by Arno Joubert
"Okay."
"And James..."
"Yes?"
"Don't screw this up."
James said nothing.
Sonti jumped up from his chair. Did he need to do everything himself?
Alexa spun around when she heard the door open.
"I see you've managed to infiltrate our little lair," James Rue said with a chuckle. He was holding Nicole Rue by her waist, pointing a gun to her head. "Drop your weapons or I shoot her."
"We all have skeletons in our closets," Alexa said, raising her Glock to James Rue's chest.
Neil frowned, placing his gun on the floor. "You'll shoot your own wife?"
President Nicole Rue tried to pull James' hand from her waist. "Please...,please, do as he says, these people are crazy," she begged, black mascara marks trailing down her cheeks.
Alexa held the gun aimed at James' head. "You don't have the balls to do it," she said with a smile.
James pressed the gun harder into the President's temple. "Wanna bet?" He had a maniacal expression on his face. "I'm gonna blow this bitch back into the presidential graveyard."
"James, wait," Neil said. "I know you're probably tired, let's talk--"
Alexa aimed her gun a couple of inches down and shot the President of France in the leg. "There, I did it. I knew you didn't have the balls."
"What the fuck?" President Rue roared, clutching her injured leg.
Neil's wide-eyed gaze shifted between Alexa and the President of France.
Alexa strode to James and slammed a fist into his mouth, grabbing the gun from him and slipping it into the back of her pants. Neil had a dumbfounded expression on his face.
She laughed. "Stop looking so surprised."
Neil shook his head. "Alexa, you just shot--"
Alexa ripped the wig off Nicole Rue's head. "Neil, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Allan Sonti."
Allan Sonti stood with a grimace on his face, clutching his leg, cursing.
"How did you know?" James Rue asked, licking his bruised lip.
Alexa laughed, holstering her weapon. "You two thought you were so clever, didn't you?"
Allan Sonti sat down with a grimace. "What do you mean?" he asked, taking a ragged breath.
Alexa shook her head in amazement. "You left clues scattered everywhere, like you wanted to be found out."
"Like what?" James asked.
"Do you know what the anagram for Britney Spears is?"
James Rue waved a hand. "I don't know who the hell that is, but amuse us anyway."
Allan Sonti looked up, realization dawning on his face.
"Presbyterian," Alexa said.
"You're a damn idiot, James," Sonti said, slapping the concrete floor. He looked at Alexa. "You knew all this time?"
Alexa lifted her shoulders. "You both like playing scrabble. A couple of phrases seemed odd in those black letters that you two sent."
James lifted his chin, defiantly. "Which would be?"
"Cruel One, I. Taste my wrath in All the Nations," Sonti said. He glared at James. "I wondered why you had put that shit in."
James fiddled with his cuff link. "For dramatic effect."
Alexa chuckled. "I ran it through an online anagram processor. Cruel One I came out as Nicole Rue."
Sonti pursed his lips. "And All Nations decoded to Allan Sonti, right?" He turned to James. "You gave them my name on a plate, asshole. How could you be so stupid?"
The man pursed his lips but didn't say anything.
Alexa swung around as Wayne Rowley stalked into the room, an M-4 rifle pointed at them. "That's all interesting, dolly, but I think we've flapped our traps enough, now." He glanced at Sonti. "Get up, we're running out of time, we need to start initiating the final sequence."
Sonti nodded and pushed himself up of the floor with a grimace. He straightened his dress and held out his hand. "Give me a phone."
Rowley scratched in his pocket and pulled out a cell, handing it to Sonti. "Drop your weapons," he said, waving the rifle between Alexa and Neil.
Alexa glanced at Neil. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Sonti," Alexa said, glancing at Neil.
Neil nodded.
Rowley chuckled. "What are you going to do? I'm afraid you've been outmaneuvered. Check mate, Captain."
Neil pursed his lips, grim determination on his face as he lifted his Glock.
Rowley's gun stuttered, spraying bullets at Neil. Neil tried to step out of harms way, but the bullets ripped holes into his shoulder, chest and upper leg. He leapt forward and grabbed Rowley's rifle, struggling to rip the gun from the man.
Sonti started punching a sequence into the phone, but Alexa grabbed his hand and twisted it out.
She turned to Neil and Rowley who were still struggling, Rowley pinning Neil to the wall, pushing the rifle to Neil's neck.
Alexa tugged Rue's pistol from her pants. "Rowley, stop," she commanded.
He looked back over his shoulder with a sneer. "Screw you."
"Well, okay," she said and fired three shots into Rowley's back. He dropped to his knees with a grunt, slumped onto his side.
"Are you okay?" she asked Neil, rushing to his side, keeping the gun pointed at Sonti and James.
He grimaced and slid down the wall, a smear of blood trailing down the wall as he went down. He clutched his shoulder. "Nope."
She checked his chest. The kevlar vest had stopped most of the bullets, but he had wounds in his shoulder and leg.
"The shit I do for you," Neil groaned.
She pecked him on his cheek, pulled a phone from her pocket and punched in a number. "General, the situation has been contained."
"Thank God," Laiveaux answered. "Backup has arrived. I'll see you in half-an-hour," he said and disconnected the call.
Sonti looked up as he heard someone tap on the bar of his cell door. "Hello there, honey," a burly black guy said. He wore an orange jump suit and had a black stocking over his head.
"Hello there, yourself, big boy," Sonti said and removed his glasses, placing it down on the scrabble board on his bunk bed.
"My name is Rex," the brawny man said.
Sonti stood up and sauntered over to the man. "Sonti," he said, holding out his hand.
Rex shook it.
"I heard you're into cross-dressing." Rex flexed his powerful arms as he spoke.
"I guess." Sonti smiled.
"They say you've had an operation to become a woman."
"I have all my girly bits, yes," he said.
"Well then, you better follow me baby, the Boss wants to meet you."
Sonti followed the man with a swagger in his step. Maybe things weren't going to be as bad as he had first thought. Maybe he could learn to enjoy himself in here. The other inmates cheered and whooped, rattling the doors to their cells as they walked past.
They stopped in front of a cell twice the size of Sonti's. Two men were sitting opposite each other, playing chess. A large white guy with a ZZ Top beard guarded the entrance. "This her?" he asked Rex.
"In the flesh," Rex said with a chuckle.
The man stood aside, allowing them inside.
The two men looked up from their board game. The guy on the right stood up. He wore a denim jacket cut off at the shoulders. His arms were tattooed and muscular. He wore his long hair in a ponytail and he had a neatly trimmed beard. He removed his glasses, folded them up and slipped them into his jacket pocket. "You Sonti?"
Sonti nodded. "Yes and who are you, sexy?" he asked alluringly.
"You know a man called Connor Baxter?"
Sonti shook his head.
The man stood in front of him and folded his arms. He towered over Sonti. "Didn't think you would. He worked at the nuclear power station in Nevada."
Sonti's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, dear. I hope he's all right."
The man grinned. "Yeah, he's fine."
Sonti's hand went to his heart. "Thank god, I thought I was in some trouble there."
"It took some balls to do what you did."
; Sonti smiled. "I used to have those before the operation."
The guy chuckled, looked in turn at Rex and the big guy at the door. "Before the operation, get it?"
They burst out laughing. Sonti smiled sweetly.
He turned to Sonti and the laughing stopped. "Unfortunately, Chuck, my younger brother, didn't make it." He popped a toothpick in his mouth. "He was killed in the blast, a horrible death."
Sonti tried to step back but he bumped into Rex.
Mr. Baxter rolled the toothpick between his lips. "He burned to death. The coroner had to ID him by his DNA."
Sonti swallowed. "I didn't mean to--"
Baxter nodded and two men grabbed Sonti's arms. "Tie him up."
"Look, I'll do anything, please don't hurt me," Sonti begged.
The man laughed. "I bet you'll do anything. First with me," he said and pointed his thumb at the man behind him. "And then with Jimmy, and then Eddy and then Rex."
"Please," Sonti begged.
"And then you'll do it again."
Sonti tried to pull his arms free, but they pulled him to the bunk bed and bound his arms to the legs of the bed. "And once we're done, we're going to kill you if you're not dead already."
"Guards, help, guards," Sonti screamed, thrashing his legs.
A man wearing a uniform popped his head into the cell. "Do we have a problem here, Mr. Baxter?"
"Yeah, we need some help tying this squirming sucker down."
"Happy to oblige," the guard said and held Sonti's legs as they bound him.
"Please, please no," Sonti whimpered.
The guard chuckled as he sauntered out of the cell, greeting the men.
And then Sonti screamed and screamed for the next two hours.
The guard returned at lunchtime. "You gentleman done?"
Baxter nodded. "Yeah, you guys can have him now," he said, zipping his pants and pointing at Sonti's bloodied, lifeless body lying on the bed.
Plage de la Gravette Beach
French Riviera, France
"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" Neil asked, cupping his hand over his eyes. The beach was dotted with suntanned locals lying on blankets beneath colorful umbrellas. Kids were splashing around in the protected tidal pool. Yumi waved at them and smiled. She was trying to build a sand castle and lick a melting snow cone at the same time. Neil chuckled and waved back. He turned to Alexa and squeezed her hand.
Alexa nodded, smiling, deep in thought.
"You look like shit, Captain," Neil said with a chuckle, rolling his wheelchair forward so that he could rest his injured leg on the low wall of the promenade.
She laughed, pulling away the bandage over her mouth. "Speak for yourself, Sergeant."
Neil lifted an eyebrow. "Superintendent, Captain."
Alexa laughed. "Whatever."
People wearing bikinis and swimsuits strolled past, towels flung over their shoulders. They gawked at them and continued looking back over their shoulders after they had passed.
Alexa had to undergo a skin graft on the back of her neck. She sat in the wheelchair, her head covered in bandages. She was ignoring the doctor's advice of staying out of the sun. She needed to be outdoors, if only for a couple of minutes.
Neil's right arm was in a cast, the bullet had shattered his clavicle, and he had to have two bullets removed from his upper leg. He craned his neck stiffly as an attractive blond in a G-string strolled past.
Alexa punched his leg and he winced. "Hey, am I not good enough anymore?" she mumbled through the bandages.
"Ow, shit, be careful," he moaned.
"How are you feeling, Dad?" Alexa asked.
Bruce hobbled to the wall on a crutch and sat down. "Okay I guess. I won't be wearing shorts in the public any time soon, but I'll be okay."
"And you, Laiveaux?" Bruce asked.
"What?"
"How are you doing?"
"Nothing wrong with me, Superintendent," Laiveaux said merrily. "A couple of scratches, nothing too serious."
"Your entire upper body is in a cast, General," Alexa chuckled. Laiveaux had broken ribs and had injured his back when the boat drove over him.
"Nothing wrong with my legs and arms," he said, waddling to Alexa's side. He winked at Alexa and she smiled.
"You never told us what happened at the court marshal, Alain," Bruce said.
Laiveaux lowered himself onto the wall uncomfortably. "Nothing. I managed to call Lazard in time to stop the jets." He turned to Alexa, moving his entire upper body to face her. "Thanks, you managed to stop Sonti in the nick of time."
"Was it only the anagrams that tipped you off, Alexa?" Bruce asked.
She pulled the bandage from her mouth. "I got suspicious the first day in Nicole's office. There were black-rimmed glasses on the scrabble board. Nicole didn't wear glasses, and James had those John Lennon types."
Bruce nodded. "Yes, Nicole always used to moan about her contacts, said it made her eyes red."
"Another thing I found strange was that Sonti always knew where we were, there must have been a mole in the palace. Dumas came clean, and it sure as hell wasn't any of you guys. So that left either Nicole or James," Alexa said.
Laiveaux scratched his chin. "I must admit, Sonti had me fooled."
"There were a couple of other things I found odd," Alexa said.
"Like what?" Laiveaux asked, turning stiffly.
"Nicole smoked, Sonti smoked."
Laiveaux chuckled. "Everyone in France smokes, Captain."
"But not Gauloises without a filter."
They sat there, saying nothing for a while.
"Why did he do it?" Neil asked.
"Sonti was a major shareholder in a company called Blue Sky Ventures. They specialize in mopping up nuclear fallout," Laiveaux said.
Neil turned to the General with a grunt. "How?"
The general lifted an eyebrow. "They have this product that looks like a blue goo which you pour over all the exposed areas. The stuff forms a gel and absorbs all the radioactive molecules. Then you peel it off, roll it up and dispose of it. He would have sold billions of liters of the stuff."
"But how did he manage to become Nicole Rue?" Alexa asked.
The general pushed himself up and almost teetered over as he tried to keep his balance. "That's quite interesting. The real Nicole Rue's parents died in a car crash in Norway in the early fifties. She was only twelve. Guess what their names were?
They looked at him expectantly.
"Carl and Nadia Richter, founding members of GREEFF."
"Sonti was a destitute, his parents had been killed during the Second World War. So when he saw the car crash, he removed the girl's body and buried her somewhere. He took over her persona."
"But she was a girl?"
"He was a good actor. As soon as he turned eighteen he had a sex change operation."
"And James?"
"James was his brother. Sonti brought him over to France a couple of years later."
Alexa sighed, enjoying the rays of sunlight on her hands. "How long have you booked us off for?" Alexa asked, turning to Laiveaux.
"Until I feel that we're ready to start working again," he said, fishing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Why, you want to go back so soon?"
Alexa shrugged. "Ow," she said, touching the sensitive area behind her neck. She would need to learn to keep still for a couple of weeks. "I'm feeling edgy, I guess. I don't know what to do with all this pent up energy."
"Fancy a race?" Bruce asked.
"A race?" Neil asked.
"Me and Alexa against you and the general."
"In the wheelchairs?" Alexa asked incredulously.
"Why not?" Neil asked.
"Because you might fall and break your bloody neck, that's why not, you oaf," Alexa mumbled through her bandages.
Neil glanced up at Laiveaux and smiled. "Well, I can't see you having much of a choice, Captain."
Laiveaux grabbed Alexa's wheelchair and Bruce grabbed Neil's. "Come look, Yumi,"
Neil shouted. "Daddy's going to have a race."
She jumped up and ran to them. "Yippee."
Laiveaux counted on his fingers. "Ready, set," he shouted and sped off.
"Hey that's cheating," Bruce shouted as he raced after them with a hobbling gait, pushing Neil's wheelchair.
Alexa screamed at the top of her lungs as they raced along the promenade, startled people jumping out of their way.
Yumi came running behind, shouting. "Go Mommy, go Daddy."
<<<
Let’s Talk!
I would like to say a very big THANK YOU to all the readers for making Fatal an Amazon Best Seller!
That’s right! Fatal has made me one of the Top 100 Authors in the Romantic Suspense charts on the Amazon Best Sellers list, and I would like to extend my most heartfelt thanks to all of the readers who have made this possible.
Still.
Writing is a lonesome occupation. So I’m going to ask you, my reader, a huge favor.
Please get in touch with me. Write me at [email protected] and tell me what you think, what you enjoyed, and where you reckon I should improve. Hey, I’m no Stephen King or Thomas Mann for that matter, but I do think I spin an interesting yarn, and if you would like to continue on this journey with me, please let me know.
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Arno Joubert
Author of the FATAL Series
Acknowledgments
Writing a novel is lonely, challenging, intimidating, monotonous work. But also extremely self-fulfilling and gratifying, especially when a reader comments on your expert knowledge on a particular subject area.