by Steve Liszka
Trying to look as unruffled as possible, he made his way to the door. Before he could get there, another burst of knocks came from the other side.
“Who is it?” he asked casually.
“Nathan, let me in, it’s me.”
Although it was the voice Taylor least expected to hear, he recognised it instantly. He opened the door and ushered Charlotte inside, checking none of his neighbours had seen her arrive. Despite being dark, he could see the ashen look on her face. It was the first time he had ever seen her look her age, if not older.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?”
It took a few seconds before she could bring herself to speak,
“Its Freddie, I think he knows about us.”
Taylor handed Charlotte the mug of tea.
“Careful,” he warned her, “it’s hot.”
She attempted to smile at him, ‘Thank you.’
It was the first thing she had said since making her opening statement.
He stood next to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. It immediately made him feel stupid, like he was a teacher trying to comfort an upset child.
“Are you ok, did he hurt you?”
She shook her head.
Trying a different approach, he knelt in front of her so their eyes met. He placed his hand over hers, careful not to burn her on the hot mug.
“Tell me then, what’s happened?”
“He knows,” she said softly, “I can feel it.”
Taylor tried to stay calm but couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach taking hold. Without meaning to, he gripped her hand a little tighter.
“Why? Did he say something?”
Again, she shook her head.
“You’re going to think this sounds crazy but it was the way he looked at me. There was something in his eyes that told me he knew.”
Taylor breathed a little easier, “Is there any reason for him to think this, have you been acting differently around him? Do you think he found something that could link us?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just him. He knows, I’m sure of it.”
The relief that Taylor initially felt was quickly overtaken by anger.
“So wait a minute.” he was trying to remain calm but couldn’t keep his voice from raising,
“You’re saying you risked coming over here in the middle of the night to tell me that your husband may have some vague idea that we’re having an affair, but he hasn’t said anything about it and there’s no reason for him to be suspicious? Jesus Christ, Charlotte, if he didn’t think something was going on before, he definitely will now.”
“Ow Nathan, you’re hurting me.”
Charlotte pulled her hands away, spilling a little tea over herself and the sofa as she did so.
“Sorry, it’s just I can’t believe this, do you know what will happen to me if he finds out?”
It was disbelief she was now wearing on her face, “What’s going to happen to you? Is that all you care about?”
Taylor gently took the mug from her and placed it on the table. When he returned, he grasped both of her hands within his. Somehow they still managed to feel cold.
“That’s not what I meant. All I was trying to say is that he’s your husband, he’s not going to do anything to hurt you. You said it yourself when we were at your apartment. I on the other hand, could be in some serious shit.”
Charlotte snatched her hands away from him.
“If all you’re worried about is me coming here and incriminating you, then don’t bother. Freddie’s at a meeting in Lake City. He won’t be back until tomorrow and my bodyguards certainly won’t say anything. I pay them too much to tell tales.”
Taylor tried an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, it’s just all this has come as a bit of a shock. I know it’s easy for me to say, but it sounds like you’re being a little paranoid. I’m telling you Charlotte, he doesn’t know anything.”
She attempted to return his smile, but instead, sobs of tears were all she could produce. Her shoulders heaved as she buried her head in her hands. Taylor had no idea how to react, staring at the fragility of the woman he had always assumed so strong.
“What is it?” he asked, afraid to touch her, “What aren’t you telling me?”
Slowly her reddened face reappeared from its hiding place, her eyes now black from where the tears had destroyed her make-up.
“I’m not who you think I am,” she finally said.
Taylor motioned towards her but she recoiled away from him,
“What do you mean?”
She suppressed another sob, forcing her body still, “You don’t know me Taylor. Nobody does, not even Freddie. You don’t how hard it is, living a lie.”
He refrained from answering, thinking about his encounter with Ben earlier in the day.
“Whatever it is,” he said, “whatever you’re keeping from me, it won’t change how I feel about you. I’m sure my secrets are far worse.”
It was Charlotte who now reached over and grabbed his hand.
“Tell me something,” she said, “do you really care about me?”
He brought his head close to hers, “Of course I do, you know that.”
“Would you protect me, if someone tried to harm me?”
“You know I would,” he paused, considering his words, “I’d do anything for you.”
“Do you really mean that?”
She looked up at him and for the first time that night, smiled. Taylor was so used to seeing her usual calm, aloof manner that this vulnerable side, one that he had never seen before, had suddenly affected the way he would look at her forever.
“Yes I mean it,” he whispered, “I love you.”
The words seemed to leave his lips of their own accord. As far as he was aware, he’d had no plan to say such a thing.
She hugged him with all her might, burying her face into his chest. He heard her mumble something and wondered if it was a response to his declaration. After several minutes of holding her in silence, she finally lifted her head and looked up at his face.
“We could go away together, just me and you.”
He started to laugh then realising it was the wrong response, quickly silenced himself. It was too late; she already looked hurt.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just even if we wanted to, where would we go? Your husband virtually owns this country.”
Charlotte wiped at her still-red eyes. If new tears had formed, Taylor hadn’t been quick enough to spot them.
“He’s not a god you know, he doesn’t see everything. If we wanted it enough we could leave. We could never be happy in the City… no-one can.”
Although her words were defiant, there was an air of defeat in the way she spoke. Taylor thought about it for a second, although he knew he was only doing it to humour her.
“If we did, life would be very different. Do you think you could manage with that?”
“I’ve told you before; the money, the lifestyle, none of that stuff matters. If we wanted it enough, there’d be a way.”
They both fell into silence; it was as if now it was in the open, neither wanted to acknowledge the lunacy of their discussion.
“Where have you been?” Charlotte asked, sniffing what was left of her tears away, “I came earlier this evening but you were out.”
He could have lied but chose not to. Even though the information he had was of vital importance to her husband, Taylor knew that if he told her, she would not go running to Freddie with the news. Her interest in her husband’s career was at best indifferent. He knew she wouldn’t care whether he told him or not.
“I went to the Old-Town. I met a man who gave me some important information about the Shepherd. You’ve heard of him right?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, “I may not take much interest in Freddie’s affairs but I’m not stupid. Everyone is talking about him.”
“This person t
hat I met told me where he is. If I tell Freddie, it could be good news for me and even better for him.”
“If?” she said, surprised, “Are you thinking of not telling him then?”
“I don’t know, maybe not. It’s just that he’s holed up in one of the co-operatives. I’ve seen what we do to those places.”
Charlotte rubbed his knee, “If you don’t tell him I’m sure someone else will. Like you said, this could be good for you.”
Taylor laughed, “That’s funny, you’re the second person to say that to me tonight.”
“That’s probably because it’s true. There’s no point in being idealistic for the sake of it.”
“It’s not that,” he answered, “it’s just that I’ve already got enough on my conscience. I think I can do without this one.”
“Well, whatever you decide I’m sure you’ll make the right decision,” she glanced down at her watch, “I better go, I’ve been here long enough.”
Before Taylor could answer, she was already halfway to the door. He reached her just before she could open it.
“So you’re not going to say goodbye?”
Without answering, Charlotte grabbed his face with both hands and gave him a long, lingering kiss that tasted of sweet tea and hope.
“Thank you Nathan,” she said when they finally broke free of each other.
“What for?”
She stroked the rough hair on his head, “Just for being you, that’s all.”
“And don’t worry,” Taylor’s hand was now brushing her face, “Freddie doesn’t know anything I promise you…And even if he did, I’d be there to keep you safe.”
She smiled at him, “Goodnight Nathan.”
He leant towards her for one final kiss but she’d already pulled away, gently closing the door behind her as she left.
Taylor went back to the couch, taking an unhealthily large swig from the whisky bottle. He was now even more confused than he’d been before Charlotte’s arrival, if indeed she really had visited at all. The whole encounter had been so strange and happened so quickly, he began to think it was nothing more than a weird dream induced by the noxious brew he had consumed at Ringo’s.
Chapter 16
Captain Mason used his laser pen to point at the image projected onto the operations room wall. As he moved his wrist in a circular motion, the red dot danced around the perimeter of the quadrant. On the satellite picture, the adjoining buildings that surrounded it cut off a large square lawn cluttered with people and animals from the rest of the world. Somehow it had escaped the worst of the fighting in the Uprisings and apart from one large hole in the roof of the northern wing, was virtually unscathed.
“This my friends,” Mason bellowed, the vain fucker loving the attention of the audience, “used to be St Catherine’s school for girls, once one of the finest preparatory schools for young women in the world.”
He paused for his onlookers to take a good look at the sight,
“Now however, it is home to a growing number of hostiles who are using it as a co-operative. Also, thanks to the information we have been provided by a certain person in the room today, we believe it is where we will find the Shepherd.”
The room quickly filled with half-whispered conversations as the men who would be in charge of the raid took stock of what this meant for them.
“Due to a number of security leaks in recent weeks we decided that this information would not be revealed to you until the last possible minute.”
Mason banged his hand on his desk bringing quiet back to the excited room.
“Gentlemen, today we find the Shepherd.”
Taylor watched as the other officers broke into spontaneous applause.
With Mason’s briefing of the upcoming operation complete, the room quickly emptied. Taylor could already imagine the look of satisfaction on Rudy and the others’ faces when they found out it was them who would be getting the first chance at capturing the City’s sworn enemy. In the corridor he watched as the others huddled around a smiling Sergeant Dyer. High-fives and pats on the back were coming at him from all directions.
“Good job Dyer,” one of them said, “if this don’t get your ass promoted, I don’t know what will.”
“That all depends on what we find at the school.”
Captain Mason gave Dyer a friendly wink. He had followed the men out of the room and instantly caught on to what they were talking about. Taylor felt a pang of jealousy as he listened to the others hand out their praise. If he had played things differently, it could have been him they were offering their congratulations to.
Unlike Taylor, who had been given his rank purely on the basis of his fighting skills, Dyer had got his the hard way. He had started off as a grunt but after serving with distinction both overseas and at home he had proved beyond doubt that he had what it took to make it as a Sergeant. As the other officers walked off, Taylor quickened his pace and caught up with him. Even though they hadn’t done much work together, he had always found the man likeable enough.
“Hey Dyer,” he said as the two fell into step, “nice work on the lead.”
Dyer nodded graciously, “Thanks man.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, who was your snitch?”
Dyer smiled; he had a warm, friendly face. Taylor could see why his men loved him.
“Come on, you know I can’t give up my sources. They’d soon stop talking if they knew I was grassing on my grasses.”
Taylor smiled back, “True, I just thought maybe they’d have some information for me. I could do with some of your luck.”
“Don’t worry,” Dyer chuckled, “your day will come soon enough.”
His hand extended to Taylor who shook it warmly, “Well done again.”
He had wanted to drop Jacob’s name in just to see Dyer’s response but then quickly vetoed the idea. If it was Jacob who had given him the information and Taylor let on that he’d also met with him, Dyer was bound to be suspicious of why he hadn’t gone to Mason first. Knowing that Dyer had once been a resident of the Old-Town himself, he wondered if he’d found the decision to tell Mason a difficult one. Seeing no sign of awkwardness on the man’s face, he thought it was unlikely.
Taylor hadn’t visited the St Catherine’s site in years. He remembered how when he was a kid it was the most regal building in the otherwise far less salubrious area it was located in. The school had been built over two hundred years ago on the town’s border and stood on the highest point in the area. At the time of its creation, lush countryside would have surrounded the grounds on all sides, with its nearest neighbour at least a mile away in all directions. From its elevated standpoint it would have been home to some of the best views of the town below, gripped by the relentless activities of the industrial revolution. No one would have thought that it would end up being a victim of its own geography.
When Triage was put into place and the abandoned tribes from the outlying districts made their way to the City in a fruitless search for food, the school was the first place they would encounter on their journey. As the hungry people massed outside their gates, the owner of the school, a man said to be twelfth in line to the throne, cut his losses and abandoned the place before the hordes gave in to their stomachs and charged the fences. The girls who escaped the invasion were packed off by their parents to a rival college in Dubai; the tropical climate being far better for the health of their traumatised daughters.
Up until the night before, Taylor had assumed St Catherine’s was still abandoned. Even though it should have made an ideal home for its new tenants, after the initial invasion, they had deserted the school and pushed on towards the City. It was as if their collective minds figured the closer to its riches that they were, the more crumbs they were likely to be thrown. In reality it didn’t matter if they were fifty miles or fifty feet from the action. They still weren’t going to get any of it.
Sitting in the back of the Rhino with his team, Taylor could do little else but think of the mission
they were about to embark on. After deciding not to tell Mason what he knew of the Shepherd, he had hoped they would have not been involved in the raid. Now that he was part of it, he at least wanted to make sure that his men conducted themselves properly. Mason had made it clear in the meeting that whilst the Shepherd was to be taken alive at all costs, extreme prejudice could be used on anyone else they encountered. Taylor knew all too well what this meant.
Over the roar of the engine Lennox broke the temporary silence,
“You know, I was watching this thing about the second-world-war last night and it got me thinking.”
The others looked to him with surprise; it wasn’t like him to come out with such musings.
“See, the thing I realised was that our grandparents were one of the only generations in history not to have gone to war. I mean can you imagine that, man has always defined himself by the battles they’ve fought in, but they never got the chance to test themselves.”
Lennox shook his head like he had just received bad news, “It makes me think about my grandfather… the guy never fired a gun in his life.”
He shook his head again and left the sentence to hang in the air.
Doyle tutted, “Yeah that is a shame, he never got to blow anyone’s brains out, the poor bastard.”
“I know,” Lennox agreed, missing the sarcasm, “it’s too bad.”
“Perhaps that’s why he used to touch you in that special way when you sat on his knee,” Spike said casually into his mike, “maybe he was trying to make himself feel like a real man.”
“Fuck off and drive,” Lennox shouted back over the laughter.
When they grew quiet again and he had overcome his agitation, Lennox spoke again, only this time it seemed to be to himself;
“He was worse than a paedo. My granddaddy was a fucking pussy.”
Spike’s crackling voice rang out in their ear-pieces once more,