by Al Cooper
The President was ecstatic, looking once again to Tommy. He thought it should be more than coincidence that had been just him, his clone, who would have saved his life.
XXXIX
When Marvin and Souza heard the first shots, were puzzled, looking at each other. That wasn't the signal agreed with Hanson. It had sounded not three consecutive shots, but many more, without a defined interval between them. The Indians were even more puzzled, some of them pointed to the palisade and then addressed their gaze to Clerigan's sentry, looking for an answer, hoping to take a decision which would show them the way forward.
Souza realized they had no time to lose. He had an idea that had no opportunity to share with Marvin. Stealthily he pressed the gun against the chest of the sentry leaving him clear what his intentions were.
- Get up and tell them that they must calm down and stay here, that you, accompanied by us, are going to see what's happening.
- Pete will kill me if he sees me as a your hostage - the gunman said in a tone that was more like a plea than a firm decision -
- He's not going to do it if I do before. It's your choice - Souza said in a threatening tone by pressing the gun a little more on his chest –
The sentry did not think twice. He stood brandishing his unloaded gun in his hand and conveyed the message to the Indians. They willingly accepted his orders and went about their daily routine, while Marvin, Souza and the sentry ventured into the jungle.
When they were halfway, Souza forced the mercenary to sit next to a tree, and put him the handcuffs that he carried in his shirt pocket. As Marvin was aiming him, Souza got a thick and long vine that he found among the ferns and conveniently tied him to the trunk.
They had no trouble getting into the fortress, because the access gate was unguarded. They hit the ground. The night was casting over, and visibility was poor, but soon took charge of the situation. Three men were besieging the house, strategically arranged so they were complicating the defense of those who had taken refuge in the interior because they had to divide the objectives of their fire. It was not difficult for them to draw conclusions: Hanson should be probably the only one that fired from the inner because it seemed to be the only focus that repelled the attack. But then they could see that from other points of the house a few shots were fired sporadically. The situation of the besieged was critical, the attackers were refugees between the trees and protected by the growing darkness, so they were already a few meters from the house, and the final assault was imminent.
Marvin gave a nod to Souza. They should take advantage of the fact that no one knew about their presence to approach Clerigan's men as much as possible. As they were about to sit up to move faster, they could see the figure of a woman half hidden behind a nearby tree trying to get their attention. Marvin recognized it instantly. It was Kelly, who had run after Clerigan as they heard the shots but she had had to hide and attending as a privileged witness to the siege without a chance to intervene in the absence of a weapon.
- Drop down! for heaven's sake, get down! - Marvin whispered as low as he could to Kelly - Kelly reacted instantly, crawling up to meet them.
- They need help, give me a gun! - she said as greeting -
- Put to my back immediately! - Marvin desperately said to her, pointing to a tree -
- Okay, but give me a gun! - Kelly said -
Souza pulled a gun and gave it to Kelly, then asked:
- Do you know if any of the three attackers is Clerigan?
- Yes - Kelly confirmed by pointing to one who seemed to have the lead and direct the maneuvers of the other two -
- Thank you, and now, is an order, remember that this is my jurisdiction, take cover there behind.
Kelly retired to hide behind the tree that was right behind her. Souza and Marvin, crouching, drew near as they could to the mansion. When they were at a distance that could be discovered, they lay flat on the ground again. They had Clerigan and one of his henchmen to shot, and almost to the third.
- If we use the surprise factor are ours. They are between two fires - Souza whispered to Marvin' -
- Sorry - Marvin replied with resignation -
- What do you pretend to say? What?..
- Forgive me what I'm going to do, but it is my duty. Cover me.
Marvin made a move to get up that Souza understood immediately.
- Don't you think that you're going to take your sense of duty to the limit? It can cost lives. They do not deserve it - Souza replied trying to convince. He soon realized he had not succeeded, seeing as Marvin ended up getting up while he gave his view -
- But this is one of the many differences between theirs and us, dear Souza. I hope you forgive me, but I have my own method.
Marvin pointed to Clerigan, drew strength from where he hadn't, swallowed some saliva and addressed him, screaming.
- Clerigan, stand up! Leave the rifle on the ground and ordered your men to leave their weapons on ground, you're surrounded!
Clerigan threw his rifle, stood up very slowly, once up, he gave his back for a few seconds. He calculated the approximate position of where that voice had come from, slyly pulled a pistol from his belt, then he turned quickly and fired two shots, one of which hit Marvin. Immediately afterwards he threw on ground again and kept firing in the same direction because he was in doubt that the man who had challenged him was not alone.
From inside the house they had followed the scene mired in tension and uncertainty. The attitude of his mate didn't cause stupor at Hanson, because he knew him. Marvin was always so correct, so noble, capable of compliance with the law to the limit of the logical, but the reaction of Clerigan also caught unprepared to Hanson, so he was the first surprised as he saw Marvin collapsed to the ground so when he tried to shoot to Clerigan, it was too late. Meanwhile, Susan had passed from the joy of seeing her husband in the distance to the uneasiness of being aware of the risk he was taking, and from it to the paroxysm as she attended like helpless witness to the cruel end of the scene. She went out the door, desperate, gun in hand, ready to avenge her husband. Hanson, posted in a window, had barely time enough to reach her, grab her by the waist and put her inside as she unloaded her gun firing in the air without rhyme or reason.
Souza could not sit still. Crawling, he tried to reach Marvin. It was a relief for the Brazilian hear his voice.
- Souza, for heaven's sake! Put at safe place and shoot them. Don't even think about approaching! ... I'm ... fine. Don't worry, it's just ... a shot in the left leg.
Souza disregarded it and continued toward his companion and friend of the FBI. He had always avoided compromising situations, and did not like risking his life or that of others, but when fate had put him between a rock and a hard place, he never had doubted. Souza knew that was one of those moments where, if you weigh your chances of success then you never would give the step. When he had reached the side of Marvin, was exposed, unprotected, was an easy target for Clerigan. Two accurate bullets, one in the head, took the lives of Souza.
Clerigan beckoned their two men to cover him, and disappeared into the shadows as darkness had taken over the garden. Only the dim light of the full moon allowed minimal visibility. Marvin, lying on the ground and with little ability to move, took his gun with the little strength he had left. Men of Clerigan had incorporated in order to move more freely in his distraction maneuver and Marvin had one of them at shot. He cursed his luck as he tried to shoot because he could check that he had no bullets in the wrong time. He looked to Souza, his eyes were wildly opened, sure sign that his last look had been for him, as had been his sublime effort to save him. But he had no time to mourn if he wouldn't follow the same path, so he crawled towards him as he could. There was only fifteen feet, but in such circumstances seemed more. Finally he managed to get the gun of Souza, pointed to the mercenary and fired, killing him.
Kell
y, who ignoring orders of Souza had followed his two peers at some distance, hiding behind trees, knew it was time to intervene. Marvin's shot had betrayed him so he was in danger of someone returned to finish him, so she approached running to him and dragged him with difficulty to a tree, despite the insistence of the agent to leave him there so she could to be safe.
The last man was left to Clerigan perceived the action of Kelly. He was close enough to have a good target and aimed his rifle. The young scientist-turned-police froze when she crossed her look with the last person who would probably have occasion to see in her life, the person that would finish with her life. In a split second went through her mind many images, especially those of recent days. What most felt was not having a chance to say goodbye to the real man in her life, the man that just weeks ago she had known but from which she had fallen in love so deeply.
Three shots were heard, after there was an eerie silence. Kelly saw in amazement as his executioner fell to the ground as if struck by lightning. Hanson, who observing the action of Clerigan was examining one by one all possible access points to the inner the house, turned around and ran toward the entrance. He saw Susan nervous, excited, on the porch with the gun of the president in her hand.
- Sorry that I have ignored your order. I could not allow it - said Susan confirming what was obvious -
Hanson looked around and watched as Kelly dragged Marvin to a nearby tree. Then he noticed the new corpse lying near Souza.
- Good shot, Susan!
According to his calculations, the only survivor among the attackers was Clerigan. He didn't know where he could be, so they should still be cautious.
- Kelly, stay where you are and do not move under any circumstances! - He shouted - Watch around you!
Then urged Susan to accompany him inside the house, although she insisted that she didn't want to leave her husband alone and hurt. It was not easy to him convince her that was in good hands and that they could not risk going out, Clerigan was playing with advantage, he knew better than nobody every corner of the house. He could be posted in a place from which he had them to shot.
Hanson had been even more worried if he had witnessed as Clerigan had surrounded the house up reaching to a hatch that opened on the outside, hidden among the vegetation, about seventy yards from the mansion. From there one could access to a ventilation duct so narrow that only a slight man of little bulk as Clerigan could slip through it before emptying into the prison cells, from which in turn one could enter the house through the trap in the basement.
Taking advantage of the confusion outside, and the absence of Hanson, he had entered and taken unawares Klein and the President. So when Hanson and Susan entered to the house again, they took a nasty surprise. Clerigan was upstairs, he had lit one of the torches that was resting on a support in the wall, as the visibility inside the house was almost null. He had one of his hands on the shoulders of Tommy. With the other was pointing a gun to the President.
- Come, come in and close the door, or I leave your country, that's no longer my own, without its President.
- Agent, do whatever you see fit. I am one more, my life is not more important than others - Harold told -
Clerigan then resorted to aim to the head of the children.
- All quiet! Here Clerigan is God. You can't end so easily with him and his work.
Everyone from the floor stared at him, stunned. Hanson summed up what others were thinking.
- I never imagined anyone could be so miserable.
- We were happy in our paradise. You are who have shattered all! - said Clerigan using a messianic tone, bordering on insanity, which would have been familiar to Kelly -
- Let the children leave, they've already had enough. A mutilated life, they do not deserve. Take me as hostage.
Clerigan looked to the President, then made a nod to Tommy.
- President ... there is someone usurping your place ... The older brother of Tommy has done a good job. God now does not need to Tommy. Well, actually neither he, nor you.
- Do you think that you can play, without more, with the lives of people? - President reproached him -
- I have given them a life that without me would never had had. They are in my debt and they know it. If I ask them its life because I need it, be sure that they will repay it.
The slender figure of a woman, wearing a vintage gown, with a candelabra in her hand, was approaching by the corridor to Clerigan until to get his back. She stood at a distance, listening. He didn’t realize about it but Hanson yes. She put a histrionic counterpoint at the scene. As she was close enough for the light of the candelabrum allowed the agent distinguished her face, he was startled. He had seen that face somewhere else. As a good physiognomist he soon realized. He remembered the pictures that Marvin and him had rescued from the archives. That woman, no doubt, was Martha, his wife, who had died after a short and sudden illness. Then he remembered all that Klein had told him about Clerigan and his experiments with the clones and like he was able to get reproductions of the originals in a few years. That explained the issues about Klein,Olsen,Tommy ... and he couldn't avoid to feel a shiver at the thought, Martha's. He also looked at the girl who was next to Tommy. She seemed greatly to Martha. Then came to mind a picture of one birthday of Clerigan's wife when she was about twelve years old, he had seen it among many others. A sinister idea began to surround his head.
Hanson asked a question to Clerigan that by his look didn't seem to like him.
- And neither you need to Martha, right?
Whenever he heard mention the name of his late wife, many memories went through the mind of Clerigan.
He had fallen in love with that actress who had introduced his friend Ron, the writer, in a matter of days, so deeply that he had never come to understand the real reason underlying such phenomenon. As a scientist he had asked himself more than once. Could one justify a feeling of such caliber in terms of a pure hormonal chaos, from a biochemical basis as claimed by some of his colleagues? Is produced according to a balance of characters and affinities between two people? Was it a decision of the human subconscious so it's not partly based on our desires, tastes and concerns, so our ideal match does not need to agree with the one that we always have had in mind? Would not be that feelings have an animal base, irrational and therefore inexplicable?... Whatever it was, he could not explain the root of that feeling. If it was true that they had much in common, their character were very different. He had met some women throughout his life that had much more in common with him, but they had never awakened in him a similar feeling. Martha was spontaneous, direct, passionate, dreamy, unselfish. He, however, was rather cold, calculating, he always thought things twice, realistic and he had to admit, quite selfish and egocentric.
No matter the reason, only the result: since he had known her, had been unable to live without her. He couldn't understand how he had gone from being an independent man, who liked to be at his leisure and direct his life to someone that could not be happy anywhere if she was not beside him, if he couldn't share with her every moment. That strange feeling was new, different, but also comforting, satisfying. It was the closest to happiness than he had never experienced. But he only had could enjoy his great love for the space of a few years. As he had found a meaning to his life beyond his work, death had suddenly removed it. Leukemia finished with Martha's life in a few months, leaving him sunk in nothing, despite having refused from the beginning to face the hard truth and fought to save her until the last minute, despite having spent to the last penny in desperate revolutionary treatments. Behind the last sigh of Martha before expiring in his arms, he knew instantly that he had lost something more than her. It was as if someone had taken away more than half of himself, because without her nothing made sense. He had lost much more than the love of his life. He had lost the will to live, the illusion of getting up every day, his fighting spirit. Or at
least it was until he tipped on his work looking for something that he was afraid to acknowledge.
The old professor lowered his head slightly and began to speak very slowly, lowering the tone of voice unison.
- I became in God because her. I achieved resuscitate her, coming back her to life, but now I know that anyone will be like her.
- Why? Was it not what you were looking for? Another being with her look, with her own voice, with her character ... - Hanson said stressing the wound -
- You do not understand ... I thought the same. I wanted to immortalize her, holding her by my side as she is and will forever in my memory. I knew that a human being is more than a physical, an image, a sound. But what I didn't know was it was much more than a set of genes. Martha was unique, unrepeatable, and as such will live forever in me while I'm alive. She lives here - pointed a finger to his head - and lives in me ... only in me! Do you understand?...