BlindFire (16 page)

  "We all have our reasons for what we do
son
, some
are
good..." He took a carton of milk out of a refrigerator. "...And some
aren’
t so good." He poured some of the milk into each cup and the rest into a bowl and placed it on the floor. "What's your name boy?"

  "Danny
." There wasn't really much point in telling any more lies.

  "Well Danny
... Do you take sugar?"

  "No thanks."

  The man moved slowly
over to the bed and untaped Danny’s
hands. "You don’t need to know my name
." He held out a hand, which Danny
gingerly shook. He still felt quite weak.

  "How long have I been asleep?"

  "Couple of days... I'll untie your legs later, when we've had our little chat." He said and went back to the now whistling kettle. "What's with the fancy hardware?" He said over his shoulder.

  "The gun was a Christmas present from a friend."

   He poured some steaming hot water into the cups and slowly nodd
ed. Danny
didn't know if this meant he was agreeing with something, or had nervous tick. "Really? I normally get underwear or After-shave."

  "Not quite the same firepower."
He retorted
.

  He was nodd
ing again. "You're Staff Sergeant Danny Stone
, I read all about you in the papers."

  "You know
about me?
"

  "Actually, I didn't recognise you until I went through your wallet.... It was soaking, so I dried everything out."

  "Thanks." He said. "Those pictures are all I have left
of my wife
."

  The Vet squeezed the tea-bags on the side of the cups, draining every last bit of flavor out of them. "So what is it?" He asked. "...Revenge?"

  Taking the hot cup in both hands, he looked up at the man, he seemed sincere enough. Not the sort to turn
someone in. "No… Well maybe." He replied “He took my daughter and he killed my wife... Someone's got to stop him
."

  "All on your own, very heroic.  I think you're right, but better men than you have tried and failed miserably. What makes you so special?"

  Danny
took a sip of his tea, savoring the hot liquid on his dry lips. "
I’ve been a soldier all my life! I’ve fought wars all over the world for a country that doesn’t care about me or my family and a Queen who has never heard of me..!
I'll tell you what makes me different, a dead terrorist finds it very difficult to blow up, maim and injure innocent women and children..."

  "Interesting idea, but that's a lot of dead terrorists on your conscience."

  Danny
suddenly lost his temper. "...I lost my conscience
when he killed my wife and took my daughter
...."

  "OK, calm down....
Why would a Terrorist do that? I mean, take your daughter. If he’s on the run wouldn’t she be just more baggage..!
You should get some more rest. Before I leave though, not all Irishmen are bad people; even some of the so called Terrorists go to church on a Sunday."

  "When can I leave?"

  "As soon as you feel up to it. Just follow the coastal road north, there's an old bike in the shed that you can have."

  "Thanks..."

 
Pat laughed loudly and took a long sip of his tea. "It'll take you about two days
with the wind on your back
."

  Danny
slept soundly for the next eighteen hours, only being woken once for a meal. Soon he felt strong enough to go for a short walk by the sea. Leaning against a rock, he gazed out to the sea and wondered why it had delivered him to land. Why hadn't it taken him? Drowning wasn't that bad, or so he had heard.

  It was a lovely day; it reminded him of the only time he had taken his wife and kids to
Blackpool
the previous summer. He had shown them how to build
sandcastles and how to paddle. Sahra was afraid of the Donkeys at first, but eventually he had coaxed her onto one of them.

  He realised that in all the confusion which the lust for revenge brings, he had almost lost his reason. The things that mattered most to him had been torn from his mind and replaced with those sick dark thoughts of
death and destruction. 'For fuck
sake
', he thought
I've killed
people
.

  And what about Beth,
could he love her so soon after Claudia, or was she nothing more than
a subconscious meal ticket? Danny
was snatched from his daydreaming by the sounds of laughter. He watched as two children and a large Alsatian paddled in the near freezing sea, screaming everytime a wave crashed against their legs.

Eventually the kids reached him
. " Hello." He said softly not wanting to scare them away. Parents  are  so  quick  to  jump  to  the  wrong  conclusions  these  days.

  "Hello Sir." Replied the young boy
politely
.

  "Do your parents know you're down here on your own?"

  The girl giggled. "Of course they do."

"Where do you live?"

  "Up there on the hill."
The boy said and squinted as he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.

  "I guess I'll be seeing you later
then." With that and a wave
he returned to the Vets house.

  Some twenty minutes later he arrived only to find a police van parked outside. The sheer shock of seeing it nearly knocked him over, he had to steady himself on a nearby tree, then panicked and stumbled in to the shed making more noise than he wanted to. He lay there trembling with anger. 'How could they have found me'? His mind screaming for answers, he scrambled to a broken old window just as the policeman was leaving. As soon a
s the van was out of sight Danny
ran over to the house.

  "Was he looking for me?"  He shouted as he burst through the open door.

  "Calm yourself down. I was simply giving his dog a jab."

  There was a massive sigh of relief. "Thank God, I thought I was
a gonner when I saw that van
.

  Patrick suddenly looked serious. "I think you better leave sooner than we discussed. That Policeman was telling me about bits of people washing up on beaches, up and down the coast. If they start sniffing harder, they might just find themselves a big piece.... If you know what I mean."

  "In that case, I'll better leave now; I don't want to get you in to any trouble.... Where's that bike?"

***

    Beth sat on her bed by the telephone, absentmindedly playing with her hair. She w
as worried, very worried. Danny
was four days late now, without as much as a note or a phone call. He could even be dead she thought. A gentle tap on the door shook her from those morbid thoughts.

  "The Maid
service
, sheet exchange."

  "The door isn't locked, come in."

  A pretty young girl of about eighteen glided in to the room, followed by an older man in his late thirties, possibly older. He had greasy black hair and stank of alcohol. As soon as Beth removed herself from the bed, the girl got busy stripping it.

  Beth studied the man, there really didn't seem any reason for him to be there, except to gaze longingly at the girls legs and bottom everytime she bent over.

  "Nice day, isn't it?"  Beth
s
aid. She had been practicing her Irish accent all week without success. Her own European mixed accent would have to do.  "I'm going for a walk.
Can you suggest anywhere nice?
"

  "Not really the time of year for tourists.... Is it?" 
T
he man
sneered
. "...Are you on businesses?
” He looked her up and down, his eyes settling on her breasts. “
We don't get many of your type here."

  "Oh really, what is my type?" She snapped back. "Why don't you help the girl instead of trying to look up her skirt?"  No longer able to conceal her distaste for this horrible little man, she snatched up her bag and stormed out of the r
oom in a rage
.

  "I don't have to
do the
work; I am the manager of this place."  He shouted after her.

  Somewhat calmer by the time she reached the reception desk, a smart young man asked her how she was enjoying her stay in the hotel.

  "Your manager is a disgusting slime bag."
Beth snapped.

  Beth told the young man exactly what had happened. He seemed very shocked and apologetic.

   "..Well, I can assure you that he wasn't the manager, infact he sounds just like our cellar man Mr. Clark."

  "Oh damn.... I forgot my purse."  Beth
lied and put on the full dizzy brunette act
. "Would you be so kind as to escort me back to my room?"  She knew exactly what the couple would be doing by now.

  "Of cou
rse."  He said.  "Being the actual manager of this hotel
, I would be delighted. Just give me one moment."

  He arranged for a replacement at reception and or
dered a security guard to accompany
them.

  "Right.... Everyone
be
quiet."  He whispered as they reached the room. He seemed very excited as he sneaked silently up to the door and tried the handle.... “
It's
Locked from the inside." He motioned f
or the guard to unlock the door
.

  All three were inside the room before the occupants had time to react. The scene before them was like something out of an ‘X’ rated carry on film. The young maid was bent over a table with her skirt up around her armpits and her knickers down around her ankles.

  "I suppose this means I'm fired."
The man said as he pulled his pants up.

  "You both are. Collect your cards and get out.
Sharon
, I thought you knew better."

  "Sorry."  She mumbled
almost incoherently
,
and with
her fac
e bright red with embarrassment she rushed from the room in tears.

  "
Me and you later
you foreign slut..!
"
He said to Beth and
tried to push past her to make good his escape, but Beth brought her knee up hard smashing it
in to his groin
. He screamed and slumped to the floor in agony.

  "Don't call me a slut."

  "I don't think he will give you anymore trouble Miss." 
T
he Manager
said
as he
desperately
tried
to keep his composure. "Get rid of him."

  The guard picked up Mr. Clark and dragged him towards the stairs.

  "Thank you."  Beth said and smiled
.

  "Perhaps there’s something else I can do for you Miss?"

  "No... Really, you've done enough already..... Oh there is one thing though; would you be so nice as to send a newspaper up?"

  "Certainly... which one
would you like
?"

  She thought for a moment, then "... All of them."

  He laughed. "I'll attend to that personally."

  A short time later there was a quiet knock on the door and the handle turned.

  "Who is it?"   Beth
cried, she was
half expecting the cellar man to return.

  "It’s Mr. 
Johnston
, I’ve got
your papers here."  He straightened his tie and tried to see his reflection in the doors shiny brass numbers.

 
"Just one
second."  Jumping off the bed, she threw on a silk night robe and removed the chair from the door which swung open on its own. "Come in."

  "I'll get that fixed....."  He said and handed her some newspapers. "....This afternoon, failing that we can move you to another room."

  "Yes, I would feel safer with a door that I can lock."

  "Ehm... look."  He mumbled turning red with embarrassment.  "There's a party at a friends ho
use tonight and I was wondering
if you would like to go.... With me.
.?
"  He blushed again and averted his eyes, unable to maintain his gaze.

  "I would love to..."  She replied.  "But I am waiting for my boyfriend."