by Simon Leigh
The place was a comfortable contrast from the bitterly cold wind, though the heating must have been on for some time as the warmth she previously felt soon changed into a smothering blanket. An unnerving silence trickled throughout the house. She feared the worst. Lucy’s parents should be there. She knew they didn’t go out very often and who in their right mind would leave a warm house for the harsh cold when they didn’t need to? After the week she’d had so far, this was just another log on the fire.
Along the stone floor, the bloody footprints moved deeper inside, fizzling away on the carpet in the front room. With her gun held tight in both hands, she moved forward.
Each step was a loud, slow clock ticking over, stopping at the carpet’s edge where a large living room stretching the length of the house awaited her. It held the usual items expected in a living room: a TV, sofa, table, stereo, and pictures on the wall. Everything had its place, whether neatly tucked into a draw or on a shelf somewhere. Being so tidy gave the room a spacious yet soulless character.
She moved to the wooden staircase, which disappeared up along the far wall, aiming her weapon up into the darkness. Careful to avoid the squeak from the dated wood, she took each step slowly, placing her feet at the edges of each one until she reached the top. The hallway was dark with four doors: two along the right, one on the left, and one at the end for the bathroom. The door closest to her on the right spilled unnerving white light into the hallway.
Entering the room, she found a flickering TV with the sound off. The bed was covered in blood.
‘Oh my God,’ she said. There was blood everywhere, the remaining corpses of Lucy’s parents sprawled out on the bed.
Fuck.
She left the room and stopped in the hallway to think. Other than go to the cops, she was out of options.
Shit, where are Lucy and Chloe?
The bathroom door at the end of the hall opened. She didn’t see or hear it. A gunshot fired, missing her and finishing in the wall. She bolted back to the stairs, firing back and dotting the door with bullets.
‘You Valerie?’ a man’s voice yelled.
She scurried down with heavy footsteps in the hallway bounding after her. Racing for the exit, more bullets whizzed by her, smashing the glass in the door. She took cover by one of the kitchen units and waited for him to come after her, her heart pounding as she fumbled to check the gun in her hand. Two shots remaining.
Shit.
‘Are you Valerie?’ he asked again from the living room.
‘Fuck you.’
‘We need to talk.’
‘I’ve done enough of that today.’
‘Valerie, you need to come with me.’
The words were empty. She wasn’t listening.
‘Whatever, I’m leaving.’ She fired one of her last two shots at him around the corner and opened the back door.
The snow had gained momentum, reducing visibility greatly, but that didn’t concern her. What did were the five men standing in a line with M16 assault rifles pointing at the house.
‘Valerie!’ yelled the voice behind her before she was hauled back inside and the door was slammed shut.
She swung around, catching the guy on the side of the head with the revolver. He fell and she jumped on him, jamming the gun in his face. ‘Tell me who the hell you are!’
‘Please don’t shoot me.’
‘You shot at me first you son of a bitch.’ She hit him. ‘Who are you? Three seconds.’
‘All right, all right. I work for Rodriguez.’
‘Who the fuck is that?’
‘Rodriguez, he used to work with Matherson.’
Wow. Seventeen years ago she last saw him. She was told he died on the line of duty. Now that was bullshit too. Was nobody dead?
‘Rodriguez died. Tell me the truth,’ she said, kneeing him in his gut. His cell phone fell out of his pocket. She picked it up and smashed it on the floor.
‘Hey, if I don’t check in someone will come looking for me.’
‘Dead people don’t use cell phones,’ she said.
‘Look, Preston has Lucy and he murdered her parents. We don’t have time for this.’
‘And you work for Rodriguez? You’re all full of shit. It’s just lie after lie and I’ve had enough. You work for Preston don’t you?’ She kneed him again and pointed to the back of the house. ‘Are they with you?’
‘I don’t know who they are,’ he said, clutching his side.
‘Tell me the truth God damn it.’
‘I am. I can prove it.’
She dared a peek outside. They were still there waiting for something. ‘Tell them to leave so I can go.’
‘Valerie, we arranged for the truck to smash into the cops chasing you.’
‘What?’
‘The cops chasing you earlier today, we arranged for the traffic lights to go out and the truck to hit them so you could escape. We have people in the security hub. Look, I’ve been on Bill’s tail for a long time, even before you met him. We know he works for Preston. We know everything. We know you’ve not done what the media are saying. We did what we had to so we could to help you.’
‘Help me? Where were you when Bill took me to that house? Where were you when we went to Ada’s house?’
‘I lost track of you.’
‘You’re not helping me at all.’ She picked up his gun, emptied it and dropped it on the ground. ‘Do you even know why Bill works for Preston?’
He didn’t answer her.
‘I’m going to walk out of that door now, tell your men to stand down.’ She opened the door.
‘Valerie, no!’ he screamed as they opened fire.
She hit the ground with a spray of bullets peppering the kitchen, cutting through everything in its wake. Glass and smashed tiles littered the floor, covering her.
‘Jesus Christ,’ she yelled.
‘Keep down,’ he shouted, grabbing his pistol. After reloading it he shot back blindly through the windows. The bullets kept on coming.
She belly crawled her way over the carpet and to the stairs with him in tow.
Then more shots fired from the front slamming into everything.
Then it stopped.
‘Why have they stopped?’ she asked.
‘To reload.’
Another wave came thrashing through, tearing the house apart.
They made it to the upstairs hallway, taking cover in a bedroom beside the one with the bodies. It was Lucy’s childhood room, kept in pristine condition like lots of parents did to keep hold of the memory of a once young and playful girl now grown up and flown the roost.
‘Will you come with me, please? Rodriguez can arrange for your safety.’
‘You shot at me.’
‘I wasn’t sure who you were, and for that I apologize.’
‘Shove your apologies.’
‘We have Cook.’
‘What?’
‘Look, Cook isn’t who he seems either.’
She looked out at the front lawn. The snow continued to fall and the bullets kept on coming into the house below. There was nobody else on the streets, curtains were drawn and lights were out, almost as if the gunfire had made everybody disappear. She counted five people in all at the front and five at the back. Ten people she and this stranger had to deal with.
‘They must think we’re still downstairs. What did you bring with you?’ he asked.
‘Just this revolver and an empty Beretta.’
Then the shooting stopped. Not just for reload this time. She looked out and watched them methodically march towards the house, keeping in a perfect line. She wasn’t scared. After the day she’d had she didn’t really feel anything. But she was trapped again. Trapped in another bedroom in another strange house.
First they heard the back door being kicked open, and then the front.
‘They’re coming,’ she said.
Shit.
Beneath them were the inaudible sounds of their attackers.
‘We’ll
just have to hold them off. We have the advantage up here,’ he said. ‘You take the bathroom down the hall and I’ll take this bedroom. We’ll pick them off in the crossfire, OK?’
‘That’s the best we’ve got?’
He nodded.
He was right. She couldn’t exactly go through the window this time.
‘I’ve only got one round left,’ she said.
He reached into an ankle holster and pulled out another gun. A smaller one, a revolver, not much bigger than the one she had but used the same ammo. He emptied it and gave her the rounds. She reloaded and headed for the bathroom.
She pushed the bathroom door closed, leaving just enough room to see along the hall, watching her new friend do the same thing in the bedroom.
The men were hunting downstairs. Angry exchanges between them were heard and she knew it wouldn’t be long until they were bombarding her with bullets. She figured maybe thirty seconds.
It didn’t even take that long. Torch lights from their weapons shone from below, bouncing off the walls like thick spotlights until one of the men appeared, shining his light in her face through the gap. He’d seen her and she knew it. He fired a three round burst through the bathroom door. Before he could fire anymore, he was dead, caught off guard by the other guy.
Thank you.
Another one came up. He was dead before both feet were on the hallway carpet.
There were too many for both of them to hold out. Valerie’s advantage was she hadn’t fired her gun.
The bathroom window was too small for her to climb through so she’d just have to wait until he’d picked off as many as he could and then rely on luck for the rest.
From the road, a vehicle screeched to a halt. He was right. If he didn’t check in they would come. The side doors of the van parted and a barrage of bullets raged out like horizontal metal rain wrecking the already battered house beneath her. Screams and blood curdled wails haunted the downstairs rooms until everything came to a complete silence.
‘Valerie!’ shouted the guy.
She opened the door.
He was down the hall ready to leave. ‘We need to go. Rodriguez sent backup.’
‘Wait, how do you know they’re his guys?’
‘I recognize the van. Come the fuck on.’
She went with him.
The downstairs was a total mess. The house was an unrecognizable bloodbath. Corpses dotted the carpet leaking blood everywhere. Some of the faces were young, just boys really.
Rodriguez’s man picked up the phone that Valerie smashed in the kitchen. ‘Can’t leave this behind.’
Another person appeared in the doorway. ‘We need you two out of here, now. Take your car and go to the warehouse, it’s safe there. Rodriguez’s orders. We need to be out of here, the cops are on their way.’ He left them and the van sped off.
‘You coming?’ the guy asked her.
‘Well I’m not staying here.’
CHAPTER SIXTY TWO
Lucy, Chloe, Matherson, and now Bill were silent in the ragged soundproof basement. Bill cleaned his busted nose, wiping what he could on his sleeve while pacing back and forth. Everybody else was staring into space. Lucy’s face had stopped bleeding but now held the evidence of a torturous few hours as she cradled a tired Chloe on her knee. Matherson looked relaxed, like he’d accepted his fate.
Bill broke the silence, kneeling beside Lucy. ‘I thought you were going to your parents.’
‘We were taken as we got there,’ she started, wiping her eye. ‘There were men inside the house, they’d just...they’d just shot my parents and before we knew what was going on we were attacked and brought here.’
‘I’ll get you out of this, both of you.’
‘I know you helped me and I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. They made me tell them what you did for me.’
Matherson watched them.
Bill looked at her face; she hadn’t given in easily. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘I don’t understand what they want with us. We didn’t do anything.’
Bill didn’t know the answer to that.
She looked at him. ‘They didn’t tell me how you’re involved in all this.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘You dumb bitch,’ Matherson said. ‘He works for Preston.’
Lucy looked at him, and then looked at Bill. ‘What?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Bill replied. ‘He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’
‘I know what I’m talking about. It makes sense now. You’re the pig cop Sharpe told me about, only, you work for Preston.’
Bill didn’t say anything.
‘Tell me!’ Lucy demanded.
‘I can’t.’
‘You son of a bitch.’ She wiped her last tear away and shouted: ‘That bastard Preston killed my son! I deserve to know.’
‘Lucy, I can’t.’
‘You can’t or you won’t?’
‘I won’t.’
‘Damn you,’ she said.
The silence in the basement was there to be heard, like a quiet erupting volcano.
‘So what happens next?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘What happens next? You’re the inside man. You’ve got the experience.’
Matherson interrupted, ‘We’ll all probably be killed. You, Bill, Chloe, and Valerie. All of us killed. You’ll be raped, then Valerie will and maybe Chloe. Where is Valerie anyway?’
‘She’s safe,’ Bill answered.
‘No she isn’t. I’m pretty sure we’ll be seeing her in here with us in no time.’
‘Shut up old man,’ said Bill.
Chloe began to cry.
‘Hey, I’m a realist. Look where we are. We’re trapped in a soundproof box with a crazy Russian guarding us and an insane mother fucker with his hand on the trigger. My advice is to just take it and give up.’
Bill had heard enough. He walked over and sent a right hook into Matherson’s face. ‘I said shut up.’
Shaking his head, a defiant Matherson said, ‘You know I’m right.’
The door opened and Lenka walked in. ‘What is going on in here?’
‘Lenka, let us go, please,’ Bill pleaded.
‘I think not.’
‘You were one of my best,’ said Matherson.
‘Now I’m Preston’s best. He always took care of me. You are just an old man now, Mr Matherson.’
‘I thought you’d died.’
‘See how stupid you are. Now shut up, all of you. I don’t want to come in here again.’
Bill said, ‘Please let us go. The child and Lucy had nothing to do with this.’
‘You, my friend, will never see the light of day again.’
CHAPTER SIXTY THREE
It was happening tonight at 22:30 in a ground floor conference room at The Truman Building under the guise of a company party. Baker and McGowan were standing at the front of the squad room with the attention of twenty officers trained on them, going over the plan of attack for tonight. These were twenty of the most carefully selected men from the precinct, men who joined the force after the reshuffle with no link whatsoever to the past troubles of the city. Behind Baker and McGowan, a white board showed a blueprint of The Truman Building. Flipping it over displayed all the information they had on Matherson and his organization, set out like a family tree with Matherson at the top, then Jackson below, then Bill and Valerie and other links shooting off from either side of those two – Freddie, Ada, and Sharpe.
‘We have a matter of hours left to get this right. We need men to evacuate part of the building without causing a riot. Matherson won’t be there, but his closest men will. We’ve been after this asshole for too long now, we don’t want to mess this up. Visibility outside will be poor and there will be hundreds of civilians in the Christmas spirit. We all know of the city’s reputation for nightlife so it’ll be too risky to have snipers covering the exits. Instead, we’ll have plain clothed ground teams.’
The door opened and a desk officer entered. ‘Sir, you may want to hear this.’
‘Excuse us,’ said Baker.
They left the room, gathering in the hallway where the chaos of the day was coming to an end and the riotous nature of the night was forming.
McGowan asked the officer, ‘What is it?’
‘Sir, we’ve had reports of shots fired over in Bakersfield.’
‘So what?’ said Baker. ‘Shots are fired every day in the city. Get someone over there, we’re busy with this.’
‘The house that the shots came from belongs to a Sheila and Jacob Decker.’
‘Decker? Where do I know this name from?’
‘Lucy Decker’s parents.’
‘I’ll go,’ McGowan offered.
‘No, send some uniforms. We need you here.’
‘You need me there. You’ve got it covered here. I’m going.’
Baker sighed. ‘Fine. Keep me updated.’
CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
At 17:30 the sky was completely dark. Streetlights shone like beacons in the night breaking up the snow that encased everything it touched, a white untarnished curtain still to feel the ravages of the day’s harsh weather. The faint lashing of each flake hitting the windows was unheard and unseen from the windowless basement beneath Preston’s home where everybody was congregated.
Matherson was still in the chair with Preston opposite, watching each other. Everyone else was lined up on the floor with their backs against the wall under Lenka’s guard, watching the events unfold before them. Lucy was afraid, and it showed as she cradled a frightened Chloe on her lap.
Cyrus placed one bullet in the cylinder of his Colt Python .357, spun it, and slammed it on the table.
‘Do you know what this is for?’ Preston asked Matherson.
On the surface, Matherson had a calm and relaxed composure that he desperately tried to keep visible, his heart accelerating and his hair stuck to his head as it would under a summer sun. ‘Oh give it a rest,’ he said. ‘What are you doing now?’
‘Are you familiar with Russian Roulette?’
He didn’t answer.