by R T Green
I parted company with Coop, but didn't drive straight home. I parked the car on the Thames embankment, leant on the stone balustrade watching the dark, gently-rippling water flow past me.
Most of the snow had gone. The temperature has risen a little, and a mist of rain began to drift into my face. Somehow it was a nice feeling.
I tried to force my mind to make sense of a reality that couldn't get any harsher. There was no sense to make. I was trapped in a mess of impossible contradictions that could never be resolved.
I’d never felt so helpless in my entire life.
After a futile half-hour I turned away from the grey river. Legs that seemed like they were made of lead somehow took me back to the car, and I drove home on autopilot.
I slipped the key into the lock of the apartment door and stepped inside, leant my weary body against it and cast desolate eyes to the ceiling. I felt cold. The heating was on, the apartment warm. It didn't make any difference.
I shivered violently, frozen to the core.
I headed straight for the brandy bottle but checked myself. That had done nothing to help before; it sure wasn't going to help now.
Drawn to the big windows, eyes I couldn't tear away fixed on Zana's apartment. It was two in the morning, her windows were dark. Silently I wished her a good night, desperately hoping that tonight she at least was finding peaceful sleep.
I forced my stare away from her windows. Sheer desolation was threatening to overcome me, and looking at her so close and yet so far away was getting too much to bear.
I fell into bed knowing sleep would be difficult to find, but needing the comfort of a warm duvet. My mind filled with bitter-sweet images I tried to shut away but couldn't. We had made special memories, not so long ago, and yet right then they seemed a lifetime away. Memories that in the space of five minutes had suddenly become the most precious gift anyone could possess.
I had no choice. I knew that come what may I must see this through to the end. Not for DIAL, not for humanity, not even for myself.
I had to be there at the end for Zana.
No matter what I might have to do to end it all.
I found fitful sleep, finally leaving my bed at nine. Coop had just called, given me the mission details, and together we'd worked out the strategy.
I had eight hours until the nullifications would begin.
Ryland Cooper would coordinate the whole thing. I wouldn't use the BMW, Coop would drive me to each hit in his black van. Each of the seven had a spotter, already watching their marks. Once darkness fell the spotters would report on their mark's location, although they knew from previous experience the targets rarely left their homes after dark.
I wasn't worried about the running order, not for the first five. They could go in any sequence, depending on their location at the right time. Or the wrong time, for them. But I’d already listed Arik in the number six position.
And after he was taken care of, then I would go to Zana's apartment.
After each nullification the cleaner would step in. Fifteen minutes after he and his sidekick arrived there would be no trace left that anything out of the ordinary had ever happened.
And no one would ever find the bodies.
I smiled ruefully as I headed to the bedroom. The plain simple truth was that everyone else did all the hard work. All I had to do was kill people.
The smile faded in an instant as I pulled my favourite weapon from the bottom drawer. As I held it in my trembling hand, the nausea in my stomach began to build. I’d been proud of the simple bit of technology. I'd designed it myself, and it worked perfectly.
It didn't really look like the deadly weapon it was; just two grab-handles connected to each end of a metre of carbon fibre filament, thinner than fishing line but fifty times stronger. I'd christened it the cheese-cutter.
I'd trained myself so I could loop it around the victims head in less than a second. Then when the handles were pulled hard apart, it did to someone's neck what a cheese-cutter does to a block of cheese.
Silent.
Instant.
Certain.
I had been proud of it. Now as I stared at its deathly simplicity, the nausea became too much. I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
As the hours passed I knew I had a big problem. Nullifying people had never bothered me.
Now it did.
I cursed Zana, wound myself up into a mess of anger and desolation. Stormed around the apartment swearing at inanimate objects that got in my way or wouldn't seem to do what I asked of them.
Why did she have to come into my life? Why was she so…
I took a shower, stood with my eyes closed for ages allowing the hot water to calm the aggression. I sat a while in my gown, still unsure what I would do when I next came face-to-face with her.
Ryland Cooper had made it all too clear. Now I knew the truth, I had to take out all seven to save my own skin.
Did I?
Was my own skin really worth saving?
I buried my face in my hands. Zana had begged me to allow her to do whatever it was she had to do. I thought I believed her, the look in her eyes seemed so real.
But she hadn't even told me she was an alien.
'Because of you, Madeline', she'd said.
Now I was angry with her, forcing the beautiful memories we’d made to the back of my mind, convincing my heart they were tainted. I told myself she'd lied to me all along, dangled carrot after carrot knowing if I reached out and grabbed them, she could keep me a pussycat and not a tiger.
And make sure I helped rather than hindered her.
I shook my head in disgust at my own stupidity, pulled a small bottle of linseed oil from the kitchen and carefully lubricated the carbon fibre filament. It helped it do its job a little better.
By the time the DIAL phone rang and Ryland Cooper said he was outside waiting, I was fully prepared. Done everything I needed to set off to work.
I smiled as I closed the apartment door, and headed down to the waiting van. I had a job to do, and I'd psyched myself up for it the only way I could.
Eight-year-old Madeline was right after all. Love was a fool's disease, and I had no intention of suffering from that particular cancer.
Feelings and emotions did just get in the way of real life.
Chapter 59
Peter
Ryland Cooper glanced over to me and frowned as I jumped determinedly in the van's passenger seat.
‘You ok, Maddie?’
‘Never better. Back to the old Maddie now, and raring to go!’
‘You sure you're up to this?’
‘Let's just get going, hey Coop?’
The big man threw the van into gear and drove slowly out onto the road. He had an uneasy feeling in his gut; the girl-who-can was looking every bit like she could, but he was getting to know the woman behind the mask, and something was telling him she'd layered on the war-paint far too thickly for comfort.
Five minutes later he parked just around the corner from the small terraced house where Peter lived. All seven targets lived relatively close to each other, there wasn't going to be a lot of driving to do between visits. He checked with the spotter, the man was inside his house.
‘There's a quiet alley at the rear of the houses,’ he said to me. ‘Small back-yard, that's your way in. Front of the houses far too public at this time of the evening.’
I nodded back. In five seconds I was out of the van and walking into the darkness.
It had started to rain; not so heavy, but I pulled the peak of my black cap closer to my eyes as I walked slowly along the narrow alley. I was glad of the rain, it would deter kids and dog-walkers from being outside. There wasn't a soul around as I reached the tall wooden gate.
Peter couldn't have been an easier hit. As I pressed my thumb against the gate latch and eased it gently open, I froze for a second. The man was in the yard, smoking a cigarette and listening to music, his iphone earphones in his ears.
He was a short man, apparently
in his late thirties, with cropped blonde hair and ears that stuck out a little too far. He was enjoying his music, one foot tapping away to the beat.
And he was facing away from me.
The cheese-cutter was expertly looped around his head before he even knew anyone was behind him, slicing instantly through the wires to the earphones, and half of his neck.
‘Geez Maddie, that was quick!’ Coop exclaimed as I climbed back into the van.
‘In the yard smoking a fag. Never even knew I was there,’ I said matter-of-factly.
Ryland Cooper spoke into his phone. ‘All yours, in the back yard,’ was all he said.
As we drove back to the main street, a white van passed us heading towards the alley. On the side was a cartoon picture of a smiling cleaner, and the words 'Happy Hour Cleaners - whatever the mess we can remove it!'
Chapter 60
Valan and Charles
There wasn't a lot of distance between Valan and Charles, both living in the same tall apartment block. I liked such blocks, if you played the right part it was easy to gain access.
Coop handed me a small toolbox from the back of the van, and I clipped a fake ID card to the lapel of my black jacket. I walked confidently into the foyer, waited for the elevator to arrive. It was a smart block, not as up-market as Zana's but still expensive enough. I knew such places had full maintenance agreements in place for the resident's peace-of-mind. Charles lived on the second floor, Valan on the eleventh. Not so easy for the cleaner, all those floors up. I decided to head straight for the top.
I knocked loudly on Valan's door, noticed a security lens fitted, and switched on a fake smile. The man didn't open it straightaway; I knew I was being checked out. Then the lock clicked, and the door opened.
‘Good evening Mr…’ I checked a blank piece of paper in my hand. ‘Mr. Sims; sorry to disturb you but some residents are experiencing heating failure. Do you have any problems?’
‘No,’ the man answered in a guttural voice. He eyed me up and down suspiciously. It didn't look like he had many friends; his short black hair was greasy and unkempt, and a morsel of food sat proudly on his chin. The man was still chewing, it seemed like I’d disturbed his dinner.
‘We've been asked to check all the heat-exchangers Mr. Sims, is it ok if I come in? Just two minutes sir.’
‘It's not convenient.’
I smiled, even though I felt like thumping the obnoxious creep. ‘I can come back later tonight sir, but if I don't sign off every apartment my head'll be on the block. Literally two minutes sir, we know what the potential fault is.’
Valan stared at me, his face expressionless. At least he'd stopped chewing. I was just about to lose my patience and whack him when he said, ‘Two minutes,’ and stood aside.
I walked into the nicely-furnished apartment. I only had a few seconds before the game would be up, didn't have a clue where the heat-exchanger was located. But then Valan gave me the break I needed. The Simpsons was blaring out from the TV on the wall. Totally disinterested, he sat down on the sofa and reached for the half-finished meal sitting on the coffee-table in front of him.
Perfect. The cheese-cutter was in my hands, and five seconds later Valan couldn’t possibly finish his dinner.
I headed back to the elevator in no mood for messing around. The thoroughly-unpleasant man had pissed me off with his attitude. And the piece of food stuck to his chin hadn't helped. I thumped the button for the second floor with my fist, and a minute later knocked on Charles's door wearing the same fake smile.
Charles was an older man, grey hair thinning on top and an equally grey moustache that was a little too big for his face. He looked a bit like the arch-typical mad professor. Not that I bothered to take the time to study him in detail.
He was wearing a blue jacket. I gave him the same line I'd given Valan, but Charles wasn't interested. ‘Sorry, I'm just on my way out,’ he said as he began to close the door.
This time I was in no mood for gentle persuasion. ‘Oh you're on your way out all right, Charles,’ I said as I aimed a foot at the door. The man staggered back and tried to keep his balance, I allowed him to fall to the floor, but by the time he got there his head was half severed from his body.
Chapter 61
Jack and Damien
Ryland Cooper glanced at me as he started the van's engine, a frown on his brow.
‘You want to take a break, Maddie? Find a bar, grab a quick drink?’
I glared back. ‘No way. I'm in the zone. Just drive, Coop.’
He didn’t look convinced. ‘Ok,’ he sighed. ‘You the boss.’
It was a little further to go this time. Damien's spotter had called to say the man was on the move, but it looked like he might be heading for home. We decided to do Jack next.
Jack was younger than the others. From his mug-shots he looked hardly any older than his early twenties. He lived above a run of shops right on a main road, and as we drove past people were milling about everywhere. Coop threw a left and then another into the service road at the back of the shops. Metal staircases led up to a walkway giving access to the apartments.
Some guys were unloading a van, transferring boxes of produce into a storeroom. On the walkway two girls were laughing as they leaned on the railings smoking cigarettes, or something similar.
‘Might have to wait a while for things to calm down,’ said the big man.
‘No. I'm not stopping now. I can handle it.’
‘Maddie…’
I wasn't listening, already out of the van and heading for the staircase.
As I reached the first step the girls disappeared. The rain was getting heavier, and even the need for a smoke had been superseded by the desire to stay dry. The men unloading the van were so busy I didn't think they'd noticed me. I was about to knock on Jack's door when I heard footsteps on the staircase.
An Indian guy appeared, heading towards me carrying a white plastic bag. I glanced around; only two apartments this end of the walkway. A takeaway delivery… what were the chances?
‘Is that for me?’ I called to the man.
‘It is for Jack?’
‘Yeah, that's my boyfriend.’ I pulled a twenty from my pocket and paid the man, who looked extremely grateful as the food only totalled fourteen and I told him to keep the change. I watched the guy disappear, and then knocked on Jack's door.
‘Takeaway delivery!’ I called out, just to make sure the guy was comfortable opening the door.
A few seconds later Jack was there, greeting me with a warm smile. ‘Oh hi,’ he said, glancing at the heavy rain lashing down. ‘Step inside a sec., you'll get drowned out there.’
I did as he said, closing the door behind me as he went to find some cash. He looked an alright guy, dressed neatly in jeans and an Arctic Monkeys t-shirt, his dark brown hair trimmed with a blade four, and a small goatee beard adorning his chin.
He didn't look at all evil.
He reappeared carrying a small leather wallet. And he made the mistake of looking down as he extracted a couple of notes.
He never looked up again.
I turned away from the body as he fell to the ground. Suddenly I felt sick again. This time I'd been facing my victim as the cheese-cutter did its work. This time I'd seen the horror in the lad's eyes, in the one second he had to realise what was happening to him before he died.
This time I hated myself.
I kicked the wall, anger and frustration boiling over. I couldn't hate me, not in the middle of an assignment. That was dangerous, would leave me exposed, going soft and making mistakes.
I could torture myself when this was over. If I was still alive.
I forced the auto-pilot back on, picked up the takeaway bag and left the apartment.
I dropped the bag onto the van's middle seat as I climbed back in.
‘There you go Coop, a little Indian food for you.’
‘What the fuck…’
‘Have some, it smells good. Jack won't be needing it now.’<
br />
He reached out towards the bag, made as if to lift out the foil containers. ‘You want some Maddie, plenty here for two.’
I shook my head. ‘No thanks. I… I couldn't eat a thing right now,’ I said quietly.
‘Then why the fuck would you think I could stomach food?’
I threw back an uncertain, mirthless smile. ‘Just trying to bring a little light relief,’ I said, lowering my head.
‘You think this is funny?’
‘No, I don't. I'm sorry, Coop.’ I met the angry stare boring into me, my eyes misting up. I looked away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t see my despair.
Ryland Cooper could see a woman on the edge of a cliff. A girl subconsciously trying every trick in the book to keep herself from a total breakdown. Her last twenty-four hours had been the day from hell, yet here she was still doing her job even though she was despising every second of it. The Indian food was a vain attempt to prove to herself, and to him, she was still the cold-hearted killer she was a month ago.
He was all too aware they both knew she didn’t exist anymore.
‘Just three to go, Maddie,’ he said softly. ‘You talk to me if you need a little help getting through this, deal?’
‘Deal.’
The phone beeped at him, the spotter reporting Damian was home. He fired up the van's engine, and we headed for target number five.
Damian was an ugly, foul-mouthed brute of a man who somehow seemed to know I wasn't there for a coffee and a chat. It got a little rough, but he ended up no match for a human being on the edge of her sanity.
As he lay unconscious on the floor, I had to stop myself kicking the motionless man violently over and over, as my anger finally unleashed itself and threatened to take control. I didn't let it, but it was a close call.
In the end I satisfied myself with kneeling next to him, wrapping the cheese-cutter around his neck, putting my foot on one handle to hold it on the floor, and yanking the other upwards as hard as I could.