Acts Beyond Redemption

by S. Burke

  Quentin paced the room, agitated and nervous about what Sheila’s reaction might be when he told her about Afghanistan.

  She was no fool. He knew he’d need to choose his words carefully. His decision to give her an abridged version of his deployment in Afghanistan was made. He could only hope she believed him and would let it go.

  He had champagne chilling and Sheila’s favourite seafood ready. If he made this a celebration, she may not ask too many of her uncomfortably astute questions.

  “So, what’s with the bubbly, and the lobster? Are we celebrating something?” Sheila asked, not attempting to hide the derision in her voice.

  “I hope we will be,” said Quentin.

  “That can happen, darling, if you’re honest with me.” Sheila walked over to him and cupped his balls through the fabric of his jeans, and squeezed gently. Then she ran a fingernail not quite so softly down the centre of his back.

  “Later, honey. Okay?” he asked, much to Sheila’s surprise. “I want to tell you about the scar. The truth- that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “I insist on it. We can’t have lies between us, darling.”

  Quentin opened the champagne and poured two glasses, handing one to Sheila, who barely acknowledged it.

  Quentin drank his as if dying of thirst. He decided it simply wasn’t strong enough. He needed something stronger, he needed to try and relax a little or she would know he was lying or, if not lying, avoiding the whole truth. He found an unopened bottle of Vodka, and drank back an entire glass straight.

  Sheila watched him closely and barely managed to conceal her contempt when she spoke. “It must be something terrible if you need alcohol before you tell me. Look, I’m not saying I will be able to deal with whatever it is, Quentin. But I will try. That’s the best I can do. Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He poured yet another full glass and began. “You already know it wasn’t a car accident that caused this.” He lifted his shirt and traced the scar. “I was deployed in Afghanistan. One of the guys in my unit cracked up under the pressure. He lost it completely. I tried to calm him down and he lashed out with his knife, and this was the result.”

  “Oh, Quentin, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I had no idea you were a soldier. What unit were you in?”

  He replied carefully. “I can’t divulge that, sweetheart. It’s classified information.”

  “What? Why- did you have to do something secretive? Like undercover or something?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “What was it, Quentin? I need to know.”

  “I’m sworn to secrecy, please understand that. I can’t tell you why I was there.”

  “You mean you won’t tell me. Not that you can’t. That’s just ridiculous, you’ve been watching too many spy movies.” Sheila stood and walked away, keeping her back turned. “It all sounds fishy to me. Where did you train? When were you deployed? Where were you deployed? A soldier would know these things. You must be lying, and using the secrecy thing to shut me up. That’s it for me. I’m out of here. You don’t trust me at all.” Sheila remained with her back to him and began crying.

  Quentin was desperate, he couldn’t lose her. “Sheila! Do you remember that outbreak of the virus that killed so many in Afghanistan?”

  “And all those poor horses?” she said.

  “Yes, the horses as well. My team were only a small part of the operation. That’s why it’s so important you say absolutely nothing. Do you believe me?” Quentin begged, “Please, please darling, that’s it, that is why I didn’t tell you. Oh, God, now I have, and you’ll hate me anyway.”

  “Hate you? Oh, my poor darling! You have had to live with that eating away at you for all this time. Thank you for trusting me and loving me enough to share this with me. It will go to my grave with me; I promise you that.” Sheila moved over to where Quentin now sat, sobbing. She took him in her arms and held his shaking body as he wept.

  He remained very quiet for a long while. Then he realized that she meant what she said. She would stay with him, she would be his bride.

  He slept.

  The following morning, Sheila told him she had invited some dear friends of hers here to meet him. She seemed happy and excited at the prospect.

  Quentin was just delighted. Sheila was behaving in a way he guessed most brides-to-be behaved.

  Her friends arrived and he was stunned when he met Clara. She and Sheila could be twins. He didn’t like the two guys much at all, but they were his beloved Sheila’s friends, so he made an effort to put them at ease and make them feel welcome.

  That night Sheila wanted to show him something extra special. When she was certain her friends were asleep, she bound Quentin as was usual. He was excited, happy and looking forward to what was to come.

  It would be the last time he would ever experience happiness.

  Eight days later, he was dead.

  Chapter 26

  Heaven’s Gate

  Present Day

  Sheila called out for Connie as she entered the house. Damn it, where was the woman? Sheila was agitated and ran up the stairs into her room, showered and changed. No contact with Holliday made her edgy, and edgy was not something she could afford to be, not now. Too much was at stake.

  She returned downstairs and headed into the kitchen; the cook jumped, startled. The boss didn’t normally set foot in here.

  “Can I help you, Ma’am?”

  “Where’s Connie?”

  “It’s her day off, Ma’am. Leonard is in charge of the house staff today.”

  “Find him, and tell him to meet me in the library.”

  The cook looked around, hoping Leonard would materialize through a wall. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, Leonard is out.”

  “What the hell! I can’t depend on you people for anything. Where is he?”

  “Um, your friends arrived in the early hours of this morning, Ma’am. They are in their usual cabin; Leonard has taken the supplies they requested.”

  “What? Why didn’t someone wake me?”

  “Your friends insisted you not be disturbed, Ma’am.”

  “Very well. Bring me coffee and sandwiches. I’ll be in the library.”

  Sheila entered the library and crossed to her desk; she picked up the house phone and rang the cabin.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s me. I want you all up at the house, now.”

  “Okay, not all though. She’s gone for a ride.”

  “Jesus! Okay, just the three of you. Now.” Sheila hung up. Gone for a damned ride? She was too casual by far. This was not intended as a holiday or a reward for services rendered. This was business.

  The man in the cabin hung up the phone and turned to his companions. “Her highness wants us up at the house. I’d love to get her alone for just five minutes. She’d not be issuing orders then.” The man was tall, his shoulders broad, his face distorted by a broken nose and thin ugly lips. The hatred in his voice was apparent; they all hated her. They were all afraid of her. They all fantasized about helping her die.

  Sheila phoned the kitchen.

  “Yes, Ma’am?”

  “Cookie, make a cold lunch for five. Serve it in the library in an hour.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Sheila paced the library floor; waiting was not something she liked to do.

  There was a sharp knock and the three men walked in. No one spoke.

  “Fix yourselves a drink, and sit. We need to assess.”

  They all complied.

  Sheila looked them over. They were a happy little group; she smirked at the thought, as they were cold killers with not one redeeming feature in the bunch. As long as they followed orders she couldn’t care less, but they had broken orders with Stuart Alexon. Leaving him unguarded and without a gag was stupid, careless, and dangerous. It couldn’t go unpunished.

  The men sat nursing their drinks and waited.

  The man with the broken nose spoke. “What�
�s happening with the new target?”

  “You will not be involved. This one is mine alone.”

  They all shared a look. “Are we done then?”

  Sheila laughed at that question. “Hardly, Tim.”

  “How many more?”

  “You don’t need to know. Just follow instructions when you receive them. Who gave the order to leave number nineteen unguarded?”

  Nobody spoke. Sheila stood and walked over to where they sat.

  “I asked a question. Tim? Was it you?”

  The man flinched at her tone, relieved that he didn’t have to lie. “No.”

  “So, it must have been her. You two aren’t capable of issuing an order. Relax.”

  Tim walked across to the bar, and mixed another potent martini with hands that shook. Damn, he wouldn’t be in Clara’s shoes for any amount of money.

  “The cabin was extremely isolated, Sheila. The kid stumbled on it by accident,” he said.

  “Are you justifying her actions, Tim?”

  “No. Not justifying, just trying to make it a little clearer, is all.”

  “It’s clear. She disobeyed orders. That’s as clear as it needs to be.”

  Cookie knocked on the door and when instructed she and two of the other house staff carried in the beautifully prepared lunches. They set them down and left without a word.

  Once outside the double doors the junior staff member asked, “Who are they?”

  “Friends of the boss.” Cookie replied.

  “Friends? Who would wanna call that bitch a friend?”

  “Shut up,” hissed Cookie. “You keep your opinions to yourself, hear me? You won’t last five minutes around here if you go talkin’ like that.”

  The younger woman was about to respond, but the look on the cook’s face stopped her. Why was everyone so afraid of this boss woman?

  A short while later Sheila rang through to the kitchen, “Cookie? Is Leonard back?”

  “Not yet, Ma’am.”

  “Have him saddle up when he returns. I want him to locate my friend Clara and tell her I want her back here pronto. Understood?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Lunch was eaten in silence, the three men clearly on edge, and waiting. They each drank more than a few potent mixes, readying themselves for what they knew was coming.

  Craig listened in on the conversation. The bugs he’d planted in the library did a good job. He then labelled, numbered, dated and filed the tape in the small compartment he’d brought with him for that purpose.

  Chapter 27

  FBI Mobile Unit

  Mike woke and sat up too fast.

  His head swam, so he lay back. What the hell? He didn’t have a drink last night. Then memory kicked in … the headache? Yes, that’s right, he acknowledged to himself. I had the headache from hell. Cantrell? Cantrell had given him a shot. He gingerly raised his head again, it felt heavy, and the ache was still playing around the edges, but nowhere near what it had been. He checked his watch, stunned to find he had slept for a solid ten hours.

  He stood and gingerly made his way to the kitchen area. Coffee and a shower first, he would face the team after he felt human again.

  In a trailer parked sixty feet away, Trish lay in her bunk. She was sick at heart at what had happened the previous evening. Everything she believed about her job, and the reasons she became a member of the FBI in the first place, had been called into question in the past twenty-four hours.

  Nigel had been awake for hours. He’d gone for a long run. His head was clear, and his choices were few; he’d need to act and soon. He pulled out his cell; this was the first time in days he’d been alone long enough to make contact.

  Cookie passed on the boss’s orders to Leonard. He was happy to be out riding, and if the lady he was looking for did what she normally did when she went riding in the early mornings, he knew exactly where he’d find her.

  Clara had tethered the horse and climbed further on foot, the waterfall and its rock pool inviting her as always. She stripped off and dived into the clear cold water. Her long black hair fanned out around her as she swam. She duck-dived and resurfaced, the water cleared her head and invigorated her as ever. She swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out, her long, lean, fit and tanned body superb in the dappled sunlight.

  Leonard watched as he often had in the past; this Clara was a beautiful woman. Her startling resemblance to the boss had him and the rest of the staff perplexed. They could be twins. But the boss didn’t treat her any different to anyone else; surely twins would have a bond?

  The facial differences were minimal, except the eyes; this woman’s were dark brown. The bosses were a startling sapphire, and cold as the ice they resembled.

  He watched her as she lit a cigarette and dressed herself, waiting till she clambered down to where the mare was tethered. He called out to her as she remounted.

  “Miss Clara, Ms Harrington asked if you could come on down to the main house, please, Ma’am.”

  “Oh, she did, did she? I can’t imagine her asking for anything, Leonard. She ordered me to come, yes?”

  Leonard knew better than to agree. He simply smiled and waited.

  “Oh, very well. I’ll be there. Thanks, Leonard.”

  “Shall I tell her you won’t be long, Ma’am?” he asked hopefully.

  “Just tell her I have the message.”

  He wasn’t happy with that response, but knowing there was nothing he could do about it, he merely nodded and nudged his mount around and back down to the homestead trail. He wasn’t anxious to pass on Miss Clara’s reply to her summons, but the sooner he got screamed at the sooner it would be over. He hated his boss. With him, hatred ran deep.

  Sheila surprised him; she merely thanked him and asked him to tell Clara she was to meet up with her friends back at the cabin.

  These men thought they were so bad. He smiled. They had cold hearts. In that respect they were just like the boss, although he seriously doubted if she had one at all; she kept it well hidden if she did. He watched her as she mounted Kaiser; the stallion was the only thing he had ever seen her respond to like a human being. She truly loved the animal.

  Cookie was busy preparing meals for the evening when Leonard entered the kitchen.

  “They have gone out to the far cabin again,” he stated.

  “I know. I’m to prepare the food and you are to take it down at exactly seven p.m. Then the usual rules apply. No one comes near that cabin and she’ll be back in a day or so.”

  “I don’t want to even guess what they do out there. Whatever it is, you can bet it’s not good.”

  “Leonard, I wouldn’t speculate amongst yourselves, if I were you.” Clara spoke sharply from the doorway.

  Leonard and Cookie both spun around at the sound of her voice.

  She continued coldly. “The boss lady will not be amused to hear that you are talking behind her back.”

  Cookie paled at the thought and Leonard clenched his fists.

  Clara spoke again. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that little conversation, shall I? I wouldn’t like to get you both in serious trouble; maybe you can repay the favour sometime?” It was a demand more than a request.

  They both nodded and said nothing.

  Clara laughed at the pained expressions on their faces, enjoying the discomfort. “I take it I am required to join my friends?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” said Cookie.

  “Very well. Let’s leave this our little secret, shall we?”

  “Thank you, Ma’am,” they replied in unison.

  Clara fixed them both with a cold stare. “Yes, Ma’am, no, Ma’am. No one around here appears to have acquired a backbone,” she said nastily. Without another word, she turned and left.

  Leonard looked fit to explode, but Cookie put her fingers to her lips and shook her head. She hadn’t heard the front door, which meant Miss Clara was still in the house.

  Leonard hurried outside to have a smoke. He hated this dog’s lif
e, and hated the head bitch with a passion. He only hoped his usually volatile nature could continue coping with the insults he was forced to deal with. He’d be relieved when this job ended; the sooner the better.

  Clara wasn’t concerned. Sheila liked her and relied on her a great deal. She took her own sweet time showering and applying makeup before making her way on horseback out to the far cabin.

  This was a great spot. The isolation and its invisibility, being off any of the marked trails, ensured she and her companions were always undisturbed. None of the staff dared come here without a specific order to do so.

  Cookie had already delivered the meals as ordered in a location two miles from the cabin. One of them would be there as always to collect the food. Clara passed Cookie on the way to the cabin, driving the all-terrain vehicle back to the homestead.

  Clara didn’t bother to knock; she strolled in and headed across to the bar before acknowledging any of those present.

  “Hi, all. What’s for dinner?”

  “Roast pork,” Sheila responded with a smile. “Tim’s favourite."

  “How nice. Is it a special occasion?”

  “No, just thought you may all like something apart from pizza for a change.”

  Clara looked at her, and then glanced at the three men. Everything seemed fine, they were relaxed and readying themselves for the meal. Clara felt a trill of fear. What was happening? The atmosphere was almost too relaxed. Sheila was smiling. Sheila never smiled.

  “Do we have a problem?” she asked.

  “No, Clara, no problem at all. A minor irritation we’ll talk about after dinner. Let’s enjoy Cookie’s marvellous meal, shall we?” Sheila waited till everyone was seated and set their plates in front of them. “Enjoy the meal, and I have made certain Cookie included your favourite apple and raisin sauce, Clara, and extra crackling for you, Tim.”