“There’d have to be away to reach the tunnels from down here,” he said. He frantically studied the pillar, and found a barely visible doorway on one side. He tried the fob. Nothing.
“Two hundred seconds,” one of the ERT cops said.
“Blast it,” Frank said to him.
“Get back,” said the ERT leader.
The group rushed behind a nearby wall and Frank poked his head around. The leader called up one of the team, who hauled a strip of plastic explosive from his pack, placed it along the outline of the door, and attached a detonator. He joined Frank and the others.
The man activated the detonator. There was a massive explosion, and a shower of metal and plaster flew around them. A huge hole was blown in the column. The leader rushed over, reached out a gloved hand, and threw open what was left of the door.
They ran for the opening and followed a narrow staircase leading upwards, emerging from the still-open hatch into the room where Frank had fought with Dogan. The man they’d left guarding the Arx leader lay on the floor. His staring eyes left no doubt about his condition. Dogan's body was gone.
“One hundred twenty seconds,” an ERT cop said.
Frank nodded to their left. They ran for their lives.
Thank God! Frank thought, as the vast foyer came into view.
The leader radioed the snipers to hold their fire. Frank and the others rushed through the main doors and out onto the driveway. The winding lane was crowded with police cruisers. They dashed across it and had just reached the heavily treed section of the grounds when they heard the first explosion.
Frank glanced back at the building as he ran. Inexplicably, he saw Carla De Leon standing in the topmost window. She was smiling. Seconds later the entire top floor exploded.
Frank led Rebecca behind the nearest tree. They were more than a hundred meters from the mansion, but were still showered with debris. They were knocked to the ground by the shock wave. He got back up and helped Rebecca to her feet. They ran behind a small hill and hunkered down.
Frank crawled to the brow of the hill and peeked over. A massive explosion blew the mansion into a million pieces. Debris and ash flew into the smoke-filled sky and showered on the ground around them as the building collapsed into a heap of smoldering wood and stone.
Lohengrin
A light drizzle was falling, and Frank stared at a droplet crawling down the blackened wall of what was left of Richard Carson’s shack on Parker Island, as a worker drove in a shovel blade and removed the first clump of dirt from Jimmy’s grave.
Frank’s face, like numerous unseen portions of his body, bore a lattice of cuts and bruises. He wore a plastic brace on his neck, and his lower right arm was in a cast.
Several uniforms stood by, along with Sergeant Reid, Terry Hastings, and a representative from the Coroner’s office. Rebecca had declined their invitation to be there; she was still dealing with the knowledge that Ralphie was lost to her forever.
Frank had resisted coming himself. The horrific experiences of recent weeks were finally fading into a dreamlike past. This was the last place in the world he wanted refreshed in his memory.
In the end, he’d decided that he had to see with his own eyes what Carson had sacrificed much of his life, and finally become a murderer, to preserve.
Two other workers joined in, and the scar in the earth grew more quickly. After about ten minutes, one of the shovels clinked against something hard.
“Wait,” Reid shouted.
The workers stepped away and Reid, Frank, and Terry edged up to the grave site. Reid looked at Frank, who shook his head and extended his good hand toward the ground.
Terry climbed into the hole, crouched down, and dug around the object the worker had struck. He uncovered the top of a large glass jar with a sealed lid. Within minutes the entire container was exposed. The workers lifted it to a temporary workbench nearby, scraped off the excess black earth still covering much of it, and finally used a spray bottle to wash it clean.
“Just like Dr. Carson told you,” Reid said, bending down and examining the contents.
Inside, floating in a yellowish liquid, was the perfectly preserved brain of Jimmy.
They exhumed the rest of Jimmy’s body, and Carson’s as well, and got them ready to be transported back to the Coroner’s office. Frank exhaled. A massive weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
“You okay, Frank?” Reid asked.
Frank nodded and smiled.
“Congratulations,” Reid said. “To say we owe you one’s kind of an understatement.”
Reid glanced over at the body bags being loaded into the van. He turned back to Frank.
“You know, we can provide you with new identities, even have plastic surgery done…”
“From what Ricky Augustus said that won’t be necessary. The threat of the Savants themselves, on the other hand…”
“What can they do now?” Reid said. “Their cover’s been blown. Olmerol’s been banned internationally. The two top leaders are dead.”
“You sure about that?”
Reid stared at him. “Terry said they saw that Dogan character dead, and you said yourself that you saw Carla De Leon at the window just before the explosion.”
Frank shrugged.
“You know something I don’t?”
Frank shook his head. “Just a hunch.”
“Your hunches scare me.”
Frank smiled and slapped Reid on the back. “Let’s hope I’m wrong.”
“So this is what a Columbarium looks like,” Rebecca said as they strolled into the ornate building deep within the cemetery proper.
Stacked rows of cells filled each wall. Inside, behind the glass doors, were bouquets of flowers, and occasionally a photograph or war medal.
“It’s nice of you to bring me here – I think,” she said tentatively, scanning the hundreds of boxes, “but did you want me to see it for a particular reason? It’s kind of creepy, but definitely an original place to take a date. And why are you packing?” She nodded at the bulge under his jacket.
“Reid still has the extra copies of Carson’s material I gave him,” Frank answered, “and they’ve made more, but the Savants may still be watching me. I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“But why should they care about your parents’ ashes?”
Frank smiled as they stopped at a point near the back of the room. A box just below eye-level had a plate under it that said: “Edward and Grace Langer.”
Frank took a small key out of his pocket, and glanced around the room. They were alone.
“I wasn’t sure if the stuff would fit…”
He unlocked the door of the compartment, removed a small vase of flowers, then the urn containing his parents’ ashes. Inside the compartment, wedged against the back, was a manila envelope and Carson’s notebook computer. He pulled them out, and replaced the ashes and the flowers.
“You put the originals here?” said Rebecca.
“I didn’t know where else to hide them. I was worried the Savants might find this too, but I was pretty careful about being followed.”
Frank and Rebecca sat holding hands in the reserve seating at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. From the darkness in a far corner of the stage, a figure approached, standing solemnly in a boat towed by a pair of swans.
“I hate to tell you,” Frank leaned over and whispered, “but the swan thing is kind of lame.”
“Shhh,” someone whispered behind them.
Rebecca rolled her eyes and whispered back. “Just relax and get into the story, Frank. I think you’ll like it.”
The boat arrived and Lohengrin, resplendent in his shining armour and winged helmet, stepped up to a stone terrace, strode confidently over to the princess, took her hand, and began to sing.
Frank leaned over again and whispered: “He doesn’t look anything like me.”
Rebecca shook as she tried to keep from laughing. She finally composed herself and jabbed him with her el
bow.
“You’re not supposed to talk, Frank,” she whispered. “You’re disturbing the people around us.” But she was still fighting to stifle her own laughter.
Two hours later the opera ended to a standing ovation. The performers left the stage, then returned to take their bows.
Frank finally spoke. “That was beautiful,” he said, smiling, over the noise of the applause.
“So you liked it?” Rebecca asked in the lobby after the show. Finely dressed patrons crowded around them, discussing the performance.
He nodded.
“Really?”
“Really.”
They pushed through the crowd to the bar.
“The constant singing’s a bit hard to take at first,” he said as they arrived, “but once you get used to it, yeah, it was great.”
Rebecca ran a finger under the lapel of his rented tuxedo. “You know, you didn’t have to wear this. You could have worn jeans if you wanted. The old thing about opera being just for stuffed-shirts is a bit passé.”
“I do feel kind of overdressed.”
“I’m impressed that you could get it on over all this,” she gestured at the neck brace and cast he still wore.
“You look like the walking wounded,” she laughed.
“Thanks,” he said.
“On the other hand,” she smiled up at him, “there’s a new gleam in your eye. You’ve got some kind of inner thing going I haven’t seen before.”
They exited the ornate facade of the theater and strolled down Granville Street, headed for Frank’s car. Rebecca hooked her arm in his.
“I saw a newscast about the case on TV a few days ago,” she said, smiling. “You know, the case that wasn’t a case. They never even mentioned you.”
Frank said nothing, just kept walking.
“You asked them to leave you out of it?” she said.
“I’ve had enough of the limelight to last a lifetime. The important thing is that the truth came out about Olmerol.”
“Are they at least keeping in touch with you about the Savants?”
“Reid called me a few days ago. They’re trying to track them down. Turns out Deputy Chief Constable Chase himself was one. He’s disappeared without a trace. Reid said it’s like chasing ghosts. They’ve got some kind of medical test for the condition, but they can’t force people to take it.”
“Any thoughts on what you’re going to do now?”
“Reid’s trying to convince me to come back to the squad. I’m thinking about it.”
“So I won’t see you on stage in Vegas anytime soon?”
He scowled down at her.
“Just kidding,” she said. “Don’t be so sensitive.”
His car was parked on the street. He was still nervous around parkades.
He stood by the passenger door.
“As a matter of fact I think you look incredibly handsome.” She moved her hand to his cheek. “I could just eat you up.”
“You know, I moved into my new place yesterday,” he said. “There’s not a spilled beer bottle or a cigarette butt in sight. You wouldn’t recognize it.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
The colourful menagerie of the city passed them by: street people, bikers, punks with purple hair, couples in evening clothes.
Frank turned and studied the crowd. For a moment he wondered if any of them were…he put it out of his mind.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading The Arx!
I know there are thousands of books out there for you to choose from, and I’m honored that you chose mine. It’s a challenge for relatively unknown authors like myself to reach new readers, and this is where you can help.
If you enjoyed reading this book and think it would be of interest to other readers, please visit the book’s page on Amazon.com and write a customer review. Positive reviews are the best way to attract new readers, and I’m grateful for each and every one I receive.
About the Author
Born in Victoria, BC, Canada, Jay Allan Storey has traveled the world, passing through many places in the news today, including Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, and the Swat valley in Pakistan. He has worked at an amazing variety of jobs, from cab driver to land surveyor to accordion salesman to software developer.
Jay is the author of two novels, THE ARX and ELDORADO, a novella, CHOPPER MUSIC, and a number of short stories. Two new novels are in the works. His stories always skirt close to the edge of believability (but hopefully never cross over). He is attracted to characters who are able to break out of their stereotypes (as Jackson Reilly does in CHOPPER MUSIC) and transform themselves.
He loves both reading and writing, both listening to and playing music, and working with animals. He's crazy for any activity relating to the water, including swimming, surfing, wind-surfing, sailing, snorkeling, and scuba diving.
Jay is married and lives in Vancouver, BC, Canada.
Contact Jay at:
Website: www.jayallanstorey.com
Email: [email protected]
Also From Jay Allan Storey
ELDORADO
In an energy-starved future, Richard Hampton's world is blown apart when his younger brother Danny disappears and the police are too busy trying to keep a lid on a hungry, overcrowded city to search for him.
"...I was hooked right from the get go, on the edge of my seat throughout the whole thing, and I couldn't put it down."
-Tahnee Justus
"...the plot and the backdrop of this book are so well written that they are completely believable, which makes this a page-turner"
- BigBangBookGeek
"...Amazing read of an amazing futuristic journey"
- P. J. Winn
CHOPPER MUSIC
After years in the dark, nightclub bouncer Jackson Reilly finally learns the meaning of ‘follow your bliss’, but has the lesson come too late?
"Deeply Moving, Inspired, Great Writing"
--Tower Lowe, author of In Zuni Zymotic
"Jackson Reilly is hardly a man you would want to befriend, but with
Storey's writing it is impossible not to find yourself cheering him on"
--Martin Hill, author of Killing Depths
"This story is for all of us that want to be offered a second chance,
to make different decisions in our lives"
--Cheryl Stout, Top 1000 reviewer
The Arx Page 29