The Defector

by Mark Chisnell

  ‘Don't touch her.’ I yelled, struggling to hold my balance. But a foot jabbed into the small of my back and pushed me over. My arms tugged at the bindings in a desperate but futile reflex. I crashed to the floor with shoulder and forehead, cursing at the twin shocks of pain. Then a knee pressed hard into my spine, I felt the gun barrel in the back of my neck.

  ‘Shut up.’ hissed Alex in my ear, ‘I took a hell of a crack on the head to set you up, you fucking arsehole. And I can't tell you how disappointed I am the boss has his own plans for you. But if you don't behave and play the game properly this time, he might just let me sign your girlfriend up for our little stage show on the island. Maybe I'll do the job myself huh? Maybe I'll do it with this.’ The gun jabbed harder into the back of my neck, ‘How would you like that?’

  The seed of anger crystallised and grew exponentially. I twisted hard and lashed out with both feet, but Alex was ready and all that connected was the pistol whip across my head. There was a starburst of perception, vision doubled, tripled, quadrupled. Hands grabbed me on both sides and pulled. My legs wouldn't respond and knees cracked and banged against the ground. A door opened to my left and light poured out. The brightness was dazzling. I shut my eyes and the world started to suck and twist, spinning into a vortex of glittering light. Consciousness slipped a little further out of reach. I struggled against the inviting blackness with eyes open but sightless, stumbled into something solid, a metallic thud. I turned and slid down against it, my hands were pulled in and lashed down hard, while the world slowly formed itself from the surreal kaleidoscope of colour and shape.

  A brightly lit room emerged with bare walls, brown paintwork, a dirty grey carpet and a tangle of wires criss-crossing the floor. The room was 'L' shaped, and I was tied to a radiator on one of the longer, outside walls. A masked figure stood in front of me, cradling an automatic weapon. And Kate was about thirty feet away, with Alex bent over her, securing her to a radiator on the connecting outside wall of the other arm of the 'L'. He glanced up at me and leered. The anger came alive again, ‘You son of a bitch, you touch her...’ I started to shout, pulling hard against the ropes.

  ‘Enough!’ The single word stopped me. My heart froze, stumbled on the next beat. I looked round, Janac stood a few feet away, just inside the door. The grey eyes moved away from me and towards Alex, ‘Finished?’ he said sharply.

  Alex nodded, pulling away from Kate.

  ‘Good. Now get out of here.’

  The figure with the automatic was already going as Alex nodded again, turned and walked out past me. He glanced down and I watched his lips move silently, 'You're fucked.' The door shut on the three of us and an overpowering silence. I swallowed heavily, tried to wet dry lips, eyes drawn straight to Janac, who was pacing slowly across the room. He was carrying nothing, no gun, dressed respectably in chinos and a collared shirt. He stopped at the junction of the two shorter, inside walls of the arms of the 'L'. Both Kate and I, from our positions in each arm, could see him clearly.

  ‘So, Martin.’ he started slowly, ‘And Kate, I believe.’ he glanced at her momentarily, but she didn't respond. She was frozen, mesmerized. It was a hypnotic presence, emanating control. A power that commanded the silent, instant obedience of thugs like Alex. There was a half smile now, a crack in the thin lips, ‘Did you really think I would let you cheat the game?’

  Janac let the silence do the work. Failure, brutal ignominious failure crashed in on me. Humiliation overcame all other emotion. I had let him beat me. Now he threatened Kate. And there was nothing I could do. Powerless. I strained at the bindings and a deep roar of frustration built in my chest. It exploded out, a bellow of pain and anguish and hate. I pulled and tugged at the ropes that held me, kicked and lashed senselessly until finally the emotion exhausted itself.

  And Janac just watched in an amused silence.

  When I was quiet, he said, ‘Kick and scream all you like Martin,’ he nodded towards the wall that Kate was tied to, and I followed his gaze, heart still pounding from the energy burned. There was a mattress jammed, by four planks, against the wall fifteen feet from her. ‘You will see that we have taken precautions that no sound or light leaves this room. For an hour anyway. Not that there is anybody out there to hear it, this amusement park has been closed down for years.’

  I guessed there was a window behind the mattress. I glanced around the room, I couldn't see any other way out. But I couldn't see either the wall opposite Kate, or the end wall of her arm of the 'L' - but the corresponding end wall in my arm contained the door we had entered though.

  I shifted my attention to the mess of wires and cables. Now I noticed a grey box with a red button set in the top, right in front of me. There was a similar switch in front of Kate. At Janac's feet was a battery, and two clocks, one facing each of us. A garish yellow and green toy lorry was upside down on the floor, by the wall opposite me. And all the components of this apparatus were connected to each other by the spider's web of wires. But it wasn't the wires running from the lorry that jump-started the sweat on my face.

  The lorry lay on its back, wheels in the air, with a cord fixed to the axle. The cord then ran up and over a hook, which was mounted in the wall opposite, and down to where it was fastened to the top of a tin. The tin was precariously wedged half-way onto a grenade. And I could see that the pin was out.

  Janac was watching me carefully, ‘Yes, that's the game Martin. It's a good one too.’ he lifted an eyebrow, ‘You will recall that I told you the penalty for taking the drugs to the cops was death. Well, you tried to do just that and the minders should have carried out the judgement on you instantly. But they screwed it up and so you're still alive. Which is more than I can say for them.’ His voice was so cold the chill touched my heart. I might have been better off dead. ‘So, as I promised, now you must play another game.’ He kicked a heel up and leaned back against the corner, folded his arms lightly across his chest, ‘And it has worked out rather well, as we have this delightful young lady involved.’ He stripped Kate with the grey eyes, she didn't even blink. ‘It took me a while to figure out how best to use her. You see I'm not quite sure about your relationship. She's with the guy on the boat. But I think you two go back a way as well. You took too big a chance asking her to contact Alex otherwise.’ He waved a thin finger at us both, ‘There's something there. Something between you. Old lovers perhaps?’

  Despite myself, my arm muscles tensed against the rope and Janac smiled. I cursed myself for allowing the uncharacteristic reaction.

  ‘As I thought. So unfortunately the Prisoner's Dilemma is no good to us. Too easy. You'd both cooperate.’ he stroked his lower lip with a finger, before going on. ‘At least, I think you'd cooperate Martin, even you.’ a whisper of a smile appeared on the hard face. ‘I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, and assume so. And anyway, I have something just as good. It's called the Volunteer's Dilemma. It should really be played with a large group of people, none of whom can talk to each other. But I think with just the two of you, you can talk. And you will have plenty to talk about.’

  ‘You will both see the charming little toy lorry, the grenade and the tin opposite you. Each apparatus is connected to the clocks.’ He pointed a finger at them, ‘After sixty minutes both clocks will complete a circuit to the battery here,’ he tapped it with his left foot, ‘and switch on the motors in the two lorries. The lorries will wind the cord onto the axle, pulling the two tins off the grenades, releasing the spoon's and - boom. It looks a bit Heath Robinson I know, but I can assure you that it will work.’ He smiled at me with a malice that meant it already had. ‘The grenades will kill you both, obviously. The L2 grenade is fatal at up to five metres and you're only ten feet away from it. Your death will probably be instantaneous. Messy, but quick. However, there is a way out, for one of you. You both have a button.’ I glanced at it, it was just within reach of my feet. A big red button. An apocalypse button.

  Janac continued, ‘That button will switch on your lorry, pop
ping the tin off the grenade opposite you. Killing whoever hits their button first. But the other individual will have the pleasure of watching the show in relative safety. See,’ and he pointed, ‘with the grenade up against the wall the blast is directed outwards, sweeping everything in front of the wall with metal. But the shrapnel won't reach round the corner into the other section of the room,’ he turned and moved a couple of paces towards Kate, ‘to where you sit in safety. If that is, Martin does the decent thing.’

  He backed up, leaned against the wall again and turned to me, ‘And this is where the volunteer bit comes in. If either of you fires the grenade early, the dual switch in that box in front of you will disconnect the other lorry from the clock circuit. Making the other grenade harmless when the time is up. The survivor will then be released, after a twenty four hour sojourn, whilst Alex and myself depart for more friendly shores. Of course they will have to explain to the police where they were during a brutal murder in a room full of cash and drugs. Especially since you Martin, were seen by witnesses climbing into the van with Kate. But I'm sure that's not something you can't take care of with a little quick talking. And so that's the dilemma. Who commits suicide for the sake of the other?’

  The empty, emotionless eyes flickered away, then settled on me again, ‘You see, I said you might survive the next game Martin, but at what cost? Well, Kate's the cost. Or have you the balls to take the original punishment that I promised and die like a man?’ he crunched a fist into the other palm, and smiled, ‘It's good isn't it? And if neither of you has the guts to do it - you both die anyway.’

  It came to me then: a torrent of relief - I could save her. But then came the violent shock of what it would cost. It would be my last act.

  And it would also be Janac's. I hadn't lost yet. He was going with me. All the way to hell. I watched him push himself off the wall with his heel. He started moving towards the door, still talking, but I heard nothing. He would take the brunt of the blast if the tin popped off quickly enough. I might make it. I glanced at Kate, maybe the last time. She looked confused, something in my face, Janac would see it too. I had to do it, overcome the resistance. The instinct to survive. Heavy limbs that didn't want to move. A consciousness that didn't want to die. I glanced up, he was right there, opposite me. It had to be now. Now! I lashed out at the button. My foot came down hard with a crack.

  But nothing. No winding of the motor. No explosion. No flash of light and death. No tearing of flesh, shards of steel and pain. I was still very much alive. Heart pounding, breath tumbling out in short, sharp jerks. Janac stood grinning down at me. Hands clasped in front of him, a teacher amused at a pupil's foolish error.

  ‘You don't think I'm that stupid do you Martin? The circuit comes alive in another minute and thirty seconds. Exactly sixty minutes after that it closes. And you both die. Unless of course someone volunteers to pre-empt it. I'll guarantee the safety of the survivor. You have my word on that. It's the game, and the game is everything.’ He strode the remaining feet across to the door. And turned, with one final smile, ‘Goodbye Martin. Don't let yourself down.’

  The door swung open, I found some breath, ‘You bastard Janac, you come back in here and I'll take you with me you son of a bitch!’ I screamed at him, but the door clicked shut behind him.

  I swallowed heavily, trying to get control. I'd just committed suicide. And now I had to find the strength to do it again. I started to shake uncontrollably. Adrenaline still flooded my body. Fight or flight. And I could do neither. I turned to Kate, she was staring at me wildly, straining at the ropes. Then I heard the click and looked up at the clock. The grenades were live. We had an hour to live.

  Chapter 15

  I watched the second hand of the clock. Felt my pulse loud and heavy in my chest. Every tick of every second matched by two beats of my heart. And it was getting faster. Boom, boom, boom. Tick, tick, tick. Time and heartbeat. Racing towards the vanishing point quicker than I could count them. Slipping away, the moments dissolving...

  Stop.

  I hauled in a huge breath, balled fists, taut muscles. Then let it go, let it all go. Slowly, relax. Think about calmness. Think about being calm. Think about thinking clearly. There was time. Fifty eight minutes. While there was any time left, there was time for action. There was time to do something. You need to be calm to think of that something. Something to do. Other than hit the big red button and blow yourself to hell.

  ‘I don't believe you did that.’ Kate's voice was almost unrecognisable, a strained, terrified whimper.

  I turned to her, ‘If anyone's going to die it's going to be me.’ I said the words, thought about the button. Held onto my idea of calmness. It had to be dealt with. I had wanted her to live, well now I could make it happen. I had to get it under control. I concentrated on my breathing, got it steady. Good.

  But again Kate's voice snatched me back to the real world, ‘I don't believe this. This is insane. You can't die. I don't want you to die.’ the pitch was rising, she was close to hysterics. Disbelief. A lot of pain. Staring at the grenade opposite her.

  ‘Kate, Kate. Kate!’ I had to shout, break into the gathering momentum of her panic. Her head snapped round to look at me. ‘We have some time. I'm not going to hit the button till we're all out of time. Anything can happen. Take it easy, try and think. How tight are you tied?’

  Her eyes were wide open, sweat was pouring off her face, hair matted and stuck to her cheeks. I could see her struggle with it. Pulling back.

  ‘Come on Kate, stay with me.’ I urged and finally she started to relax, still breathing hard and fast.

  She stared into space for a moment. Then turned and said, ‘It's too tight.’

  ‘Did they search you? You have anything we can use? Anything sharp.’

  She shook her head, ‘No, that bastard was really thorough.’

  The anger started to build again. But anger was only a whisper away from panic. I fought it back. Stay calm. Think. Maybe they were listening. Would they come in if they thought we could get loose? ‘Katie, is there a door that end?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Ok, my door is the only way in here. And Janac knows what will happen if anyone walks through that. They can't touch us for,’ I glanced at the clock, it tore at my heart, ‘fifty five minutes. We have that long to think of something.’

  Like what? I worked at the ropes, but they were tight as hell, chafing skin off my wrists. Maybe the radiator pipe, but it was solid, no movement. I twisted to look at it. Perhaps there was something sharp on it I could move the rope towards. I was tied to a vertical pipe that entered the radiator at the top. But I couldn't move the bindings up the pipe, too much tension in the rope for it to slide. I felt around what I could reach with my hands. But it was all smooth, with kiddy-safe functionality. I swept the floor with my feet and legs, everywhere I could get to, maybe something metal, discarded, with an edge. Nothing. I told Kate to do the same. Watched her struggle, pull this way and that. Still nothing. And the clock ticked on. Fifty one minutes.

  I felt the panic building again. Dragged it back under control. Panic and you're finished. Only a cool head was going to think of the way out. And there had to be a way out. There just had to be. I stared at the button. The red button. Then I saw it. A hairline crack in the grey case. I must have damaged it when I smashed my foot down. And it was plastic. It would break. There would be pieces, pieces with an edge. Maybe metal inside. But the risk was huge. I wetted my lips. And thought about what could happen when I broke the case. But this was it, what I had to do. What were the options? I glanced at the clock. Fifty minutes. None. Get on with it.

  I looked over at Kate, she was struggling hopelessly with the ropes. ‘Kate.’ she glanced up. I spoke quickly, quietly, ‘Listen up. I'm going to do something scary. It's not what it looks like. If it works it might mean a way out. If it doesn't...’ I hesitated, ‘If it doesn't work, you have to know I never stopped loving you.’

  She opened her mouth to speak.r />
  ‘Shhhh. Don't say anything. Look away and keep quiet.’ But I was dancing light-headed in the gaze of those blue eyes and I felt the old emotions start to rise. And the thoughts of loss and death made me hesitate; it was an insane idea. But it was the only idea. I stamped on every flickering flame of ordinary emotion. I had to be crazy. There was no time for feelings.

  ‘Close your eyes, look away.’ I said coldly.

  Slowly, fear etched in her face, she did as she was told. I stared at the box. The edge above the crack was the place to aim for. I raised my foot. Focused on the edge. Miss it by half an inch and it would be the last thing I ever did. I steadied my breathing. And brought my heel down. There was a sharp crack. A stab of sensation in my foot, a millisecond of pure awareness. I was one single nerve, one single feeling - waiting to die.

  ‘No Martin! No!’

  But there was no whir of the motor. No motion of the tin. No burst of fire and flame. I had minutes, not moments left. And the split in the case was opening. I came back down with a rush. Get on with it. I looked up at Kate.

  ‘Jesus Christ Martin!’ she was staring at me, mouth agape.

  ‘It's good. The pieces.’ I hissed. I gritted my teeth and swallowed. It wasn't that good. I had to hit it harder, faster. But that meant less accuracy. I glanced up at the clock. Forty eight minutes. Again the wash of panic. I steadied myself. Raised my foot and brought it down. Harder. And again. Harder still. There was a screech and splintering and my heart pounded at the bars of my rib cage.

  But the toy lorry sat motionless. The grenade remained imprisoned. And now the box had split open along the fault line. The lid had sprung away intact. The button was screwed into the lid and it engaged with a switch fixed to the underside. Wires ran from the switch to a circuit board mounted in the top of the box. The confusion of cables that ran away across the floor to the other components were all connected to this board. The chances were that Janac had rigged it to go off if any of those wires were disconnected. I had to be very careful of the circuit board. The box itself was cracked and broken on three sides. And the circuit board had already taken some damage. I took a deep breath and shook away the sweat that was rolling into my eyes. That last hit had been too hard. I'd been lucky.