Hindsight (39 page)

Injured and aching, Lockman stared at the comms-unit, wondering if he’d heard right. With an ETA of only seven minutes for the evac team, it was clear that Mamma Bear had been watching, as planned, but he had no idea what was meant by ‘successful handover’ and couldn’t ask for details with two civilian detectives standing within earshot. ‘Repeat prior instruction? Over.’

Patterson snatched the hand-held mike and pressed the side-button. ‘Alpha Lima out. Echo Papa here. Stage one complete. Echo Papa out.’

‘Hey! What …?’ Lockman said, catching the mike as Patterson tossed it back to him. ‘What do you mean, stage one?’

‘Not your concern,’ Patterson replied. ‘You’re relieved.’ He withdrew a sealed envelope from his shirt pocket and handed it to Lockman to read the bad news for himself. ‘I outrank you again, Lance Corporal. I’m assuming command of this unit.’

Patterson walked back to the others, leaving Lockman to slump against his Hilux. He read the orders twice more to be sure. In the distance, he could hear the chopper and fire units coming fast, but for him, time had stopped. Garland had kicked him in the balls, and not just by repealing his field commission. He’d expected that much. Having achieved the rank of lieutenant under another name in another life, he knew he still had a lot to do before he could earn back that rank. It was the way she’d done it, keeping him in the dark while fully briefing the rest of his team. It was a Pacific Rim job, all over again.

Only this time, he had the home ground advantage. He could do something.

He saw an army Blackhawk touch down in the carpark of a security-lit kindergarten down the road. Flames made landing any closer to the Greppia store dangerous, and the others were already down there, preparing to load while two medics jogged uphill with their kit to attend to him. Passing them halfway, he shrugged them off and grabbed Staff Sergeant Patterson by the arm.

‘You’re on leave,’ Patterson shouted over the whine of the rotors. ‘There’s nothing more you can do here, son!’

‘I need to know what Mamma Bear meant by the handover?’

Patterson patted him on the shoulder. ‘What do you think? You can’t catch the big fish without running out your bait.’

As Patterson turned away, Lockman caught sight of a slim-line headset protruding from his pocket and realised he’d been in contact with Mamma Bear on a separate frequency all along.

Lockman hooked a fist at him, but his injuries slowed him. Patterson deflected and caught him into a bear-hug, noticeably gentler with Lockman’s ribs than he could have been.

‘I’m letting this go,’ he said quietly enough that only Lockman could hear him. ‘You did good here, kid, no matter what anyone says, and you went through a lot with that whole Kitching-torture ordeal a while back, so don’t make me boot you off to a stockade. Enjoy what’s left of your holiday and don’t forget those two extra days.’ Then he shouted for the medics and handed him over, not letting go until they had a firm grip on him and orders to hold him for at least half an hour — while Lockman pocketed the slim-line headset from Patterson’s vest, hoping he’d be long gone before he noticed it missing.

‘Police chopper’s on its way,’ Pobody reported. ‘The medics can hitch a ride back when they’re done with the sherlocks — unless he needs a lift to hospital too?’

Lockman shook his head, knowing his ribs were only about as sore as they had been a fortnight beforehand when Colonel Kitching had tried to talk him into confessing to the murder of his previous sergeant. Time was the only cure for his hairline fracture and bruising, and he needed more of that to recuperate, which was why he’d opted for a quiet fishing holiday in the first place.

Still, as he watched them all climb into the cargo hold of the Blackhawk, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed and up against a slippery slope that was near to mountainous. Only Davit Uno spared him a pained look of sympathy, but their silence and obedience as they boarded, made them all complicit. His blood boiled to think how Mira Chambers must feel by now.

‘Where to?’ he heard Patterson shout as he boarded with the others.

‘To Straddie,’ replied the loadmaster. ‘Buckle-up, people. There’s a storm blowing in.’

M
ira woke to the sensation of falling — her worst nightmare.

She thrashed about, and remembered falling out of her favourite poet tree as a child and breaking bones as if they were eggshells. She screamed, knowing Chloe’s body had fallen too — driven over a cliff — but it took barely a second more before Mira landed on her back on what felt like a mattress with lumps of pillows and dishevelled bedcovers.

Through the purple haze of yesterday, the bed sat metres away in the corner of a luxurious triangular-shaped room, leaving her cringing in mid-air beside a curious round window, which had a seal and lever-shaped latch, like a cookie jar. A porthole? Still regaining her senses, she couldn’t tell if the room was really warped into the shape of a blunt triangle, or only appeared that way. The wall curved near the head of the bed, where the low ceiling left barely enough head room to stand up, and outside the round window all she could see was a blank wall stained with rust. A neighbouring ship?

‘Comfortable?’ asked Greggie’s bodiless voice beside the bed.

Through a throbbing headache, Mira recognised that he sounded far too pleased with himself.

‘You want us to hold her down like GI-Jane?’ asked another voice nearby — rougher, thicker, with an accent maybe, just a hint of New Zealander.

‘Nah, she’s blind,’ Greggie replied. ‘How much trouble can she be?’

Mira glanced around the room, looking for anything to use against him. She heard multiple sets of boots shuffling away, then a door creaked and slammed, leaving behind the softer sounds of the one who smelled the most sinister. ‘Where’s Ben?’ she demanded. ‘I want to see him!’

‘Ha! I do love a bitch with a sense of humour. As I understand, you can’t see anything. Or, does it come and go, like he says — as shadows?’

‘Like who says?’

‘Ben Chiron, you stupid blond. Stay focused … oh yeah … Right.’ He laughed ‘Forget him. He’s no longer aboard. Now it’s your turn to whisper me a little secret?’

Mira spat at him. ‘I’m not telling you anything!’

‘Oh, and feisty too? I love it!’ He edged closer. ‘I took a peek under your shades, while you were out. Now I know why you wear them. You’re
freaky ugly
!’

‘That’s funny,’ Mira sneered. ‘Because my eyes only reflect who’s looking at me.’

He slapped her, making her cheek sting. ‘Reflect that, bitch … Come on,’ he teased, backing away noisily. ‘You want to make a thing of this? Try and hit me. I’ll make it easy.’

Mira shook her head, knowing she’d be vulnerable the moment she tried to grapple with him on his terms. ‘Where is Ben?’ she repeated more determinedly.

‘Oh, are we there yet, are we there yet?’ he repeated, sounding increasingly childish. ‘My father has him, but we’ve got business first, you and me. You’ve just signed up for my long-term team building program. If you can’t trust your own family, who can you trust?’ He laughed, sounding oddly unbalanced, and patted her cheek with an apology before dancing away again. ‘We’re going for a little cruise on the
love boat
, until we reach agreement.’

‘You said you’d take me to him!’

He chuckled, and she heard him start to undress. ‘What’s the rush? I ain’t never had me a blind bitch.’

‘No, wait! I already said I’d cooperate!’

‘Sure, and you will — guaranteed after I’m done with you. Sorry, bitch, but I have to mess you up enough while we’re having fun so rebelling won’t ever occur to you again.’

‘I won’t ever cooperate with you. I’d rather scratch out my eyes!’

‘Maybe I’ll do that for you.’ He swallowed loudly, as if struggling to maintain a hold on his own mixed emotions. ‘My father wants you so bad it’s hurting him, and I want him to hurt. You want that too, I expect, so after I’m done, you’ll be begging to do something for me. You’re going to make him hurt enough for both of us!’

‘I don’t understand.’ She coiled up away from him, feeling the two lace shawls come adrift from her hips and shoulders. ‘What’s your father ever done to you?’

‘It’s what he
hasn’t
done! Don’t you get it? You’re supposed to be the babe with the freaky ESP vision or whatever, so you should know already. He hasn’t paid me my dues! I’m the one who saved the whole counter-fitting scam from Uncle Theo.
He
was going to keep the whole beautiful deal to himself. And what thanks do I get from my Pops? I get to manage a
floor
now. He hasn’t cut me a bonus cheque since we started it! Well, that all stops right here. You’re my ticket to moving up in the organisation. You’re going to get me the code to his safe, all his passwords, files and all the names and details of his contacts overseas so I can use them myself. He’ll promote me for sure then, or he’ll sign his own death certificate.’

Mira screwed up her face. ‘You think you can blackmail a blackmailer and get away with it? You’re crazier than I am.’

He slapped her face again. ‘You think? Spread your legs and hoist your skirt, honey. Prepare to be boarded.’ He grabbed her knees, but Mira coiled up tighter, tucking her knees to her chin and locking her arms around her legs, fear overtaking her queasiness as the mattress rocked beneath her.

‘Oh yeah, tuck it up, baby. I can work with that too.’ He grabbed her by the hair, wrenched off the loose lace and rolled her roughly onto her side. ‘If being blind heightens your other senses like they say, you’ll soon find this orgasmic.’

‘No!’ she screamed as he climbed over her. ‘Get off me!’ She heard and felt her blouse collar rip but she stayed coiled tight like a spring so he couldn’t get at her chest. Outside, she heard laughter.

‘Prepare to be heightened!’ He slapped her hip, and as she squirmed under his invisible weight, his hand found her thigh and slid slowly up under her skirt until he reached her bikini pants. ‘Nude beige, my favourite.’ His finger glanced across her most private place and in reflex, she kicked out with both legs and twisted her hips, throwing him off her.

‘Bitch!’ he swore, picking himself up off the floor. ‘How did you do that?’

She’d had a decade of practice and knew that he’d be expecting to fight now. ‘Wait, wait!’ she said, raising her hands in defence. ‘Please! I’ve never done this with anyone!’

‘A virgin? Baby, that just makes me hotter for you. I ain’t never had me a willing virgin — certainly not one who’s got a grudge as big as mine against my father — so what’s it going to be now? You want to make this hard or easy?’

‘Easy on me,’ she pleaded. ‘Please don’t hurt me.’

‘That’s up to you. Nothing sexier than a girl with a belly full of baby and I love doing my part to make the whole world sexier. Also helps for keeping my hooks in you aside from the obvious benefits of long-term team building. Of course you can still fight, but you’ll lose. There’s no way out of here, except through me and my men — and I’ve got five of the biggest, hairiest bastards you’ll ever … feel.’

Mira could tell he was telling the truth; aside from the ghostly window and the curiously squat door that were both framed and painted to match each other like coffee jars, she could hear familiar gruff voices beyond the door, still laughing and making bets as if they were settling down to play cards.

‘Get your gear off. Do it yourself or I’ll go rabid.’ He took a step as if he’d already made the decision for her.

‘Okay, wait, wait!’ she cried. She’d escaped dozens of healthcare staff over the years, but none of them had been panting at her with a festering lust. She sat up slowly, and began to unbutton her blouse.

‘Oh, yeah, baby. That’s it. Nice and slow. Ditch everything but your shades. If I catch a glimpse of your peeps again I might puke on you.’

Mira gulped and slid the blouse slowly off her shoulders.

‘Yeah, that’s it. Now toss it to me.’

She did, but only weakly and balled up in a skewed direction so it would fall short on the end of the bed, hopefully giving the impression that she wasn’t quite sure where he was. She also needed the phone from the top pocket and couldn’t afford to let him hear any thud from it landing.

‘Don’t stop now. I want all flesh.’

Mira trembled, repositioning herself with one leg stretching out to find the nearest edge of the invisible bed, while reaching up behind her neck to unfasten her bikini top. ‘I can’t get the knot.’ She showed him how much her hands were shaking, and hoped he couldn’t tell that adrenaline was the cause, as much as fear.

‘Please don’t punish me. I just need a little help back here …’ She didn’t bother untying the front clasp between her breasts. She reached up to the knot behind her neck, feathering her hair to make sure it wouldn’t get in the way of her plan.

‘Sure thing, baby.’ He returned to the left side of the bed, resting with one knee between her legs. ‘Don’t try anything stupid again,’ he said as he leaned against her. ‘I won’t be so forgiving next time.’

Trembling as the moment for action drew nearer, Mira leaned away from him, ever so slightly. The knot behind her neck was already untied in her fingers with the ribbons of elastic trailing loose down her back. She leaned a little more, drawing him off balance, and felt his hot breath approaching her throat. One of his hands strayed down to her stomach for balance.

‘Mmm, you smell delicious,’ he whispered as he reached behind her neck. His other hand strayed lower to explore between her thighs, and when she offered no resistance, his mouth claimed her neck for a kiss. Then she wrenched back, flipped, turned and within a heartbeat, he was on his side with her body partly under him, using leverage and gravity to help tighten the neck ties of her string bikini around his throat. With her legs clamped tightly around his belly and his air choked off, he couldn’t utter a sound, but as he thrashed about and clawed at her face and throat, he rolled with her off the bed onto the floor, knocking her sunshades askew.

Mira stayed with him, keeping her eyes clamped shut against the pain of an unfiltered century, but she didn’t need to see anything. Each time he struggled and clawed to make the neck-string stretch enough to reopen his airway, she’d pump his lungs empty using a sudden squeeze of her legs, then tighten again on his throat before he could breathe in.

‘You wanted to be close to me?’ she whispered as he began to weaken. ‘I can play rough too,
Greggie.
Tell me where Ben is, or I’ll take you into darkness forever.’

His lips moved and he spluttered as if desperate to answer, so she slackened her grip a little to allow him a mouthful of air.

‘Home!’ he gasped, still clawing at his neck. ‘He’s at home, bitch! I’m gunna —’

‘Whose home? Yours?’

He shook his head, spluttering for more air.

‘Your father’s?’

He shook his head again, leaving Mira no choice but to allow him another breath.

‘Make me happy,’ she warned him.

He gasped and coughed as if stalling, so she choked off his air again briefly.

‘
His
home!’ he spluttered. ‘Last place … they’d look.’

‘Good boy, Greggie. Now one last question. Did General Garland make any attempt to rescue him?’

He shook his head, but the moment she gave him just enough slack to answer properly, he made a last-ditch effort to break free. She tightened her grip, but drained of strength herself, she couldn’t risk prolonging the struggle any more. She did the only thing she could, counting the seconds until he went limp, and when that happened too swiftly, she kept counting until she was sure that he’d lost consciousness. Having witnessed so many strangulations between bickering convicts and other deaths at the hanging tree, she was well acquainted with the minimum time it usually took. She also had personal experience with Colonel Kitching.

She rolled Greggie’s body away from her. No time to check if he was dead. Ben was a hostage in his own home, his mother in hospital with a cop boyfriend whose cover she’d blown before Greggie’s ambush — and the only person who could help any of them was trapped in the roof of a burning building.

Fixing her bikini top, skirt and shades, she scrambled for the ghostly porthole, stumbling the last few steps as the deck heaved. She braced herself against the wall and explored until she found the shape of its invisible cousin.

Looking down, she saw dark water outside and the hull of a neighbouring fishing trawler. Mira felt the rumble of an engine beneath her and sensed herself begin to move. She glided out through the side wall of the yacht and levitated across the water. Looking back she saw the ghost of a yacht remain behind — the
Navis Amoris
, still tethered yesterday to the marina.

Fumbling with the invisible latch in the real version of the yacht, she cranked open the watertight seal until the hatch felt wide enough for her to climb through. Fear caused her to falter. She could swim no better than a butterfly but every second’s delay was taking her into deeper water.

She gripped onto the top of the circular window-sill, pulled herself up and slid out into the cool night air, legs first — and giving in to her nightmare at last, she allowed herself to fall … into water.