Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix

by phill syron-jones

  The basement was cool and dark. A mother and her two children scurried across the floor to the wooden coal-cellar door. As Helen Steel reached up she realized she didn’t have the key. She looked round at the small nail embedded into the wall next to the double doors, but it held no key, and she cursed the gardener, as she knew he had often forgotten to put it back. A noise behind them caused the trio to find a hiding space, which wasn’t difficult, as the cellar was long with many rooms branching off it. They listened intently as someone was moving from room to room in search of their prey. The little girl hugged her mother. As Helen looked over to Thomas she could see both fear and anger burning in his expression. She grasped his hand and squeezed it for comfort, and looking up at her his mood lightened a little. Helen looked down and felt a glimmer of comfort in her daughter’s eyes.

  A sickening voice echoed down the hallway, saying: “Come out, I won’t hurt you.” A snigger came next, and she trembled.

  Helen noticed some old barrels leaning up against the far wall. Grabbing Sophie and Thomas she hurried quietly towards them and, lifting one of the lids off, she placed the terrified children inside.

  Sophie clung to her mother, knowing she was protecting them with her own life. “Now,” their mother told them. “You stay in here and don’t move, okay, no matter what you see or hear. You don’t move until the police arrive.” She stared into the glassy eyes of her child, knowing this would be the last time she could do so, then she kissed Sophie on her forehead and Helen took off and passed a necklace to the child. It was a golden locket with a picture of them all. The long golden chain swayed as her hands shook with emotion.

  Sophie grasped the necklace and held it tightly to her, and she stared upwards, fearfully.

  “Thomas,” she told her son. “I need you to look after your sister, okay?”

  His watery eyes stared back at her.

  “But—” She kissed his forehead to stop him saying anything else.

  “You have to be brave. No matter what, you stick together, promise me.”

  The two children reluctantly nodded.

  “I love you, both of you and I always will, remember that,” she said and, tears rolling down her face, Helen replaced the lid.

  As the two children listened with eyes firmly shut, they could make out the heavy breathing of a large man: he panted and snorted like a rhino, and they huddled together in the barrel and tried to make themselves as small as possible. The snorting brute came nearer and nearer, his feet shuffled on the floor. Thomas in his imagination conjured images of the Minotaur from the Greek myths. Then a noise of someone running alerted the beast and the children heard it follow.

  Sophie shook with fear, her body soaked with perspiration; Thomas held her close, comforting himself as well as reassuring his sister.

  Helen Steel managed to get to the dumb waiter and quickly stowed herself into it. She had to go up to the attic and get Elisabeth. The four had parted their ways so Helen could force the large bald man to follow her, giving Elisabeth time to hide or get away, and in turn Helen and the children would get out through the coal cellar doors.

  Moving towards the sound of the footsteps the brute found himself at the dumb waiter. He banged a powerful fist on the wall as he saw the elevator moving upwards, then a calculated evil grin came onto his face and he made for the stairs.

  Steel moved slowly towards the woman, his legs felt heavy, almost impossible to move. Suddenly he crashed to his knees, kicking up a cloud of dust that hung in the pools of light. His face twisted with the pain of seeing his sweet wife lying there motionless. Steel reached out a hand to grab her, his powerful fingers clawing at the distance between them.

  Forcing himself up he dragged himself towards her, tears streaming down his face. His mouth moved but no sound would come from his lips. He was only feet away now but it seemed like miles. Again his body smashed down upon the ancient floorboards. He did not care anymore who found him, he had come here to save her and he had failed. He reached forwards and touched her hair, but his outstretched fingers were unable to grasp her. His body contorted by emotion, he was unable to move, his mind in shock. Carefully he brought his clenched fists up to his face and blew out several deep breaths.

  Closing his eyes he reached forwards, and as his hands fell upon her body he cried out. The animalistic howl wailed through the house, causing the mercenaries to stop and look at one another.

  “The attic!” shouted the blond mercenary, “and be quick!” He was racing up the stairs, and the others followed.

  Steel knelt on the ground holding his wife’s body close to him; his tears flowed as if they’d go on forever. In front of him, out of the shadows, ran a figure. The tears blurred his eyes, until a familiar voice broke through his consciousness. It was his mother.

  “John, behind you!” she screamed.

  A gunshot echoed through the attic. Enhanced by the open space it was more like an explosion. As he watched, his mother was hurled sideways from the impact, blood and flesh painting the large beams behind her.

  Steel watched helplessly as his mother tried to claw her way towards him, reaching out an arm, then he noticed the angry exit wound in her back. The sounds of her wheezing, and struggling for breath burnt into his ears. Then there was a new sound, one of heavy footsteps.

  There was laughter, then three shots rang out. Steel looked down, his body still numb from shock and saw the exit wounds in his body. And then, as he looked down, he saw his wife’s eyes open just before the next shot rang out.

  He heard her scream and then there was silence. He felt the pain of every hit his body had taken. Looking down he saw Helen’s her eyes open, then the cold stare of emptiness filled them. As he watched he saw the last spark of life leave her body just before the next hit. Before he slipped into darkness Steel smelt the foul body odor of a large man, and the sound of the man’s breathing filled his ears.

  “What the fuck have you done, Travis? Santini will have our fucking heads for this, you animal.” The blond Merc was maddened by what he saw. Steel slipped into darkness just as the man laughed and walked off, and his laughter grew louder.

  Steel screamed then woke up. McCall pulled the car back under control after being scared out of her wits by his yell.

  “What the hell was that, Steel?” McCall barked.

  “Sorry, bit of a bad dream,” Steel replied, trying to calm everyone.

  “Really, you think.” Tony was readjusting his seating position.

  Then as Steel looked out of the window he felt clarity. For the first time ever he had nearly finished the dream.

  “We have to go somewhere before we meet the Captain and the others,” Steel said, leaning forwards.

  “Where are we going?” asked McCall, somewhat suspicious and a little bit curious.

  “A place I have got,” John Steel replied. “We have to pick up some stuff.”

  “Where to? You got a bat cave?” Tooms joked, but the smile left him when he saw the expression on Steel’s face.

  “Trust me, look, you will all thank me. If we live, that is.”

  All three of them gave Steel a nervous look.

  SIXTY-TWO

  The night air was warm and menacing and clouds covered the sky. In a multi-story parking complex men in dark uniforms hurried about loading large reinforced carrying boxes into several white vans. On the floor above stood a tall man with blond greased-back hair. He had overseen the labors of his men and now he just wanted to look down upon the city. Soon their business would be concluded and there was nothing to stand in their way. He had heard of the demise of Detective Steel and it saddened him slightly—he had heard so many tales of the man’s valour that he seemed almost like a legend.

  He wore a black suit but underneath it a strange high-necked collar fitted tightly around his throat. The material was the same as the other men wore, but he had had it constructed so as to be more elegant. The breeze blew past his face and he closed his eyes and breathed in the evening air.
Life was good, he thought, as he opened his eyes just in time to see down below a black Mercedes pull into the parking lot.

  Two men with long jackets were in the car as it stopped. As the window rolled down a faint whining sound emitted from the its motors, and a gloved hand came out of the vehicle’s window and flipped open a pass. The large guard waved at his colleague to open the barrier, as the large yellow-and-black metal barrier was raised, and the large guard spoke into his radio, saying, “Sir, Mr Smith has just arrived.”

  The blond man smiled. “Very good.”

  As the Mercedes travelled along the winding path, the driver dimmed the lights of the vehicle, until they reached the floor where the men were busy loading up the vans. The vehicle stopped next to one of the armed guards, and the window came down.

  “Where is he?” requested Mr Smith nervously. The guard pointed upwards then continued with his patrol.

  As the black car got to the designated floor it slid into a parking spot. Four men, including Smith, got out and made their way to the man. Smith noticed he hadn’t even turned round, he just expected.

  “Good evening, Mr Smith.” said the man.

  “Good evening, Mr Jones,” he replied, waving the others away.

  “Your report, if you please.” Smith came up and stood beside him. Smith was at least several inches smaller than Jones. They both looked out over the shimmering view before them.

  “The cop is with Mr Williams, they are er... having a conversation.”

  Jones nodded with a smile. “I want no mistakes, Mr Smith.” His voice was stern and deep.

  Smith nodded. “Don’t worry, Steel is gone, the other cop is otherwise engaged, shall we say. I can’t foresee any problems.” Smith was nervous but didn’t wish to show it.

  “Then let us proceed.”

  Jones turned to Smith and put his left hand onto Smith’s right shoulder and nodded. Walking away, Smith took that as a sign for NOW. With a screech of tires the convoy set ventured through the maze of the garage until they reached the exit, then one by one the five cars and seven white vans set off into the night.

  SIXTY-THREE

  McCall followed Steel’s directions, which led them down several back streets and darkened empty blocks, until eventually they arrived at an old rundown building. McCall observed that in front of it were three roller door entrances.

  “What is this place?” she asked, terrified at what they might find. Steel grinned and took something from his jacket pocket. In his hand he held what appeared to be some kind of car remote control device. Pointing it towards the building he clicked a button and a small red LED light blinked three times, then with a loud metallic bang, the middle door started to roll up.

  “Can you drive in, please?” His words were calm and somewhat amused, probably in anticipation of what they were about to find. As the car rolled slowly into the large space, Steel got out and walked over to a small panel on the left-hand wall, which was obviously a control centre for something.

  Inside the car the others looked at each other nervously. It was dark, apart from the blue glow from the vehicle’s stereo system. Steel selected the fire-alarm button, lifted the fake cover and, holding the remote, pressed another button. A hidden key extended out of the side of the small remote device. Inserting the key into the slot under the fire alarm, Steel turned to the others, nodded, then looked up. He turned the key, and instantly the roller doors came down. And then they began to move: downwards.

  “Hey, where the hell are we going, man?” yelled Tooms in a sudden panic. “Don’t tell me you DO have a bat cave?”

  McCall grinned sarcastically, but that soon faded when she saw Steel’s unnerving grin. All the while, the elevator gave a clang of ancient gears.

  The Captain and the special weapons teams had arrived at the hotel. Black vehicles screeched into position and armed men in black tactical gear burst out of them and moved to the building, weapons held at the ready. The two teams divided: one would cover the back, the other would breach the front, but any action would have to be performed simultaneously. The Captain looked down at the cell phone strapped to his belt, picking it up he saw the caller ID was that of McCall.”McCall, where the hell are you people?” he demanded. “We are all set up and ready to go!” Brant’s voice was quiet but brash.”Hi, Captain we just had to pick up one or two things from Steel’s place,” she replied. “According to my satnav we are about fifteen minutes from your location, Sir, and we will be there as soon as we can.”

  Then they closed the conversation, as the team’s commander signalled that they were ready for the signal from the teams. Captain Brant looked up at the old hotel, and his eyes suddenly grew wide and watery. His heart sank as he realized where they were.

  “Alpha in position,” came the voice came over the speakers in the tactical truck. Inside the command vehicle, they had audio and video feed from all members of the team.

  “Bravo in position,” the Commander replied. “Okay, we are good to go, on my mark... mark.”The two teams used the large metal battering rams to disintegrate the two doors, then the teams moved quickly, making a lot of noise. Team One proceeded straight upstairs while Bravo cleared the lower floors. “Clear, clear,” both teams reported the building safe for the Captain and the others to proceed to enter. Then there was another message: “Sir, we have something on the second floor.” The captain froze for a moment. “In what room?” he asked nervously.”Room 207.”The Captain’s eyes closed tightly: not that room, he thought. Of all the rooms not that one.

  McCall and the others suddenly felt a surge of panic come over them. Tooms leapt out of the car and, as he ran towards Steel, he stopped and his mouth fell open. As they approached the bottom, lights began to flicker on, starting at the entrance and finishing at the end of a long room.

  “What in the name of—” Tooms stopped talking and just stood and stared as did the others. The room was around twenty feet long and twelve wide, the walls were coloured a sterile white and double-sided shelving ran down the centre. The place looked more like a grocery store than anything sinister, but instead of tins of beans and sweetcorn, the shelving held arms of all kinds. This was no hideout, this was an armory. Each shelf held a different type of weapon, next to which different accessories were laid out, including scoped and suppressors. These were arranged so as to match the guns they pertained to.

  Tooms drooled as if he was a child in a candy store as he slowly wandered around, then he grinned as his eye caught a glimpse of the black Ford F-150 Atlas vehicle. “Hey, Steel,” he called out. “I thought this was just a concept vehicle?”

  Steel just shrugged as he headed towards a metal locker, saying: “We can expect to be outnumbered but I don’t believe in being outgunned.”

  McCall stood, her mouth open, nodding her head in agreement. “Steel, what the hell are you getting ready for, the third world war?”

  Steel walked up to a locker that contained several black canvas kitbags, and picked them up and threw them to the others.

  “If you can carry one of these you should take it,” he told them. “What’s in these bags might make the difference between us walking out or being getting carried out.”

  They all knew that the shit was going to hit the fan, and now they felt they had an edge.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Tony, who was picking up MP7 9mm machine pistols and some 5.56 mm assault rifles and shoving them into his bag.

  “We find them, and we bring them down, any way necessary.” Steel seemed calm as he spoke.

  The others packed what they could and put several extras in the trunk of McCall’s car. Steel held a long heavy-looking canvas bag, which he carefully placed in the trunk of his own Ford F150 Atlas along with his other equipment.

  “What’s in the bag, you planning on fishing?” joked Tooms.

  Steel smiled. “No, a spot of hunting may be in order though.” And with that the trunk was slammed shut. They were ready.

  Captain Brant walked up the st
airs slowly. To him, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He passed a group of team members in the corridor, and he seemed to see through them as if past and present were colliding. People’s voices seemed garbled, as though they were speaking from a sealed container, then one voice seemed to get clearer, bringing him back to reality: “Sir?” he said. “Sir?”

  Brant shook his head as a team member grabbed him. “Are you okay, sir?” asked the man, clearly concerned.

  “What?” said Brant. “Yes, I’m okay, it’s nothing.”

  Both the leader of the team and one of its members looked at him oddly.

  “Eight years ago I watched my partner take a sniper’s bullet in this room,” the Captain explained. “So do you think I have a problem with this place? Damn right I do. Will it affect my judgment?. No it will not.”

  Then his voice and stature changed, it became more aggressive, more like his old self. “So what have we got?” he asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “We found a note, Sir, it’s addressed to you.”

  Brant looked firstly at the officer, then using a gloved hand, took the piece of paper. It simply read: Captain Brant; sorry we missed you hope to get you next time. This was written in red wax crayon letters, scrawled as if done by a child. Brant took the note and gave it to the officer, who then bagged it.

  As Brant entered the room, a chill ran down his spine as if a ghost had passed straight through him. The place hadn’t changed in all these years. Brant looked around and sighed, then he felt a presence in the room. He closed his eyes and turned, and, as he opened them, he hoped that he was wrong in his assumption of who the newcomer might be. He was not.

  There holding on to the doorframe stood Detective McCall, and she looked pale and sickly. The team member rushed to her, saying, “Are you okay, Detective?”

  The Captain shot him a sorrowful look. “Son, the man who died was my partner, but he was Detective McCall’s father.” The team member felt awkward and left.