Jerry knelt in front of me, grabbed my sweater with both hands, and head-butted me on the bridge of my nose. Stars flashed in front of my eyes, and sharp, searing pain shot through my head.
He stood and cracked his knuckles. “That’s just the start of it.”
Anthony gestured to a guard. “Put them against the wall while we get prepared.”
Two goons grabbed me under each armpit and threw me against the side of the structure, near the end of its wall, away from the entrance. Jack bounced down next to me. Two guards stood in front of us, pointing AR-15s at our heads.
Anthony crouched in front of Jack. “Remember what you did to me in my garage?”
Jack spat in his face.
He fished a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his cheek, before thrusting his rifle butt into the side of Jack’s face.
“And you…” He turned to me. “In the Second World War, the Japanese would use a torture technique involving the forced ingestion of water. Let’s see how you like that.”
“How’s your house, Anthony?” I said.
He shook his head. “You really are a piece of work.”
I refused to beg for mercy from either of these two; it wouldn’t change their minds.
Jerry nudged in front of Anthony. “Did you go back to Montgomery?”
“We did. You need to start looking for a new home,” I said.
He advanced toward me, but Anthony held him back. “Take it easy. They need to feel everything…”
They both walked out of sight. I tried to make eye contact with the guard. He looked away.
“Look, mate, let me go—you can’t agree with this,” I said.
“You’re not getting out of here. Your brother isn’t either. These two have made us walk through walls to get hold of you. I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”
“What kind of bloke are you?” Jack said.
“I’m just a guy trying to survive. Now do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”
The shouting continued between Lea and Martina inside the building. Our chances of help from anywhere seemed nonexistent. Two men carried a large wooden table from around the side of the building and positioned it in front of us. Then they placed on it a drum of rope, bolt cutters, and a roll of masking tape.
Jerry returned, slipped a knife out of his belt, and cut lengths of rope from the drum. “You’re first, Jack. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.”
“You’ll never forget me after you see the state of your house,” Jack said.
Jerry shook his head. “You stupid fuck. I can choose a better place.”
The building door creaked open, and Martina leaned out. “Anthony, get over here.”
“He’s getting ready in the pump room,” Jerry said.
“Jerry said he’s going to slit your throat after he gets the launch codes from HQ,” I said to Martina.
Anything was worth a shot at this stage. Although they’d probably see straight through my weak attempt to drive a wedge between them.
“You’re pathetic,” she said. “Come on, Lea; let’s talk to Anthony.”
Lea’s face looked puffy and white as she followed Martina. It surprised me that she didn’t even look at us.
“What are you going to talk about?” Jerry called after her. “You’re not letting these two go—that’s not part of our agreement.”
“You’ll get your fun,” she said. “Come with us if you want.”
He pointed his knife at me. “I’m not letting them out of my sight.”
Jerry walked over to two guards who stood by the halogen lights. I could hear parts of his conversation. Something about being ready for when HQ arrived, and no more fuck-ups from here.
“This is it then,” Jack said. “Got any last minute brainwaves?”
“Our only hope is Lea, but what chance does she have persuading Anthony out of this? We should have backed out when she started coming out with that nonsense at the boatyard.”
“It was worth a shot. She didn’t know—” he replied.
Jerry stomped over to Jack and kicked him in the chest. “Who gave you permission to talk?”
Jack rolled onto his side and coughed. Jerry returned to the other two goons.
Raised voices came from the back of the building. Maybe Lea making a final plea for our lives. I would even settle for a severe beating, although that was probably already part of Anthony’s plan.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Jack hauled himself up and looked at Jerry, who repeatedly glanced in our direction.
Jack leaned toward me. “There are a couple of lights in the sky. Have a look over my shoulder when you get a chance.”
A low buzzing noise drifted across the breeze. The GA guys all looked upward.
“Over there,” one shouted and pointed high to his left.
Two separate lights grew brighter in the dark sky, and the buzzing gradually increased to a recognizable sound of helicopters.
Jerry ran past us and called down the side of the building, “There are a couple of choppers approaching. It might be Headquarters.”
I detected both panic and excitement in his voice.
“It might be hostile. How do we know?” one of the goons asked.
Jerry turned back to him. “Coming directly to Hart Island? Don’t be stupid.”
He shouted in the general direction of the guards around the field and building. “Call everyone in, and look sharp.”
The goons gathered in the artificial light at front of the building.
Jerry ran back to the side of the building. “Anthony, Anthony…”
“I’ll be two minutes—just be patient,” he replied, out of our sight.
“What are you doing? We’ve got two choppers coming in,” Jerry said.
“Martina’s using the launch codes as leverage again.”
“Fuck her; we might get them from these guys coming in.”
“Keep your voice down. She’s not the problem. You know what the issue is…”
“Just shoot her. We’ll get them how I originally wanted,” Jerry said.
“You know we’ve just about managed to pull things back into shape. Don’t do anything rash. Wait until the time’s right. You need to muster the troops and greet the choppers. We need to look well organized if they’re to believe our story.”
“What about Harry and Jack?”
“We’ll deal with them when HQ has gone,” Anthony said far too eagerly. “Just roll out the red carpet, right?”
Jerry looked down at us. “We waited long enough, I suppose. A couple more hours won’t hurt.”
The moon cast Anthony’s shadow along the grass. “Just bide your time, listen to everything they say, and keep your answers vague.”
“Got it. I’ll get everyone organized at the front,” Jerry said and looked into the sky at the now clearly visible helicopters.
He organized the assembled goons on the field into three lines of ten, and stood in front of them like a second-rate drill sergeant.
One of the choppers thumped through the night sky, making a low-level pass of the island. It turned in a wide arc and hovered for a few moments over the field before slowly descending and bumping on the ground seventy yards away.
It looked like a large black Sea King. The blades slowly spun to a halt and relaxed.
A side door rumbled open. Ten armed men streamed out and lined up in the field, crouching with weapons aimed forward.
The local GA team exchanged whispers. All eyes were on the new arrivals, who held their position.
Two minutes later, another Sea King slowly dropped to the field. Four people sprang out, folded out some steps, and formed a guard. A silver-haired man in a cream suit, carrying a clipboard, descended the steps and looked around.
He walked toward Jerry. The armed guards edged forward, keeping a few yards behind him in an extended line across the field.