CHAPTER FOUR

  Vance threw Claire bodily into the belfry. "Now then, my dear," he smiled with sickening charm. "Before I kill you, I'd like a few answers - why are you alive?"

  Claire regained her composure. "Why did you try to kill me? Were you hired? By whom? Is it the Bad Ian?"

  Vance's smile faded. "I'm asking the questions," he reminded her, drawing his gun. "Answer me - who are you? You're not Carol Braithwaite."

  "My name's Claire. I'm Carol's sister."

  Jack hit her brutally across the face. "Don't bullshit me. I've seen photos of Claire. She's not that much like Carol. I repeat, who are you?"

  "My name is Claire Braithwaite, you spineless son-of-a-bitch!" Claire spat defiantly.

  Jack looked above Claire at the huge church bells. "You know, I have explosives in this section of the roof, too. If I was to detonate, that bell would come down and crush the life out of you," he leered. "Tell me who you are."

  "I've told you," Claire shot back, "I had plastic surgery to look like my sister."

  "Why?"

  "Why do you think?" Claire yelled. "To bring you out into the open! And it worked, didn't it?"

  "You brought me out," Vance snarled, "but your little plan backfired - because now you're going to die, just like your sister. So I'd say your plan failed, wouldn't you?"

  "Not really, no," said Matthew. Jack whirled and Matthew punched him in the head.

  Vance reeled, drawing a detonator from his pocket. Matthew kicked it out of his hand and moved to throw another punch. This time Vance avoided the blow and retaliated with a kick to the kidneys. Matthew doubled up and Jack moved in with blow after blow, slaughtering the suddenly out-of-his-league Zerroffian. Matthew stumbled and came back up, gripping Vance around the neck and squeezing. The pair struggled desperately and flailed around the room like professional wrestlers (although a tad more convincingly) and Vance reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

  Claire grabbed the detonators. "Matt!" she shrieked, seeing Vance about to strike.

  "Use your powers! Get away!"

  Matthew concentrated and Jack found himself plunging a knife into thin air.

  Claire smiled. "Sorry, Jack," she said. "I think your luck's just run out," she pressed the detonator just as Jack realised where he was standing.

  The belfry roof blew off and the huge bell came crashing down, burying Jack under it, the angle of its descent severing his head completely his shoulders.

  As the smoke cleared, Claire laughed. "It's over," she sighed. "It's finally over." And then her laughter turned to tears.

  Thursday.

  The dust had settled and explanations and apologies had been received and carried out.

  Claire was leaving and Matthew was finding it hard to say goodbye as they stood outside the Base in front of Claire's taxi. The rest of the gang had already said their farewells.

  "Do you really have to go?" Matthew asked. "Couldn't you stay?"

  "You know I couldn't," Claire told him. "I suppose you'd want me to stay looking like Carol, too?" Matthew looked away, ashamed. "Don't feel bad," Claire gazed at him fondly. "I do like you, Matt, but you're not over Carol yet, and you're confused. If, in a few years, when I'm me again and you've got over Carol, if you wanna call me then, I'll be willing. But right now - right now it wouldn't be right, and I think we both know that. It's best I go. Carol's killer is dead. We'll never be able to prove or even know for sure whether the Bad Ian had anything to do with it. It's time we both got on with our lives," she kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye Matthew - and thank you," she climbed in the taxi and drove away.

  Matthew watched her go, his churning emotions not reflected on his stony face.

  Ian joined him. "You okay, Matt?"

  "Yeah," Matthew said tiredly, "yeah, I'm okay. It's just - having her here these past days, looking like Carol. I just wanted to put my arms around her and tell her I love her - but I couldn't because, deep down, I know she's dead. It was just...seeing that face again... God!" Matthew clamped his hand over his mouth, overcome.

  Ian was clearly affected by this uncharacteristic display of emotion and patted the teenager awkwardly on the back. "It's okay, Matt. It's done. Claire's gone - and if and when you see her again, she'll look like she used to. You'll never have to see Carol's face looking at you again."

  "Yeah I know," Matthew sighed, "and I think that's what hurts the most."

  Ian's Gang were gathered together in the lounge, watching the repeat of the Royal Wedding.

  "Isn't it romantic?" Sarah gushed.

  "About as romantic as having a thermometer shoved up your anus," Matthew snorted, clearly back on top form, but Ian now knew that that gruff, rude exterior did hide a sensitive, caring person, and that understanding made him feel closer to Matthew than ever before.

  Police Chief Steven Brick entered the lounge. "You don't mind if I disturb you, do you?"

  "Please do!" Matthew called. "Oh, please, please do!"

  "I've got some good news," Steven beamed.

  "You've got a terminal illness?" Matthew demanded, "and you've only got six weeks to live? Oh, that's wonderful - that is good news!"

  "Very funny," Steven retorted. "Ha bloody ha."

  "What is it, Steven?" Ian intervened before Steven asked Matthew to step outside.

  "The Prime Minister would like to meet with you," Steven told him.

  "Six months after we get here," Matthew snorted. "You'd think visiting alien ambassadors would command more of her attention than the bloody poll tax!"

  "Wrong Prime Minister, Matthew," Ian reproved.

  "Oh, they're all the same - corrupt, obnoxious, and frock-wearing! And that's just the men!" Matthew spat.

  "They wonder if next Friday will be good for you," Steven inquired.

  "That'll be fine," Ian smiled. "Well, it looks like we're finally making some progress - after all this is what we came here for, not to fight government agents, Satanist cults, alien ghosts, and hit-men!" he took a deep breath. "Perhaps Ian's Gang will be a success after all."

  "I wouldn't get your hopes up," Matthew advised.

  Sarah sighed. "Isn't it romantic..."

  THE IAN'S GANG LIBRARY

  Season 1

  The Bad Ian

  I, Spy

  Blood on Satan's Claw

  The Orius Project

  The next story in the Ian's Gang library is

  WITCH'S BREW

 
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