Bramley pulled out a packet of unfiltered Turkish cigarettes and lit one.
Fucking Greystone and his apes. How could it all go wrong? What kind of world do we live in where you can have the devil on your side and still not prevail?
Bramley had no intention of staying around in London to find out. He had contacts in South America and enough money squirreled away to live a quiet anonymous existence away from any accountability. There were enough young beautiful men in Argentina to keep him occupied. Yes, it would all be fine.
Bramley turned to slump down on his sofa and await the driver arriving to take him to the airport. Then he noticed something odd sitting on the coffee table. He furrowed his brow.
“Fucking housekeeper, always putting flowers everywhere around the house like we were all at a fucking funeral. What is that? And where’s my bloody drink?”
Bramley took a step closer and bent down to peer at the plant. Was it a plant? No. No it was one of those little Japanese things. What were they?
Bonsai tree.
Bramley straightened up in shock just as the man stepped out of the shadows by the curtains. He held a pistol and it was pointed at Bramley. In his other hand was a full martini glass.
“Good evening Lord Bramley. I see you got my housewarming present.”
Bramley took a step back. He considered shouting out for help but when he saw the steel look in Greystone’s eyes he thought better.
“Colonel. I always meant to have you round the house for drinks.”
“I’m picky about who I drink with. Sit on your arse.”
Bramley very slowly sat on his leather sofa in front of the little tree. He nervously took a drag of his cigarette and offered the tin to Greystone.
“Smoke?”
Greystone sat down opposite him and sipped the martini.
“Delicious.”
He reached across the table and took a cigarette.
“Why not. Old men like us can afford a few bad habits, eh?”
Bramley smiled and relaxed a little in the chair.
“Of course we can. Life isn’t about denial Greystone. Never understood your stoicism. If we take our time perhaps we’ll both die of lung disease.”
Greystone smiled.
“Perhaps.”
Bramley started to feel his confidence rise. He was master politician. He could talk his way out of this. This old grunt was no match for him.
“I understand your indignation, Colonel. But I operate at a very high level. I play the big tables. If you could just take a step back and see this with a God’s eye perspective.”
Greystone took another sip of martini.
“I see your bags are packed. Planning a trip?”
Bramley blew out a trail of pungent smoke.
“Yes, until all this dies down. I was hoping to save the British government a bit of scandal. I’m sure you would as well.”
Greystone nodded.
“I would. But there is another way to save the country the scandal of a traitor. The more traditional traitor’s way.”
Greystone placed the handgun carefully on the table between them.
Bramley’s eyes glanced nervously down at it then back up to fix on Greystone’s.
“You can’t mean…I’m not the sort, Colonel.”
“Self-preservation at all costs eh?”
Bramley nodded. Greystone drained the last of the martini. “You know the alternative? Life imprisonment.”
Bramley sat back a little in his armchair. His old smug grin was slowly creeping back.
“Oh, prison isn’t that uncomfortable a punishment for people of my class. With enough money and connections it can become a token experience.”
Greystone smiled at him and fixed his gaze for a long moment.
“Depends on the prison I guess. Do you have a light?”
Bramley brought a zippo out of his coat. Greystone leaned in across the table. Bramley did the same. The lighter flickered into life. Bramley’s hand slowly crept to the pistol on the table.
Suddenly Greystone reached out and grabbed both of Bramley’s wrists in a grip of steel.
“What are you doing man?”
Greystone grinned at him.
“Sending you to jail, Lord Bramley.”
Greystone forced Bramley’s hands down onto the trunk of the potted bonsai tree.
His skin instantly began to turn into bark as the tiny World Tree absorbed him. Bramley looked down in horror as the condition crept up his arms.
“What’s happening to me?”
Greystone let go and stood up, puffing on his cigarette.
“Something we recovered from Marksley Willows. Do you know what an oubliette is Lord Bramley? It’s a tiny little World Tree that only leads to one place. A sealed prison cell in the Unseelie realm. I’m sure they will be very glad to have you and hear about your failure to bring back their queen.”
Bramley tried to scream but the bark had reached his mouth. Suddenly his entire form became fluid and was sucked into the little knothole in the tree. Greystone stood there for a few moments smoking his cigarette and then walked round to the sofa and sat down.
He observed the little world tree as he smoked. Greystone was particularly fascinated by the terrified roving eye that stared out at him from the small hole in its trunk. He smiled.
“I wonder how far your money and connections are going to get you in there.”
When he was finished, Greystone pulled out a pair of thick gardening gloves, slid them over his hands. Then he picked up the bonsai and walked to the front door. The maid was standing there, looking a little confused.
“Lord Bramley?”
Greystone smiled at her.
“He’s not coming back. This place will be swarming with press come morning. There’s a suitcase upstairs containing three million in cash. If I were you I’d split it amongst the staff and skedaddle.”
Greystone began to whistle as he left. He considered hailing a cab to take him back to Debruler’s. Then he noticed the vintage Daimler parked outside the house. The keys dangled in the ignition.
Waste not….
33
Usher leaned into the corner as his motorcycle sped along the lonely Highland roads.
Purple and pink clouds drifted across the sky above the mountains that rose in the distance. Fir trees carpeted the lowlands and rose up to the foothills. A fine drizzle streaked down to the east and mottled patches of sunlight dappled the green land that rolled below them.
“Have you ever been here before?”
Gina leaned in and wrapped her arms tighter around Usher’s waist.
“No. It’s beautiful. Reminds me of home.”
A herd of red deer looked up in unison as they heard the roar of the motorcycle and then skittered off across the glen.
Usher rounded the bend and passed a tourist viewpoint. Several cars were parked and families were out walking. A roadside coffee house and highland gift shop was nestled on other side of the road. A couple of tour buses were parked outside it and a huddle of Japanese vacationers were streaming out taking photographs of everything they saw.
Gina could smell freshly baked scones and hot coffee as they passed.
Usher turned his head.
“We’ll stop on the way back.”
Another couple of miles down the road they pulled in past a small hamlet. A few old cottages were scattered along the road, a tiny village post office cum grocery shop and an even smaller pub. The only building of any significance was an old crumbling parish church, set back along a wooded path.
Usher parked the motorcycle and together he walked with Gina. The path was overgrown and seldom used but the sunlight streaming in golden columns through the trees gave it a magical quality.
Gina squeezed Usher’s hand.
“This place is beautiful. Sort of place you’d expect to find fairies hiding.”
Usher raised an eyebrow as he took in the mystical path.
“Well if there i
s I have a Glock.”
Gina laughed.
“You’re trying to re-adapt to normal life remember. Not everything is a threat to be eliminated.”
“That is going to take a while to adapt to Gina. But I’m trying.”
Gina pointed to a little glade of fungi and shrubs just off the path.
“So you’re saying if there was an itsy bitsy cute little fairy sitting on a mushroom over there, minding its own business and weaving some straw into a little fairy hat, you’d-”
Usher allowed a sly grin.
“I’d blow it off its mushroom. No hesitation.”
“That’s cold, soldier.”
“Seen more faeries than you have. Cute ones are the worst.”
They strolled on down the path as the birds sang in the trees above them. There was a cold breeze and they were both grateful for the warmth of their biker leathers.
A creaking iron gate lay at the end of the path and they walked into the churchyard. There was no one else about.
Behind the chapel was a small cemetery. Gina looked about them as they walked.
“Why here Usher? So far from everything.”
Usher straightened a bunch of fading flowers by one of the graves as they passed.
“It’s our secret place. Off the books. We wanted somewhere beautiful and peaceful we could come for a moment of quiet reflection. Moments of quiet are not something we come by very often in our game.”
Gina cocked her head as she studied him.
“It’s more than that though. This place has meaning to you.”
Usher gazed around at the peaceful little churchyard as the birds sang around them.
“It’s where my wife was born.”
Usher stood before a small well maintained silver-grey gravestone.
Marie Usher cherished wife and mother
Seth Usher Beloved son
Usher knelt down and placed a hand on the cold stone.
He felt the emotion rise and took a few long deep breaths of cold highland air.
I miss you both so much. I will never stop fighting in your name. I have done everything I can every single day since they took you, to make up for that night. I have fought so hard to stop the same thing happening to anyone else.
You’re my badge of honour and my rallying cry.
But I can’t go on every day just hating and killing. I need to live sometimes too.
So I have to say goodbye.
Usher bowed his head and kissed the gravestone.
I love you both.
Usher stood up and for once he did not hold back the tears that threatened. He looked to the gravestone next to his family’s and gave a wistful smile.
Christi Swanson
A life of service to her country and her world
“And you. At ease.”
Then Usher took Ariel’s glasses from his pocket and laid them gently on top of the gravestone.
And you, nerd. Come back to us.
Gina put a gentle hand on Usher’s shoulder.
“Thom, do you want some time alone?”
Usher felt his muscles relax at her touch. He thought of the coffee shop a couple of miles back and found that he was craving a strong cup and maybe a scone.
“No. Been on my own long enough. You hungry?”
“Always.”
“Come on then. My treat.”
At the end of the path they straddled the motorcycle and Usher sparked up the engine. Birds scattered from the trees as it roared to life.
As he rolled the bike out towards the road, Gina tapped Usher on the shoulder.
“Hey Thom, we better get moving. Look, there’s heavy rain coming in over that hill.”
Usher slid into gear and took off down the hill.
He gave her a smile.
“Up here, it’s always either raining, or on the way. Don’t worry. We’ll outrun it.”
Usher revved the bike and they sped off down the road in search of hot coffee.
We’ll outrun it for as long as we can.
34
2 weeks later.
Oregon
Fire chief Mike Brennen waved his team back.
“Rogers. Get your men out of there.”
The fire fighter gestured to his men and they moved back from the forest blaze.
“I’m pulling the trucks back sir. That barn is going to go up any minute now.”
Rogers surveyed the burning woods. He had fought many forest fires in his time but this was one of the worst, and it was heading for town if they didn’t stop it soon.
Brennen shielded his soot blackened face from the heat.
“Do we have an ETA on the other team arriving? We could do with some fresh bodies here, my men are exhausted.”
“They’ll be here in about twenty minutes sir. Two helicopters arriving as well.”
“Good. Because if this thing gets to town we won’t be able to contain it.”
“Any more civilians in there?”
Rogers shook his head.
“We got a few out in the last hour. A few campers and a couple of guys out hunting. The state troopers picked up a school trip a few miles downriver. No one else. The way this section is burning, there’s not a chance in hell that anyone is still alive in there.”
A firefighter tapped Brennen on the elbow.
“Boss.”
Brennen’s gaze followed and he found himself looking at a slim man walking out of the burning forest. He carried something in his arms. It looked like a young boy.
“…what the hell…”
The man seemed unperturbed by the flames and walked over glowing embers like an Indian fakir. Brennen shouted out.
“Get some men over there! Paramedics!”
“We got a survivor over here! He’s trapped and looks like he has a casualty with him. Get some hoses over here now!”
“Move back move back! Christ we’re not going to get in there in time Mike.”
“Get me an axe, I’ll go in myself.”
“Don’t be crazy Mike, that’s suicide, that’s not how we do things.”
“He had a kid in his arms Steve, if we wait for the hoses they’re dead and you know it.”
“Wait…Mike wait! Look.”
To their amazement the flames seemed to be subsiding in a narrow corridor all around the walking man. Cool frosty air began to blow towards them.
“What’s…what’s doing that? That doesn’t make any kind of sense.”
“I don’t know but you’re seeing it too, right?”
Brennen ran forward and reached out to support the man as he approached them.
“Hey buddy, this way. We got you. Are you hurt? There’s an ambulance waiting over here for you. This way.”
The young man had a blackened face and torn clothing, but he did not seem harmed. He seemed confused.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Pal, you gotta be hurting somewhere, you just walked straight through about twenty metres of flames.”
The young man looked down at his black suit and tattered black overcoat.
“No I…I don’t think I’m injured.”
“Let’s get you and your friend checked out. Who’s the kid? Is he yours?”
The man looked at the boy in his arms with total befuddlement.
“I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea.”
“Well where did you come from? Were you out hunting in the woods?”
“I was hunting something. I don’t remember what. Maybe something was hunting me.”
Brennen ushered the pair over towards the waiting ambulances.
“Well there are bears and such in those woods. I think you’re in a state of shock sir, you’ve been through a very traumatic experience in a very dangerous place.”
“Yes. Yes I have. But I’m back now.”
“Let these guys take a look at you and give you some oxygen, they’re paramedics.”
“My breathing is fine.”
“OK we’re gonna put
the kid on a stretcher over here, we’re gonna look after him.”
“Sure.”
A tall blonde man approached and put a hand gently on the survivor’s arm.
“Sir my name’s Jim I’m a paramedic. You say you’re not injured but do you mind if we take a look, just to make sure you’re ok?”
“Go ahead.”
The paramedic’s carefully removed the man’s tattered black over coat and faded shirt. The man stood passively as they worked, staring up at the smoke filled sky.
“Holy shit, kid, you a vet?”
“A veterinarian? No.”
“No, a war veteran? Were you in Afghanistan sir?”
“I might have been there once. I don’t really remember.”
“Do you know how you got these scars? You have multiple old injuries here sir.”
“I don’t recall getting any of those, sorry. I’m not in any pain.”
“Well from the looks of it it’s probably a good thing you don’t remember any of these wounds sir. Your body’s a testament to a particularly adventurous life.”
Rogers beckoned his chief over out of earshot.
“Mike can we get in touch with the FBI via the sheriff’s department? There’s something not right with this guy and some of those scars look self-inflicted. Most are injuries but a few look like scarification tattoos. The symbols look like something from a Dan Brown book. What if this guy is in some kind of crazy cult out in the woods? The kid could be kidnapped or something.”
“Yeah, I’m on it. Keep him secured in the meantime but don’t alarm him. I don’t want to piss someone off that can walk through fire unscathed.”
“I hear that. Let’s get all these vehicles moved back and get the kid to hospital.”
In the ambulance, the paramedic was checking the semi-conscious boy for burns. He could find none.
“Hey kid. How you feeling? You’re lucky to have made it out of there.”
The boy looked up at him with a slight smile.
“I know. I’ve been trying to escape that place for so long.”
“Jeez kid, how long were you in those woods for?”
“I don’t fully remember.”
“You got a name? Your friend doesn’t seem to remember who he is.”
The Last Line Series One Page 83