TWENTY-NINE
“I think the bastard's got Jeff,” Lewis said breathlessly appearing in the doorway. He and Peroni looked at each other for a full five seconds, then:
“Shutters!” Peroni said sharply, “Lewis, you get the ones in the kitchen and dining room, I'll secure in here.”
“Right,” Lewis' pale face flushed with purpose.
“You sure you triple bolted the front door?” She asked before he disappeared.
“Hell yeah,” he replied and then was gone.
Peroni moved swiftly over to the living rooms large window and with great effort pulled down the heavy steel shutters that had been installed throughout the ground floor for emergencies just like this. Once the latch clicked home she threw the bolt across the lock sealing it tight. She tugged at it to make sure it was secure then satisfied it was safe she pulled out her pistol from its shoulder holster and with cool efficiency chambered a round.
“Very bad, very quickly,” Nichols said and she nodded.
A moment later Lewis was back in the room breathing hard.
“Secure?” Peroni asked.
“As it can be,” Lewis replied grimly and seeing Peroni had drawn her pistol, did the same.
“Poor Jeff,” Nichols breathed as an empty felling came creeping over him. He saw Lewis wince at the mention of his young friend’s name.
“This doesn't make any sense,” Peroni said. “How in God's name did he find us so soon? And how could he have possibly known Jeff was with us?”
“Could have been watching the house?” Lewis offered. “He could have called Larry from right outside.”
“True,” Peroni had to agree, much preferring that rational explanation to any supernatural one.
By the look on Nichol's face he was more inclined to go with the supernatural. But then again, Peroni mused, didn't he always?
“I imagine you can ask him that yourself soon enough,” the priest said bleakly.
“Jesus! What's with all the guns?” Larry came into the room lugging his hastily packed suitcase, to see everyone waving guns around.
“Change of plan, Larry,” Lewis told him. “We thought we'd hang around for a while.”
“Shite,” Larry eyed the steel shutters. They made the place feel like a fucking tomb to him. “What's going on?” He said nodding towards the shutters.
“Randall is here,” Nichols said and Larry felt like someone had just kicked him in the stomach.
“What?” He just managed to choke out.
“And he's got Jeff,” Lewis added.
But Larry only had eyes for the priest. “Here? How?”
“I don't know,” Nichols replied with a shake of the head.
“You don't seem to fucking know much anymore, do ya?” Larry said. Nichols didn't reply to the accusation, what could he say? This idiot was worse than useless Larry thought, and was about to tell him so when Peroni stepped forwards.
“Enough of that,” she said firmly, then turned to Lewis. “Lewis, with me. Father, stay here with Larry.”
She moved to leave with Lewis but Larry caught her arm. “Where the hell are you going?”
“We have CCTV cameras outside,” she said snatching her arm away from Larry's grip. “I need to see what we are up against out there. And how Jeff's doing.”
With this she darted past him and out of the room. Lewis moved to follow but just couldn't stop himself; “Now don't go anywhere,” he told Larry and was gone.
McCulloch looked at Nichols for an explanation, but the priest had his eyes closed, his lips moving as he silently recited what might have been a prayer. This made Larry's blood boil. “Hardly a time for that now Padre, unless you can miracle us out of here.”
But the priest ignored or didn't hear him.
“Fuck!” Larry spat at the fool. Was it him or did the room seem to be getting smaller around him?
In the kitchen, Lewis and Peroni huddled around the flickering black and white monitor which was connected to the cameras outside. On it was a TV show neither of them wanted to see, but still couldn't take their eye off. It starred their friend Jeff, who cut a solitary figure standing by the gate at the front of the house. He looked like a lost soul standing there and seemed to sway slightly as he looked up at the camera positioned over the front door.
“Jeff,” Lewis whispered.
“He's alone,” Peroni said, and tapped the keyboard hooked up to the CCTV system and the picture flicked in quick succession from one camera to the next so she could see all around the safe house but there was no one else visible on any of them. She stopped when the picture came to rest back on Jeff.
“But I saw someone,” Lewis insisted.
“I believe you, but I can't see anyone now.” She tapped a code onto the keyboard again and the screen split into four boxes each with a view from a different camera, all empty but one. “See?”
“I could have sworn...”
Peroni shut off the other cameras so the whole screen showed Jeff again standing forlornly by the gate. She felt a pan of guilt, it always seemed to be poor Jeff that got left outside in the cold, or sent on some errand or other. He was the youngest of them so they had unconsciously made him the gopher. She drummed her finger tips on the table chewing her lip.
“Maybe we should let him in?” Lewis asked.
She turned and gave him a look and didn't need to say a word.
“Ok, ok,” Lewis relented. “But, it's Jeff Ania.”
“I know,” she said softly.
“What, what's that?” Lewis leant forwards and tapped the screen at a slight distortion of the picture next to Jeff who kept glancing at it and mouthing something.
“Fault with the camera?” Peroni offered.
As they watched the distortion it was clear now that Jeff was actually talking to it.
“Weird,” Lewis said as Jeff silently chatted on. “I wish this damn thing had sound.”
“We were lucky to even get this set up,” Peroni reminded him.” The system was twenty years old at best and that alone was testament to how their mission was regarded in the back rooms of Whitehall by way of the Vatican.
As Peroni watched Jeff, something about him just didn't seem right, but at this distance and with the antiquated camera she couldn't make out what it was. She was grateful when Jeff opened the gate and began to walk unsteadily down the garden path and towards the front door.
“What's wrong with him,” clearly Lewis had noticed it too. “What's that on his forehead?”
“Wait a sec'” Peroni deftly moved a small joystick which control the pan and tilt of the camera and moved it so the camera tracked Jeff as he walked. Now he was closer she could see what looked like a square piece of paper stuck to his forehead.
“What is that?” Lewis asked.
She shook her head, but that wasn't what was bothering her about Jeff. She squinted at the grainy image and as she did so it slowly dawned on her what was amiss.
“Oh,” she suddenly felt sick, that gnawing feeling something was wrong crystallized into horrifying realization. “Oh, Jeff.”
“Ania?”
She shook her head.
“Ania, what is it?”
It was freezing outside, and even thought the equipment was less than state of the art, the picture was all too clear enough.
“Jeff's not breathing.”
“What?” Lewis leaned closer still.
“There's no breath coming out of his mouth. If he's talking and breathing...” Her voice finally failed her.
“We'd be able to see his breath in the air.” Lewis said grimly finishing her sentence for her.
They both stared intently at the screen each of them willing a small cloud of breath to plume out of Jeff's mouth and into the early morning air, but nothing came.
The distortion that had been hovering by the gate came slowly down the path and stopped next to Jeff. Now that it was closer, Peroni could just about make out a shifting human form in its mist.
“It's him,” she said almost reverentially. I'm guessing the CCTV can't pick him up properly, but that's him alright.”
“The collector,” Lewis said grimly.
THIRTY
Larry cried out in shock as someone began hammering on the front door. “Jesus!”
A second later Peroni appeared in the doorway looking grim. “Jeff's dead,” she said numbly.
“Then who the fuck is that hammering on the fucking door?” Larry asked with growing panic.
“Jeff,” she replied. “And Randall's with him.”
Although he knew that was coming, fear punched Father Nichols in the stomach and he wasn't sure but the way Peroni looked at him he must have gasped out loud. He barely heard Larry as he spoke again over the roar of the blood in his ears, no loss though as it was probably just another profanity. Then he realized they were both looking at him now. Had he spoken, offered some practicality to help get them out of this? The answer was no of course because he had nothing to offer. After all, when a dead man comes knocking at your door. What can you say? Except perhaps a prayer.
In the hallway behind Peroni, Lewis appeared, pistol gripped tightly in both hands, he pointed it off towards the front door, his face was set like stone, his eyes had narrowed to predatory slits.
“Father?” Peroni was at Nichols' side before he realized it, and when he didn't answer she took him by the shoulders and shook him hard, he was surprised at her strength but one look into her eyes told him it was born of fear, she was terrified but trying desperately to fight it. And it was that struggle more than anything that dragged him out of his stupor.
“Upstairs,” he said. “We'll have to trust the door will hold, for now.”
She nodded, relief flooding her features. “Agreed,” she said, then shouted over her shoulder; “Lewis, we're moving upstairs, cover us then get yourself up there too.”
“Not much of a place for a fucking last stand,” Lewis said, eyes still locked on the door as the hammering continued.
“It'll have to do for now,” Nichols said moving forwards and taking Larry by the arm. “Come on Larry,” he added firmly.
As he passed Peroni in the door way she gave him a thin but genuine smile. “Good to have you back, Father.” He answered her with a nod and pulled Larry through the door. His adrenaline pumping at last he felt like a man with a purpose, things were clearer now, he was scared, yes and things looked bad for them all, but he swore to himself then and there that he would die before he would be so useless to Lewis and Peroni again, and yes even Larry.
He pulled Larry passed Lewis, who raised his pistol so as not to aim at them then returned it to the door after they passed, Nichols paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs and glanced at the door. Jeff was just a few feet from him but may have been a million miles away. “Sorry, Jeff,” he said under his breath, then half led, half dragged Larry with him upstairs. As Jeff hammered on.
“Everyone into Larry's room, it's the biggest and we can see the front door from the landing there,” Peroni instructed close behind Larry and Nichols now.
The three of them sprinted up the stairs taking them two at a time, then when they reached the top, Peroni ushered Nichols and Larry into his room then spun around on the landing to aim her pistol down the stairs and at the front door at the bottom.
“Lewis, up.” She shouted. Not needing a second invitation, Lewis bounded up the stairs and joined her on the landing, where they both stood side by side aiming. When nothing came bursting through the door, Peroni turned to Lewis. “Stay here,” she told him, “You can see the door just fine. And if anything comes through it...”
“Shoot first, yeah I got it.”
“Good man,” she patted him on the shoulder and moved to go through into Larry bedroom but stop for a moment. “Say, Lewis?”
“Huh?” He said without turning around.
“What's with all the swearing all of a sudden.?”
His grim face relaxed for a second and he shrugged. “Didn't realize I had been.”
“Fuck yeah,” she replied impishly and after just catching the utter shock on Lewis’ face, went through into Larry room where the old crook was in full rant mode.
“This is fucking insane! What the hell are we going to do now?”
“We remain calm,” Peroni told him as she holstered her pistol. “We need to think.”
“Calm? Bollocks! Someone has led that bastard here, someone has grassed.” He held his head in his hands, all thought of outward appearance gone. He was scared shit less and he didn't give a damn who saw it.
“Larry, please.” Father Nichols said and went over to the window, he pulled the curtain aside and looked down into the street below, half expecting to see hell itself outside, but it was just the same sleepy urban scene that had always been there, seemingly oblivious to the drama playing out right at it’s heart. He scanned the street from end to end, there was no sign of Jeff or Randall. They were probably both by the front door which was obscured by the side of the house from this vantage point.
Bang, bang, bang on the door. It seemed impossibly loud from up here, and it was fraying Larry's nerves one by one with each blow.
“Christ! Can't somebody do something about that fucking noise?” He pleaded.
“You can go down there and answer it if you like,” Lewis called through from the landing.
“Shut up!!” Larry screamed back. “You people are supposed to be protecting me! You're supposed to be keeping me safe!” His voice was edging towards the hysterical now.
“Larry!” Peroni snapped, Jeff was dead and McCulloch's bleating was cutting right through her, so much so she couldn't stop herself saying through gritted teeth; “It's you he wants. Maybe we should let him have you?” She instantly regretted the remark, but mostly it felt damn good to say it. She saw Nichols out of the corner of her eye, turning to her no doubt in shock, but didn't meet his gaze.
“Here, here,” Lewis added from his post out on the landing.
“Fucking try it,” Larry retorted.
“Enough,” Nichols said keeping his tone as soft as he could.
Bang, bang, bang! On the door downstairs, as loud as gun shots echoing throughout the house. That alone was enough to send them all insane given time, let alone the threat of violence it promised, Nichols thought, or drive Ania and Lewis to throw Larry out of the window. He looked at the Italian, no she wouldn't, there might come a time when all of them would wanted to, but she would be first in line to stop anyone. Lewis too wouldn't although he would never admit it, he was as committed as they all where to saving McCulloch, the ingrate that he was.
So where was the collector? Nichols knew he was out there, lurking somewhere in the darkness conducting this little nightmare. Also, he wasn't sure if it was his imagination but the priest thought he caught the faint feel and smell of static in the air.
Things could get very bad, very quickly. That phrase was rattling around in his head again.
Then the hammering stopped, leaving the room pin drop quite apart from their ragged breathing. They all exchanged a glance. What next?
A loud burst of static from Peroni's radio broke the silence and the Italian cried out in shock, she fumbled with the radio almost dropping it as if it had just tried to jump right out of her hand.
“Hello?” A weak voice said through the radio. “Hello... This is Jeff... Come in, over.” The voice was laboured, the each syllable slurred but it was Jeff.
“Oh, No,” Peroni closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Hello? The voice came again.
“Bastard,” Lewis cursed from the landing.
Not this, Peroni silently pleaded, anything but this.
“This is Jeff, over. Please come in... Lewis? Ania? Please come in, over.”
“Oh, Jeff,” Peroni fought back tears, she looked at her radio.
“Don't Ania,” Nichol's warned. She looked at him and he flinched at the pain in her eyes. So much pain everywhere. He shook his head and she nodded back.
“But it's Jeff,” Lewis called through. You can hear it's him. He sounds...” But could finish.
“That goes for you too, Lewis,” Nichols said, remembering he also had a radio.
“But what if that bastard has got a gun to Jeff's head?” Lewis asked desperately.
“Jeff's gone.” Nichols said it as plainly as he could but it wasn't easy dismissing someone's life like that, the words stung him with guilt. “That's not Jeff, or at least not the Jeff we knew.”
“Oh, fucking hell!” Larry exclaimed. “Have a word with yourself Father. You can hear it's him, plain as day.”
They all jumped as one as the hammering started again.
“Please...” Jeff's tinny voice pleaded through the radio. “Please guys, let me in... For pity's sake. Lewis? Lewis I know you're there, let me in mate, please!”
Lewis let out a sob and through the door Peroni saw him take a step towards the top of the stairs, his face a mask of indecision. “Lewis.” He turned to her with tears in his eyes and she shook her head.
“He was just a kid,” Lewis said but came away from the stairs never the less. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, then re-aimed back down, his hands remarkably steady.
“I'm so sorry,” Nichols said although he wasn't sure who to.
“Please!!” The radio speaker distorted making Nichols wince at the harshness of it as Jeff begged. “Please! Lewis, Ania... Anyone, Father Nichols?”
The priest drawn in a sharp intake of breath hearing his name spoken by a dead man.
“For pity sake, let me in! Please, anyone, just talk to me... Oh, guys I'm so scared. He said he's going to hurt me again. Do you hear?”
He was sobbing now, Peroni screwed her eyes tight shut. “Please. Stop,” she whispered.
“You don't know what he's done to me,” even through the small radio speaker the accusation was clear in his strained voice. “It's... It's horrible... He only wants McCulloch... He says we can all go free if we just give him McCulloch.”
The old crook instinctively glanced at the others in the room, looking for any sign they