Hindsight

by AA Bell

  The captain clicked his fingers, taking charge of the manuscript, then pointed to the car and to the open gate in the railing.

  ‘No!’ screamed Matron Sanchez, but there was no stopping them from rolling her car overboard.

  Search them, said the captain, and they did, finding only a music stick in her pockets, a few coins and a biro which all followed the car overboard, while the pockets in Freddie’s tracksuit pants turned inside-out empty, like elephant ears.

  ‘Want to see my trunk too?’ Freddie said, masking the anger of an inner demon who began drumming in his head like a new alter-ego trying to break free. The deck heaved, giving the additional sensation that he was disoriented or drunk. He hadn’t noticed it until then, having never been on a boat in his life, but he realised he could now sense the next wave coming and his body was reacting just a little too early each time.

  Another wave from the captain signalled it was time to follow him.

  What are you doing? screamed the matron as the strange man dragged her kicking and screaming to the hooks of a huge crane, mounted amidships. What do you want with us?

  Freddie strained to hear any future response from them too, but there came none except for the sounds of more struggling and screaming, and that same warning over and again, growing steadily softer. Don’t scream or you’ll die faster.

  Echoes of their footsteps preceded the unloading of a long black cylinder from the nearest rack, roughly twice the length and thickness of his body, while a sixth man appeared from the crowd bearing a torchlight and a much smaller cylinder, about the size of a coffee thermos, which he adjusted and made to hiss as if it was spitting gas.

  In numb horror, Freddie and his angel watched as one of the men twisted a knob on the end of the big cylinder, popping a long lid open like a coffin, and then rolling it to spill out a belly full of ice — her future screams now echoing softer and softer towards silence.

  Lockman saw the fishing trawler ahead through the murky night beyond the cabin window, unloading racks of dark cylinders into the black water. Patterson and Cinq peered through the long windows too, seeming just as intrigued, while father and son Greppias shared a glance of renewed camaraderie.

  ‘What happened?’ Gabby asked, groggy and rubbing her forehead.

  ‘Patience,’ Gregan replied, then from his pocket, he withdrew a small torch, pointed it at the deck inside the cabin and switched it on. Turning the face changed the colour of the light from white to red, yellow and finally green, then he approached the window and flashed it three times at the trawler.

  Almost immediately, he received three green flashes in reply.

  ‘Time,’ Gregan said. ‘Bring them all.’

  ‘You don’t need her,’ Lockman said with a glance to Sei. ‘Or the park ranger. By the time they reach port, you’ll be long gone — and you’ll score points with Mira.’

  ‘Everyone,’ Gregan repeated, and on command, Pobody manoeuvred the catamaran alongside the trawler while Gregan glanced from Lockman to Mira and back again, both still tied back to back through the seat. ‘Is it me?’ he asked, ‘or does your dog seem tamer now that he’s tied to her?’

  ‘He was her bodyguard,’ Patterson replied. ‘They spent time alone together.’

  ‘Did they now …?’ Gregan smiled.

  ‘It wasn’t like that!’ Lockman argued. ‘She hates me and the feeling’s mutual. If it wasn’t for her, I’d have been on leave now and up to my armpits in bikini girls.’

  ‘Regardless,’ Patterson said, ‘I’m sure the colonel will want to pick your brains for any intel about her — and I’m sure you must be keen to see him again.’

  Comprehension slugged him in the gut as powerfully as any fist; they were using him to keep Mira safe, all the way to Colonel Kitching.

  ‘Let’s not break up a good thing,’ Gregan said. ‘Cut them loose and re-tie them. She can be his ball and chain until it’s time to send them their separate ways.’

  Patterson nodded, just as the cat bumped against the port side of the much taller trawler.

  ‘She’ll need hands free to climb,’ Lockman argued.

  ‘Not if you carry her,’ Gregan said. ‘Keep one of his hands bound to her. That’ll make sure he doesn’t drop her or misbehave.’

  Cinq complied by slicing their current bindings using the knife she’d taken from Lockman at the penthouse, and refastening the wrist of his injured arm to Mira’s as if holding hands with her, while leaving his strong arm free for climbing.

  Uno led Lockman out of the cabin, trailing Mira. Behind him, Patterson followed carrying Ben’s limp body over his shoulder and Greggie with Corporal Sei, who livened up enough to struggle and required another of Greppia’s men to knock her out and help lift her as the first of their group up the ladder. Waves caused both vessels to bump harder against each other, while wind caused the ladder to flap despite the weight of bodies climbing.

  Ben stirred and Patterson let him down almost gently onto the deck. ‘This isn’t going to work. He’s too heavy to lug up that ladder.’

  Gregan pulled a gun on him, and other weapons bristled around the deck. More pointed down at them from the trawler. ‘Is this the moment you betray us?’ Gregan asked. ‘You planning on springing an ambush?’

  ‘Calm down,’ Patterson said, signalling his people to lower their weapons. ‘We’ve been through all that. Colonel Kitching sent us to help — only this man is a bag of broken bones.’

  ‘Ben?’ Mira cried, causing Lockman to catch her before she got too close to them. ‘What have you done to him?’

  ‘Hold still,’ Lockman whispered as she continued to struggle and complain. ‘Don’t make things any worse for him.’

  ‘Sir, you need him alive,’ Patterson said, ignoring her continued cries and complaints. ‘Or else she won’t cooperate, which means I need to find a safer way of getting him up there. Give a shout to your people and have them send down one of the hooks from that crane. It can work both sides of the trawler at once, can’t it?’

  ‘That it can …’ Gregan whistled for it, and within minutes, a steel hook ran down to them by electric pulley. Patterson used a pair of padded rain jackets from the Edukitty to rig a harness for Chiron, enabling his limp body to be raised onto the trawler deck, where the other crew disentangled him — and Uno scrambled up the ladder to ensure it.

  Gabby was ushered up the dangerously flapping ladder next at the point of an Uzi by one of Greppia’s men, while Gregan signalled for the hook to be lowered a second time.

  ‘No point taking any risks on that ladder with my investment,’ he said with a sideways glance to Lockman and Mira. ‘Hook them up together.’

  Greggie volunteered with a grin, hooking them by their bound wrists. ‘Not a bad shot, am I, considering you were running?’ He patted Lockman’s bandaged arm wound. ‘This may sting a little …’ but as the electric pulley whined and took up their weight, Mira’s feet lifted first, causing her to cry out in pain first.

  Lockman grabbed hold of the hook with his bound hand while hugging her against him, taking the strain off both their bound wrists, but shifting it to his injured bicep and ribs. He winced and cried out as he cramped up, but tried to distract himself by concentrating on her as the crane raised them three storeys higher into the wind and rain.

  ‘Oh, I hate heights,’ he said, knowing from her file that she hated heights too.

  ‘Right now,’ she said, clinging tighter to him, ‘I think there are worse things down there.’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t suppose you brought my phone?’

  ‘Lost it, sorry.’

  Glancing down anyway, he caught a glimpse of something completely unexpected wedged snugly down her cleavage, out of sight inside her lifejacket.

  ‘You’re packing heat?’ he asked, astonished.

  ‘Only one shot, sorry. I have to make it count.’

  ‘You’re magic,’ he said, feeling an urge to kiss her. ‘Mind if I borrow it?’

  ‘What? … Do you mean
now? Aren’t we just a little outnumbered down there?’

  He looked down further, glad for once that she was blind and unable to see just how much trouble they were in. ‘A bit, I suppose — at the moment.’ The trawler deck swarmed with half a dozen gunmen — six fake fishermen who left them swinging in the wind together while the last of Greppia’s people and Patterson’s traitors scaled the ladder, then poured fuel over the decks of the Edukitty and set her adrift as they set her aflame. ‘Looks like they’re arranging a decoy to see how many cops are willing to come out of hiding.’ He heard Gabby scream, and as lightning lit the sky, he spotted her amid the shadowy crowd of crewmen — her expression changing from passive victim to lustful for vengeance for the loss of her cat. ‘There’s no easy way off now,’ Lockman said, ‘but the trawler is packed with cylinders. If their contents are flammable, one shot may be all we need for a well-timed distraction. There’s only one lifeboat, but it’s plenty big enough for you and your friends. Take Tarin Sei with you.’

  ‘What about you?’ she asked, with such an expression of worry that she made his heart ache.

  ‘You heard Sergeant Patterson. I’ve got business with Colonel Kitching.’

  ‘Please don’t,’ she pleaded. ‘Just stay away from him?’

  Lockman glanced up to his bound wrist. ‘I doubt I’ll have much choice in the matter.’

  She rested her cheek against his shoulder, clenching her eyes as if trying not to cry. His body ached from supporting her weight to save her fine-boned wrist, but he could smell her hair, feel her softness and the caress of her warm breath against his ear, and found himself dreading the moment when he’d need to let her go — already imagining her in Chiron’s arms instead of his own, and hating the idea that she’d eventually forget all about him. She shivered, stifling a sob, and he admired her all the more for trying so hard to stay strong for the sake of her friends.

  ‘You’ll be safe,’ he promised. ‘So will they. I’ll make sure of it.’

  She summoned a smile; such a precious gift when all he’d sensed in her was despair. ‘I doubt you’ll have much choice in the matter, Lieutenant.’

  ‘Lance corporal,’ he reminded her, trying to resume his emotional distance — so much safer for his heart that way — but she shook her head with the cutest belligerence.

  ‘You’ll always be my lieutenant.’

  ‘And you’ll always be my Mirage.’ His lips found hers before he could stop himself, igniting such a passion within him that he hugged her all the more, becoming one with her and ascending to a plane above pain as never before, swinging with her against an angry sky that charged him with renewed determination to keep her safe no matter what the cost to him.

  Before he knew it, his feet touched the deck and he plummeted back into painful reality.

  ‘How interesting,’ Gregan said, watching Lockman grimace and endure his pain while supporting her weight until Mira Chambers had found her feet too. ‘I suspect we may be holding the wrong hostage.’

  Lockman glanced from Gregan to Ben and saw Chiron, awake now and watching them — saw his expression darken from beaten to defeated, and knew he’d witnessed the kiss. Lockman’s gut twisted up, realising how much he’d also hurt Mira. She just didn’t realise it yet.

  ‘No way!’ Greggie argued, shaking his head. ‘Pops, you didn’t see the way Benny defended her. I must have busted every bone in his body twice and he still refused to give up her secret.’

  ‘You did what?’ Mira screamed, going wild and causing Lockman to hold her back.

  ‘Wait, no!’ he warned, struggling to keep hold of her. ‘You can’t help him like that. And he was exaggerating anyway. Maybe one or two fractures but mostly just beaten and bruised.’

  ‘Just beaten and bruised?’ She could hardly believe it. ‘Listen to your pet soldier,’ Gregan said. ‘Or I’ll send all your friends to Colonel Kitching for safekeeping.’

  ‘She’ll behave,’ Lockman assured them. ‘Just let her spend a minute with him. What’ll it cost you? Nothing, compared to the gain of a little goodwill with her.’

  ‘A minute then,’ Gregan conceded. ‘But you stay tied to her. Keep each other in check.’

  Lockman nodded and led her to Ben through the forest of large, hairy crewmen, noticing that for every cylinder they unloaded over the side, another was raised — one set black and the other bullet grey.

  To his left, he saw one of the largest crewmen groping the park ranger — frisking her like a horny bear against a rack of grey cylinders.

  ‘You know I’m not with them, oui?’ she said, turning up her French accent as she played up to his advances. ‘I’m with National Parks and Wildlife — see? I’m the wildlife.’ She glanced to Lockman and winked, while hugging the bear and succeeding in being drawn aside from the other two captives, and closer to the lifeboat and the gate in the guardrail.

  Ben was lying on his side near the bridge with Tarin hugged up behind him, and she was using her body to keep him warm, but they were both shivering and conscious enough to see them coming — Tarin with relief and defiance in her eyes, but Chiron could muster only fear, his spirit absent, as if it had been beaten out of him.

  ‘Not long now, buddy,’ Lockman said as he crouched at Ben’s head, allowing Mira to kneel at his side while he checked both captives for their pulse and temperature. ‘We’re getting you both out of here.’

  Lockman helped Mira to find Ben’s face, but Chiron flinched at her touch as if she’d stung him.

  ‘Ben?’ she called, leaning down against his cheek to wait for an answer. ‘I’m here, Ben!’

  ‘I can’t …’ He closed his eyes, and used what little strength he had to turn away from her, curling closer to Tarin Sei, who hugged him with the full length of her body.

  ‘He’s in shock,’ Lockman said, as he realised she could sense Ben’s rejection. She seemed confused by it. ‘He’s not himself.’

  Mira collapsed against Ben, sobbing and pleading for him to acknowledge her, but Lockman could see from Ben’s pained reaction as well as Gregan’s growing distrust that she was only making the situation worse for all of them.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, encouraging her gently back to her feet. ‘He needs rest.’

  ‘He needs a doctor!’ she shouted, rounding on the Greppias, but again Lockman caught her before she could reach them. ‘You people disgust me!’ She collapsed against Lockman’s chest, sobbing.

  ‘So what now?’ he said, keeping one arm around her and noticing the positions of his old team were shifting; Patterson and Pobody towards the nearest row of grey cylinders while Uno and Cinq manoeuvred nearer to the control bridge, as if surrounding the crewmen. ‘Where’s Colonel Kitching?’

  ‘First things first,’ Gregan replied. The crane lowered yet another grey cylinder onto the deck, and Gregan signalled for it to be rolled over to him, then he twisted the control on the nose and popped open a long coffin-style lid along the top.

  Inside, Lockman saw a rubber seal protecting large rolls of money — rolls as thick as his chest and wrapped in clear plastic — all seemingly mixed colours and currencies.

  ‘There are my babies,’ Gregan crooned to them. ‘Come here, son. Take a look at how well business is looking up … There’s eight hundred million aboard,’ he added in a whisper, then he clapped Greggie’s shoulder. ‘To make amends, you can launder all the Aussie dollars and keep half our cut for yourself. I need to be away for a few days anyway, organising all the franchises we’ll need to handle the foreign currencies, and you can have ten per cent for keeping an eye on things while I’m gone. How’s that, son?’

  Lockman laughed. ‘Sounds like a con, Greggie. You don’t really believe he’d share so much with you after skimping for so long?’

  ‘I’d rather believe him than you,’ Greggie replied.

  ‘Family.’ Gregan kissed his son’s forehead. ‘Now go fetch a bottle of champagne from the bridge, Greg. It’s tradition to celebrate the sealing of a good deal.’

&n
bsp; ‘You called me Greg?’ He made it sound like the first time.

  ‘Yeah, go fetch,’ Lockman said, which resulted in Mira being pulled away to arm’s length, soon followed by a slug to his gut.

  ‘Show Greg to the fridge on the bridge,’ said the trawler captain, then he ordered one of his men to go with Greggie while another took his place beside Lockman.

  Gregan turned away, ordering his two remaining men to fetch the last black cylinder on deck, and after they’d opened it too, Lockman watched them spill out its belly at his feet.

  ‘Sorry about the ice,’ Gregan said, as they scooped out the last cubes from the nose by hand. He smiled at Lockman. ‘It’s not just a handy subterfuge for port inspectors, it helps with the balance of weight and buoyancy for returning the empties — your body will too.’

  ‘Kitching’s down there?’ Patterson asked, keeping his back to the last rack of grey cylinders.

  ‘That was the plan,’ Gregan said. ‘But you’re the ones with the headsets to confirm if he’s made it in person.’

  ‘Must be the rain …’ Patterson smiled and tapped his helmet. ‘They may look slick, but they’re made by the lowest bidder.’

  Greppia grinned and glanced at the trawler captain.

  ‘We sent two packages down to the colonel with the first drop, sir. He’s down there all right.’

  ‘You’re not putting me in that?’ Lockman said, feeling his pulse race. If he had one fear in life, it was tight, dark spaces — not heights.

  ‘Bound up like a fish,’ Greppia said with a broader grin, then he climbed in himself. ‘You can keep me company.’

  ‘No!’ Mira screamed. ‘You can’t!’ She squirmed against Lockman, as if his fear had amplified hers. ‘I see … I see death if you take him down with you!’

  ‘Whose death?’ Gregan asked. ‘His or mine?’

  Lockman felt her panting with a fear that felt real — fear that made her voice crack as if the lie itself was cutting her up from the inside.

  ‘She can’t see the future,’ he argued. ‘That’s crazy!’