Mullins lights up with smile and he nods emphatically.
‘No problem sir, I’ll make sure I’ll bring Frank home.’
Mullins and his partner walk away from Eddie and make their way out of the Incident room. Eddie smiles to himself, a self-smile of satisfaction. He takes out a cigarette and lights it up, inhaling the smoke as if he was victorious already. He strolls over to his office and walks in, shutting the door behind him. He gets out his phone and starts mashing the buttons. He takes another drag on his cigarette and smiles as he looks down at the message he just typed.
“It’s done” The message reads.
He clicks send and flips the phone back shut. He chucks it on to the sofa carelessly as he walks over to the mini bar. He once again pours another drink; the sound of the liquor hitting the tumbler is music to his ears, as he raises the glass in the air saluting himself, he downs the whisky.
Fifty Six
The year 2006: SIX YEARS BEFORE BOARDING THE TRAIN
Mrs Gardener is standing on her suburban porch watching the traffic go by. It’s a delightful evening of colours jumping out of the sky. The stars are shining brighter this night more so then she had ever seen. It seems as if the air its self is cleaner and the people passing by saying hello are more forgiving. She has always gotten along with her neighbours, but living in suburbia has taken its toll on the way she sees most people. It seems people change when receiving bonuses on their already meaty cheques. She isn’t one of them, or so she has always thought. Mrs Gardener has always enjoyed the good things in life, but what most people see as the luxuries in life, she sees as burdens. She enjoys good wine and people. Enjoys looking after kids and gets a tremendous satisfaction when cooking for her mum and dad on thanksgiving. People see her as a giving person, while she sees herself as a shadow of what she wants the world to be.
While she carries on watching the light traffic go by her family style home, she snaps back into reality as a car horn on the street jars her conscious. She shakes her head in disappointment as she notices two men shouting at each other a few hundred yards down her street. They are both out of their cars screaming obscene words at each other while holding up the traffic. She walks into her house, opening the classic style porch door within a door. She strides into her living room and admires the view, as it’s pristine and clean, as if she is expecting someone. She glances at the time on the clock on her wall. She starts to strip down to her French underwear. Her body looking immaculate and well-kept as if she goes to the gym regularly. Her front door bell rings and she turns around, walking over to the door she opens it wide and sees his face. She grabs him and pulls him into the house, closing the door behind, she pushes him up against it and starts kissing his neck.
‘Hello Mrs Gardener’ He says
She carries on kissing him, finally looking up at him and smiling.
‘Hello Jason’
Fifty Seven
Fredrick is tiring by now. The long crawl through the air ducts is one filled with cramp and hot air, as the sweat drips down his forehead he turns around to Nathan who is a mere few feet away.
‘It’s funny how an air duct for the AC can be so damn hot’ Whispers Fredrick
Nathan laughs quietly as he taps Fredrick on the leg
‘It’s okay man, let’s just keep going. We need to get out of here.’
‘Why are you touching me again? I told you star, I’m no batty boy’
Nathan stops crawling and punches Fredrick in the leg
‘I told you, I don’t know what that means, but I’m gathering that now you said that, you assume I’m gay, well I’m sorry to disappoint you, I’m not a batty boy. You call me that one more time; I’m going to kick your ass!’
Fredrick grabs his leg in pain
‘Why you do that for man? You crazy or something, you want to fight me, the man who is saving you, in an air duct? You crazy white boy’
‘Racism is not the answer Fredrick. Have I called you a black boy?’
Fredrick shakes his head
‘No, but if you did I would make sure I cave your face in bombaclart’
Nathan hears voices in the room below them. He signals Fredrick.
‘Be quiet, there’s someone below us’
‘No shit, there’s a whole bunch of people below us, guards, hostages, guns, explosives.’ Says Fredrick
Nathan and Fredrick carry on crawling through the air duct for a few minutes. They come across a T Junction.
‘Which way should we go? Asks Fredrick
‘How am I supposed to know, you’re the one who came through here.’
‘I know star, it’s just its different on the way out’
‘What do you mean different? They did not change the dam air duct layout in a day’
‘I know it’s different because I’m going the opposite way aren’t I, you stupid or something?’
‘I don’t think I’m the stupid one here, course you’re going the opposite way, that’s how backwards and forwards work!’
Fredrick turns back around to Nathan, this time squaring off to him, pushing Nathan back a few steps. Nathan pushes Fredrick back. Fredrick swings for Nathan, but Nathan ducks out of the way, while the punch lands firmly on the metal walling of the air duct, rattling the structure with a humongous clang. Suddenly the floor beneath them collapses as both men fall through the air duct into a room, landing hard on some concrete flooring. Both men dazed look at each other in spite as they sit up to draw breath. Nathan looks up at the ceiling and notices the massive hole in the air duct where they were crawling in a few seconds prior. Nathan looks at Fredrick who appears to be worse for wear as he grabs his arm, clutching it in pain.
‘Are you alright Fredrick?’
As Fredrick gasps for air, he’s hit in the back of the head with an AK47. Fredrick’s head snaps back to the ground, hitting it with a bloody thud. Nathan jumps in fear as he turns around to see a barrage of armed guards taking aim at him. Behind them, Connor Chase walks into view holding his trademark gun.
‘Glad you could join us Nathan, you gave me a scare. I was worried you left without saying goodbye’
Fifty Eight
Frank picklocks the padlock with a hair clip, he looks around making sure that no one is in his vicinity. He hears the clip snap in the lock.
‘Shit’
Frank takes a few steps back from the rusty warehouse door and takes another look around his surroundings. He notices the nearby layby where cars are sweeping by at high speeds. Frank times his actions. He notices headlights coming down the layby to his right, glistening through the chain link fence separating him from the road. Frank ducks to avoid the beaming lights. The car sweeps by with a whoosh. Frank peaks up over the fence and sees no oncoming traffic. He gets up and walks over to the nearby door once again. He draws his weapon and fires a shot into the padlock. It snaps and buckles at the force of the bullet. He smiles to himself.
‘That should do it’
He takes the buckled padlock off the door hinge and throws it on the floor. He opens the door to the warehouse and is greeted with a sheet of black. The whole room is pitch-dark. He manoeuvres himself into the black, feeling the wall for a light switch. He finds it and flicks the switch. The light bellows through the room, hitting his eyes with a fierce penetrating ray, obscuring his vision, making it go red for a few moments. His eyes refocus and light up with joy as he looks upon a mass of weapons and ammo stockpiled to the ceilings.
He walks over to the assortment of heavy weaponry and picks up a bolt action Remington MSR sniper rifle. He cocks the bolt back and pumps out a .338 calibre bullet that lands on the stone floor of the warehouse with an everlasting echo that dampens into the night. The smoke coming from the side of the rifle plumes into the air, as Frank cocks the bolt back one more time for good measure. He enjoys the sound of the projectile hitting the floor, as he takes aim with the MSR; he scopes into the far distance of the warehouse. He aims down the sights, four hundred meters; he flicks the laser sights on and takes a deep breath, his finger hovering over the trigger, twitching with excitement.