‘Do you like playing games, Madeline?’
I could just make out the dark shadow of the man, standing the other side of the doorway. He wasn't moving, wary of entering the room.
‘Just trying to be sociable Arik, seeing as you're not.’
I glanced at the kettle, steam beginning to rise from the spout. I didn't have long until it would boil. It was a couple of metres away from me. I had to do something quickly.
It was Arik who made the first move.
A flash of green light lit up the doorway. Something hit the fridge next to me, sending a shower of sparks across me and the floor. There wasn't much of the fridge door left.
As he ran into the room I threw myself behind the short side of the rectangular island unit. Close to the floor I couldn't see Arik now. The man was heading for me, but on which side of the island? Right or left… a millisecond to make a life-saving decision.
I chose left. Arik chose the other side.
I scrambled frantically around the island on my hands and knees, like a child playing hide-and-seek. Now Arik was right next to the kettle. It boiled.
He fired again, into the island unit. It shattered into a thousand pieces. But I was behind him now, grabbing the kettle. He turned as he realised where his enemy was, fired again in his panic. The bolt of light went straight through the ceiling, sending a shower of plaster into the room.
The kettle in my hand hit Arik's face at high speed, its clear plastic jug shattering as I slammed it into him, freshly boiled water searing into his eyes. He screamed, slumped over in agony... face down on top of the gas hob built into the counter top.
Then my hand was around the back of his neck, holding him down. Iron pans hung from racking above the hob, I grabbed one and hit him over the head, just to make sure.
Not too hard though, I didn't want him out cold. That would end his suffering.
The man was screaming, blinded and in agony from the boiling water. And now he had the mother of all headaches to go with it. But I was far from finished.
‘What does it feel like having your face butchered, Arik?’ I cried out, hatred turning my voice hoarse.
He didn’t reply. He probably couldn’t. His hands were flailing around helplessly at his sides, he was in no state to fight back. And I'd heard his weapon fall to the floor. I couldn't see it in the dark, but Arik would never get to it again. I leant my face close to the ugly one I was still pressing into the hob.
‘But you know what, my friend? I still don't think you've suffered enough to know what Daisy must have felt.’
Slowly, deliberately, I turned a knob on the hob to full, heard the gas hissing through. Arik heard it too, his face still pressed firmly into the burner. He tried to break free, but the iron pan had done its job, and his feeble attempts to escape what was coming were futile.
I pressed the electronic ignition button, and as the burner flamed into life, made sure Arik knew exactly how Daisy felt, for a full minute before I pulled him away from the burner and threw him on the floor in disgust.
As the awful scent of burnt flesh filled the room, I knelt on his chest. He was almost unconscious, but not quite. Exactly how I wanted him. Slowly I pulled the cheese-cutter from my pocket.
Arik's face was a mess, what was left of it. In one way that was a bit disappointing, I’d wanted to look into the evil eyes as I finally took his life, but that wasn't going to happen now.
He didn't have eyes anymore.
I took my time looping the carbon fibre chord around his neck, hoping he had enough feeling left to know what was happening. Then I stood up, pressed a foot again onto one handle, holding it tight to the floor.
‘The fire Arik, that was from Daisy. This one is from me!’ I pulled the handle upwards as hard as I could, but as it sliced into the man's neck I decided it hadn't gone far enough.
‘And this one is from everyone else!’
A second time I wrenched the handle upwards. As I removed the cheese-cutter, there wasn't a lot keeping Arik's head attached to his body.
I found his weapon, a piece of alien technology spectacular in its sheer lack of size. A vaguely-gun shaped device, it fitted into the palm of my hand. I shook my head as I glanced at the fridge door that hardly existed anymore, amazed at the power in the tiny gun. Then it found its way into my pocket, and I headed back to the van.
‘He's a bit of a mess,’ I grinned as I jumped back in.
Coop smiled back. ‘He was always an ugly fucker anyway.’
‘You should see him now.’
Chapter 63
Zana
Ryland Cooper looked into the eyes of the woman sitting next to him as he spoke. They weren't dead eyes anymore; they had come alive with the demise of Arik.
‘You ready to finish the mission, Maddie?’
‘Yeah, I'm ready.’
She spoke firmly, sounded like she was sure of herself. But he was all too aware that while she was ready to put an end to things, how she was going to achieve closure was still up for debate.
He didn't envy her one bit.
They were sitting in the van, just around the corner from Zana's apartment. A short time ago her spotter had reported she'd given him the slip; five minutes ago Madeline had walked to the entrance of the foyer and pressed her buzzer.
There was no answer, the apartment was in darkness. She wasn't home.
While Madeline was away from the van he'd called the spotter back. The man was roaming around trying to relocate Red Mist. She was on foot, he didn't think she could be far away. Ryland Cooper told him to abort the search and go home. Then he'd phoned the cleaner, and said the last target was going to be late home, told him that particular mess could wait until the next morning.
Coop glanced to me as I jumped back into the van, said with a shrug, ‘Maybe we should come back later... she could be ages yet.’
‘No!’ I replied sharply. ‘I'm not leaving here until she's back. Anyway, the spotter could well pick her up again, and then we'll know.’
He nodded, and then lowered his head as he spoke quietly. ‘He won't find her, Maddie. I sent him home.’
‘Coop..?’
‘You got anywhere you can wait for her without being seen?’
‘Yeah, there's a covered alley just across from her drive. I can see the apartment easy enough from there.’
‘Then I'm going to leave you to it.’
Suddenly the nausea was my best friend again, I knew something wasn't right. ‘What's going on, Coop?’
‘No one's gonna interfere for the rest of the night, Maddie. You're on your own now, just you and Zana.’
‘I don't understand… thought you were here to make sure I obeyed company rules?’
‘Sometimes rules stink worse than horse-shit. But if I ain't here I don't know what you're getting up to, do I?’
‘While the cat's away, yeah?’
He leaned his arms on the top of the steering wheel, gazed out at the heavy rain bouncing off the asphalt around us. ‘You's got a massive decision to make Maddie, and despite your fake assertiveness I know you ain't made it yet. And the only way it's gonna get made is by you and Zana, together. Last thing you need is an asshole like me interfering.’
I smiled, knowing for sure now I'd got a friend. ‘You said if I walked away I wouldn't get very far.’
‘That's the risk you take, girl. But I know you ain't gonna walk away. Where you walk to is up for debate. Just know I got a goddam awful sinking feeling in my gut that if you don't take the right path, an awful lot of us are gonna suffer a fate worse than death. So you and Zana, you find the right road… for me, yeah?’
I held out a hand. ‘You're a good man, Coop.’
He laughed as he pushed it away, pulled me into him and hugged me tight. ‘Nah, I'm just one of the fortunate ones who can see further than the end of his fat nose!’
It was my turn to laugh. ‘That ability just might be your finest, Coop.’
‘I ain't gonna be sleeping tonight. Y
ou need anything, anything at all, call me you hear? Other than that you won't hear from me. Now fuck off and go do what you gotta do. I'm sick of the sight of you anyways!’
I stepped out into the rain. Just before I closed the van door I leaned back in. ‘Just one thing, Coop…’
‘And what might that be?’ he asked, knowing exactly what was coming.
‘Don't call me Maddie!’
Ryland Cooper watched as she disappeared from his view, a huge lump in his throat. He'd found a lot of respect for the girl who had been slam-dunked with more crap than is good for a body, and yet was still here to tell the tale.
The final chapter of the story was still to be written, but somehow he knew the woman he'd just put his ultimate trust in would write the words that mattered.
His heart was breaking for her, for the impossible decision she was forced to make. Impossible because whichever road she chose, someone was going to reach their journey's end in a very bad way.
He shook his head sadly, turned the ignition key, and drove away.
He had no idea if he would ever set eyes on Madeline deWinter again.
The Final Curtain
Act 1
The roll-up between my fingers fizzled and died, the thin brown liquorish paper soaked in seconds. Leaning out from the shelter of the covered alleyway wasn’t the best idea ever, but I had to see.
The rain from hell battered onto the black cap doing its best to protect my head, sounded like thunder in my ears. I glanced quickly around; a millisecond to confirm the brick-paved driveway leading to the swank apartment block fifty metres away was devoid of life.
Still there was no sign of her.
I ducked back into the shelter of the alley, threw the useless butt to the ground in disgust, and let frustration get the better of me by kicking the wall. It was all getting too much to take.
Nearly midnight.
Where the hell was she? She never stayed out this late, unless…
She must know. Maybe she'd tried to contact one of them, got no reply. Put two-and-two together, made four.
Maybe she wasn't coming home.
The griping fear I was getting all too familiar with tightened its grip on my stomach. I'd been so careful, so quick. None of them could have warned her, I'd not given them time.
Had I?
Illogical doubts began to creep in. I closed my eyes, rebooted the events of the day in my mind. Six of them, one after the other, all in the space of a few hours. I replayed each incident, every gruesome detail.
No. It wasn't possible.
If Zana thought she knew, she couldn't be certain.
And no one would ever find them, not now.
It hadn't been the best of days. The mission was almost done, just one last step to take. But somehow, this time it was different. The nasty taste of what I'd done still lingered, unpleasantly. That was illogical. Long ago I'd taught myself to be immune to emotions, so I thought. Maybe I wasn't such a good teacher.
Or a good pupil.
I turned, thumped the long-suffering wall this time, angry now at my own weakness. It hurt; I held my hand close to my face. It wouldn’t stop shaking.
Damn you Zana, why are you so late home? Her spotter had already reported she'd given him the slip, deliberately. It crossed my mind she was playing games, sitting in the little café around the corner, knowing I was waiting.
She would.
I looked out at the rain-drenched scene once more, across the perfectly laid brick driveway with its pseudo-Victorian streetlamps, to the elegant communal gardens that were immaculately kept but never used. I couldn’t stop it, my gaze drifted upwards, fixed onto the smoked glass windows of the top-floor apartment. Was she inside after all, sitting in the dark knowing I would come, pretending to be out? Teasing me to see through the deception?
That she wouldn't do.
Pretending anything wasn't in her psyche.
Once more I leant against the damp coldness of the concrete wall, began to wonder if Zana had gone for good after all. Three hours now I'd waited; fifteen cigarettes smoked nervously, plus a few swigs of something with a high alcohol content that had once filled the tiny flask in the breast pocket of my black jacket.
The flask that was now empty.
I never drank on duty. Tough... today I did.
Today was different.
Everything was different.
A sound, so familiar. Even through the rain it filled my ears. She was here, the clunk of high heels on the driveway unmistakable.
I flattened against the wall; knew it was pointless but it came naturally. Zana wouldn't need to see me, she'd know she wasn’t alone.
The figure passed across the alleyway entrance, filled my vision just for a second or two. And my heart began to thump like a piston engine. Leaving the shelter of the hiding place, I followed a short distance behind her, the soft soles of my trainers making no sound.
The girl walking quickly a few metres ahead didn’t look back. A short red cape shrouded her perfect body, the loose hood pulled over her head. Her toned calf muscles flexed alluringly as she walked, and the red shoes with impossibly-high heels clicked mesmerizingly through the sound of the rain.
Red.
She always wore red.
Zana reached the main entrance to the apartment block, pressed her finger into the reader, and the door slid aside. She paused, lowered her head slightly. Still she hadn't turned to look at me, standing motionless a short distance away. I waited for the words, knowing they would come.
They did.
'You coming in, Maddie… or are you just going to stand there like a stalker all night?'
‘Don't call me Maddie; you know I don't like it. Makes me sound like a teenage reality TV celebrity.’
I'd followed her silently across the foyer, stood next to her in the plush lift. She'd pressed the button for the sixth floor, not pulled back the hood. Still I hadn't seen her face. But I could feel her smile.
‘You should be pleased I shorten your name, people do that when they feel comfortable with someone.’
‘Are you comfortable now?’
‘More than you are.’
I couldn't answer her. Like so many times before when she'd verbally outwitted me, the words for a comeback weren't there.
No one else ever left me speechless like Zana did. Maybe because her words always hit the spot. Or more likely because she always saw the truth, even when I tried to hide it. So once more I said nothing; followed her along the expensively-carpeted hallway to the wide oak door of her apartment.
The background lighting that glowed from somewhere mysterious turned on to greet us as Zana kicked off the red heels, and headed straight to the blue-glass bar in one corner of the big open-plan room. I watched nervously as she slowly poured a little brandy into two glasses.
Somehow she always made me nervous.
Another thing no one else ever did.
The red satin cape shimmered enticingly in the spotlights illuminating the bar, drawing my gaze, stopping me from looking away. She picked up the glasses, and for the first time turned to face me. Even from five metres away I mentally flinched as she fixed a stare into me and spoke quietly.
‘How was your day, Maddie? Was it filled with good things?’
She knew.
Then there was no doubt. So close to me now her intoxicating scent filled my senses, even in the shadows cast from the hood that still shrouded her head, what I saw made me catch my breath.
I was shaken. I tried not to show it but knew it was impossible to hide anything from her. Her normally flawless face looked strained and hollow, the impeccable cool and unfaltering confidence gone. The eyes that bore incessantly into me didn't falter, but they filled my soul with her pain.
I took the brandy glass from her, couldn't answer her question. ‘Are you going to wear that thing all night?’ I tried to smile, it wouldn't come.
‘Take it off for me please.’
I pulled the black tie-str
ing underneath her chin, gently eased the cape open a little, revealing a simple vee-cut black top exposing enough cleavage to draw my eye. She drew a breath, her perfect breasts swelling tantalizingly, trying to strain the already-tight top to bursting point.
I forced my eyes back to her face, locked onto the stare that had not faltered since she first turned to face me. Hands that didn't seem to belong to me anymore softly caressed her cheeks, and then drifted delicately upwards, her long silky blonde hair sliding tantalizingly between my fingers. My stomach churned as the hands I didn't own rolled back the hood, and finally I could clearly see her stunning beauty.
She smiled, a sad pained expression. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
My hands dropped to her shoulders, and then slowly out to her arms, parting the cape further until it could cling to her no longer and fell to the floor. She let her body lean into mine, our lips millimetres apart. The hands I had no control over slipped around her slender waist, unable to pull themselves away.
Her full lips melted into mine, so delicately I could only just feel them. I kissed her back, a wisp of a kiss that lasted a brief moment yet filled my entire body with desire. She smiled again, a tiny tremble on her lips as she spoke the words that killed the moment stone dead.
‘Did you get them all, Maddie?’
I slumped heavily onto the black leather sofa, fortunately only a couple of steps away. My legs didn't seem to want to support me, not after she'd said those words.
‘Why do you do that?’ My voice was hoarse, more than a hint of anger in the tone.
‘I'm a bitch, remember?’
She turned sharply, walked away to the bar and refilled her glass. I swigged my brandy in one gulp, coughed as the liquor burned my throat. It didn't go unnoticed.
‘What's up Maddie… losing your sophisticated Brit cool?’ Her voice was sharp. She strode back to me, grabbed the empty glass and shoved the full one in my hand. ‘Here, you need it more than I do.’
I took a sip, smaller this time. My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to look at any part of the woman who stood defiantly in front of me, trying desperately to regain the composure I wasn't sure I could find again.
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