Revenge (8 page)

Come on, Jason. We are waiting for you,” Joanne murmured, grabbing Jason's hand and pulling him inside. She led him to the table where Jean and Martin were smiling broadly at them. Jason then realized Joanne was still holding his hand. He immediately let go and started to blush. He was worried about the man by the postcards, but he told himself that it was just his imagination. What he didn't see was the man on the Vespa scooter taking picture after picture of the happy group.

“Looks like you've already found yourself a girl, Jason,” Martin said and grinned, knocking Jason with his elbow.

Joanne beamed. Her large dark eyes sparkled.

“I'll have whatever Jason is having,” Joanne said as she moved her chair closer to his.

Distracted and still a little rattled, Jason retorted angrily. “Order your own stuff and don't hold my hand again. I already have a girlfriend,” he barked above the noise of the music.

When the waitress brought them their food, she asked if Joanne was all right. She noticed her face was red and tears were running down her cheeks. Jason felt guilty and was quiet until they got back to the villa.

Everyone quietly drifted off to different parts of the villa and went to bed. Jason was just about to turn over when Martin pounced on his bed, pinned him down, and glared into Jason's face, his nose touching Jason's.

“You upset that Joanne again, and I'll give you a black eye, karate or no karate. You got that?” Martin hissed at Jason, spitting into his face at the same time. Jason thought about throwing him off and hitting him, but Martin was just trying to be protective. It was a noble thing to do.

“Okay. I'm sorry. I'll apologize to her in the morning. Get off me.”

“Good,” Martin said, pushing himself up off of Jason. “Next time, you won't get a warning.”

Jason turned over. He wished it was over and he was lying in his own bed or getting ready for school at St. Joseph's. He wished he was eating Mrs. Beeton's fabulous cooking and carrot cake and seeing his friends, Scott and Catherine.

Catherine—

With that thought, he fell asleep.

• • •

The next two days were uneventful. Joanne kept her distance from Jason and stayed close to Jean. Martin seemed to spend a lot of time alone on a lower lawn that overlooked the villa below. Jason spent hours in the pool, swimming length after length. When he warmed up, he pulled himself out of the pool and practiced his karate katas.

“Jean, why are boys so weird? Martin spends all day on the lawn by himself looking out at sea with the binoculars, and Jason swims nonstop for an hour and then spends hours doing those stupid karate movements. I hate karate. My father and my brothers do it, as it's our tradition, but not me,” Joanne whined.

“Keeah,” Jason shouted as he made a strike forward. He moved on the balls of his feet and toes with precision, speed, and grace. Sweat trickled down his chest and dried in the strong sun.

They watched Jason as he gracefully moved across the pool deck with a variety of karate stances and moves.

“He seems like a nice boy. We can go into town again tonight and try a different restaurant.”

“Yeah, and I won't make the mistake of holding Jason's hand.” She paused and grinned. “Although he did apologize for that, but I've still not forgiven him. I hope he feels bad.”

Jason went inside and came out of the villa carrying two glasses of water. He smiled at Jean and Joanne. Jean smiled back, but Joanne looked away with her nose raised. He walked down to the lower lawn, where Martin was lying on his stomach and looking over the edge. He had been here for a few hours. Jason wanted to talk to someone, so he thought it was time he made up with Martin.

“I thought you might want a cold drink. It's hot out here,” Jason said as he approached.

“Shhh. Keep your voice down,” Martin snapped back, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He sat up and took the glass of water and then said, “Thanks.” He drank the water down without stopping, wiped his mouth, and burped. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked, grinning.

“Sure can,” Jason said, grinning back and sitting down next to him.

“Look down there.” Martin pointed down on the villa below. Jason lay on his stomach and looked. A woman was sunbathing naked next to the pool. She was lying on her back and revealing her body.

“You dirty old man,” Jason whispered. “So this is what you have been looking at.” Jason turned and grinned at Martin. Martin lay down next to him, both boys watching.

“I don't think this is right,” Jason whispered.

“Then go back to the pool, but don't say anything to my mum. I'm staying here.”

Jason started to lift himself up to go back, but curiosity was getting the better of him, even though he knew it was wrong.

“Do you think she would let me rub some sunscreen on her?” Martin joked, gesturing with his hands on his own chest.

Jason had to put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud. Suddenly a loud scream came from behind them up at the villa. It was so loud that the sunbathing lady also heard it and looked up. She caught both boys watching her. Immediately, Jason jumped back, his face flushed bright red with embarrassment.

“She saw us! She'll think we're perverts or something. It's all your fault,” Jason said, completely flustered.

Martin lay on his back, laughing at Jason. “If she doesn't like it, she should cover up.”

“Come on. We'd better check what that scream was about.”

As they walked back up toward the villa, Martin teased Jason, whose face was still bright. They were still laughing as they walked into the villa.

Just inside the door, Martin felt a cold metal object shoved against his head. Jason turned to face the threat, but it was too late.

A second man appeared and held Jason at gunpoint. They were taken into Jean's bedroom. She was sitting on the bed and crying. Her hair was a mess, and she had a cut just below her left eye. Joanne was hugging her and sobbing. Two more gunmen were in the room, smiling at the boys. They were all wearing black T-shirts and tight black pants. All four men were Chinese and in their midtwenties. Jason could not be sure, but one looked like the man he had seen in Malaga.

“I don't like to kill children, but I have a job to do. Your husband has caused our boss many problems. So now his family will die. The girl comes with us,” a gunman coldly said. Martin climbed onto the bed and hugged his mother.

“What about this boy?” asked a shorter man with a scar on his face, pointing at Jason.

“He wasn't part of the job, but he could call the cops before we get clear.” The man looked at Jason, trying to decide what to do with the boy.

“Tie me up and gag me, sir. Make sure I can't get free for hours and hours. You'll be far away with Joanne by the time someone finds me,” Jason said. He then crouched down and held out his hands in a begging position. “Please, sir. Don't hurt me.” He started a fake cry. As far as Boudica was concerned, Jason had been killed in the bomb at the Bristows' apartment.

“Very well. Get something to tie up the boy with,” he ordered. One of the men left to find some rope. “You see, I have a heart. It's just business. Now who wants to go first? Mother?”

Joanne clung tight to Jean. Jason caught Joanne glaring at him with hate in her eyes. She was now convinced he was a coward.

“I found a rope. I can tie him to the stove. Boy, come with me,” said the returning gunman. Jason followed him to the kitchen. Once next to the stove, Jason put his hands together, ready to be tied up. The gunman set his gun on top of the stove and moved toward Jason.

The move was so fast the gunman saw just a blur. Jason grabbed the man's shirt with his left hand and pulled him toward him. At the same time, Jason threw a full-fisted punch, using everything he had. When his fist was inches from connecting, Jason also threw his shoulder into the blow to increase the power. It struck the man's windpipe, completely shattering it. He collapsed onto the kitchen floor and held his throat. Jason grabbed the kitchen towel and dove down on the man. He forced the towel against the man's mouth so his gasping sounds could not be heard. After just over a minute, the man's wriggling body went limp.

Not wanting to waste a second, Jason picked up the gun and ran back toward the bedroom. The leader had his gun aimed at the bed. Jason sprinted toward the door, aimed, and fired, shooting the gunman in the shoulder and knocking him down. Jean and Joanne screamed. The loud bang and recoil of the gun also gave Jason a scare. He had shot a gun before, but he was still surprised by how loud it was.

Jason ran through the door, twisted his body, and aimed the gun at the man behind the wall. Before the man could raise his gun, Jason shot him twice. The first bullet hit him in the neck, but the second missed and buried itself in the wall. Jason kept his momentum going and leapt onto the bed. He landed on his right leg and then he bounced and kicked out with his left at the fourth gunman, catching the man in his chest.

The gunman was thrown back against the wall. He was stunned but still standing, and worse still, he held onto his gun. Jason landed next to him on the floor and struck out at the hand with the gun. It fired and sent a bullet into the ceiling.

With his other hand, the gunman grabbed for Jason's weapon. He wrapped his hand around Jason's, which was still gripping the gun he'd gotten off the guy in the kitchen, and tried to turn it on Jason. Overpowered by the man's stronger hands, Jason brought his knee up into the man's groin. The gunman screamed out and fell to his knees, taking Jason with him. But the man still clung to both guns.

“Help me,” Jason shouted to Martin. He was now pinned down and was slowly losing the grip on his gun. No help came. The others huddled together, terrified. Jason tried a judo throw. He was used to training with adults and hoped he could use the man's weight advantage against him. It worked, and the man went over Jason's shoulders. He landed on his back but didn't let go of the guns.

But Jason saw the barrel of the gun was now covered by the man's hand, so he pulled the trigger. Blood splattered both of them, and the man let go of both guns and clenched his hand while he cursed and screamed in pain. A bullet to the head silenced him. Jason got up and kneeled down next to the leader, who was lying on the ground and holding his shoulder. Jason stuck the gun under the wounded man's chin.

“Who sent you?” Jason shouted. Before he could answer, a bullet zinged past Jason. A fifth gunman entered and shot at Jason again, but he had missed and hit his own man. Jason dove behind the bed. He looked under it and could see a man creeping forward. He shot his last two bullets into the man's foot and ankle. The gunman screamed in pain and crashed to the ground. Jason was up and over the bed. He picked up the man's gun, kneeled down, and asked the same question.

“Okay, since you killed him, I'll ask you. Who sent you?” Jason shouted after he stuck the gun under the man's chin.

“I don't speak English,” the man said back in Chinese. He was in severe pain. Sweat beads started to form on his face.

Jason asked again, this time in Chinese, “Who sent you? If you don't tell me, I will shoot.” The Youngs and Joanne looked at Jason in amazement. Not only could he shoot and fight, he could also speak Chinese.

“Boudica.”

“How many others are there?” Jason asked, pushing the gun harder against the man.

“Three.” With that answer, Jason pulled back his gun. With his right hand, he squeezed the man's main artery to the brain. Within a few seconds, the man was unconscious.

“Come on. We have to get out of here,” Jason said as he picked up another gun. “Come on…move. There's another three hit men, and they will stop at nothing until you two are dead.”

Jason crept to the front door. He could see two cars farther up the drive. Alongside them, there stood three men watching the villa. Jason ran back into the bedroom, where the others were still sitting on the bed and sobbing.

“Mrs. Young, we are going out the window. We will climb down to the next villa and try to get help.”

With tears running down her face, she nodded back. Jason went first and the others followed. They crept down to the lower lawn and started to climb down the bank to the villa below. It was quite steep, and when they got close to the bottom, they found a twelve-foot drop to the patio on the villa below. Jason looked down. He was sure he could jump it but unsure if Mrs. Young and Joanne could. He paused, looking for a better way. Martin caught up with him and jumped down.

“Pass Joanne down to me,” he said, raising his arms. He was then knocked across the back of the head with a broomstick.

“
Pervers…aller loin,
” the young woman shouted in French. “
Pervers!
”

Martin crouched down and tried to defend himself. Joanne let out a huge scream. Jason quickly turned and told her to be quiet, but it was now probably too late.

“
Nous
avons
besoin
d'aide. Appelez la police,
” Jason shouted to her in French. The woman looked up at Jason and pointed.

“
Pervers
,” she screamed.

“
Appelez
la
police
,” Jason shouted back as he lowered Joanne down. The French woman decided to follow Jason's advice and call the police. Jean jumped down herself followed by Jason.

“What was she saying?” Jean asked.

“I don't know. I told her to call the police,” Jason lied as he checked to see if they were being followed.

“I thought she called you a—” Jean said only to be interrupted by Martin.

“Well, she
is
French. They're all crazy. Too much wine, snails, and frog legs,” Martin said, trying to change the subject and, with rolling eyes, mimicking someone drinking. “Jason, just how many languages do you speak?”

“Run!” Jason shouted. “They're coming.”