Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix (36 page)

“So, Mr Steel, it appears my men didn’t find you after all.”

Steel Smiled smugly and tilted his head in a defiant gesture. “No, I guess they didn’t.”

The two men sized one another up. “You are full of surprises, Mr Steel,” began the blonde-haired mercenary. “I must say, my employer finds you most interesting.”

This was a new piece of information for Steel. It seemed that these were not just mercenaries making a quick buck, this was an entire organization: the organization his father was trying to root out. The people who had killed his family all those years ago. He glared at his enemy. Even with his eyes covered by the sunglasses, Mr Jones could sense the clear cold hatred.

“Oh, you’ll never guess just how many surprises I’ve got lined up.” As the Englishman spoke there was a rumble from down below. Then a massive explosion ripped a hole in the side of the vessel.

“Oops,” said Steel. “You’re not the only one who can play with explosives.”

Jones lunged for Steel, who simply rolled out of the way. Another explosion rocked the ship knocking both men off their feet. But Jones was quick and he forward-rolled to Steel’s position and smashed down with one punch to the face and then an upper cut to the stomach.

Detective Steel spat blood just as the large man grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

“Well, Mr Steel let us see how un-killable you really are,” Jones snarled.

Just then another explosion rocked the ship, knocking them off balance. Steel head-butted his adversary then, as Jones dropped, Steel brought his knee up to Jones’s groin. The large man bent forwards in agony, only to be met by Steel’s knee to his jaw. Jones spat teeth and bloody saliva. Quickly snatching a blade from behind his back, he swept forwards, slicing a nick into Steel’s torso.

Steel looked down at the rip in his top, and saw the faint line of red that stretched across his muscular stomach.

“So, Mr Steel, to the test, who is the better man?” Jones shouted.

The Englishman looked around in amazement: this man wanted to have a knife fight as the ship was being ripped apart. Steel rushed for the side. Suddenly instinct told him to drop down, just as a twelve-inch blade whizzed past his head.

“I knew you were a coward.” Jones said.

Steel stood up and faced the man. “There is a difference between bravery and stupidity. At this moment staying on board an exploding ship is going into the realms of being friggin nuts.”

Jones gave an evil grin. “Don’t you want to find out who is the better man?”

Steel shook his head. “Not really.” He moved away

“Or to find out who killed your parents? You never did find that out, did you?”

Steel turned, this time slowly, his teeth bared.

“Now we shall see.” Jones produced a boot knife. “Come, my Lord. let us do battle.”

McCall looked through the binoculars to see the two men fighting. “My God,” she called out. “It’s Steel and some monster of a man. They’re fighting.”

Tony looked at her, confused, and took the binoculars from her. “Is he nuts? Don’t he realize that thing’s going to go blow up any minute?”

In front of them the boats were being filled with members of the SWAT teams, while others clung to the sides.

Explosion after explosion ripped the ship to pieces, shards of metal being sent flying with each eruption, but the men battled on. Jones was surprised by the sheer power and anger that drove this beast. Now he realized that what had left the mansion all those years ago was no longer a man. Jones knew for the sake of the organization that Steel had to be put down.

The two men faced each other. Jones saw that Steel had scars all over his body, but it was not fazing him. For the first time in his life he felt fear. He now understood all the stories he had heard about the wrath of the Phoenix and now he knew just what it meant.

“Come on, Steel,” he taunted. “If you still have the strength.”

He gripped the knife tighter. After seeing him attack again and again he knew Steel would rush headlong and try to dodge the knife and get in a couple of punches, but now he was ready for him. With anticipation, he watched Steel start his run up. Jones gripped the knife tightly and braced himself: this time he would leave the knife strike for last.

As Steel grew near, he hit the deck and slid, knocking Jones to the ground. As the blond man’s back slammed against the deck, Steel knelt on his arms and gave him six massive right hooks to the face. Blood flowed freely and the sound of crunching bone filled his ears.

Detective Steel stood up, panting and breathless. “Come on, you gutless wonder, come and get me if you’re able. I’ll make you bleed for my family, I’ll make you all bleed.”

Then Steel was knocked backwards by a massive explosion. Once the smoke had cleared he saw pieces of metal had pierced the deck and something had decapitated his enemy. Steel smiled at the irony that the man’s own weapons had caused his death. Turning, he jumped into the water, just as the ship was vaporized by a final, incredibly powerful explosion.

 From the vehicles everyone cheered. They had made it, and it was all over. However, McCall and the others didn’t cheer, instead they ran down towards the dock, intent on knowing Steel’s fate. McCall ran, her heart pounding as she picked up speed. Her arms pounded like an old locomotive, and her eyes were transfixed on the harbor, hoping to catch a glimpse of him coming out of the water.

A loud cracking sound filled the air, and then something hit her. At first, it did not register until she found herself falling down. The others hit the deck, taking cover behind crates and machinery.

“Sniper” Tooms shouted as he watched McCall spin and hit the ground hard.

“Sam, are you okay?” called out the Captain with tears in his eyes as he looked over to where she lay motionless and feared the worst.

Two badly injured hands broke the surface of the water and grabbed the sides of the harbour wall. Pulling himself out of the sea, Steel rolled onto his back and gasped for air. His head fell to the side as the rest of the ship continued to erupt, reminding him of the Fourth of July celebrations

He sat up and saw someone lying on the jetty. Standing up, he slowly moved forwards, and his heart began to pound frantically in his chest. The closer he got the more he could see of the woman on the jetty, and memories of all the women from his past merged together in his mind. Just a couple of feet away he dropped to his knees as the strength left his legs. Brant and the others helpless to do anything in fear of joining their colleague. McCall was bait and Steel was the prize and they couldn’t do a damn thing to help either of them.

On his hands and knees the battle scarred man crawled towards McCall’s limp body, leaving bloody trails of battle on the ground.

The Englishman reached out a hand to grasp her pale flesh but the few feet between them seemed like a chasm. Tears cascaded down his face making his facial wounds sting, as he crawled closer and closer, his body numb from memories of past conflicts. From here, he could smell the mix of sweet perfume and the metallic tang of fresh blood. Brant and the others watch in trepidation as Steel picked up her limp body and held it close, doing all he could to squeeze life back into her shattered form.

Steel kissed her forehead, and as he rocked her back and forth he spoke softly in to her ear. “It’s going to be okay, you will see.”

This was a broken man the police officers saw before them. Never could they have imagined that after all this he would crumble. Only the Captain knew that he wasn’t there with McCall. He was back in the attic of his ancestral home with his wife as she lay dying .

A smell wafted onto the breeze, a smell of bad deodorant and body odour. And a laugh that he had not heard for so long suddenly pierced his ears. Steel faced forward, and as he listened, he heard the click of a revolver’s hammer being drawn back. A blink of an eye was all it took.

Brant and the others never even saw him toss the blade. But in that blink of an eye the large bald man was on the floor, holding the gushing mess where his trigger finger used to be. The chromed weapon had tumbled from his grip. Steel didn’t really know if someone or something had guided the knife or it had just been blind luck, but there was an added bonus, as the .50 calibre revolver span towards the ground, firing as it fell, and blowing off the man’s left foot.

Steel stood up and walked towards the bleeding man. He was almost in a trance, unable to hear the others calling him. He reached down, grabbed the man by the collar, and started to drag him towards a tool shed.

“Steel, what the hell are you doing?” yelled the Captain. “You’re a cop for God’s sake!”

They watched him turn round and for the first time they saw him without his glasses. His emerald green eyes stared back at them looking lifeless, soulless, sending a chill down their spines.

The Captain saw something hit the ground in front of them and, in horror, he saw Steel’s badge lying there.

“I’m not a cop anymore,” he yelled.

And they watched, frozen in fear as he dragged the screaming man into the shed. There was a loud bang as the door shut and locked, followed by a bone-chilling scream.

SEVENTY

As she lay in the hospital bed listening to the sounds of people walking up and down the corridors, the squeak of safety shoes on non-slip floors, ringing phones answered by loud-voiced nurses, Sam felt safe but disappointed. All of her colleagues had been to visit and her room looked more like a flower store, and Get-Well cards littered a small table next to the door, a testimony to her colleagues’ affection for her.

However, John Steel had not been in. After all the times he had just appeared from the shadows, why couldn’t he turn up now? The one time she needed him and he was not there.

Sam turned as Tina entered, holding a bowl of cherries and a card.

“Hi, honey, how you feeling?” Tina asked as she watched McCall trying to sit up.

“Uh uh, you lay right where you are,” Tina told her, seeing the pain in her friend’s face.

“So, any word from
you know who
?”

Sam McCall shook her head, even though it hurt to do so.

“So what’s the last thing you remember?”

McCall closed her eyes for a moment. “Steel dragging some bleeding guy into a shed. They say that he killed Steel’s family, he never mentioned anything.”

Tina smiled. “Well, he never really gave anything up. Now I know why.”

The silence was broken by Tina’s cell phone vibrating in her bag. Taking it out she saw it was from the precinct.

“What happened to Steel after that?” Sam asked.

Tina put the phone away. “He threw the guy to the Captain, nobody knows why, hell if it had been me I would have killed the bastard!”

They both laughed, a breeze blew the curtains and Tina walked over and closed the window. “You need anything, babe?”

McCall shook her head and smiled painfully. Tina kissed Sam on the forehead and left.

“I couldn’t do it.”

A voice from the shadows at the other end of the room startled her.

“Steel?” she called out.

He walked out of the shadow and there he was, larger than life. Her expression ranged from pure joy to astonishment.

“What do you mean, you couldn’t?”

He sat in the chair next to the bed. “After years of searching for them in the end I couldn’t bring myself down to their level. You taught me that, Sam, thank you.”

She winced in pain, as she tried to smile.

“Look on the bright side,” he said encouragingly. “Next time the guys are showing off their scars you can beat them hands down.”

McCall tried not to laugh. “What about you?” she asked.

He stood up. “I’m still with the unit but I have some leave so I’m off back home. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up.”

A worried look suddenly came over McCall’s tired looking face.

He walked up to her and stared into her sparkling blue eyes. She returned his gaze, wishing he would take off those damned glasses so she could look at him properly.

He edged closer and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. She closed her eyes and tilted her head forwards. Her lips open slightly to catch the kiss, but his mouth landed softly on her forehead. Sam’s eyes opened as a solitary tear rolled down her cheek. Raising his hand to catch the tear she brushed her cheek against his hand. He smiled and stood up.

Walking to the window, he turned back to her.

“The ones who shot you are just pawns, you know that. They have been chasing me for years.” She managed to sit up.

“You don’t have to run anymore,” she told him as he smiled at her reassuringly.

“I was never running just waiting. But it’s time to bring the fight to them.” He walked forward and placed a blue rose on her pillow. Picking up the flower, she inhaled the perfume. She felt a sudden waft of cold air that made the curtains of the bed space opposite billow. She watched him put his right hand over his heart and then take a small dignified bow. As he did so he moved back into the shadows of the dark room.

With a scream of pain, she reached for the light switch, only to find the room empty. McCall winced in pain as she got up and moved to the window. Looking out upon the night, the breeze was refreshing against her skin and the moon was as full and bright as a winter’s morning. Holding up the rose, she once more inhaled its sweet scent. He was gone for now but she knew deep down that one day he would be back.

In the darkness of Steel’s apartment, the priest watched Steel pack a suitcase. Their mood was sombre and conversation short.

“Where are you off to?” the clerical man’s words disappointed and intrigued him. Steel took a handful of black suits that still hung on their hangers and carefully placed them into the sturdy suitcase.

 “I have to go to London to follow up a lead.”

Gabriel stood up and walked towards the window. The orange glow of the city’s lights seemed soothing, and he could see why Steel preferred to have the lights off.

“A lead? From who?” he asked. He saw Steel smile coldly and knew then he did not really want to know.