Christ Clone

by McLeod, David

  'Thanks, but I couldn't have done it alone. Aside from your help, Daniel was the one who really made this happen.'

  'How is he getting on?'

  'Well, apart from this distraction, he's been doing really well. Like I said before, he's a good kid. He's gonna be so happy about all of this, which reminds me I must give him a call.'

  Logan fished his cellphone from his pocket and offered it to Malone.

  Malone shook his head. 'No thanks, I'm fine. I spotted a pay phone by the door. I'll be back in a moment.' Confused, Logan watched as Malone got up and went to the door.

  Before long, Malone returned. 'No answer. Probably got his head stuck into a new project.'

  Logan nodded. He still had his phone in his hand. 'What's the story with you and the phone? You're not up to something else are you?' His professional curiosity was getting the better of him.

  Malone didn't seem to know what Logan was talking about and gave him a puzzled look.

  'The phone, I offered you my cellphone, but you chose to use the pay phone outside. I was just wondering if you were keeping something from me, or have those stories about them frying your brain got to you?'

  'Forever the detective, eh Logan?'

  Logan looked slightly uncomfortable. 'Picking peculiarities is my life. I just found it unusual that you didn't have a cell in this day and age. I'm sorry, Malone.'

  'You're fine. You're not the first to point it out. Seems I'm in the minority these days. The thing is, if I told you the reason why you'd probably find it ridiculous.'

  'Like I said, peculiarities are my life,' Logan replied.

  Malone paused for a moment. 'The simple explanation is, whenever I think of cellphones it brings back bad memories. It's like they're a bad luck charm. I know it's a stupid superstition, but I just can't shake it.'

  'I don't follow.'

  'It all goes back to when I was a priest and didn't have any need for a cellphone; my life was as near to perfect as it could get. Beautiful wife and daughter, lovely house, unquestioning faith — I had it all. But, as you know, things changed. Mary's abduction meant I had to be available constantly, hence the need for a cellphone. The trouble was, no one ever called the damn thing. The old adage that no news is good news is utter bullshit. You have no idea what carrying around a device like that does to you — the frustration. The number of times I'd look and check the thing to see if I'd missed a call. But I never missed anything because no one ever called!' Malone was starting to get angry. 'That phone was always on, Logan, battery always charged. There's no way that it should have not received that call!'

  Logan knew Malone was talking about the last call his wife had made to him.

  'The one and only call that was made to that piece-of-shit phone didn't get through. What fucking use was it?'

  Logan didn't know what to say, so he waited for Malone's anger to subside. After a few moments he asked, 'How much longer are you going to carry this grief around?'

  Malone looked up. 'What do you mean?'

  'This grieving; this self-pity, self-loathing — whatever the hell you call it. When are you going to wake up and see the good that you've done? You have successfully reunited a loving family, you've cracked what can best be described as a global crime against humanity, you've saved a young lad from a life of crime, and you've given a tired old detective a new lease on life.'

  Malone's brow furrowed as he listened to Logan's praise.

  'Yeah, you heard right. Before you walked back into the station I was burnt out. I was sick of all the bad things people were doing to each other. I was too involved, and yet not involved enough; my gift for solving cases was spent. It was dragging me down at work and overflowing into my personal life. Then you returned. Seeing the enthusiasm back in your face, and the conviction in your story, was enough to renew my love for the job. You see, I'd forgotten that faith and belief in what you do is one of the cornerstones of life. My gift is solving crimes, but yours, Malone, your gift is your special heart.'

  Malone let Logan's words sink in.

  'I think you should go and get some rest; we'll take it from here. I'm sure Travis and the rest of them will be picked up soon. I'll give you a call when I know more.'

  50

  LOS ANGELES

  Malone pulled up outside his house. It had been an amazing few days, and the pep talk from Logan had actually made him feel good about himself. He was looking forward to telling Daniel the result of their hard work, and he wanted to shower and call Taylor.

  The house seemed unusually quiet. Even as he unlocked the front door, he began to get an uneasy feeling. He called to Daniel and got no response. He clenched his fists and moved from room to room, knowing he'd already given his presence away by calling. The house was empty and nothing seemed out of order, but he still had that bad feeling.

  He relaxed a little and went to the kitchen to make a coffee. Almost immediately his unease turned to shock; on the kitchen bench was a note from Daniel.

  Malone,

  They've got Taylor. I've left their message on the machine.

  I will call you later when I've got her back.

  Daniel.

  The light on the machine flashed two messages. He pushed the message button and listened.

  Malone, we told you to stay away from our friends, but it seems you don't listen too good. To get your attention we've picked up a friend of yours, Taylor. Come and see us at 16758 Pacific View Road, Rancho Palos Verdes, and forget about bringing the police. We won't like it, and nor will your friend.

  The message beeped as it ended, and the second message began. It was the message he'd left for Daniel. He pressed stop and leaned against the counter. Malone had to think. What was Daniel doing going after them? What could he achieve? He decided against calling Logan. This was something he had to do himself. He grabbed his keys and bolted to the rental car.

  ***

  The Twin Towers, Tony and Terry, sat around the derelict shack pleased with their handiwork. Picking up the girl had been easy, the usual girlie struggles, nothing they couldn't handle. But the bonus of catching Malone's assistant was an outstanding day's work. Working the kid over was just a perk of the job; for some inexplicable reason they were both uncomfortable with hitting women, so Daniel's appearance allowed them to let off steam.

  They joked to each other about Daniel's arrival; it was the worst rescue attempt they'd ever seen. How stupid did he think they were?

  'This is Daniel, Malone's assistant. I am here with the police, and we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up.' Tony was mimicking Daniel.

  'Okay, we're coming out,' Terry said in a high-pitched voice.

  'Nice and slow now, where's the other one?' Tony continued.

  'Behind you,' Terry said in a deep voice. They both laughed out loud. 'Did you see his face, man, he wet his pants!' Tony had tears running down his face as he recalled Daniel's expression of terror.

  'Stupid bastard! You can see for miles in both directions from here, and as if the police would let a kid speak on their behalf.'

  Their conversation changed to the subject of the house. It had been their parents' home years ago, and it was where they grew up. Being situated on the cliff top meant that the ocean views, on a fine day, were extraordinary. The unfortunate thing was that the land beneath the house was decaying, and the authorities had declared the residence unsafe. Before they died, their parents had tried so hard to stay there, with petitions and legal action, but their argument, like the ground beneath the house, had slowly eroded over time, and they had to live out their days in a small townhouse in the city.

  The house held a lot of memories for the two men, memories from their early years that were warm and friendly, as well as the more unpleasant ones from recent years when the house had become their place of work. The location was remote enough that even the noisiest of clients wouldn't be heard, and there was enough vacant land around to bury any amount of trash.

  ***

  In t
he car, Malone's mind was racing. He'd met the Twins before so he knew what they were capable of. His dilemma had two heads: what was he going to do to get Taylor away from them, and where was Daniel? A plan of action just wouldn't come to him. Reasoning with cavemen was out of the question, and as far as straightout fighting them went . . . He had no difficulty in dismissing this as an option.

  The road to Rancho Palos Verdes was busy. Malone had joined the tail end of the commuter traffic, and his lack of progress was frustrating him. How could people do this every day? The traffic eased once he passed the small town and headed for the coast. Driving along the cliff-top road, he checked the map again to confirm he was on track. Satisfied, he slowed to search for numbers. 16758 Pacific View Road was nestled on the edge of an eroding cliff top. The house looked as though it had been uninhabited for decades due to its precarious position. There were signs on the wire fence circling the place declaring it unsafe and declaring that trespassers would be prosecuted.

  As his car slowly drew to a halt, the tyres crunched the sand and shingle beneath them, sounding like a mouthful of tortilla chips being slowly eaten. He pulled up next to two cars. One of them he recognized as Daniel's; the truck, he assumed, belonged to the Twins. Switching off his engine, Malone reluctantly acknowledged that Daniel's rescue attempt hadn't gone well. He looked towards the wooden house before getting out of his car; the windows were boarded up, and the slate roof had a chessboard design due to missing tiles. The garden was overgrown with dry grass and weeds; a mass of beige and brown filled his view. With a sinister creak, the door to the house was tugged open and one of the Twins filled the entrance. He pointed to Malone and, curling his index finger, beckoned him in. Malone took a deep breath and got out of the car; the salty ocean air refreshed his senses, but he still had no plan.

  Malone slowly walked to the door, his fear overridden by adrenaline. The Twin patted him down, checking for a weapon. Once satisfied he was clean, he moved aside and let Malone enter the house. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the room's murky light, but almost immediately after they'd focused, Malone spotted Daniel. He looked awful; it looked to him like they'd really worked the kid over. His arms were tied behind his back and he was slumped on a chair. His head had flopped back as though there was something to see on the ceiling. Seeing anything however, would be a problem as his eyes were swollen shut. His nose had been beaten across his face, and the blood had crusted into a dark red goatee around his mouth. Malone struggled to get to him, but one of the Twins held him back.

  'Calm down, he's just unconscious,' the other Twin said, proud of his work.

  'What the fuck have you done to him? Where the fuck is Taylor?' Malone barked, trying to sound tough, but the wobble in his voice told the real story; he was petrified.

  'Sit down, Malone. We have a lot to get through.'

  He was directed to a chair with its back to the ocean view. With his adrenaline level dropping, he suddenly felt very tired; he turned and flopped onto the chair, which creaked as he sat down.

  The Twins stood either side of Malone, both careful to keep their privates out of his reach.

  'Where is Taylor? What have you done with her?' Malone asked again. This time his voice was quiet, almost timid.

  'All in good time . . . First things first, tell us what you know about . . .'

  'I'm not telling you anything until I know where Taylor is.' Malone had no idea what he'd be able to do when he knew where she was. All he could think of was one small step at a time.

  'I don't think you know how much trouble you're in, Mr Malone. We told you a long time ago to mind your own business, but it seems you're not so good at taking advice. So we're giving you an opportunity to redeem yourself, and to take some of that advice. Tell us what we need to know, and we can all go home.'

  'Where is Taylor? I want to be sure she's okay.'

  'You're like a fucking broken record,' one of the men yelled, grabbing Malone's face with his fist drawn back.

  'You can hit me all you want, but I'm not telling you jack until I know that Taylor is fine,' Malone yelled back, wincing, preparing himself to be hit.

  'You wanna know where she is? We'll show you where she is.' The Twin yanked Malone's head towards a wall on his left and nodded to his brother. With that, his brother pulled back a sliding wall to reveal the deck outside. There, suspended from a rope, was Taylor.

  Her arms were tied above her hooded head, and there was no floor beneath her.

  Malone jumped up and ran towards her, but the Twins grabbed him. It had to be at least two hundred feet down to the waves hitting the rock-face below.

  'Let her go!' he yelled.

  Pulling a knife from his pocket, one of the Twins leaned out and put the blade on the rope. 'Gladly,' he smirked.

  'No!' Malone screamed.

  He turned the knife towards Malone. 'Now cut the shit. Are you ready to talk?' he snarled.

  'Okay, okay. I'll tell you what you want — just, just leave her out of this, leave them both out of it.'

  'Let's just say she's our guarantee you'll tell us the truth,' the Twin said as he pulled the wall back.

  Malone was out of ideas. 'What do you want to know?' he asked as he dropped back on the chair.

  'Now that we have your undivided attention, we have someone who wants to talk to you.' The other Twin was dialling the number as his brother spoke. 'Yeah, we've got him here. Sure, I'll put him on now,' he said, switching the cellphone to speakerphone and holding it close to Malone.

  'Hello, Mr Malone, how the devil are you? I trust my business associates are treating you well?'

  Malone could almost see Travis' smarmy face on the other end of the phone.

  'You seem to have caused us a bit of trouble with your continued meddling. Now, unless you answer the following question correctly, people you seem to hold very near and dear are going to get hurt. Exactly what have you told the police about the unveiling?'

  Malone gathered his thoughts for a moment. 'Let's just say you're on borrowed time, Travis.'

  Tony slapped Malone's head. 'Answer the man's question.'

  'The cops know everything, you moron. Don't you get the news where you are? They've hit your lab and your egghead friends' places. Don't you get it? You're over, you're finished.'

  'That's lovely Malone, but you're still not answering my question. Now, one last time, what exactly have you told the police about the unveiling?'

  Malone couldn't understand what Travis was getting at but decided to try and bluff his way out. 'Listen Travis, I know what you're getting at. You want to know if there's a way for you to get out of this without getting caught. You want me to tell you exactly what I've told the police, the where and when. Then you can miraculously avoid capture and disappear to some far-off land. Fuck, for all I care, you can go to some plastic surgeon and become Mrs Travis. But first, I've said all that I'm going to say to you until you release Daniel and Taylor. It's me that you want, Travis, let the others go, or you can spend the rest of your days in an Israeli jail being some bearded man's bitch.' Malone's confidence had returned and he felt sure Travis would buy the bluff.

  'Ah Mr Malone, with a speech like that I'm sure you were a great preacher in your day. Unfortunately, you have now told me what I need to know and, alas, I'm afraid it's not good news for you or your friends. I hope you're up to date with your prayers, as you're about to meet the man who hears them.'

  Tony, Terry, could you please dispose of my three guests? Goodbye and good luck, Mr Malone.'

  The phone disconnected, leaving Malone dumbfounded. The Twins looked at each other and shrugged. As Terry pulled out his knife and took a step towards Malone, the front door burst open.

  'LAPD, hold it right there, put your hands up where we can see them.' Malone recognized Logan's voice. Officers came in from all sides of the house, moving in slowly with guns drawn. As Logan moved into the house, Malone saw that behind him in the doorway stood Dale Galbraith.

  51 />
  SOUTH GERMANY

  'Why is my name now Stefan Calver, and why have you two changed your names?' These were the first of many questions from Ansgar on the journey to Switzerland, a journey that was rapidly turning into something like a school field trip. The clone was constantly asking questions about things that interested him along the way, and before long it seemed to Klaus Zudermeister that everything was of interest to the young man. PSI's chairman was no help either.

  'Your job is to handle the clone, and my job is to handle the business,' he kept saying. Sure, it was Ansgar's first time out of the sanctuary of the lab, but did he really have to know how and why every single thing worked?

  What is that place? How fast does this train go? How long will the trip take? How far is Switzerland from here? The questions went on and on. With every answer came another question — it was exhausting.

  RUSSIA

  The journey was easier for Dr Poskov and the colonel. Aloysha had been outside the facility previously, so he had already gained a brief perspective on the real world. Still, their train journey wasn't without its own harrowing moments — in particular, passport control. The forged passports the colonel had acquired were exceptional work, and as they were handed over to the customs officer the colonel had the utmost confidence in them. Confidence, however, that Dr Poskov seemed to lack. His fidgeting and nervousness drew undue attention to the three of them, and resulted in the guard rechecking their credentials; in turn, the colonel was questioning his choice of Poskov as a travel partner. On the plus side, it did prove that the passports would stand up to the most stringent scrutiny.

  SWITZERLAND

  Once they reached the hotel, the German team checked to see if the Russians had arrived; the desk clerk confirmed they had, in fact, checked in a few hours earlier. They made their way to the suite and while Klaus unpacked and Stefan went around the room opening cupboards and asking questions, the PSI chairman called the Russian team. They arranged to meet in the hotel restaurant in twenty minutes, giving them all a chance to freshen up.