Miss No One

by Mark Ayre

  The move took Winston by surprise.

  He hesitated for a fraction of a second.

  That was all Ana needed.

  Crashing into Winston, she brought in an arc the knife she'd taken from Xavier and punctured his throat. Winston opened his mouth to scream, but only a gargle escaped, along with a trickle of blood.

  He grabbed Ana by the top, shoved her, and pulled the shotgun's trigger.

  When he fired, the weapon was still next to Ana. She felt the searing heat through her top as she stumbled. As she fell, she raised her leg and kicked.

  Weakened by a car explosion, a rifle shot to the ear, a knife to the neck (and he called Ana immortal), the shotgun's recoil at this final shot was enough to knock Winston off balance. He staggered, and his legs hit the railing. The metal bar would have saved him had Ana's kick not supplemented the wasted shot's buck.

  He teetered, tried to grab Ana's foot, but it was already gone. Then he tipped past his centre of gravity and felt the drag and the rush of air as he tumbled over the edge and crashed to the ground below.

  Abbie watched Orion scuttle around the back of the cars and kept her gun raised. How many shots left? She wasn't sure and couldn't check. She'd know when she pulled the trigger. Maybe she'd hear the impotent click of an empty chamber. That would likely be the end.

  Some way behind, Abbie could hear Isabella sobbing. When Orion had fired the shot that counted, Abbie had felt it whistle past and had seen Ndidi drop in her peripheral. She had no idea how bad the damage was—if Ndidi would live—but she could not help but feel relief at the sound of Isabella's sobbing. She didn't tend to find happiness in small children's grief, but with Isabella, sobbing meant life. If Abbie could kill Orion, the kid would be okay.

  "What's the plan?" she called to the cars as she circled them. She could see Orion moving around the cars as she did but wouldn't risk another speculative shot. "How long can you keep this up? No one's coming to save you, and you have no one left to save. You can't get into the cars, or you would have already. You've lost your leverage. You have to see it's finished."

  Through the last couple of days, Abbie had considered Orion to be an intelligent man, and he had been. But Abbie had peeled away everything that made him human. An animal remained. Orion was nothing beyond survival instinct.

  That could mean this final stand drew out far too long. Abbie wanted it done and thought she knew how to achieve her goal.

  It would take her reminding Orion he was human. She had to encourage an emotion to break free of its shackles and to overtake the survival instinct. She had to turn flight into fight.

  Still circling the car, Abbie said, "This was always going to end the same way. The moment I realised who I was dealing with, I knew I'd end up killing you. When I learned you were springing Rachel from prison, I was relieved. Behind bars, she was a danger; in setting her free, you guaranteed her demise at my hands. That shot to her chest and the next to her head were inevitable. I have to thank you for making it possible."

  A low, guttural growl emitted from behind the SUV. Abbie stopped. The sound told her exactly where Orion was. She aimed at where he would emerge if emotion trumped what remained of his rational thinking.

  "You might be surprised to learn how long I've known of the Becker family. Ever since I first came across your lot over half a year ago. Ever since I bumped into Margaret Becker in the stairwell of a block of flats where her enemy was hiding." Abbie paused. Dramatic effect was so important.

  "You know, the day an unknown assailant shot her dead like a dog."

  The growl became a roar, and Orion burst free of the SUV, firing a wild shot that whizzed past Abbie.

  He kept pulling the trigger but the cupboard was bare. Click, click, click. He didn't seem to notice. He had a blade and closed the distance between them with it high in the air, intending to end Abbie's life with a barrage of knife wounds.

  Still pointlessly pulling the trigger, Orion got to within a metre of Abbie before she raised her gun, aimed for his head and fired.

  No empty click for Abbie. The shot rang out. The bullet blasted through the air and hit Orion where another bullet had earlier hit Rachel: right between the eyes.

  The eldest Becker child's head snapped back as his body continued to rush forward. Like a rag doll, he crumpled at Abbie's feet, dead eyes staring towards the clear night sky.

  Abbie glanced up as well. It was a beautiful evening. The best thing about being away from the city was the ability to see the stars in the sky.

  "There you go," she said, looking back to Orion. "Game over."

  Forty-Two

  By the time Ana reached the ground (and it took a while, what with the beating her body had taken and the overexertion of charging Winston), her shotgun-wielding assailant was still not dead.

  Having landed on his back, he stared at the sky with his arms spread. His fingers twitched, his eyes moved from left to right to left to right, as though he was watching a tennis match. The knife remained in his neck, and blood leaked around it. When he saw Ana, his lips moved, and more blood spilt from them, but no words.

  Ana still felt numb, hollow. That black hole inside had grown and grown. When all this was over, she wasn't sure how she'd feel. Would she come to terms with the lives she'd taken or struggle to handle the guilt? Would she collapse beneath the weight of what she'd done or thrive? Perhaps killing would become an addiction. She hoped not. Her mum still trying to deal with the burden of raising one psychotic daughter. She couldn't handle another.

  When Winston had fallen over the edge, he had taken with him his shotgun. It had slipped from his grasp when he hit the ground and now lay just beyond his fingers. Leaning over with only a mild fear that Winston might spring to his feet and grab her, Ana took the gun. She was trying to decide if she could put Winston out of his misery or if that would be too much for her on this day of killing. As it happened, no decision was necessary. Ana collected the gun and, by the time she had straightened with the weapon in her hands, the life had left Winston's eyes. He was gone.

  From her position by the watchtower, Ana looked to the wreck of Evans' vehicle and shuddered. When she'd crashed the car and escaped, she'd been relieved that she alone had been inside. Abbie had travelled on foot to the airfield. Only now, in the aftermath of the battle, did she realise that wasn't correct. Ana hadn't been alone. She and Abbie had locked the unconscious Evans in the boot.

  What remained of the car was a blackened husk. The smoke had thinned to little more than a fine mist, and the fire was out.

  The boot remained closed. Evans was dead. The mere thought of that boot popping open, revealing to Ana what remained of the bent cop, made her stomach churn.

  Beyond the car, through the smoke, Ana traced the hill's slope and saw shapes hunched in the grass, a little distance from the two vehicles. That both cars remained suggested good things. Was it over? Had they won?

  Ana staggered forward as fast as her injured body would allow. She passed the husk of Evans' car and the unconscious DS Moore, then she was on clear grass and moving towards the bodies.

  As she grew closer, she could make out who she was nearing. Abbie and a child leaned over a body. Beyond them lay the twisted form of Orion, which meant the body Abbie partially covered could only be Ndidi.

  When Ana was ten metres away, Abbie heard the lawyer's approach and looked up. After glancing at Ana, she put a hand on Isabella's shoulder, whispered to the child, and stood. As Abbie made her way towards Ana, Isabella moved closer to her father.

  "Is he alright?” Ana asked as Abbie approached. “I was going to shoot all the baddies but I know you like to act the hero. Didn’t want to steal your spotlight.”

  This drew a laugh from Abbie, who then gave Ana an awkward but affectionate thump on the shoulder. It hurt, but Ana preferred it to a hug, which would have been painful and embarassing.

  "You're a hero," Abbie said. "If you hadn't taken out Winston and the other guy, I couldn't have stopped Orion.
I'm sure of it."

  Ana shrugged. Like it was no big deal. “Did what I could. But you were right. It doesn't make up for the past."

  "You're still a hero," said Abbie. "Focus on that for tonight."

  She stepped up to Ana and turned, so the two women stood side by side, facing Isabella and Ndidi. Ana watched as the father raised a hand and stroked his daughter's cheek. The little girl burst into tears.

  But not tears of sadness.

  "Orion shot him in the arm," said Abbie. "Looks like the bullet went straight through. I wrapped the wound myself, and I think he'll be okay."

  Raising a hand, Abbie squeezed Ana's shoulder. Where she had thumped. This hurt too. Ana needed a lie down.

  "We did it," Abbie said. "We saved the child. You've done so much already; I want to tell you to go to the hospital then home. To rest and recuperate. I mean, you do look horrendous—“

  “Thanks.”

  “Like a zombie or something.”

  “Any time you want to go back to mentioning what a hero I am.”

  Abbie chuckled. “Just nice you not looking so damn stunning for once.”

  “Are you hitting on me?”

  “Not even a tiny little bit. I do need you though,” said Abbie.

  “I’ve got tingles. This is why I can’t rest and recuperate?”

  “Right. Because it's not quite over. If you're willing, I need you to stick around a little while longer.”

  Ana looked at Abbie.

  “What do you need?”

  "Police are on the way as we speak," said Abbie, looking to the horizon, to the direction from which the cops would appear. "Now I don't have my crack team backing me, well..." she let out a long whistle and turned to Ana. "I'm going to need a top lawyer. But I think you'll do."

  Forty-Three

  Twelve hours later, and for the second time, Abbie stepped out of the police station onto the stone steps. The sun was high; and warm for March in this part of the world. The air felt remarkably fresh. Exoneration had that effect on a person.

  As it had turned out, an average lawyer could have done the job.

  After ensuring someone he trusted was caring for his daughter, Ndidi had insisted on giving a new statement to Superintendent Norris, encompassing everything that had happened over the past few weeks. His growing suspicious of Hammond and feeding information to anti-corruption. His wife’s job at Lucky Draw and how he, Ndidi, believed the casino owners had killed her. His attack on Gary, and Franks and Evans convincing him to force the teen to provide a false statement. His part in Rachel’s escape, and in her murder of DC Christine Lakes. And finally, the story of the night just gone, how Abbie and Ana had heroically risked their lives to save Ndidi and his daughter.

  As a result of Ndidi's extensive testimony, Norris was forced to open various lines of enquiry. Gary was reinterviewed and this time the teen told the truth, while Kilman recovered enough to corroborate Abbie and Gary’s version of events as to what had happened at the school.

  Norris got on the phone with the team at anti-corruption responsible for sending Christine. The Hammond case was reopened. PC Franks and DS Moore both survived the airfield battle and both cut deals to reduce their sentences, providing valuable information against Lucky Draw and supporting Ndidi, Gary, and Kilman's claims that Orion had framed Abbie. Xavier had survived Ana’s assault. Once he learned Orion and Winston were dead, he was also keen to seek a deal.

  After these interviews were complete, Abbie sat in a small room with a couple of tired police detectives and Ana, her lawyer, and recounted her story. She started late, implying she had arrived in town in time to see Ndidi attack Gary, but after that she was pretty honest. Though she never confirmed she had used a gun and didn't confess to any murders.

  At last, Abbie was free. The detectives who had interviewed her warned they might be in touch. There were bodies to account for, and charges could still be brought. But both Abbie and Ana were content she was in the clear. Her details wouldn’t be wiped from the database—not since Ben and the organisation he represented had cut ties—but that was okay. The ordeal was over.

  Or almost over, anyway.

  "I guess you'll be heading to the hospital?" said Ana. "Bet you can't wait to see Bobby."

  Standing atop the stone steps, Abbie smiled at the sun but felt a strange churning when she thought of Bobby. When she considered the fire.

  "I'll be heading that way," she said. "But there's something I have to do first."

  "What?" asked Ana.

  “It's not quite over," said Abbie. "Not until I tie up the last loose ends."

  This time, Ndidi welcomed Abbie into his home with open arms. He made her coffee and even offered her biscuits, which she politely declined. When the drinks were ready, the detective placed the mugs on coasters on the table and took the armchair. Abbie took the sofa where Norris and Stanton had sat the previous day.

  "How's Isabella?"

  It was the first question Abbie asked. It had occurred to her that of all the people Abbie's dreams had sent her to save, Isabella was the one with whom she had had the least contact. Before Abbie checked Ndidi's gunshot wound and soothed the girl, they had never met, and Abbie had not seen the child since.

  "She's safe, and that's the main thing," said Ndidi. "But it's a long road, and there'll be hard times ahead."

  Ndidi collected his mug, not to drink from but to have something to distract his hands.

  "Kids are amazingly resilient creatures," said Abbie. "She'll get back on track."

  "I hope so," said Ndidi. "I've told her the truth about her mother." He shook his head. "It was wrong of me to lie, to tell that poor girl her mother had left her. She's too little to comprehend what her mother being dead really means. Still, at least she won't grow up believing Leilani abandoned her. I couldn't have lived with myself if I had allowed that to continue."

  Abbie collected her own drink and sipped the hot coffee. "I think you've done the right thing."

  Ndidi tried a smile, but it was weak. For a little while, they sat and sipped their drinks.

  "What about you?" Abbie asked at last. "Will there be charges?"

  Ndidi let out a long breath.

  "That's the question. I certainly broke plenty of laws. I lied to my superiors. Lies which led to an expensive and unnecessary operation. I was complicit in the break-out of a dangerous criminal who went on to murder one of our officers."

  The thought of Christine caused his face to crumple. He gripped his coffee a little more tightly, though the surface of the ceramic had to be red hot.

  "That's the big one," he said. "I'm responsible for Christine's death. I don’t believe there's any appetite amongst my colleagues and superiors to see me convicted, but it may be unavoidable."

  As Ndidi bowed his head, Abbie sipped some more of her coffee and kept her counsel. There was plenty she could say, but she sensed Ndidi was not yet done. Not quite.

  "I'll never forgive myself for what happened," he said. "If it wasn't for Isabella, I would run to the station and beg them to put my wrists in cuffs. I would gladly see a judge sentence me to however long in prison she deemed necessary. But my little girl has lost her mother. Maybe it's arrogance, but I believe she needs me. As long as I'm convinced of that, I'll fight to stay free."

  After he finished, and following a short silence, Ndidi looked up and met Abbie's eye. She saw he wanted her opinion. It was unclear whether he sought validation specifically or whether he wanted an honest view. Unfortunately for him, if he wanted the former, that wasn't Abbie. An honest opinion, in this instance, was all she could give.

  "I struggle to think of Christine," she said. Which was true. Posthumously, Christine's superiors had praised her. There would be awards and commendations delivered to her parents, who would be told how brave Christine had been. How she had died a hero. All of this was true, and maybe it would help take the edge off the significant loss over time. In the short term, it was meaningless. Christine was a young, kind,
honest woman. She had sacrificed her happiness and brought addiction on herself to do what she thought was her duty. Christine had earned a happy ending. What she got... nothing could make up for that.

  "I understand," said Ndidi.

  "Maybe," said Abbie. "I'm wracked with guilt. Bobby wasn't going anywhere, and if I'd stayed put, Christine might still be alive. I'll never forgive myself for the decisions I made, nor should you forgive yourself for yours. Your daughter was in grave danger, but I'm sorry, even with that in mind, I can't offer you solace after what happened."

  Again, Ndidi hung his head. Wiped his eyes.

  "You're right. I know it."

  "Still," said Abbie, before Ndidi could break down entirely, “your daughter’s lost a mother and doesn't deserve to lose a father. Whatever happened over the last few weeks, I hope you escape jail time."

  At this last sentence, Ndidi looked up and met Abbie's eye. She didn't look away. Maybe he heard it in her tone or saw it in her look, but he realised there was more to come.

  "You're not here to comfort or condemn me, are you?"

  "No," said Abbie. "I've come because I can't stand loose ends. Sometimes, they're unavoidable. There are a couple in this particular case I think we can tie up here and now."

  Ndidi stared at Abbie. He opened his mouth, knowing what she wanted of him, but found he hadn't the strength to talk. Instead, he drank his coffee and waited for Abbie to go on.

  She drank a little of her own, then did so.

  "For me, this all started when I followed Christine over a fence into Davesh's dealership," said Abbie. "When we arrived, we found someone had murdered the man himself not long before. Right after we discovered this, Winston arrived with three associates. I helped Christine escape before taking on Winston's team. A fight which ended with Winston fleeing and his associates dead."

  Ndidi's eyes widened at this, but Abbie ignored the look and went on before he could interrupt.