Without You I Have Nothing

by J A Scooter

  Having dressed in a sarong and a Baju Melayu (a loose, long-sleeved Malay shirt) he returned to the lounge room where he knelt before the altar, his head bowed in prayer. Then he stood, turned toward the twins and silently stared for what seemed an eternity.

  Jennifer, terrified by the look on his face and the fire in his eyes, knew that ‘The Little One’ was awake after a long sleep. His donning of Asian clothing only reinforced this knowledge. Finally, Peter broke the silence.

  “The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep and there shall be one fold and one shepherd.”

  He gathered up the pictures of his parents and the Regimental Plaque. Peter then placed them on the coffee table, facing the twins.

  Taking the two Kukris from the plaque, he unsheathed one of them. His mind was back in his childhood and he knew that Gurkhas always kept their Kukris honed to razor sharpness and never unsheathed their distinctive weapon without drawing blood. With slow intent, he nicked his thumb, drawing a little blood as he lovingly stroked the blade.

  The little cigarette box was opened for Andrew’s inspection.

  “Andrew, you are looking at death.”

  Accepting the accuracy of that statement, Jennifer shuddered, understanding that ‘The Little One’ was here in the room with them.

  “These people are my concern, not yours. They have done or intend to do something to my own sweet love, the woman I want to be my wife. They have also threatened you, whom I now consider a friend. That is something I cannot ignore and I will not ignore! Tonight you will do exactly what I tell you and you won’t question what I’m doing. You’re not involved and you will never know anything. These people will be dwelling in hell before the sun rises.”

  Both Jennifer and Andrew shivered at the icy tone, the honest statement of fact. They knew those men would be dead before the night was over - this was no idle boast of Peter’s.

  Turning to Jennifer, Peter lifted her to his feet. Holding her, he looked at her steadily.

  “The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep and there shall be one fold and one shepherd,” he repeated. “I am that shepherd Jennifer, and you are my dearly beloved sheep and no wolves will hurt you. Now pack some clothes in a case and add some of mine for your brother. You need enough for the weekend for you both”

  He kissed her lightly then let her go. He had a quick phone call to make.

  Still too shocked to realize much of what was happening, Jennifer did notice, however, that Peter packed a tailor’s dummy and a red wig into a second case before they entered the lift.

  Jennifer’s car arrived at the door of the condominium complex just as they stepped out of the lift in the entrance court.

  Not the least disturbed by Peter’s Asian clothing, security immediately surrounded the car before the three ventured outside.

  Andrew sat in the back and Peter drove. Jennifer was beside him and, at Jennifer’s feet, Peter placed the second case containing his gun, blowpipes and Kukris wrapped in clothing. The case of clothing was on the seat beside Andrew.

  Peter watched the other car immediately pull out and try to overtake them. He could only grin as he made the Mini fly until they were safely inside the workshop.

  Assisting Jennifer upstairs, he told her to stay there no matter what happened while he and Andrew busied themselves with the truck that Peter was to deliver to Bathurst - making it ready for what was to become a most interesting trip.

  Peter kept an eye on the glass windows of the office and was amused to see one of the tattooed men watching their activities carefully. Only then did Peter close the shutters over all the windows. There was no point in alerting the criminals to their plans.

  Handing his gun to Andrew, he gave strict instructions to guard Jennifer and to shoot to kill. Laughing at Andrew’s discomfort, he also handed him his Kukris, explaining, “This is not a man’s work tonight, it’s just child’s play. I’ll be dealing with three idiots.”

  Impressed by Peter’s thoroughness, Andrew was silent as he watched carefully. Then he assisted Peter in rigging four powerful floodlights behind the driver’s cabin and watched while Peter focused the glare of the lights through the windscreen of a car that he parked a measured distance behind the truck.

  Andrew said nothing but knew that as soon as Peter switched on the lights the sudden intense glare would blind anyone driving a car behind the truck. One thought obliterated all others in his mind - the conviction that these men were dead men walking.

  Peter was just too methodical and too intent on what he was preparing to harbor any fears. He knew what he was doing and was showing his experience in killing.

  Turning to Andrew, Peter asked him to stay downstairs while he went up to Jennifer. Carrying the case from the car Peter paused, looking back at his handiwork. Satisfied, he continued towards the staircase.

  Upstairs, Peter hugged Jennifer. Emotionless now, he changed into a pair of overalls, leaving his Asian clothes on the bed as he gave his orders. They sounded cruel, but she was to stay the night with Andrew at the workshop.

  “Tomorrow you will ask Joe to get the newspapers. Read them carefully. I tell you now that I love you with all my heart, and for the third time I repeat, ‘The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep and there shall be one fold and one shepherd.’“

  While talking, Peter opened the case, removed the pieces of a mannequin and began assembling it. Jennifer could only watch in amazement. Studying her in the same way as an artist studies his model, he carefully placed a red wig on its head.

  Peter then asked Jennifer to remove her dress so he could put it on the model. She was shocked but did as directed, changing into a dress from her case.

  The mannequin was finally dressed and he applied make-up to its face until he was satisfied that it looked like Jennifer.

  As he turned to leave with the mannequin in his arms, Jennifer hugged and kissed him.

  “Never forget that I love you. See you soon, God willing. Stay here and try to sleep.” Peter's words were intended to be thoughtful and caring.

  “Peter, take care, as my future goes with you.”

  “Why are you carrying Jennifer?” Andrew’s question assured Peter that the mannequin was lifelike as he sat it in the passenger’s seat.

  He strapped it in place so it couldn’t move, but, as a touch of realism, he carelessly draped one of the mannequin’s arms on the door. It seemed as though the real Jennifer sat there, eagerly looking forward to the trip.

  He slipped on a pair of welding gloves while he spoke to Andrew.

  “Andrew, when you open up, I’ll drive out. Keep my gun handy in case of accidents. Follow me out. Climb up and lean in through the window to kiss your sister goodbye. Don’t forget to shout, ‘Have a good trip, Jennifer, and don’t let that ruffian misbehave.’ or words to that effect. Remember I am driving off with your sister.

  “Come back in and lock up. Go upstairs and keep Jennifer there until Joe, Mark and all the workers arrive in the morning. Tie her to the bed if necessary. There’s lots of food and drink. Say a prayer or two for me.

  “Under no circumstances let Jennifer answer any phones or leave.”

  Silently, Andrew could only nod in agreement and stare at this incredible man who was driving off to kill three criminals. He couldn’t believe that Peter was preparing their deaths so cold-bloodedly.

  Showing no sign of nervousness or strain, Peter climbed into the cabin and the engine roared into life.

  Waving goodbye, Andrew shouted after him, “Enjoy the trip Jennifer but don’t let that man sweet talk you into anything.”

  He watched the truck as it disappeared up the hill with that car closely following before he turned to lock up and retrace his steps up the stairs.

  Andrew could hardly believe that the face that greeted him, so drained of color, belonged to his sister.

  “Peter has just driven off and the criminals are following him.” Before he could finish Jennifer leapt for the stairs.

 
Moving more quickly, Andrew, grabbed her. Dragging her back into the room, he clapped his hand across her mouth to stifle her distressed moan. “Stay here, Jennifer, stay here. It’s Peter’s wish, and if you leave, you may put him in even more danger. He wants you safe, so do as he asked.”

  With her hair falling across her face, Jennifer sagged onto the bed and wept into her hands. She prayed that Peter would be safe - he just had to be safe - she loved him far too much for it to be otherwise.

  Andrew and Jennifer talked far into the night. He admitted that Peter had certainly surprised him with his gun and the ‘box of death’, as Peter had called that special little case of his. Staring at his sister, he was almost demanding an answer to his unvoiced question. His mind could only wonder about the reasons for Peter having those weapons and why he knew death so well. He couldn’t help concluding that Jennifer loved a criminal.

  Her eyes dropped before her brother’s steady gaze. She was tempted to tell him of Peter’s history.

  Remembering her promise on this subject, however, she remained silent. Instead, turning to her brother, she announced, “I intend marrying that man. I’ll have his children and together we’ll make our way through life hand-in-hand. There is nothing you, nor Mum nor Dad will say that can ever change that.”

  So strident and vehement was she that Andrew could only answer softly, “Jennifer, all we want is your happiness, so forget that we will stand in your way. He loves you and you love him. Past history doesn’t matter at all. It’s the two of you - your life and your future and, frankly, I’m so pleased because he sure is someone special.” He covered her with a blanket.

  Eventually she drifted off into a restless sleep.

  In the truck, Peter could hear the engine’s sweet song. He pressed the controls and the windows slid silently upwards until he and the dummy were safe in the cocoon of the cab.

  No need for tablets tonight, he was burning with a red-hot anger. He watched that car dart in and out of the late night traffic, keeping a respectable distance behind him as if trying to disguise the fact that it was shadowing him.

  Eventually, at the old township of Windsor, the traffic had dwindled so there was just that one car and the truck heading westwards. Peter began thinking ahead to where they would make a move. His mind raced to map the road through the mountains and he decided that he would make it as difficult as possible for them. That poor little car would find the pathway very rocky indeed.

  Accepting the plan, he decided it was time he acted upon the first stage. Braking suddenly, he watched the car swerve and skid, trying to avoid a collision. Then he accelerated quickly, leaving the car floundering in his wake. Laughing, he knew their frustration would be building.

  As if annoyed by their following him, constantly he repeated the maneuver, their high beam glaring in his mirrors. Through the tight corners up through Kurrajong he rocketed, as though driving a racing car.

  The car behind struggled to keep up.

  As the first overtaking lanes drew closer, he watched the car move out to pass.

  Lazily he let the truck drift across into the same lane and savored the result when he heard a harsh honking on the horn and looked down to see the lights in the car interior switched on and fists waved at him.

  The car dropped back.

  Knowing that their road rage was building and would hamper their planning, Peter smirked and ruthlessly plotted the next step. Repeatedly, the car pulled out to overtake and every time Peter allowed the truck to drift across and block them. The flashing of their lights and the blasts on their horn did nothing other than make the truck roar off into the distance, leaving the car floundering in its wake.

  Suddenly Peter realized the weather had changed. It had begun to rain. Grinning, he knew that the gods were about to assist him. The rain slashed down and the truck just ploughed its way through the mist and downpour splashing through the water across the road. Peter knew the truck was better equipped to cope with severe weather than was the car. Ahead loomed the Mount Tomah sign - ‘Mount Tomah Overtaking Lane 5 kms Ahead’- and he knew the time had arrived for the game to end.

  As he approached the long, winding ascent, he slowed and slowed as though the truck was finding the grade a little steep and he could imagine the excitement and the licking of lips as the three were thinking of finally catching up and getting their hands on Jennifer.

  His years of studying psychology told him the people in that car had only one thing on their mind - what they would do to Jennifer and that thought was clouding their rational thinking.

  They were incapable of believing they were driving into a trap and death. Convinced they were indestructible, they believed the punishment they would hand out to Jennifer was their God given right.

  As there were three of them and only one driver with the woman they would have no problems with the rape and two murders. They would never consider that the driver of this truck held their lives in his hands.

  Peter was ready.

  The overtaking lane seemed to rush up though the darkness and the rain. Giving them plenty of room to make their move, Peter watched in the mirror as the two windows on his side of the car rolled down and he saw two guns pointed at the truck. He heard ‘pop, pop, pop’ and felt a sting in his right leg as at least one bullet struck him. At the same time, the truck hurled itself ahead of the car and Peter switched on the floodlights to blind the driver.

  The steep corner marking the end of the overtaking lane rushed into view and the truck rocketed around, all tires screaming their torture as they clung tenaciously to the road. Not so lucky was the car as it plunged head-on into the rock wall to explode into a huge fireball.

  A single shrill scream for help quickly faded.

  The truck skidded to a stop and Peter climbed down from the cabin and ripped the wires from the floodlights. He grabbed the fire extinguisher from its mounting, and taking the switch, the wires and his packet of darts with him, he tossed them into the ferocious fire as he played the foaming jet of the truck’s fire extinguisher uselessly over the flames.

  The sound of a siren broke into his thoughts just as the full realization hit him that his right shoe was full of moisture yet he knew he hadn’t stepped into a pool of water. Slowly he crumpled to the ground. Unconscious, he knew nothing of the arrival off the police, the rescue services, the fire brigade or the Care Flight Helicopter that carried him to hospital.

  Daylight arrived.

  Jennifer and Andrew woke to the sounds of Joe roaring as he came up the stairs.

  “Where the hell are you Peter, and where the hell have you hidden the Bathurst truck?” Joe stood staring unbelieving and stony faced when he saw the two of them through the doorway of the flat.

  “What are you two doing here?” Joe did not pause for an answer. “What’s the stupid bastard done this time?” He threw the two morning papers on the table. “Look at the headlines and the pictures!”

  Jennifer and Andrew just looked at each other, amazed. It was how Peter said it would be. Getting no reply and still furious, Joe stomped back downstairs.

  Andrew grabbed one paper and Jennifer the other.

  ‘MOUNTAIN ROAD CLAIMS MORE VICTIMS’ screamed one paper, and the photo showed the burnt out wreckage of a car with the truck in the background. The other was more bloodthirsty and the photo more graphic as it showed Peter sprawled on the ground with the fire raging in the background.

  Jennifer screamed and fainted.

  Joe reached for the phone and dialed the yard boss of the Bathurst trucking company. “What did you say? Are you mad? Bathurst Police will tell you nothing,” and he broke into Italian.

  The twins couldn’t follow the conversation.

  “What a mess, what a bloody mess. Yes, I will make those arrangements. Thanks for the information.” Joe hung up and stared at Andrew. His stance was that of a beaten man.

  Slowly he shook himself before helping Andrew to lift Jennifer onto the bed. Yelling to the rest of the team downstairs,
“Put all calls through up here,” he sat and waited for Jennifer to recover.

  Slowly, she sat up, and with slow unsure steps, joined them at the table.

  Raiding Peter’s store of alcohol, Joe poured three small glasses of brandy and placed one before each seat before speaking.

  “I won’t ask what you know of last night’s events because I know Peter wouldn’t have wished you to know anything in the first place. That call was to the boss of the trucking company in Bathurst who’ll be ringing back very soon with more news.

  “Bathurst Police had phoned him. They have impounded the truck, as there had been an attempted armed hi-jacking. He could give no other news as the police would say nothing until they had contacted the next-of-kin.”

  His eyes welled as his worry for Peter overcame his thoughts, but he put on a brave face as he tried to lighten the situation.

  “Hey Jennifer, you know Peter is a tough bugger. He really is and you know he loves you so don’t give up on him, okay?” He tried to sound brighter than he felt.

  Silence!

  They each took a small sip of their brandy.

  It was deathly quiet until Jennifer banged her glass on the table, spilling brandy over her hand and onto the timber surface.

  “Why have I been so damn stupid with him?”

  They sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts, each face etched with the anguish in their hearts.

  The phone rang and Joe jumped to answer it. “Oh, yes. Yes. Yes. What? They can’t tell you even now? What the hell is going on?”

  Again, he broke into Italian before continuing the conversation. Eventually, conversation ended, he turned to the twins.

  “The news is both good and bad. Three people died in the accident and a chopper lifted out the fourth one with bullet wounds. My guess is that the fourth one was Peter, but only time will tell and we can pray hard that it was him. He still has some trucks to deliver and he never leaves a job undone.”

  Heart-rending sobs met his pitiful attempt to lift Jennifer’s spirits.