie AC/DC track powered through the surround system Frank had wired to his alarm clock. The double-glazed windows braced themselves for the relentless sound waves. All of which most likely woke the neighbours.

  In the storm of noise, almost oblivious to it, Frank awakened peacefully. His eyes opening a minute after the music had erupted. Sitting up from his unusual slumber, he looked around his minimalist apartment.

  Recently moved in, it was similar to Indy’s in aesthetic, albeit far more expensive. He stared at the singular painting he had hung up. A massive print of an un-named drawing from Robert Longo’s Men in the Cities series. It was immediately recognisable to anyone who had seen the Christian Bale film American Psycho. One of Frank’s all-time favourites. The image showed a finely-dressed man in an empty white space, either excited or overwhelmed. Frank purchased it as a frequent reminder that with all his ambition. It could all be undone through negligence or mere un-readiness.

  Out of bed and into his walk-in wardrobe. He selected one of twenty or so suits. With every colour imaginable available with the strange exception of black.

  ‘Alexa, tell me my balances.’ he ordered a small electronic device slotted in the corner of the bespoke closet.

  ‘Good morning Frank, it is 7.34am, Thursday. Your current balances are: Checking, $140,340, Savings, $780,304. You have a single outgoing today, to recipient ‘K,’ for a total of $30,000. If you would like to cancel this payment, please say cancel now.’ Alexa stated with a semi-automated tone. Frank stood silent. Selecting one of the several opulent watches neatly placed in his drawer. Cuffing the most modest version to his wrist. Hearing his phone ring in the other room, he answered it as he locked up.

  ‘Yes.’ he responded with a neutral, disinterested tone. ‘Yes, I’m sure. Are we set?’ He queried. ‘Good.’ he replied, hanging up and entering an awaiting car.

  ✽

  Indy recognised a difference in Frank the moment his brother walked into the coffee house. In a single month, his brother had evolved in some unspoken way. It wasn’t the Frank he knew from before Christmas. The confidence, the calmness, it felt real this time.

  ‘Bro.’ Frank greeted, embracing his twin in a bear hug.

  ‘How are you doing?’ Indy smiled a reply.

  ‘I’m good, I’m good.’

  ‘We’ve been bad twins though right, has it actually been a month?’

  ‘Something like that. The beauty of brotherhood though, you know you’re destined to see each other, however long it takes.’ Frank stated.

  ‘I’ll get the coffees. You find the seats.’ Indy insisted, knowing Frank’s preferred style of coffee.

  Talking like no time had passed at all, Indy felt both guilt and relief. His mirror image seemed excited to see him. He knew deep down that he had gone too far with Hades. Eva and Frank were the people that had paid the most for his distracted mind. It was time to call it a day. ‘When do I get to see this new apartment then? You kept that pretty hush-hush. I’ll admit I didn’t want to disturb you during the whole insurance claim debacle. I know that was a knockout punch.’

  ‘Yeah it was, but you know, new beginnings and all that. Come over whenever bro.’ Frank replied, ‘So how is Eva? Or have you drove her off with all your bi-po moments?’

  ‘She’s a clinger.’ Indy replied, more endearing than he would have anyone believe.

  ‘And how’s John doing?’ Frank asked.

  ‘He’s around. I don’t know what he’s up to if I’m honest. I thought he was here for Grace, but even then I don’t know where he goes. I get the feeling he’s keeping a few secrets.’ Indy confessed as Frank nodded acknowledging, an awareness in his eyes. He looked at his coffee for a moment pondering his next sentence. Indy noticed the contemplation, for he shared the introverted trait.

  ‘Indy, I want you to be careful of John. I know it’s not right for me to say that since I’ve not been around, but we’re twins, and that’s more than blood. Just be careful.’ Frank said sincerely. It hit Indy right in the gut. Frank wasn’t asking, he wasn’t even telling. He was strangely pleading.

  ‘Okay Frank, I will. You should see him soon though.’

  ‘He’s an unnecessary disruption.’

  ‘A disruption? That might be the nicest label he’s ever received.’

  ‘Well. Today, there are far more colourful characters in the city.’ Frank stated, perhaps referring to the vigilante.

  ‘Indeed, nice suit by the way.’ Indy replied. Appreciating that not everyone could pull off burgundy like Frank managed to. ‘And I assume by colourful characters, you mean Hades?’

  ‘Ha, no.’ Frank laughed, dismissing the entity. ‘Some guy wants to walk around in a mask, telling the world how it should be, more power to him. I’ve got nothing but time for that kind of audacity.’

  ‘Fair enough. So...’ Indy leaned in with a brotherly grin, ‘what have you been up to Frank? I’m ready to be impressed.’ He queried. Hoping to find out information and ideally, clear his brother of any controversy, John no-doubt suspected him of. Frank smiled back inscrutable.

  ‘Ventures. You know me, Indy. Nothing too ridiculous.’

  ‘Drugs?’

  ‘Nothing illegal brother. You can put your prefect badge back on.’ Frank jibed and winked as Indy looked on with a smile, leaning back in his cushioned chair. Frank’s phone vibrated, and Indy scanned its interface.

  READY, it read.

  Frank caught his twin’s scan and picked up his phone. ‘Listen, I feel terrible about this, but I got to run. I forgot I have a meeting’.

  ‘Oh no, really?’ Indy replied genuinely disappointed.

  ‘No excuses though, we’ll do this again later in
the week. Wednesday. Cool?’

  ‘Sounds good’ Indy replied standing up. The pair exited, giving the barista their ceremonial twin smiles.

  Indy wrapped his coat tight around his person as Frank buttoned up his suede blazer. Catching his approaching ride in his peripheral.

  ‘This is my ride. Can I give you a lift?’ he insisted.

  ‘Nah I’m meeting Eva in a bit down the road. Stay out of trouble okay dude.’ Indy said, matching Frank’s earlier sincerity.

  ‘Always bud.’ he replied, closing in for another fierce bear hug.

  Watching Frank climb into his luxurious ride, Indy couldn’t help but grin in slight awe. While he didn’t agree entirely with his decisions, nor share his moral compass. Frank out of the two, seemed far more fulfilled. More driven in his conquests. Conquests that excluded stalking strangers while wearing three pairs of shin-pads.

  Sure Frank dabbled with narcotics, but it wasn’t like Kane. Indy told himself. Frank wasn’t out to hurt others. Frank had a morality, just like Indy.

  Seeing a gap between cars on the busy road, he jaywalked to the other side, walking away from the coffeehouse. With every step, he felt more resolute that he would see less and less of Hades. It was time to embrace the more positive aspects of his life. Eva. His family. For once in a long time, he was genuinely hopeful.

  Letting himself relax. He reached for his earphones, only to jolt at a thunderous sound ruptured from behind him. The roof of a building behind the coffee house fractured and launched itself into the air. Fire jetted in every direction from within inside its shattering walls.

  Thrusting shards of concrete flew into shops, cars, and pedestrians. Indy felt the force of the blast behind him, sending him to the ground with a bullish thud. Brownish, grey smoke filled the street. Obscuring all viewpoints with dirt both falling from and resting in the air.

  Indy, delirious, turned in every direction, hearing screams from all sides. He felt his heartbeat rise and rise, an adrenaline surge like never before.

  The screams of unknown innocents increased in frequency as the smog thickened.

  He was now truly terrified.

  Hovering in the haze, he found a shop window to his left and stuck by it, reaching for his phone. Every type of emergency service could be heard speeding to the locale. Through the beige, filthy clouds of dirt, he could see people holding one another. Blood gushing from their skin. He moved from the window towards the hurting crowd.

  On approach, a second thunderous boom erupted, with heat and dirt barging through the haze. Sending all including Indy back into a retreat. Darting behind a car, he coughed violently. Hearing the sound of a large building structure collapse somewhere un-viewable. He sat up against the car, noticing blood on his hands, for once unsure if it was his own.

  An idea arrived in his head. Piercing his lungs, punching him in the stomach, crippling all his senses. Was this Goldmolar? Was this retribution?

  Indy felt his knees weaken as he reached the road leading up to the Old Market. He had run a solid three miles and was out of breath. The adrenaline rush that sent him fleeing from the carnage had slowly worn off.

  With no patience for the front door this time, he threw his shoulder into it, sending it forward a foot. John and Red sat together in the middle of the pub, watching the events unfold on the television.

  ‘What the hell is happening?’ Indy asked.

  ‘I would say Hell was accurate.’ Red replied as John watched on taciturn.

  ‘Did we do this? Is this Kane? Molar?’ Indy wondered.

  ‘Kane’s mumbling basic syllables in a hospital thanks to you.’ John replied.

  ‘What about your bestie slash recent abductor then?’ Indy prompted, referring to Goldmolar.

  ‘Possibly, it’s certainly his recipe. But Molar’s blunt and narrow-minded. This looks orchestrated, definitive. There have been two other explosions west side of the city.’ John informed.

  ‘I heard them as I jogged back.’ Indy noted.

  ‘Someone’s making a statement.’ Red explained. Indy made his way to the bar and grabbed a shot glass, filling it with the nearest reachable liquor. Finishing the drink. He looked towards the floor of the main bar, where the basement door rather randomly rested open. Approaching it, he could hear strange, rhythmic sounds of an organ playing. John studied his brother’s enclosing movement. A warm light glowed from inside as the organ music suddenly crescendoed into a series of drums.

  ‘Is that, The Who?’ Indy asked, as both John and Red turned to each other before making their way to his position. John readied his speech.

  ‘What I saw from you at Kane’s. What I see behind me on the television. This is just the beginning Indy. I told you there were people out there worse than him. If you’re going to do this, you’re going to need all the help you can get.’ John explained, justified in a decision he had made the night Kane was incapacitated.

  The music blasted into a crashing instrumental, and the three boys descended into the cellar. Indy led the way, seeing a man huddled deep into the corner, surrounded by various tools and materials. The visual was very different to the cellar he remembered, for one, it wasn’t a pub cellar anymore, it was a workshop.

  Red’s father Felix turned to see his visitors arrive. Realising the guest of honour was amongst them. Shutting off the radio, still seated, he wheeled his chair into the centre of the space.

  ‘Hello Indy.’ he greeted as his guest surveyed the environment. There were four or five separate workstations. Each with soldering irons and small material components. Either metal or textile in form.

  Indy turned to the old man who sat endearing and patient on his stall. Rubbing his rough, callously mitts together.

  ‘Felix... what is this?’ Indy said, a mix of both approval and resistance in his tenor.

  ‘I believe they call this, an armoury.’ Felix jested opening his hands out in presentation mode. Indy struggled to fathom the amount of work Felix had put in, nor the danger he would be in if others knew.

  ‘Red, this is so dangerous, how could you call him in without speaking to me?’ Indy argued only to be cut short.

  ‘I invited him.’ John interjected, ‘I asked Red to do it as a favour.’

  ‘What?’ Indy stood flummoxed.

  ‘If you’re going on this crusade, then, believe me, you’re going to step in puddles that are in actuality abysses. You’re going to need allies.’ John argued. Felix saw the rising tension between the brothers.

  ‘Son. I didn’t watch the news this morning. I even changed the radio station the moment I heard the first bomb go off. Do you know why?’ he asked the young vigilante.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’ve seen this city burn to the ground more than once. It’s a revolution. And I mean that in the engineering sense of the word. A continuous, designed loop. That has occurred for decades because no one element or factor has deterred it. When I saw that picture of Kane, broken and defeated on the front page of the local paper. The word Hades written across him. I knew that revolution, that recycled mediocrity of hurt and power, could maybe, just maybe, end.’ Felix sermonised, leaving the younger generation around him speechless. ‘That is why, to put it simply, I’ve built you some cool shit.’ he concluded.

  Indy turned to his co-conspirators, still speechless. He then neared the vicinity of two black gloves resting on a worktop. Made of a rubbery neoprene weave. They were far more indulgent than the pair he had crafted previously. Picking one up, he felt its smooth surface before arriving at a small slightly indented button on the left side of the right fore-finger.

  ‘What’s this?’ he asked causing Felix to smile.

  ‘Maybe I should clear the shelves first.’ he joked, reminding Indy of his past mishap. ‘I’ll show you.’ he informed, putting the glove on his own hand. ‘Word on the street is that Hades likes to electrocute men with his fists. So the gloves are built with an electrified lining that stems from the wrist and covers the knuckles.’
/>   ‘And the button turns the current on?’ Indy guessed, causing Felix to smile, excited by his own work.

  ‘No. The current always flows, and it amplifies when you clench your fist. But this button here. Well, it does this...’ he demonstrated, holding his hand up, fingers spread with his thumb pressed down on the button. He aimed the palm of his gloved hand at a metal wrench. The tool flew off the table and landed into Felix’s grasp like a ball to a baseball mitt.

  ‘Fuck. Off.’ Indy slowly sounded.

  ‘Indeed, the right-hand glove, and I’m told you’re a rightie, has an active electromagnetic component in the palm. It can pull about a kilo of metal to your hand. Annoyingly though, it absorbs most of the glove’s electricity, disabling the taser. I’m not sure yet how to rectify it.’ Felix confessed as Indy started to snigger at the supposed issue.

  ‘You’ve turned me into Obi-Wan Kenobi.’ He insisted with schoolboy enthusiasm. Felix looked at him first with admiration and then an air of fret.

  ‘You know when I was your age. We idolised the city’s villains, the gangsters, the businessmen. They were the charismatic characters that made things happen. Now look at it. How wrong I was. How wrong your father was.’ Felix muttered, causing Indy to appreciate the seriousness of the scenario once more. ‘Imagine our surprise, when a genuine hero comes along. An actual good guy, with a small arsenal to support his defiance. When you made that suit Indy, well it’s something only a loon or a truly good man would do.’ Felix propounded. John watched from a distance, realising the hope and fears of that very fact.

  ‘I’m not a hero Felix. I’m just a guy in some thermals.’ Indy insisted. Felix grinned a third time and made his way to a large flip-board-like stand that faced away from them all.

  ‘Oscar Wilde once said, give a man a mask, and he will show his true face. I say give a man a suit, and we’ll see his true meaning.’ Felix explained, turning the stand around to reveal a new suit for both Indy and Hades. Though his lips were closed, Indy felt as if his lower jaw had dropped. It was arguably the single greatest late Christmas present he had ever received.

  The same genetic code of the original suit but with clear innovation. It felt designed by a master artisan with substantial attention to detail. Opposed to the work of a manic depressive with an impatient goal. Cosmetically stunning. The matte black surface had a pearlescent treatment to it that made every anatomic feature shine with a slight purple shimmer. The serrations in the suit were for both flexibility and to portray muscle fibres. It looked organic and yet mechanised. A weapon and a brand. It was a masterpiece.