A Study in Sin (12 page)

 Jimmy popped the bombs into the container and listened to them as they hissed to life. He quickly sealed the ventilation tube back in placed and took out the last of his necessary items: a gas mask.

Slipping it over his face, he waited while the ether flowed into the vents and began making its way through the building. He wiped his tired eyes; they showed the effects of staying up all night, sealing all the exterior windows of the building with layers upon layers of glue.

Ultimately, the last precaution hadn’t mattered. Jimmy passed three guys in the hallway, but all were unconscious on the floor. And the Vault had been aptly named. The two steel doors that led into the room were airtight and there were no windows. By the time he made his way back into the room, everyone was asleep on the floor. Everyone, that is, except Jack Clarke.

Jack stumbled around, fighting his body’s urge to collapse. When he heard the back door of the vault open, he spun around and reached out his hand, as if to touch Jimmy from across the room.

“What – what are you?” he said, before collapsing to the ground.

Jimmy realized that the gas mask he was wearing must look extremely interesting to someone that was going through severe hallucinations, so he walked over and stood above Jack’s limp body.

“Who am I?” he said, “I’m exactly who you think I am. I’m the one that comes for people like you, Jack. I’m the one you can’t ignore, the one you can’t hide from, the one you can’t outrun. I’m all the retribution, all the revenge you deserve to have fall upon you. You knew I would come for you and now I’m here. So, you tell me who I am. Say my name, Jack.”

Jack stared up at him, wide-eyed and terrified.

“Say it!” Jimmy yelled down at him.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, and then passed out. Jimmy got a good laugh out of scaring the shit out of him, but it wasn’t what he came for. He turned his attention to the accountant slumped on the floor and the pile of money on the table next to him.

With his now empty duffel bag, Jimmy scooped up every last bill, which he would later total at just north of five-hundred eighty thousand pounds. He unlocked and pushed his way through the vault door, slipping off his mask as he walked out into the fresh air of the back alley. As he hopped into a cab and made his way to the airport to meet his fiancé, he didn’t think about the money that would take him far away from Dublin and his soon-to-be pursuers. He didn’t think about the Colonel or Daugherty or Reece, and he especially didn’t think about that asshole Jack. No, the only thought that filled his head as he smiled and looked out the window of the cab was that half a million pounds could buy so much and yet weigh so little.

Chapter 4
The Retribution

Aiden Clery raced down narrow country roads on his way back to the Ryan farm, open expanses of rolling green hills flying by on the other side of his windows. The trip that kept him away for a week, had seemed to stretch on for months, every day an eternity in and of itself. As he turned onto the gravel road that led down to the house, he realized he was hurrying back to his fiancé and a wholly new and foreign feeling welled up inside him. He was happy in a way he had never known before, and he felt like only good days lay ahead.

When he pulled up to the house, he was surprised to see a black sedan in the spot where the Ryan’s truck was usually parked. He made his way to the front door and gave it a quick knock, and waited for Jim to come let him in.

Only, when the door swung open, he wasn’t greeted by the tough farmer he had become friends with, but by a taller, and much younger, man who invited him to step inside.

“Why don’t you take a seat, join Mr. Ryan over there,” the man commanded him.

Aiden looked at Jim as he crossed the room. He saw the steely look on his face and realized something wasn’t right.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he sat down across from a shorter, uglier second man. He was dressed identically to his partner.

“You must be Claire’s boyfriend,” the shorter man said. “We were just getting reacquainted with Jimmy here, it’s been a while since the three of us last saw each other.”

“I’ve never met either of you assholes before today,” Jim said.

“Come on now, Jimmy. We all know each other here. Hell, you could even say we’re family. Isn’t that right?”

Jim sat in silence and stared back at the flat-faced man in front of him.

“Yea, all family,” the man continued, turning his attention towards Aiden, “And Claire’s boyfriend here is family too. No sense in keeping him in the dark, since the reason we’re here is ultimately a family matter. I’m sorry, I’m being rude, let me introduce myself: my name is Patrick McCarty and this is my brother Mike McCarty,” he said, motioning in the direction of the taller man who stood in the doorway. “We’ve come from Dublin to meet with Jimmy here. ‘About what?’ you ask. Well, I’ll tell you. We’re here about a debt. You see, a few years back Jimmy here took out a loan that he knew he couldn’t pay back. And not only did he default on this loan, turns out he never had permission to take out this loan in the first place. Needless to say, he’s angered quite a few people back in Dublin.”

Aiden glanced over at the man named Mike who stood behind the ugly one. His eyes were burning a hole in Jim, glued to the man Aiden knew only as a devoted father and farmer. Aiden noticed the bulge in the man’s waistband at his right hip.

Patrick McCarty continued: “The person who Jimmy took this loan from sent us here to work out – let’s call it the repayment terms,” he said smiling. “First, I’ll ask an easy question. Jimmy, do you have the Colonel’s money?”

Jim hadn’t moved since Aiden sat down. He showed no emotion towards the comments the man was making, and his only response was silence.

“Right. Well then, Claire’s boyfriend, you wouldn’t happen to have the Colonel’s money would you?”

Jim decided it was time to speak up.

“Leave him out of this, you little cunt.”

The remark brought an even uglier smile to the short man’s face.

“My name is Clery,” Aiden said. “How much do we owe?” he asked.

Jim turned and looked over at the young man and was proud this was the person his daughter had chosen for herself. It made him feel like he had gotten at least one thing right in his lifetime. At the same time, he knew that if he didn’t play this the right way, his daughter and future son-in-law would more than likely be cut down for something he had done nearly twenty years ago. The thought smoldered inside of him.

“Six hundred thousand pounds,” Patrick McCarty said.

“No. I don’t have that,” Aiden answered.

“I didn’t think you would. Worth a shot though. Alright, well here’s what we’re going to do: The Colonel has instructed us to give you seventy-two hours to come up with the money. So we’ll be back in three days,” he said, rising from the chair. “It would be in everyone’s best interest if you just repaid what you owe.”

“And if I can’t come up with it?” Jim said.

Again, Patrick McCarty smiled like he was taking pleasure in holding the debt over Jim’s head.

“You lose everything,” he said.

Aiden took that to mean the truck and the farm and the land. Jim knew better.

“Oh, and Jimmy,” Patrick called back before the two brothers left, “You best make it seven fifty, you know, with interest and all. Wouldn’t want to make the Colonel feel like you pulled the wool over his eyes.”

Jim and Aiden sat in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to talk first. Jim was furious with himself for thinking that he could ever outrun his past. He had wanted so badly for his daughter to grow up in her home, in her mother’s land where she belonged, that he had grown lazy. He cursed himself for bringing this trouble down upon his daughter. Aiden finally broke the silence.

“So should I be worried about that?”

Jim Ryan took a deep breath and cleared his head of all the rage and hatred he was feeling. Every moment counted now and there was much to do if there was any chance of them surviving the next few days.

“First, I have to apologize to you Aiden. You shouldn’t be involved with any of this. Neither should Claire. I’ve made mistakes in my life and no one should have to pay for those mistakes other than me. Unfortunately, it’s too late to go back now,” he said. “When I was young, I worked for an organization in Dublin that was responsible for doing bad things – very bad. I was just a kid when I started, and as I got older, I kept telling myself that what I was doing wasn’t right and that I would eventually step away from it, but a month became a year, and a year became five. Then I met Claire’s mother and she got pregnant with Claire and I knew I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing; if not for my own sake, for the safety of my family. I tried to get out, I tried to start new. But it doesn’t work like that. So I did what I had to do.

“The loan those two men were talking about wasn’t a loan at all. One day, I woke up and told my wife to meet me at the airport. I went to work, gassed the entire building, and walked out with over half a million pounds. We flew to Paris and lived in a small little place on the river. My wife had Claire and the three of us spent every second together for over two years. It was the happiest I’ve ever been. But my wife got sick –” he paused, “None of that matters. What matters is that they’ve found me and they want retribution.”

Aiden listened to his story and tried to picture what he was hearing, but all he could think about was the part where Jim gassed a building and stole more money than Aiden had ever seen. Jim felt his attention drifting.

“There’s something you should know, son: life isn’t what it seems. It’s not one long story; it’s a series of very specific choices, each one linked to the next. But we don’t see it that way and we get complacent. We brush off beautiful things and we lose perspective of how important every moment is. Then, suddenly, something happens to you and it seems to jump up from nowhere and we curse our luck and ask ‘Why?’. Shame on the man who doesn’t see his life for what it is; shame on us, shame on all of us for not seeing.”

Aiden didn’t know how to respond.

“So… what do we do? Can we come up with the money” he said, fully aware of how ridiculous the thought was before he said it.

“No, we don’t have nearly enough. And I’m afraid it won’t matter.”

“Why’s that?”

“Forget it. Listen, you need to promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll look after Claire. You keep her safe –”

“I’d never let anything happen to her.”

“I know that, but you need to be prepared to do anything. These are very dangerous people. You might very well be faced with a choice where there are only two wrong answers. If that happens, you put Claire above everything else.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I know you will. There’s one more thing: this stays between the two of us. Claire isn’t to know unless it is absolutely necessary. Agreed?”

Aiden hesitated. “Agreed.”

“Good. Now that we’re clear, I want you to try not to worry. I think I know a way to make this work and I need your full attention. Claire should be home in an hour, and you and I have a lot to go over. Come on, I’ll put some tea on.”

But Jim knew there was no way out. He had escaped his life once, and now it had caught up to him. There was only one thing to do, only one real plan of action, and it involved forfeiting his own life in exchange for his daughter. Even that was a longshot.

He led Aiden to the kitchen as he envisioned the last time he had seen the Colonel’s face.

The next night, after Jim had been very adamant that he take a few hours to relax, Aiden sat at a nearby pub, attempting to drink his way to an answer.

He found himself thinking about what his own life had become and he thought about what Jim had told him, about losing sight of the small things, about not recognizing what was happening all around him.

Patrick McCarty had been right when he said they were all family. Aiden had been on his own since the time he graduated high school, and even before that, he had practically raised himself. Jim and Claire were his family; he cared about the two of them more than anyone he had ever come across.

The more he drank, the more he felt certain there was only one thing to do: fight. He was an excellent shot with his rifle; he’d been hunting since he was seven. And based upon what Jim had been telling him, he was no slouch with a gun either. Aiden knew the land and the woods better than anyone. It was their best shot; get Claire as far away from the farm as possible, and hole up. Wait and see what those Dublin boys had in store and shoot their way out. If they got away, it would give them enough time to grab Claire, explain what was going on and leave Ireland for good.

It made the most sense to Aiden as he sat at the bar.

But it would never come to that, as the resolution to the saga of the infamous Jimmy Rhino was already in progress. 

Claire Ryan was in the back of the bar, tuning her guitar, waiting for her set later that night. She felt like shit. She didn’t want to go on and was thinking about asking the manager if he had anyone to fill in.

And there was the other thing; for some reason, she couldn’t shake the thought that something was wrong. She didn’t know what, couldn’t think of anything she’d done, but both Aiden and her father had acted unusually strange the night before. Although the two had always been friendly towards each other, neither was the type of man to sit around and spend their days gossiping with the other. They acknowledged each other, respected each other, and neither had a bad thing to say about the other, but they were by no means friends. Talking really wasn’t their thing.

But that’s exactly what they had spent all last night and the better part of the day doing. When Claire had gotten tired the night before, she whispered to Aiden to let him know, in an attempt to steal him away for a few minutes. Instead, she got a kiss on the cheek and a promise he’d see her in the morning. She fell asleep to the hushed sounds of her two boys talking downstairs.

The more she focused on it, the worse she felt. She decided it was worth asking if anyone could go on in her place. So, she found the manager and convinced him she couldn’t play that night, explaining she was feeling under the weather and telling a harmless little lie about how her throat was sore.