by J J Cooper
Jay could tell in an instant something was wrong. Right size, right uniform, but the picture was wrong. People take their own life with a gunshot to the temple or with the barrel in their throat – not shooting their face at a distance. Which is what it looked like on the screen.
‘You seeing this, Jay?’ Ed asked through his microphone.
‘Yep, it’s not right.’
‘You know him best unfortunately, son. Until I get you down here for a closer look, what do you think? Is it Underwood?’
A voice from behind Jay, Bill and Simpson said, ‘No it’s not.’
FIFTY-ONE
Underwood stood a couple of metres away. Bulletproof vest, cap and all the gear the response force were wearing. He’d been prepared. Service pistol in hand and pointed towards Jay.
‘This is a surprising bonus, Ryan. I had every intention of walking away. Nothing like sweet revenge. No time for last requests, arsehole. See you in hell.’
Simpson was the first to react. As Jay dropped to the ground, Simpson went forward for the gun. Too much ground to cover, and he would have known it. The bullet aimed at Jay hit Simpson high in the chest. His momentum, though, kept him hurtling at Underwood. Both men went down hard.
Underwood had plenty of adrenalin of his own, and a gun still in hand. He rolled Simpson off before Bill and Jay could get to their feet. Underwood jumped to his feet, aimed and was shot in the head before he could pull the trigger.
Bill hit the ground again as the bullet that tore through Underwood’s head ricocheted and shot through the side panel of the Monaro.
For a reason unknown to Jay, he didn’t flinch at the gunshot. Instinct saw him track the angle of the shot. There was nobody immediately to the rear who looked a threat – just those who had sought sanctuary within the barracks now, like a receding tsunami, making haste back towards the site of the original gunfire.
Over the guard shack, and across the main street, the LA Hotel stood tall on the corner of the block. The balcony provided an excellent view of both the barracks and down Caxton Street. The balcony was empty bar one figure making a hasty exit. Jay knew the walk. Toni paused for a split second at the doorway, like she was contemplating looking back. She didn’t turn. Toni had vanished again. Jay knew the mass of police on the ground would turn their attention soon enough to the hotel, but not before Toni had slipped away.
‘Jay! Jay!’ Ed Ryan called over his microphone.
Jay passed the screen to Bill, who was on his knees and appeared in shock, mainly at the damage to the Monaro. He quickly composed himself and started relaying information to Ed while Jay hobbled over to Simpson.
Simpson had rolled onto his back and held a hand over a wound that was high on the right of his chest, just below the shoulder.
‘How you doing, mate?’ Jay asked as he bent down.
Simpson smiled through a grimace and said, ‘Gonna have to rethink that option of joining your agency, mate. Getting shot ain’t that glamorous after all.’
‘The recovery is tough, but the scars in the end is what it’s all about.’
Simpson started a chuckle that turned into a cough.
Jay shook his head to indicate for him not to say anything. He turned to Bill and called out, ‘Bill, can you grab the copper medic?’
Bill pointed beyond Jay and said, ‘On his way.’
Jay turned as the police paramedic approached. After a couple more jibes towards Simpson, he let the paramedic get on with the job and rejoined Bill at the Monaro.
A sad sight faced Jay. Not the fact a man had lost his life, nor another being shot – the sad sight was Bill gently caressing the bullet hole in the driver’s side door of the Monaro.
Bill must have sensed Jay’s approach. ‘Not a word, boy.’
‘Wouldn’t dare.’
Jay mused about Bill and his care for the Monaro and looked around the area as the chaos dissipated, or at least dropped a couple of notches. Now civilians didn’t really know whether to come towards or away from the barracks. It seemed someone must have given the direction to head into the city because, as the emergency services drifted in, civilians wandered, at pace, out of the area.
Ed Ryan led a few of the specialist police through the gates and towards Jay. His pace lightened a little as he noticed Jay leaning against the damaged Monaro. It took him a moment to catch his breath before he asked, ‘What happened?’
Jay filled in the blanks, including his thoughts that Toni was Underwood’s shooter.
Ed looked towards Underwood. ‘I don’t suppose he mentioned where the rest of the anthrax was before your girlfriend killed him?’
‘No, and no. She’s not my girlfriend.’
The police had immediately gone into crime-scene mode and had started cordoning off the area. One officer had donned latex gloves and was searching Underwood. He’d retrieved and bagged a mobile phone and was in the process of going through the contents of the dead man’s wallet.
Jay, Ed and Bill watched the process.
Jay asked his father, ‘Initial thoughts?’
‘You broke his jaw – probably know him better than the rest of us at this stage.’
After a moment of thought, Jay shuffled on his crutches, shook his head and said, ‘Small fry. I’d say working for Carter, saw dollar signs and got greedy. That’d only work though if he’s set to profit somehow from these gadgets that are about to hit the market.’
‘Or he was working for the person set to make the most now from the gadgets,’ Ed said.
‘Yep. So I guess this isn’t over yet. If Underwood was working for someone, then there’s a good chance the remaining anthrax is with that person.’
Ed stared at Underwood and gave a slow nod. He checked his watch, then turned to Jay. ‘Let me deal with it. I’ll have the Police Commissioners go over Underwood and Carter’s affairs as a priority, then we’ll meet at the farm. I’d like to have you there too. I’m calling everyone back there to finally sort out this mess. You think you’re up to it?’
‘Depends how long they have me here answering questions.’
‘That’s not going to happen. I’ll have someone drive you back to my place. Get cleaned up then head to the hospital to get that leg checked out. Head up to the farm when you can.’
Jay nodded and slid in beside Bill while Ed made a call. Bill shook his head and held a finger in the air – a warning not to mention the bullet hole in the Monaro.
Jay caught the last bit of the phone conversation from his father. ‘He’s on his way. Keep in touch.’ He closed the phone and placed it back in his pocket before saying to Jay, ‘There’s a police car waiting for you just up the road, outside of the cordon. It’ll be a bit of a hobble, but I’m sure you’ll manage.’
Jay frowned. ‘Can’t he swing in and pick me up?’
‘She. And it’s a bit crazy in here. Exercise will do you good.’
Jay wasn’t sure what to make of the statement. His father knew what he’d been through, and yet he wanted him to hobble up the road for a lift back to his house. He shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’
Ed stepped forward and embraced his son. ‘If you don’t make it in the morning, son, I’ll understand.’
The embrace seemed to last a little too long. Maybe a sign of Ed just glad Jay had made it through the ordeal, but Jay wasn’t convinced that was it. The two men were too close for Jay not to recognise when something was astray. As the men let go, Jay studied his father’s eyes. There was a hint of sadness.
Ed gave the slightest shake of his head to indicate for Jay not to ask and then said, ‘No smoking in my house this time. The place stank for weeks after your last escapade there. And no using my bathroom to interrogate anyone again either.’
Jay smiled and held the gaze a little longer before Bill distracted him by holding out a hand for Jay to shake.
‘You’ve done well again, Jay,’ Bill said.
Jay shook Bill’s hand. At the same time, Ed had turned and walked towards Underwood. ‘What w
as that all about?’ Jay asked.
‘You just need to know that he loves you, Jay, and knows that you’ll make the right decision for the right reasons. And he’ll always support the choices you make.’
‘There’s more cryptic clues to decipher than The Da Vinci Code with you two. What’s going on?’
Bill grinned. ‘You’ll figure it out.’ He turned to join Ed without another word.
Jay leaned on his crutches for a minute or so, watching his father and Bill talk with the local police. Neither man turned to Jay at any stage. It was like they’d said their farewells and were now moving on with life. It left Jay perplexed. He pondered the conversation as he slowly made his way out of the barracks and up the main street.
As he turned a corner, he could see a lone police car parked on the side of the road. A hand dangled from the driver’s door. The police officer made no move to get out of the car, but must have seen Jay in the side mirror because the hand waved in a motion for Jay to come over to the car.
The street seemed desolate compared to the activity less than a hundred metres away. Jay didn’t bother trying the passenger-side front door as he wanted to stretch out with his leg on the back seat. He tried to sneak a glance at the driver, but every time he checked a mirror or window on his slow hobble, it seemed the driver was positioned in a way to cover their face. He threw the crutches on the rear floor of the police car and pulled himself inside. As he closed the door he said, ‘Hello, I’m Jay Ryan. I think my father has been in touch.’
A standard cage at the rear of the front seats separated them. There was a nod from the police officer, before she removed her cap, turned and smiled through the cage at Jay.
‘My place or yours?’ Toni asked.
FIFTY-TWO
Toni beamed a smile and said, ‘Nice to see you again, Jay.’
Jay closed his eyes as more pieces to the puzzle fell into place. He opened his eyes. ‘I’ll assume you’re not about to drive me to my death.’
It seemed impossible, but Toni’s smile grew. ‘I think it’s safe to say you can trust your father.’ She turned and kicked over the engine. ‘Your place, hey. There’s an esky at your feet. A little gift in there from me.’
A small blue cooler bag sat on the floor. Jay reached over and unzipped the lid. A six-pack of scotch and dry was surrounded by icepacks. He took out a can, popped it open and took a long swill. They had gone about five hundred metres, and were stopped at a set of traffic lights directly across from the famous Normanby Hotel, before Jay said, ‘Thank you – I think.’
‘Just enjoy the drink. I’ll explain it all at your father’s house.’
Jay knew not to bother with any questions just yet. Knew not to try to make sense of it all either. The scotch and dry was a stroke of genius from Toni. She knew exactly what he’d been through. It was like a soldier who had just been taken prisoner and going through the shock of capture. The prisoner would expect the worst thanks to Hollywood. A good interrogator would know that and build rapport through conversation and small comforts. Sometimes, as Toni had demonstrated, conversations come after the treats. Jay knew this yet the lure of a stiff drink was too much after what he’d been through. His father would never set him up to be ambushed. Toni was on the right side. So why not enjoy the treats.
Less than twenty-five minutes, and two-and-a-half cans later, Toni had pulled into Ed Ryan’s driveway. A house Jay’s father had built after retiring from NSIS six years earlier: before the scandal that brought down a government and saw Ed Ryan come out of retirement and take the reins as head of NSIS. Jay had been a regular at the house while working as an instructor at the Intelligence Training Centre in the Gold Coast hinterland. In fact, he’d spent most weekends at the house watching football with his father and the colourful neighbour, Bill, who boasted of being a former spy and spent most days lounging around in a tattered bathrobe at home taking care of his beloved German Shepherds. There was no greeting through the fence from the German Shepherds, as they’d been relocated to the country at Bill’s niece’s property in western Queensland. It seemed his new lifestyle didn’t allow the quality time they needed. Jay knew Bill spent every spare moment out west with them, though.
Jay didn’t ask where she’d got the house key from after they’d made their way up the front stairs and Toni had opened the door of his father’s house. She did allow Jay to enter first, though, and punch in the pin number for the security system. She even pretended to look away as he entered the number.
He hobbled on the crutches through the living room, up a couple of steps and headed for the bathroom, mumbling along the way that Toni should make herself at home and nodding towards the amenities.
He entered the bathroom, ran a hot bath and awkwardly stripped off. That was the easy part. His body was riddled with bruises and aches he hadn’t felt for a while. Most muscles gave a little scream as he lowered himself into the steaming bath and rested his busted ankle on the side of the tub. The hot water stung at the various cuts and abrasions, yet soothed at the same time. His eyes heavied as he rested his head against the cold edge of the tub.
A micro-sleep later, the door opened. Jay didn’t bother to cover up. He knew he was vulnerable, not because of his nakedness in front of a woman he’d called beautiful, but because the beautiful woman was also a calculating killer, manipulator, and still a mystery. For all he knew she could have turned on him there and then and ended his life with a sharp knife. In fact, with his lack of energy she could have done the job with a butter knife.
Toni carried in an ashtray, pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
‘My dad mentioned I shouldn’t be smoking in the house or interrogating in the bathroom.’
Toni was still wearing the police uniform, except she’d let her hair down and undone one too many buttons on her shirt. The way she placed a cigarette, tilted her head slightly, and flicked at the lighter all seemed suggestive, maybe seductive. ‘Did he mention if I could smoke?’
‘No.’
‘But he doesn’t want me to interrogate you?’
‘Nice try. You’re the assassin, I’m the interrogator. If that rule is to be broken, it’ll be by me.’
She took a long drag of the cigarette; the end crackled in the confined space as it burnt down a few millimetres. Toni turned it in her hand and held it for Jay while she blew a plume of smoke towards him. Seductively again. She gave the slightest roll of her tongue across her top lip before Jay accepted the cigarette and she lit her own.
As Jay dragged on his cigarette, the pain quickly disappeared and thoughts he didn’t want to have of Toni while lying naked in a bath in front of her, began. It is times like these that one’s schooling is important to remember, especially maths. Jay quickly avoided eye contact and began reciting the twelve times table in his head. Twelve ones are twelve, twelve twos are twenty-four, twelve threes are thirty-six ...
Toni blew another plume of smoke his way.
A tingling sensation in an inappropriate place commenced. The maths pace quickened. Twelve fours are forty-eight, twelve fives are sixty, twelve sixes are seventy-two. It wasn’t working. Jay didn’t dare look at Toni, but could feel her eyes on him. Twelve sevens are ... crap. What are twelve sevens? No hope.
He dropped his broken ankle into the bath. Hard enough to splash water over the edge of the tub and onto the tiled floor. Hard enough to thud on the ceramic bottom of the tub. Hard enough to shoot a searing pain through his leg that ran in a blink of an eye up his spine. Hard enough to sort out his dilemma.
The cigarette fell into the bath as Jay reached for his leg. He clenched his teeth together and an extended grunt escaped them.
Toni dropped her cigarette in the ashtray and quickly came to his aid. She knelt on the wet floor beside the tub and reached in to support under his ankle.
Jay attempted to push her hand away. He didn’t want a repeat performance.
A frown formed across Toni’s forehead. It seemed as though she was analysing the situation.
She looked from Jay’s broken ankle and into his eyes. She held the gaze for a moment before taking a sneak peak at his crotch. Just a quick look – like it was just a natural movement of the eyes from his face to his foot. But Jay knew better.
The knuckles on his hands whitened as Jay gripped hard on the edge of the tub. He slowly controlled his breathing.
Toni knelt on the tiles beside him. She was now looking deeply into his eyes. She leaned forward, both hands on the tub. Her head moved towards his.
FIFTY-THREE
Jay gulped in nervous anticipation. He gave a quick lick of his lips.
Toni stopped short, her head inches from his. She held the position, then gave a wicked grin. She bounced to her feet, grabbed a towel off the rack and said, ‘Better get you to the hospital and get patched up properly. Need a hand out of the tub?’ She looked again to his crotch.
Probably for the first since he was a child, Jay was genuinely embarrassed. He tore the towel from her hands and mumbled, ‘I’m fine.’
It took about twenty minutes for Jay to towel off, find some old clothes and struggle to get into them. The ankle was giving him plenty of grief. He managed to pull on a pair of cargo pants over the temporary bandaging. It wasn’t until he was putting on his boot that he realised his other was missing and that he’d left it in the ambulance. He checked the remaining boot and was relieved to find his credit card still there. At least he was only down one boot. As he was pulling on a T-shirt he wondered how long he’d need just the one boot for.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils as he entered the kitchen. He spied a cup sitting on the bench and then looked down into the lounge room. Toni was examining the citations on the wall.
‘They’re just bits of paper,’ Jay said as he moved to the bench.
‘It’s recognition of your work. Hardly just a bit of paper.’