Fear of the Fathers (53 page)

“Leave me,” said Stratton, weakly. “Just take the box and catch up with the others.”

“No fucking way Jose. I'm not leaving you behind. Come on, we'll hide in the undergrowth and hope they pass us by.”

With a superhuman effort he managed to drag Stratton and his backpack twenty feet into the ferns. There they stayed, quiet and motionless, waiting for their enemy to drift past. Titan joined them and lay his head in Stratton's lap.

“Well, it's been good knowing you Jennings,” whispered Stratton. “I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“Don't worry about it. It's better than being in prison. Anyway, don't talk like that, you're not going to die. Even if you do I expect you'll be back.”

“Not this time mate.”

“Well, we're going to get out of it anyway, so there's no need to worry. We've still got guns remember.”

“No, no guns,” choked Stratton.

“What do you mean ‘no guns'? How the hell are we going to defend ourselves? These people aren't shooting for fucking fun you know.”

“I know. But if you want to help me you've got to lay down your weapon.”

“I don't understand.”

“Just trust me Jennings. There's no time to explain. I'm not even sure myself at the moment.” He reached into his pack and pulled out the box. “You've got to take this and find the others.”

“I told you before – I'm not leaving you.”

The sound of raised voices began to filter through the air.

“Listen,” said Stratton. “They're nearly here. You've got to go…now! If you really want to help you've got to leave me here. The box is more important. Don't worry about me, I'm well-hidden in these ferns.”

Jennings took the box reluctantly. “I don't like it,” he said. “It feels like desertion.”

“Just go,” said Stratton. “And remember – no guns. You have to promise me.”

Jennings stowed the box safely in his backpack and gave Stratton one last look. “Okay,” he said. “No guns. I promise.”

“Good,” whispered Stratton. “Now fuck off.”

They exchanged a brief smile and Jennings crept swiftly back to the path. The voices were louder now, and sounded as if they were almost upon him. He scooted out onto the path and sprinted after Stella and Jimi. Behind him the voices clamoured and shots rang out. He hoped they were for him and not Stratton. A bullet pinging off a tree to his side quickly gave him his answer. Instinct screamed at him to turn and retaliate, to jump into the brush and pick them off one by one. But Stratton's voice was ringing in his ears, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to break his promise.

Drawing strength from a place he'd never been, he picked up his pace once more. The world was suddenly beautiful, lit up with heavenly colour. He floated off the ground insensible to the volatile world around him, hostile bullets vanishing into the ether. He was free, he was in the zone, he was at one with the cosmos…

…He was tired, he was weary, he was flagging. His brief flirtation with God was over. His legs started to crumble and his body began to roll. The voices drew closer with every demoralizing second, and the guns grew louder with each soul-sapping step. With nothing left to give he turned round and raised his hands in surrender, accepting his fate stoically and breathlessly.

But just then, as he prepared himself for capture or worse, a sweaty palm clamped his mouth and dragged him backwards into the bushes. He watched silently as the posse hurtled by.

Stone parked his car on the driveway and walked up to the house. The sun was shining and his next-door neighbour was out front mowing the lawn. He waved and commented on the lovely weather. Stone reciprocated with some equally idle chitchat and moved swiftly along to the front door.

The alarm was on and he typed in the code. The house was just as he'd left it the previous morning: no sign of a break-in; no sign of violence. There was also no sign of his wife or the laughter of his little girl.

As instructed he made straight for the basement, his heart leaden with a fateful foreboding. The door creaked tellingly, echoing his own apprehension.

“Come down slowly,” insisted a voice from below. “Hands behind your head, and no sudden movements.”

He did as he was told, taking every step fastidiously, and watching calmly as he took in the scene. Patricia and Jenny were both strapped to chairs. They were blindfolded and gagged. Tressel was standing behind Jenny with a knife to her throat and an implacable darkness in her eyes.

“Sit down there,” she ordered, nodding towards a chair in the corner. “And don't say a fucking word, or the girl dies.”

Stone obeyed, resisting the temptation to reassure his family with hopeful words.

“Right then,” said Annie. “There's a pair of handcuffs on each arm of that chair. I want you to strap yourself in.”

Stone opened his mouth to speak.

“I know what you're going to say,” said Annie. “But I don't want excuses, just fucking do it!”

Stone went through the logistics of his predicament and finally decided that the only way to comply was to cuff his left hand then rest the other restraint on his thigh, slip his wrist in, and close the manacle around with his chin. It proved easier than he imagined and within a minute he was done.

“What now?” he asked.

“Now you're going to take the place of these two. I'm going to come over there and strap you in. If you move a muscle then she's dead.”

“And if I play ball, you'll let them go?”

“Yes,” said Annie. “It's you I want.”

Stone sat still and allowed Annie to bind his legs to the chair. She then taped his wrists over the cuffs to make him more uncomfortable. Lastly she shoved a strip of cloth in his mouth and gagged him.

“Now then,” said Annie. “It's time for the suffering.” She walked slowly back to his wife and daughter and stood behind them flicking her knife nonchalantly. “Who should I do first?”

Stone suddenly realized that she had no intention of letting his family go. She had drawn him into a sadistic trap and there was no way out. He struggled violently in his chair, hoping against hope that something, anything, would loosen.

“I wouldn't bother,” she said. “King Kong couldn't get out of those bonds. It's over.”

Stone continued to writhe, but it soon became apparent that she was right. He gave up and stared angrily at her through sweaty, blurry eyes.

“I'll give you the choice,” said Annie. “Wife or daughter?”

Stone hesitated, wondering for how long he could spin out the charade. Would there be enough time for Davis and the team to save them? He had instructed his partner to give him exactly half an hour; after that he had authorization to storm the building. Stone had completely lost track of the time though, he might have been down there twenty minutes, maybe just five or ten. Either way he had to try and stall the psycho for as long as possible.

“Well come on then,” said Annie. “I haven't got all day. Which is it to be? Give me one nod for wife; two nods for daughter.”

Stone remained motionless.

“And don't think you're going to stall me either. I know you'll have someone waiting to break in. What did you tell them? Twenty minutes? Half an hour?” She looked at her watch. “I can tell you – you've been here just under ten minutes. By the time your little friends get here, you'll all be dead. And then quite frankly, they can do what they like to me.” She raised the knife and positioned herself behind Patricia. “I think we'll do wifey first.”

Stone watched in helpless horror as Annie manoeuvred the blade to his wife's neck, pricked the skin, and began to draw it leisurely across. His stomach heaved as the blood started to trickle.

Jennings watched the group of hunters race by. There were six of them and they were all armed: three with rifles; three with pistols. Massa was at their head moving surprisingly swiftly for one of his substantial frame. His team was made up of wild, swarthy types, perhaps from local villages, who whooped and hollered in their tatty clothes as they closed in on their prey.

Once they were past and their bellowing grew distant, the hand removed itself from Jennings' mouth. He turned round expecting to see Jimi. Instead, he got a surprise. It was Grady, in full combat gear and face paint. Jennings was lost for words.

“It's good to see you too buddy,” said Grady. “Saving your life's getting to be a bit of a habit isn't it?”

“Don't tell me,” said Jennings, composing himself. “Grant's had another one of his dreams.”

“No, not this time,” said Grady. “This time it's luck. Well not so much luck, as being in the right place at the right time, or in my case the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cronin went and got himself shot on the beach after you guys had left. He couldn't make it out here so he managed to persuade me to take his place.”

“That must have taken some doing,” said Jennings.

“You're damn right it did. Sneaky mother kept tugging away at my conscience, giving me all this shit about how I was the only person who could do the job; how it was more important than going back to the States; how millions of lives depended on me; you know – the usual shit. In the end I said I'd do it just to shut him up.”

“Well, thank God you did. I owe you big time, again.”

“Don't worry,” said Grady. “I'm not counting. Anyway, what's happened to the others?”

“Stratton's half dead in the ferns about half a mile back, and Stella and our guide have disappeared off down the trail. So basically everything's gone to shit. I've got no idea where we are even.”

Grady patted him on the back. “Don't worry buddy, I've got directions to the temple in my pocket. Failing that, we can always go back.”

“No,” said Jennings. “We've got to go on. Stratton's entrusted me with the box and I'm going to deliver it back to its proper home.”

“So you've got the box then?” said Grady.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because I've got the key to the symbols inside my jacket. We're supposed to keep them apart.”

“What are you doing here then?”

“I was taking a parallel route, but when I heard gunfire I decided to check it out…Of course if you'd rather I hadn't.”

“Sorry mate, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful,” said Jennings. “Anyway it's too late now, there's no way you're leaving me on my own – I haven't got the first clue where I'm going and I doubt whether I'd survive five minutes without some disaster occurring.”

“Chill brother. Nobody's going to leave you on your own. We'll just have to make sure we don't get caught.”

After a brief discussion they decided to head across country and take the parallel path that Grady had been negotiating before all hell broke loose. Jennings wanted to head back down to check on Stratton first, but Grady pointed out that they didn't know how many men Massa had at his command, and that there could be any number patrolling the way.

“I don't like it though,” said Jennings. “The thought of leaving someone to die in the middle of the jungle just doesn't seem right. If the roles were reversed I'm sure he wouldn't leave either of us.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” said Grady. “I don't know buddy. The point is that he told you to take the box and leave him. How happy do you think he'd be if you lost it while trying to help him? He's not interested in survival – all he wants is for us to get these things back to where they belong. If we go back and get caught we'll be dishonouring him.”

Jennings rubbed his forehead in frustration. “You're right,” he said. “Of course you're right. It just doesn't sit well. And what about Stella – we can't leave her.”

“How good's the guide?” asked Grady.

“What?”

“How good is the guide that led you in here?”

“He's great,” said Jennings. “Knows the jungle better than anyone.”

“Well then,” said Grady. “Who do you think Stella's better off with – him, or a couple of greenhorns?”

Jennings shrugged. “I know,” he said. “But it's not about logic is it? It's about being able to live with yourself.”

“Listen Jennings,” said Grady, sharply. “You've got to pull yourself together. We've got to get out of here now, before any more of them come by. We can discuss the moralities of it when we're out of harm's way. Now, come on!”

Jennings reluctantly clambered to his feet, but was immediately pulled back down. Grady indicated for him to be quiet.

The sound of voices carried from the path, drawing closer by the second. Grady reached for his gun and unlocked the safety. Jennings was about to do likewise when once more he remembered his promise to Stratton. Grady looked at him quizzically, then pointed at his weapon urgently. Jennings shook his head. Grady shook his. The voices were almost on top of them.