by Andy Ritchie
‘Like I said, I’m not supposed to talk to you, sir.’
‘Of course you’re not.’
Tukaal drinks more of his tea and then eats the penultimate biscuit. But he continues to stare at Sandford.
‘It’s a shame your children won’t grow up into adulthood, isn’t it.’
Sandford makes a point of not reacting to Tukaal’s last statement.
‘You see, I’m going to kill them first. Not quite sure how I’ll do it yet, still haven’t decided on that. So many options to choose from, you see. Suffocation, that’s a good one because there’s never a lot of mess. Drowning’s all right, I suppose, but not my favourite, all that thrashing around in icy water, someone could catch their death...of course, I could always go for something more classical, like slicing them open with a knife, now that’s always fun, lots of blood, always lots of blood, especially if you cut open the abdomen...eviscerating they call it, you know, very rewarding, watching all the internal organs just tumble out...stomach, intestines, liver, kidney...yes, yes, I think that’s what I’ll do to your children, Robert, I’ll eviscerate them, slice them open and then watch all their kiddie entrails flop out onto the floor...’
All the time he is speaking, there’s a tone in his voice. It’s soft, almost gentle, but at the same time, it is intensely menacing.
And Tukaal continues to stare (not just look) but stare at Sandford.
There are a couple of beads of sweat on Sandford’s brow and his left eye is twitching ever so slightly. His hands have formed into fists.
[Collator's Note: For the briefest of moments, Tukaal’s gaze moves away from Sandford’s face to the camera above the door. As he looks at the camera, a part of the ‘display’ that we can see from his neural net recording goes haywire, lots of manically flashing symbols and colours. Then it stops, and his gaze returns to Sandford.]
‘And when I’ve finished with your children, then I’ll start on your wife. She’ll be in shock by then, of course, because I’ll have made her watch as I cut open her kiddies...she may not even fight if I try to rape her...is she worth raping, Robert? Is she a good looker, nice, pert breasts, slim, elegant waist...?’
A reaction. Sandford looks at him, only for a moment, but it is a look of rage.
[Collator's Note: Now I’m not sure if Tukaal is using his SVPT on Sandford, or even if it works like this. But it’s not just what Tukaal is saying (frightening though it is), it’s the way he’s saying it. To be honest, when you listen to the way Tukaal is speaking, you actually begin to believe that he is perfectly capable of doing what he is suggesting he will do, that the acts he is describing will definitely happen. Maybe, inside Sandford’s head, images of his slaughtered children and his violated wife are starting to take shape, as is the image of Tukaal standing over them, blood still dripping from the knife he holds in his hand.]
‘You have absolutely no idea who I am and what I am capable of, do you, Robert? And yet, you stand guard over me as if you are somehow better than me, keep me bound to this chair in this stuffy little cell. Do you think you are better than me, Robert? Do you think you’ll be better than me when I hand you your children’s eyes on a stick, because I’m going to do that, Robert, when I get out of here, I’ll find out where you live, Robert Sandford of Guardian Security, and I’ll go around to your house and I’ll chop up your son and your daughter in front of your screaming, sobbing wife and then I’ll tear all her clothes off and fuck her until she can’t take any more and then I’ll slice that blade across her throat and watch as all the blood spurts out all over the bed...and then you’ll come home, and you’ll find them all, dead and lifeless...and all because of you, Robert, because you wouldn’t talk to me, you ignored me, you pissed me off...they’ll be dead because of you...I’ll make it happen, I promise you I’ll make them suffer and then I’ll make you suffer, because you kept me tied to this chair...it’ll be your fault they're dead, your fault that I do it...your fault...your fault...’
It has taken a long time, but, finally, Sandford’s self-control deserts him.
He pulls out his baton from his belt and moves threateningly towards the seated Tukaal.
‘You sick fuck,’ he shouts, ‘I’ll make sure you don’t get close to my family...’
He is about to bring the baton savagely down on Tukaal’s secured left hand when, in a movement which is ridiculously fast, Tukaal throws the remaining semi-hot tea from the mug into the advancing Sandford’s face.
As he brings the baton down, the guard is momentarily blinded.
The baton definitely hits Tukaal, somewhere on his forearm.
[Collator's Note: From this point on, the image is somewhat blurry and things happen out of view. At the time the baton should have made impact, the display on the video again goes haywire — I think it was registering the pain. Then there is an image, I think, of the disorientated and partially blinded Sandford almost falling into the chair, over-balanced by his own momentum and the force of the blow he is delivering. I think I see Tukaal’s right hand, no longer holding the mug, come across the vision to grab (I assume) Sandford’s hair. When the blurry images pass and the video settles down again, Tukaal has the guard by the throat and Sandford, who is held awkwardly in a half-seated position, is gasping for air.]
‘Now, Robert,’ Tukaal hisses menacingly in Sandford’s ear, ‘I want you to answer me a question. If you believe that I could snuff out your pathetic little existence just by applying more pressure to your scrawny little throat, whimper once for me.’
Sandford whimpers, his eyes wide in terror and streaming tears.
‘Good, I’m glad we’ve established that. Now, I’m going to allow you to move a little. What I want you to do is release my left wrist. Can you do that for me, Robert? If you think you can, whimper again.’
Sandford whimpers once more.
‘Then I’d be very much obliged if you would do so.’
But, before Sandford can move, there is a scream from another cell.
It’s distant, muffled by the walls, but in spite of this it is clearly audible.
[Collator’s Note: This is the first scream of pain from JP, a result of Mendelssohn using the Bodaslod Duelling Gauntlet on his head. I have to admit that I felt physically sick when I heard it the first time, such is the rawness of it. However well JP described it in his version of events, nothing can quite prepare you for the sound he makes. I never believed it was possible for a man to make such a sound.]
Tukaal returns his attentions to what Sandford is doing. The guard’s hands are shaking violently and it is a struggle for him to get his fingers to do as they are told and undo the buckle on the leather strap around Tukaal’s left wrist. Eventually, however, he manages it.
‘Very good, Robert,’ Tukaal says as he then uses his free left hand to first undo the strap around his chest and then undo the two straps holding his ankles in place.
Within about twenty seconds, he is free.
Suddenly, there is another scream.
[Collator’s Note: This scream is the result of the Gauntlet being used on JP’s chest. It seems to last for an eternity.]
‘What’s happening to the man who was brought in with me?’
‘The Boss said he was going to interrogate him. While I was making your tea, he went back to his office to get something...’
‘What?’
Sandford’s breaths are short and shallow as Tukaal maintains a vice-like grip on his neck.
‘I don’t know. I was in the kitchen brewing up when he went to the other cell.’
Tukaal seems to think for a moment.
There is another scream, this one even more blood curdling than the other two.
[Collator’s Note: This is the scream from Mendelssohn placing the gauntlet around JP’s crotch.]
‘How many guards are there?’
‘Er...I think...’
Tukaal squeezes harder on Sandford’s neck, then says menacingly:
‘Don’t play games with me, R
obert. How many guards are there?’
Sandford seems to realise that his life is very much in the balance and that it would be more sensible for him to answer truthfully.
‘There’s eight guards. One is on duty in the Control Room, I assume one or two are in with the Boss. The others will be in the mess room, I guess...’
‘What about the layout of this place. Describe it.’
Sandford tries to clear his throat, but he can’t. His voice is odd.
‘There are ten cells at this end of the building. They all open out onto the corridor. The Control Room’s at the end of the corridor...’
‘And beyond that?’ Tukaal asks, his voice sounding slightly impatient.
‘There’s the kitchen and mess-room, the toilets, a couple of offices, some storage rooms...’
‘Mendelssohn is using one of the offices?’
Sandford nods.
‘And the way out of the building...?’
‘That’s on the other side of the Control Room, past the kitchen and mess-room.’
Suddenly, Tukaal seems to tense. Sandford whimpers, perhaps thinking that he was about to meet his end.
Then Tukaal gets up quickly from his seat and moves to the locked door.
[Collator’s Note: I can only assume that he drags Sandford along with him. You can hear a dragging sound and you can also hear some strangled simpering and hissing from Sandford. But, as Tukaal nears the door, you can also hear another sound, the sound of something being moved along the corridor (this is the table on wheels being moved into JP’s cell whilst JP is unconscious). Tukaal stands perfectly still for a short while. More movement in the corridor and then the soft clunk of the electronic lock on JP’s cell door can once more be heard.]
Tukaal returns his attentions to Sandford.
‘Is there a camera monitoring the corridor?’
Sandford nods. He looks close to losing consciousness now. Tukaal shakes him roughly.
‘Don’t pass out on me, Robert. You’re no use to me unconscious.’
He shakes him again, this time releasing the grip he has on his throat. Sandford coughs a couple of times, then tries to draw long, wheezing breaths. He rubs his throat gently. There are tears in his eyes.
‘Does your swipe-card give you access to all areas?’
‘Yes,’ Sandford replies, his voice strained and hoarse.
Tukaal seems to spend a little bit of time thinking, but then his gaze goes back to the door because he hears again the clunk of an electronic lock, first disengaging and then, after a few seconds, re-engaging.
He turns to Sandford. It is just possible to make out Tukaal’s index finger being placed to his own lips, followed by the soft sound of him saying:
‘Shhhh.’
Sandford’s eyes are wide with fear.
Then Mendelssohn’s voice can be heard:
‘We’ll give it ten minutes. I’m not sure we’ll get anything from him, pathetic little shit that he is. If there’s nothing new from him when we get back, then get a couple of the guys to help carry him out, take him somewhere quiet and dispose of him. In the mean-time, I’ll...’
Mendelssohn’s voice tails off as he moves past the door of Tukaal’s cell. More clunking sounds, and the voice is gone.
[Collator’s Note: Tukaal himself seems to breathe a sigh of relief at this point — I can only assume that this is relief at the fact that Mendelssohn did not choose to re-visit him as he went past.]
Tukaal thinks for a while.
‘How far is it from this door to the door at the end of the corridor, the one that goes into the Control Room?’
‘Only about eight feet. You’re in the first cell along from the door.’
‘And where is my friend?’
‘He’s in the cell number 7, other side, one along.’
Tukaal thinks a little more, then seems to reach a decision.
‘Right, Robert, this is what we are going to do. We’re going to move out of this cell and quickly down to the door to the control room. I’m going to be crouching behind you. You’re going to use your swipe-card to open the door to the Control Room, but you are not going to enter. Instead, you are going to call the other guard over, telling him that you need his help...’
‘With what?’
Tukaal hesitates.
‘I don’t know...tell him you’ve hurt yourself, tell him you love him, tell him anything, just get him to come over to the door...and if you try anything, anything at all, I’ll rip your kidney out. Do you understand?’
Sandford nods, and gulps.
[Collator’s Note: Sandford follows Tukaal’s instructions to the letter. He uses his swipe-card to open the door to the cell, walks out, turning right towards the Control Room door. The cell doors closes behind him and the locks re-engage. He walks to the Control Room doors, swipes his card, pushes the door open and shouts to the other guard.]
‘Hey, Stu, can you come and give us a hand. I got my leg caught in that dodgy fucking cell door on number 1 and it’s fucked up my ankle.’
[Collator’s Note: You can hear Tukaal whisper ‘Well done,’ under his breath. The view here is slightly obscured — all you can see is Sandford’s back as Tukaal crouches behind him, trying to stay hidden from the camera in the corridor. Tukaal has his left hand on Sandford’s shoulder and his right hand tightly gripping his right side, almost as if he is actually preparing to rip his kidney out if he does anything he isn’t supposed to.
Out of sight, I assume the unsuspecting guard in the Control Room (who fortunately seems to be a helpful and conscientious fellow) jumps up from his seat and hurries over to the door to the cells. There’s a short, tense wait until, in a view that is a little blurry, Tukaal makes his move. Having seen the second guard approaching, Tukaal seems to fling Sandford to one side. He advances quickly on the second guard who, though initially taken aback by the sight of Tukaal emerging from the doorway, seems to recover his senses quickly and starts to move back towards the large control desk, presumably to raise the alarm.
Tukaal, however, is on him in an instant and seems to grab the back of his neck.
Then, in what looks like something Mr Spock would do in a Star Trek episode, he squeezes hard and the guard just seems to go limp. He collapses to the floor.
Tukaal turns back towards the door to see what Sandford is doing, but the young guard is also on the floor, moaning groggily and rubbing the left side of his head and face, presumably from the impact with the wall when Tukaal pushed him aside. Tukaal walks over, grabs him roughly by the collar and hauls him to his feet.]
‘I don’t understand,’ Sandford groans. ‘Why did he fall for that? Why wasn’t he ready for you?’
‘If you’re referring to the fact that he should have seen me overpower you on his monitor, come and have a look.’
Tukaal drags the semi-conscious Sandford over to the desk which houses the ten monitors. The monitor marked ‘Interrogation Room 1’ shows Tukaal sat in his chair, every now and again taking a drink from his mug of tea. The top of Sandford’s head is also visible as he stands next to the door.
‘How...how is that possible...?’
Tukaal ignores the question.
[Collator’s Note: I am not quite sure how Tukaal managed to somehow tamper with the camera and get it to play a simple loop of him drinking tea. I am assuming that, in just the same way as he was able to use his neural net to interact with JP’s laptop and the laptop which Mendelssohn brought in earlier, he could somehow do so with the camera and the image it relayed to the Control Room. I think that that was what he was doing in that short period earlier when he stared at the camera and the display at the side of his video recording went all crazy.]
For a short while, Tukaal gazes at the image on the monitor marked Interrogation Room 7. It shows Jethro, leant on the trolley, pen in hand, writing furiously. Tukaal reaches over and turns up the volume control from the cell. He can hear Jethro sobbing pitifully. He turns the volume back down.
�
�I had nothing to do with what they did to your friend,’ Sandford says, his words harsh and grating. ‘I was in with you.’
Tukaal turns to look at him. He is shaking with fear, but there is a glint of defiance in his eyes.
‘If you continue to co-operate, Robert, you may just make it out of this alive.’
Tukaal’s words are clearly a warning.
Tukaal gets hold of the unconscious guard and lifts him into his chair.
‘Come with me,’ he says to Sandford, grabbing the guard once more by the shoulder and moving over to the other door. He peers through the small, plated window at the corridor beyond. It is empty.
He then drags Sandford back to the other door and, using the swipe-card, opens it once more and moves back into the corridor. Behind him, the door to the Control Room closes and the locks re-engage.
The swipe-card is used again, accompanied by the further clunk of electronic locks, this time at the door of Interrogation Room 7.
Tukaal pushes Sandford into the cell.
Jethro looks up, his features drawn, haunted almost, his eyes red and puffy, his face streaked with tears. His expression is one of terror.
[Collator’s Note: Details of the joint escape, the death of Sandford, the fight with Mendelssohn and his men, the drive to Manchester, etc, all that is described in JP’s diary entries. This is just to put in one of the missing pieces of the jigsaw. I trust you will agree it is worth the effort.]
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Diary Entry 14
[Collator’s Note: This is an internet profile of Patrick Mendelssohn which JP must have downloaded some time after the events in Manchester.]
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Diary Entry 15
[Collator’s Note: The following cutting, which is from a copy of Nuts Magazine which came out a few days after JP and Tukaal escaped, was stapled to this profile.]
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Post-It Note 2
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Diary Entry 16
[Collator’s Note: Not quite sure where JP managed to get this from. It looks like an extract from a Wikipedia-style on-line encyclopedia called Juka-Ta.]