As David loomed closer, the young man closed his eyes tight and screamed for his life, fearing the worst. David stood over the young man for an overly long second before crouching to take his mobile phone from his inside pocket.
“Please ... don’t kill me,” the young man begged. Again, David remained emotionless and said nothing. Instead, he turned away and walked back towards his new car. Louise stood nearby, frozen in shock, halfway between the two cars. With a slight nod, David motioned Louise to get inside their new mode of transport, which she did, without question.
David climbed into the driver's side. The engine was still running. He closed the door, slammed the car into reverse and drove in the opposite direction, underneath the bridge.
The young man, still on his knees in the middle of the road, opened his eyes just as his car sped out of sight. “Motherfu-”
As they drove past an old, overgrown and unused farm field, David wound down his driver's-side window and threw the driver's phone far and hard, out into the field. Louise stubbornly folded her arms. She looked upset and agitated.
“So, are we going to be jumping from one car to the next all bloody morning?”
David frowned.
“So what's the plan now then?” she enquired as politely as she could.
“For an illegal immigrant I gave a bed to for the night, you sure as hell do ask a lot of questions.”
“Well, you can take that statement right back for a start, pal. I ain't no illegal and have just as much right to be here as you and your 'one-race' Nazi cronies out there.”
David smirked.
“I was born in this country, I'll have you know. So were my brothers and both my parents,” Louise continued with anger rising in her belly.
“I'm sorry. It was just a joke, alright? For the record, my mum was German and my dad was Irish/Italian. So, I'm more of a fucking immigrant here than anyone. I'm just lucky – or unlucky – enough to look and sound like one of these so-called right-wing fucking Nazi nationalist cunts.”
Louise smiled at that and even chuckled a little too. “Jesus. So even I have more of a right to be here than you. It really is just about skin colour now, isn't it? Skin, accents, labels.”
David fell silent. He continued driving out of the city and north along the eastern coast of the island.
“So, are you going to see someone up north here or are we just gonna keep driving until we run out of road?”
“I'm going to see someone up north, yes,” David replied without going into any of the details that Louise so desperately craved.
“Who you going to see?” she impatiently asked.
“Just ... just an old friend, that's all. Someone who can give me some information.”
“What kind of information?”
“Just information about something,” David calmly replied.
“Something about what?” Louise continued.
David sighed, then remained firmly silent.
“Jesus Christ, David.” Louise exploded in a bout of frustration. “I've had better conversations with a dead bloody dog. Can you at least tell me why you're not in the army anymore?”
David took a deep breath. He glanced at Louise for a long time before answering. “I just decided to leave, that's all.”
“Before or after the war?”
“Pretty much right at the very beginning of it.”
“Did you do a runner or something?”
“Yeah. Something like that,” David replied with a tone just slightly above a whisper.
“Why did you do a runner, or is that top-secret information, too?” Louise pried further.
David sighed but he didn't seem annoyed. In fact, he looked as though he might be lightening up a bit, but only just a little.
“I ran away because ... because I fell in love, if you must know.”
Louise instantly jolted upright in her seat. David's admission genuinely surprised and moved her. It was the last thing she'd expected to hear from such an emotionless brute, thug of a man, who came across as having not the slightest feelings for anyone, not even himself.
“Okay. Wow. Did not expect that,” Louise said while pausing for breath. “So, what happened to her then?”
David stared at Louise for an excruciatingly long moment. He then turned his attention back to the road, where he gazed hard at the sea on the eastern horizon.
“She died,” David finally spoke.
“Shit ... I'm sorry,” Louise replied. She hesitated, wondering whether to push the subject matter any further. Finally, she did. “What was her name?”
David paused for another long and painful moment, frozen in thought. “Her name ... her name was Ashley.”
Louise smiled at that. “That's a lovely name. What was she like?”
David hesitated for another tense moment. Then he smiled, very faintly, to himself. “Actually, believe it or not, Ashley was a lot like you. Strong, determined, full of energy, always curious, always looking for an adventure ... always asking questions, no matter how personal,” David said with a sly grin.
“How did she ... die? If you don't mind me asking.”
David took a deep breath. He wasn't prepared for the question and It brought back all kinds of crazy and horrific memories and images to his imagination. If Louise was paying close attention, she would have noticed his eyes tearing up, just a little too.
“It doesn't matter. Look, why don't you tell me about your family for a while? They must be missing you a lot right about now, no?” David asked, deliberately turning the questions on Louise for a change. It was obvious to him that she couldn't sit in silence for very long. If she was going to talk, better that talk be about her rather than him.
The question seemed to throw Louise off guard. She turned away from David and snuggled up against the window like a bad smell had suddenly filled the car. “Actually, if you don't mind, I'm feeling pretty tired myself. I'm gonna get some sleep for a wee while, if that's all right with you.”
Tears formed in Louise's eyes. She didn't want David to see them, so she kept her head turned well away from him. David just smiled and refocused his attention upon the road ahead. It wasn't intentional, but his question had done what his previous answers could not – create some peace and quiet and a little time for himself to think.
PART 2
Quantum of Solace
Chapter 13
An hour later, David and Louise pulled up to an old, renovated farmhouse on the northernmost tip of the island. An overweight man in his 50s, along with a young teenage boy, were in a nearby field, washing down a white stallion. When they saw David exit the car, they both immediately stopped what they were doing. Louise remained seated inside.
In a calm manner, David made his way towards the edge of the fenced field. He stopped just a few yards shy from the old man, the boy and the horse. “Hey. I'm looking for a Norman Jones,” David called over to them.
The old man glanced down at the boy as if to suggest that everything was okay and that David posed no threat to either of them in the slightest. The old man turned back to David. “I'm Norman. How can I help you?”
David cleared his throat. “This is a really big fucking long shot, sir. And we don't have a lot of time here, so I'm just gonna cut straight through all the horse shit. I rented one of your cottages in Scotland, near Oldshoremore, over a year ago now, before the war broke out and then again during the war, but without your permission.”
The old man's eyes widened with caution. He straightened his posture. A wave of recognition suddenly spread all over his face. He appeared to know what this might be about.
“And I'm praying,” David continued, “that you have some kind of video footage or CCTV of something ... something terrible that happened there, late last summer.”
The old man took a long, deep breath. He knew exactly what David was talking about and he shuddered just a little at the something terrible to which David was referring.
***
T
he old man sat at a single computer inside a small box office room on the ground floor of the farmhouse. He patiently loaded up the slow and dated machine while David glanced over and out of a small round window on the opposite side of the room. Through the window, he watched Louise as she chatted with the teenage boy while they both brushed down the magnificent white horse together.
“I didn't know if anyone would ever come looking for these files,” the old man suddenly said, breaking the silence and shattering David's thoughts. “Especially after the war broke out right at the very same time. But what happened at that cottage sickened me to my core. I only ever watched the footage once and one time was enough. I wanted to delete it immediately. I was going to delete it. But in the back of my mind I knew that I shouldn't, you know ... just in case things somehow ever went back to the way they were ... and perhaps, someone, some day, may just come looking for this evidence and use it to bring those monsters to justice.”
David remained absolutely silent. He'd avidly listened to every single word the old man had to say with tears now swelling in his eyes, yet he continued to gaze out of the small window at Louise and the horse and the boy the whole entire time.
“But I didn't think for one damn second that YOU of all people would be the one to come looking,” the old man finished.
David turned fully around to look the old man straight in the eye. He still didn’t utter a word. The old man nodded and turned back to face the bulky computer screen. He proceeded to click on video files until he pulled up the ones he needed.
“Are you sure you want to see this?” the old man asked. “I could just tell you what I know. What I saw. I have the license plate of the truck involved. I have some good still images of at least three of the men involved that day. And I think there were at least five in total.”
“I need to see it for myself,” David interrupted him. “So please ... show me.”
“All the files you need are right here,” continued the old man as he hovered the mouse cursor over them. He clicked on the first file. “This is footage from the camera at the main gate of the cottage. The second file ... well, it's from a small hidden security camera on top of the front porch. But it's not an easy watch, my friend,”
David squinted his eyes and nodded gently. The old man stood up to leave.
“I'll be outside when you're ready. I truly am sorry for what happened there.”
The old man gently patted David's shoulder before leaving the room without any more words.
David waited until the old man had fully closed the door behind him. Then he moved over to the computer chair directly opposite the screen. He hesitated for a long time before selecting the first file in the list. He then began watching the events from the cottage that fateful day unfold before his very eyes.
He saw a group of five white men, seemingly in their 20s and 30s, drive a black pickup truck straight through the cottage gates, smashing them in two, before screeching to a grinding halt right outside the cottage. The men were carrying large sticks, knives and baseball bats as they jumped out of the truck, front and back. They barged their way through the old front door. One man stood out in particular – a huge, muscled man with dyed-blue hair. Colourful tattoos covered every exposed piece of his skin from his neck down to his fingertips.
More tears began to swell up in David's eyes as the group of men dragged a naked body from the cottage, down the porch steps and into the grass and dirt out front before going to town on the poor, defenceless person with blow after blow.
Back out in the field, laughter filled the air as an excited Louise sat on top of the huge stallion as the old man and the teenage boy led both her and the horse around to the front of the house.
“Is this your first time on a horse?” the old man asked in a cheerful tone.
“Oh, aye,” Louise cried with a big, beaming smile. “The only time I ever saw horses back in Edinburgh was during the Edinburgh derby, Hearts v Hibs, and those huge, ginormous police horses that patrolled the streets and kept the idiots in check, you know.”
The old man chuckled at that. “So, what were you, then? A Jambo or a Hibee?” he asked.
Louise was about to answer when a military police car suddenly drove onto the farmland and slowly approached the cottage. The old man and the boy just stood and stared at the vehicle. Louise was quick to jump off the horse, though, and rush over towards the old farmhouse, yelling David's name at the top of her lungs.
Back inside the tiny computer room, the monitor screen was now frozen with the face of the huge, blue-haired, muscular brute of a man, who appeared to be the leader of the pack of thugs. From what David could see of his upper body, the part not covered by his thin white vest, tattoos of all shapes and sizes ran across his arms and shoulders – British flags, BNP markings, Nazi signs and Roman numeral engravings, most likely markers of all the people he'd killed.
David slumped over the computer desk with his face buried deep in his folded arms. He was gently sobbing, trying his best to keep himself together.
When he heard Louise crying his name from outside, he swiftly sat upright in his chair and did his best to wipe away his tears. Then he heard the approaching car pulling up outside the farmhouse. He jumped up from his chair and proceeded towards the window. He took a cautious glance outside. Right away he saw John, the military police officer who'd given him the address of the farm where he now found himself. John stepped out of the car. He was by himself, which David took as a sign in his favour.
Louise barged into the small computer room. She glanced briefly at David and his red, puffy eyes before glancing over at the face of the terrifying-looking blue-haired brute still frozen upon the computer screen.
“Someone's here, David.”
Outside, John stepped cautiously towards the old man. “Is he still here?” John calmly asked.
The old man said nothing, then glanced over at his farmhouse as David stepped out of the front door with Louise by his side. In silence, David walked a few yards closer to John before coming to a standstill about a dozen yards away.
“You here to bring me in?” David asked with a deathly stare.
“Ha.' John chuckled. 'No. I'm not. I would have brought a few more tanks and helicopters with me for that feat. But you do need to leave this island at once. I managed to divert most of the search squadrons out looking for you over to the west of the island for now. You still have a good few hours yet.” John then snorted and shook his head. “Jesus Christ, David,” he continued. “You really know how to make a fucking exit when you decide to leave town, that's for damn sure.”
“That boy,” David said in protest. “It was an accident. I went there only to scare him.”
“It doesn't matter now, David. He had connections with the military. How do you think he managed to live the way he did on a military fucking island, for Christ’s sake? Gain access to all those drugs. Distribute his drugs without any intervention.”
“It wasn't about his drug dealing,” David swiftly remarked.
John glanced at Louise. “I know that,” he replied. John then turned his attention back to David. “So ... did you manage to find anything useful out here?”
“Thanks to this man,” David said with a gentle nod towards the old man. “A license plate and a couple of faces I won't forget in a hurry. I just need to get to the mainland now.”
“Do you at least know what part of the mainland you need to get to?” John asked.
David just chuckled at that. “Absolutely no fucking idea,” he replied. “But I can start by making my way back to where Ashley died. Take another look around some more towns and villages in the area that I might have missed the first time. See what turns up. I know who I'm looking for now. It might take some time, but hell, what else am I gonna do?”
John snorted and gently shook his head. He knew what a ridiculous long-shot quest David would be embarking on, but he also knew that deep down inside, David would do his damn best to see it through to the bitter
end, no matter how long it took or how far he had to walk and travel around the mainland – years, decades even, checking every single face and every single car registration plate in the process. At the very least, he would spend the rest of his life doing this … or die trying. John knew that for sure. He could smell it on David like he could smell the scent of a world at war in the air. He could see the determination in his eyes, in his very demeanour and body language, even from 12 yards away.
“Look,” John said with a deep sigh. “I can get someone to run the plate for you when I get back to base, at least check for an address or something on the old system. We haven't had internet for well over six months and our own files haven't been updated since the war started, but it's worth a shot. You have to keep in mind that the vehicle could have been stolen from anyone and anywhere before Ashley's death, so it's another big long shot for sure.”
“Well, I’ve been pretty fond of long shots these past few days,” David interrupted with a slight grin.
“In the meantime,” John continued, “you really do need to get off this island and fast. Steal a boat from one of the harbours along the coast or swim if you can. I won't be able to protect you from what's coming if the army catches up to you now. The girl, either.”
“I have an old boat you can take,” the old man suddenly said. “It's a real piece of shit, but at least it floats ... sometimes.”
“Thank you,” David said.
“If you make it to the mainland, find a working landline,” John continued. “There should still be plenty of them around over there. I'll give you a number to call me on, too.”
John made his way back to his car. He grabbed a small notepad and pen from the dashboard and wrote down the landline number for his office. He then handed it to David. “I should have an address or something for you by tomorrow.”
“Thank you for doing this,” David replied. He then motioned towards Louise. “What about her? Can you at least take her back to Douglas with you, back to her family?”
The Wrath of David Page 7