Elias (GRIT Sector 1)

by Rebecca Sherwin

  “If you want out, I want you to say-”

  “Don’t give me a safe word,” she interrupted. “I don’t want you to let me out. Don’t be soft and sweet now. Find that other Elias and make him make me listen.”

  Fucking hell, she was impossible.

  “Okay, but you’re making this difficult on yourself.”

  Taking hold of her again, I led her down the hall and into the office. I guided her to a seat at the desk and encouraged her to sit. When she was in place, gripping the arms of the chair for much-needed support, I took the seat opposite her so I could watch her reaction.

  “The year was 1390. Records don’t go back much further than that and, honestly, they’re irrelevant. This was where our story began.”

  “But you said-”

  “I know what I said.” I’d told her a different date yesterday, intentionally, to see her reaction. To protect GRIT and, honestly, we hadn’t had a name before that. “It began in 1390. Elizabeth Ashford was in her late twenties. She spent her days bathing royalty and pulling on corset strings. She was trusted, she was respected as far as her status allowed, and she was used.” Trixie shifted, getting comfortable to listen to the entire story. I was impressed. She was softening, her instincts telling her to listen and absorb. “Illegitimacy was seen as one of the largest taboos in the country, aside from disloyal women and sex before marriage.” I shuddered, so did Trixie. She was back in 1390 with me. “There were two boys, whose names will remain a secret for now. They were raised as the King’s sons, but they were not heirs to the throne because they were the product of an affair between His Majesty and the Queen’s maid.”

  “Elizabeth…”

  “No. Elizabeth was noble and loyal, and she did not enter into an affair with the King. But she knew who did—a maid named Isabel. The first boy was raised in the Kingdom, amongst rumour and judgement because Isabel would not reveal the name of the father. The birth of the second boy would be her downfall. She wanted recognition. She wanted her children’s succession recognised. She wanted them to be given the status they deserved, as the King’s heirs.”

  “What happened?”

  “Elizabeth watched on. She and Isabel had become friends and shared a room in the maids’ quarters of the castle. Elizabeth had known the identity of the boy’s father all along.” I took a deep breath. “One day Isabel disappeared. Her name was no longer mentioned, her disappearance never investigated. Elizabeth suspected the boys were in danger too and, soon enough, they were sentenced to death. Their execution was planned for the following day and would take place in the Tower.”

  “Did she save them? Please tell me she saved them.”

  “She saved them. She was an entrusted member of the Queen’s cabinet, and it was not uncommon for her to run an errand in the early hours of the morning. She travelled to Tower Hill with a message for the guardsmen that she was to serve the boys their final meals and take any final words to be passed to the King. She was granted access and she and the boys were never seen again.”

  “Were they killed?” Trixie sat forward, searching behind the blindfold for reassurance. She believed the story and she trusted it. She knew why Elizabeth had taken the boys and I had planted the seed of doubt in the Royal Family who claimed so much nobility.

  “No. Elizabeth had watched for years as common people were robbed and ridiculed, inferior to those they lived beneath and at their mercy for crimes they did or didn’t commit. She wanted justice and she wanted salvation for those boys. They were rightful heirs. As the King’s sons, they should have been given their place on the family tree and given the chance to take the throne.” Trixie nodded and I smiled knowing she couldn’t see me. I was proud of her for listening, for understanding and agreeing. “Elizabeth saved them and vowed to protect them. In return they vowed to protect the streets, and so the story began…”

  "What did Elizabeth do?"

  I stood up and rounded the desk, taking hold of her to guide her to feet. I led her to the bookcase and slid it across, unlocking the door to the Sector and opening it up with a creak. Trixie stepped forward, memorising the steps from yesterday. She was taking control, as much as she had the knowledge to take in this situation and stood at the bottom of the steps to wait for me while I shut the door behind us.

  "How do you know where you're going down here?" She asked.

  "Lights on the walls," I answered matter of fact. I didn't need the lights, but they were here anyway. "We used to have torches, naked flames to guide the way, but we upgraded to electricity a while back."

  Trixie didn't respond. She wasn't interested in making conversation, only having her questions answered.

  "Come on." I led her along the corridor with my arm around her waist, careful not to touch her too intimately, although able to catch her if she slipped. "It would be much easier if you could see."

  She reached up and undid the knot on the blindfold, exposing eyes filled with fear and curiosity. She looked around her at the dripping brickwork and old architecture of the walkway.

  "How long has this been here?"

  "Since the house was built in the 1500s. We've reinforced it over the centuries, so you're at no risk of it collapsing."

  "Perfect," she snapped, her voice laced with contempt.

  We continued along the path, past the room where I'd taken her yesterday, until we stopped at the first door on the right. I took the key from around my neck and dangled it over her shoulder. She took it and I watched her unlock the door with shaky hands. I stopped her opening it with my hand on the handle.

  "Elizabeth had been concocting a plan. It had included Isabel before she disappeared, but Elizabeth had to think fast. She had to get the boys to safety and, knowing she wouldn't be able to return to the castle, she broke another law."

  "But she did it for the right reasons. She needed to keep the boys safe."

  I allowed myself to smile, knowing she couldn't see. She was here with me. She was travelling every step and believed that sometimes drastic, immoral actions had to be taken.

  "What did she do?"

  I pushed the door open and afforded her a second to see what we kept inside. Jewels. Sparkling rubies, glimmering emeralds, twinkling diamonds, all kept in glass cases to preserve their condition and keep them safe from contamination.

  "She took what she would need to ensure their survival."

  "She stole the jewels."

  Trixie took a tentative step into the jewel room and looked around at all the priceless gems surrounding her. The fluorescents bounced off the glass, rainbow colours casting their glow on the princess in the centre of the room.

  "They're beautiful."

  "They're materials. They were irrelevant and unworthy of respect. They were simply a means to an end—a way for Elizabeth to carry out her plan."

  "What was her plan?"

  "She was taken by the King as a young woman and she had left a husband behind. Clarence. They'd stayed in contact and he'd secured them a place to stay. She'd taken the jewels over a few months, knowing the boys were running out of time and would soon be disposed of. Clarence helped them escape the tower and they fled to the underground hideout he'd spent months building."

  "What did the castle do when they found out?"

  "They issued a warrant for her arrest. The boys were free because the secret of their existence couldn't be exposed. But Elizabeth was in danger."

  "So she used the jewels."

  "She did. The emergence of private banks had begun. The royal family often borrowed money from these banks to fund wars and battles." I stepped next to Trixie and we rounded the room together, expecting the array of stolen gems. "Elizabeth arranged a meeting with the founder of one of the central banks. She offered him these jewels in exchange for cash. She then invested the cash into the bank and loaned it to the King to fund war. The money came back, with interest, and by the time the boys were young men, they had enough money to walk into the bank and buy it."

  Trixie gas
ped. She was shocked at the brutality of the plan, at the cut throat action of Elizabeth Ashford. She was a strong woman. She earned her right as the founder of GRIT, not only by staying alive during a time when beheadings were more common than births, but by protecting children at the risk of her own life.

  "So..." Trixie said, caressing one of the glass cabinets. "She now had money, the bank, and the jewels."

  "She did. She now controlled the most powerful bank in the world and she cut a deal with His Majesty."

  "What was the deal?"

  "She held the jewels at ransom. She threatened to dispose of them and dissolve all assets in the bank, meaning the empire would be at risk of attack because there would be no money to fund their army. She signed a contract with the King that the jewels were to be formally placed in her possession and both she—and the boys—were granted immunity. The King knew she would expose him, that there was someone else who would bring the empire to its knees if she—or her adopted sons—were harmed.

  "Clarence."

  "Yes, Clarence." I stroked her hair and she didn't pull away. She nuzzled into me as she remained fixated on a ruby held tightly in a velvet case. "The eldest boy adopted Elizabeth's last name, Ashford. And the younger..."

  "Clarence's." I nodded. "Blackwood?"

  "Blackwood."

  Trixie shook her head in astonishment. She was smiling. She may not have agreed with what we did, but she'd unknowingly pledged allegiance by believing in our creator.

  Elizabeth Ashford had been a hero. She'd been a champion for two children sentenced to death because their father couldn't keep it in his pants. My heart broke for Isabel, for a woman who had merely succumbed to a man of power who had no doubt exerted his ownership of the country to will her into his chambers. She shouldn't have been punished, and those two boys had been innocent. They were just children. When I stood here yesterday, chained to a cross and told my family were vigilantes, I'd been horrified. I'd been disgusted and ashamed and confused about how they could claim righteousness. Now? Now I understood. I understood that all we wanted was to continue what our first ancestor had begun. She'd been a warrior and I no longer felt disgusted about continuing her legacy.

  "So why continue it?" I asked, still searching for clues that would cement my belief. "Surely this ended with Elizabeth and the boys."

  "But it didn't. There was always someone in power, someone on the throne dictating how people should live and what was considered wrong and unlawful."

  "But isn't that the way of the land? Isn't that part of living in a democracy?"

  Elias led me out of the room, taking the key from me to lock the door behind us.

  "Do you think that's the society we live in?" he asked. "A democracy?"

  "I don't know. But I do know that this is wrong. Hurting people is wrong."

  "It's control, Trixie. Both damage control and crime control. How much worse do you think this country would be if there were no organisations trying to keep the peace?"

  "Plural. There are more than GRIT?"

  "No. We were commissioned by the Met some centuries ago. We have multiple organisations within the one institution."

  "So you're protected? You're allowed to do this because the corrupt country you claim to be battling has given you permission to break the laws others are punished for?"

  He shrugged. "If that's how you want to put it."

  "How else is there to put it?"

  Elias thought for a second and then cleared his throat to disguise a chuckle. Why did he think it was funny?

  "No, you've put it correctly. Like Elizabeth—since you so readily supported her actions—everything we do is done for the right reasons."

  "But how can you be sure?"

  Elias stopped at another door and gripped the handle.

  "Are you sure you're ready for the answer?"

  I nodded, refusing to afford a second to think about it.

  "Very well."

  He pushed the door open and I bolted inside without thought when I saw a man tied to a chair, wearing a crimson mask, a bloodied cloak covering his body. I fell to my knees in front of him and began pulling at his bindings.

  "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I screamed, looking over my shoulder to see Elias leaning on the doorframe with his arms folded. "Is he alive?"

  I searched for a pulse in the man's neck, but I felt nothing. I continued to try and free the ropes around his wrists, until he groaned, his head rolling back from where his chin had been resting on his chest. I jumped back, falling backwards into a puddle. I didn't dare look at what it was.

  "What have you done?" I asked, gasping for air but refusing to look behind me again.

  "This man's name is Sam," Elias said, his voice void of emotion. "He killed his wife, Melissa, and their two children, Angus and Autumn."

  I slid back a little more, an equal distance between Sam and Elias.

  "What?"

  "He strangled Autumn first, a bright seven-year-old, auburn-haired little cherub. Then he smothered his son with his pillow while he slept, waiting until his body stopped convulsing because he couldn't fight anymore." I could barely hear him. The ringing in my ears overpowered all other sensation as Sam looked directly into my eyes and I saw no humanity in his. "Now, Melissa...he raped her first. He took what he thought he was entitled to from the woman whose finger he'd slid a ring on when he vowed to protect her. He kept her alive for three days, tied to a bed, at his mercy as he assaulted her over and over again. She begged for her children. She begged for her life. She begged to know why he was doing it, who had told him he could, and how he could torture the woman he loved."

  I felt sick. My stomach rolled and saliva filled my mouth as I fought to keep the contents of my stomach contained.

  "When we found Melissa, Sam was still in action. He was consumed with rage, his dick buried inside his dead wife as he stabbed her with a butter knife. When we tallied her injuries, we found 57 stab wounds, ligature marks around her neck where he'd choked her to unconsciousness and waited for her to wake up. We found vaginal and anal tearing and her throat had suffered so much brutality her oesophagus had been severed."

  I threw up. I rolled to my side as I lost control of my extremities, emptied my stomach and sobbed for this man's wife. My eyes filled with burning tears, my nose streamed as I purged until there was nothing left but dry heaves and my head pounded with devastation for the stolen children.

  I heard Elias' shoes on the stones beneath me as he approached his prisoner. I raised my head as he took a fistful of hair and pulled his head back. I looked into bloody eyes that flashed with evil.

  "Isn't that right, Sam?"

  Sam laughed, blood-smeared teeth exposed by a sadistic grin. Elias kept his head up and I couldn't look away when he looked at me.

  "Do you still think what we do is immoral?" he asked. "Do you think we should just throw this man in a prison for a few years, with free meals, a gym and time in the sun? Do you think that would bring justice to the people he murdered in cold blood? People who loved him unconditionally, trusted him with their lives, and died so he could get off?"

  I shook my head, tears streaming as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  "Well...?"

  I shook my head again. "No."

  "No. I thought so."

  Elias pushed Sam's head and it lolled forwards again, sticky blood dripping from his mouth as he closed his eyes with a smile.

  "But..."

  "But what?"

  "Who did this to him? You were with me."

  "That's the only question you have?" he barked, shaking his head. "Not 'how many more are there?' or 'how do you find them?' or 'what's going to happen to him?'"

  "What's going to happen to him?"

  "He'll be killed. He will be assaulted everywhere his wife was. He will be strangled like his daughter was, until death is so close he can touch it, and then he'll be brought back. He'll be smothered until his lips turn blue, and then he'll be revived. He w
ill be stabbed...fifty. Seven. Times. He will beg for his life, but he'll be shown no mercy. He will bleed to death, just like Melissa did."

  A sob escaped and I covered my mouth with my hand when it echoed around the prison cell.

  "How did you know? How did you know he was doing this?"

  "We're not all that far from the underground, Trixie." Elias picked up a knife from the table in the corner, dragging the blade across the wooden surface and returning to Sam's side. "Sam was seduced by evil and we were there to watch it unfold. We were too late to save his family, but we knew where to find him. When he didn't show one night, we deployed a team to extract him."

  In a quick flash move, Elias plunged the knife into Sam's side. He cried out, throwing his head back and tugging on his restraints, but he would find no relief here. His chair was bolted to the ground, ropes threaded around his chest and over his thighs, his ankles tied to the legs, his wrists to the arms. Elias slid the knife back out as blood seeped from the wound, and he quickly turned around to gather some gauze.

  "That was number twelve. Forty-five to go."

  "You can't..."

  "Why not?" Elias asked, cleaning the blade on an old rag on the table. "Are you going to tell me two wrongs don't make a right?"

  I didn't know. I didn't know if they did, but surely Sam had to be punished for what he'd done. Surely he had to suffer something other than incarceration for his sins...surely there was something we could do instead of torturing him to his death.

  We...

  "I won't say anything."

  "Good."

  Elias' eyes flashed with pride and he left Sam be, gasping and choking, his eyes rolling back and forth.

  "He won't die from that. It's a superficial wound and the bleeding will slow soon enough."

  "How many are there?" I asked as Elias bent and offered me his hand.

  "A few more than Sam."

  "Who did this to him?"

  He shrugged, grabbing my hand when I took too long to offer it to him, and he dragged me to my feet.

  "A member of the team."

  "Who?"

  "His name is irrelevant. You don't know him."