~ Island – pacific ~
Stan sat in mute silence, cuffed to a chair in the middle of an air-conditioned office. A large window offered a panoramic view of the bay and island. In front of him was a luxurious armchair, lavishly occupied by a very smug Ben. His feet were elevated and resting on a large oak desk, a classical British colonial one, with dark varnish. A plain blue industrial carpet smothered the floor, small potted palm trees stood sentry in every corner. It was bare and gave away nothing about its owner, which was exactly the idea.
Stan had also been marched onto the jetty and searched thoroughly. From here he could see two buildings in “L” shapes, which pointed in opposite directions. They both seemed to be storage rooms, sheltering who knew what.
Ben wasn’t going to take any more chances with Stanley Muddingfield, that was for sure. He was declared clean and then brought, cuffed, into the office which was Smith’s. The silence seemed to fill up all the empty space in the office, until Ben finally decided to break it before it suffocated the both of them.
‘Look, I know you’re angry about what’s happened, but let me explain.’ Before he could continue he was interrupted by a half crazed bark of laughter.
‘You have no idea how angry I am right now. I’m going to kill you for this. I don’t care what protocol says.’
Feigning hurt Ben spoke quietly.
‘The only thing you’re going to kill is yourself if you continue to be so rude. And that would be a real shame.’
‘What do you want from me,’ Stan’s composure was back. This, Stan saw with some satisfaction, seemed to momentarily throw Ben off.
‘First of all, Smith sends his apologies; he was not able to appear in person. He got caught up with an issue. Secondly I want to make a proposition, ah,’ he raised his hand to silence Stan before he could utter a word, ‘hear me out first. Smith and I both agree, after having witnessed your true potential that it really would be a waste to see you slave on this island for the rest of your life, so we’d like to offer you your freedom in return for your services. Smith plans on changing the world you know.’ His eyes took on a crazed gleam. ‘The governments consist of despicable individuals interested only in their own power and the ways in which they can maximise this. It’s come to a point where politics is not about the people as it might have been, but simply a game between those lucky enough to be players. A game for which the prize is power. The consequence of this is only felt by us, the general public. Smith has devised a way to create a new world order that will change all this and lead us back to square one. We can rebuild our world with a new and improved system of ruling, one that guarantees the comfort of the people and sees their concerns met with the appropriate attention they require.’
‘How do you propose to do that?’ asked Stan incredulously.
Looking slightly irritated at the interruption, Ben continued.
‘It’s quite simple really. I’m disappointed you haven’t figured it out by now. You certainly have had enough opportunity to do so.’
Stan just shrugged in response. He was worried about Adrianna and wanted to get out of the office which had become strangely claustrophobic to him; he was tired, fed up of being on the back foot the whole time. Ben watched this gleefully. He’d broken Stanley; Smith would be very happy.
‘Well quite simply put, the world will be reborn after the completion of our project. Naturally a task as tremendously huge as this will take time and a succession of phases. The first is the most genius. It affects humanity in the way it can cause most damage and have the biggest effect. Strangely enough this has nothing to do with killing people or bombing buildings. Instead we’re going to destroy the satellite network in space, severing any form of communication between the main nations of this globe as well as telecommunication. The result, panic, will strike the hearts of our leaders and they will be focusing all their energy on keeping an eye on each other, thanks to the wise advice of their closest, who work for... Smith. The second phase will strike immediately afterwards, in all 120 cities, where our Globex investment buildings are located. The power will fail, large bombs ripping the stations apart. It will take months to rebuild them. The cities will be plunged into darkness. The only lights will come from emergency generators which will eventually run out.’ Here he paused to let it sink in. ‘Imagine Stan, our planet will become a better place almost straight away, no poisonous gases and pollution. Phase three, is the clincher. The major political leaders of these countries coincidentally live in the 120 cities. Hundreds of highly trained assassins will execute a plan resulting in the deaths of these people and their successors.’ Stanley was puzzled at this. He sat up attentively and asked a question.
‘The planes..? You’re not crashing them into your apartment buildings? And why have the apartment buildings? What use are they for you?’ A crocodile smile curled around the edges of Ben’s mouth.
‘Ahh the planes, this part comes a while later, just when humanity thinks that their world is being righted again. Each of these planes will be piloted by two men, armed with a lot of firepower. A cargo hold loaded with potent bombs headed for the main players in the oil industry.’ A look of horror swept across Stan’s features.
‘You begin to understand Mr. Muddingfield?’ Ben laughed enjoying the feeling of power he was experiencing right now.
‘The oil fields and wells out in the ocean will be destroyed, leaving the human race stripped of their main resource. The apartment buildings, by the way, house small armies of all our trained supporters, who are in fact trained here on this very island; they will kill both the politicians and ruffle up the citizens. A battle for those remaining areas sprouting oil will ensue and soon, the humans will be back at the start ready to create a new world and way of running it. Rebirth will have occurred,’ he stated proudly his eyes shining brightly as he envisioned the new future. Stanley wanted so badly to tell Ben it would never work, that it was all going to fail, but he knew deep down that too much work had gone in to this and it was too well organised to backfire. The only person able to prevent it was sitting in this very office manacled to a chair with no way of contacting his superiors.
Snapping out of his brief daydream, Ben looked at Stan.
‘Any questions?’ he was all business again.
‘Yes, how did you prevent the people at ATIS searching for me?’
‘I told them you’d disappeared off the charts and I was busy trying to find you. It satisfied them. As far as they are concerned I’m still searching for you frantically.’ He chuckled, obviously pleased with himself. Stan resumed his silent act again, seething. Ben was studying his every move and Stan knew that he had to be very careful, not to give away any of his thoughts. He wouldn’t be able to take any more of Ben’s taunting.
‘The moment of truth Stan. Are you going to join us?’
Stan’s eyes flashed ice cold blue. He stared directly into Ben’s eyes and spoke slowly and carefully.
‘There is no way, I repeat, no way that I will ever be part of such a mad scheme let alone work alongside people as mentally disillusioned as Smith and yourself.’ He paused savouring the flash of anger that he glimpsed in Ben’s face.
‘No way.’ Stan reciprocated the smile. He waited for what would happen next, adrenaline beginning to pump through his body. Ben said nothing, reached forward and pressed a button. This was it. Stan used all his strength to stand up, his chair attached to him via the plastic cuffs tied around the back. He managed to get on to his feet and swung around with his back to Ben. It looked like he was trying to make a break for the door. Ben couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, instantly cut short as Stan backpedalled towards the desk and Ben.
‘What are you doing you crazy son of a bi-’ Stan made contact with the desk cutting Ben’s tirade short and knocking the desk a few metres closer to the large glass window and up-ending Ben. Stan immediately stumbled forwards for the second run at the lunatic when the doors burst open and he s
tared into the barrels of two MP-7’s cradled in the arms of huge bodyguards. Dusting himself off, Ben slowly came around the desk to stand in front of a crouched down, panting Stan. Barely disguised fury blazed in his eyes.
‘I hope you rot in that hole of a prison while working on the excavations for the extended complex. Take him away.’ It was a dismissal and Stan couldn’t be any gladder for it. All he wanted was to go to the prison and sleep. He hurt everywhere. A shame his little attack hadn’t quite worked but it was still good to see Ben get ruffled up. He was marshalled outside and frog marched roughly along a bitumen path towards a low slung oblong building. As they rounded the corner and came upon the covered entry way into the prison he saw something that stopped his heart. In front of them Adrianna was staring with utmost hatred upon the face of her long dead brother; Russell Silver, the reason him and Adrianna had split up in the first place and the cause for her years of depression as well as his. It wasn’t an illusion, he was definitely alive, if extremely pale like he’d avoided sunlight all his life because he’d been in hiding.
‘You sick and twisted…’ he couldn’t help his outburst; it was cut short as one of the guards stabbed him in the solar plexus with the butt of his gun.
Russell glanced over in his direction, disdain creasing his face. Then back at his sister, attempting to see a trace of forgiveness in her. She spit in his face and slapped him. Hard.
‘How could you. You’re no brother of mine. I don’t ever want to see or speak to you again. Do you understand that?’ she turned her back on him and calmly walked into the prison. As Stan was carried past him he glared at Russell.
‘You’re going to pay for what you’ve done. You’re no better than Smith. I promise you this; if I get the chance I’ll kill you.’
At that Russell smiled.
‘You can try, but trust me, there is no way that will ever happen. The killing I mean,’ he added as a side comment.
The door clanged shut ominously behind Stan and he was plunged into dim twilight. It seemed that everyone in his life in which he’d placed enormous amounts of trust and had cared for had decided to unite and turn on him in the biggest betrayal of his life. He was in one large room, with toilets and showers at the end separated by a brick wall. Otherwise everyone was left to find a spot in the prison themselves to sleep. It was a huge room but even so it was filled up with sixty people. Once his eyes had adjusted, he realised there was no escaping from this place. He scanned the room for Adrianna. He needed her and she needed him. That was two nasty shocks in one day. Betrayals of the worst kind in both cases and he hated to admit it to himself but he was nearing breaking point. Word had spread fast that he was a spy, his appearance didn’t help either; he was covered in scratches, bruises, dried blood and crusted scabs on his face.
Stan spotted Adrianna over in the corner opposite the toilets; she was helplessly watching a man and woman, in a tearful reunion. He made his way through the people who stepped aside easily, whispering about him. When he reached Adrianna the woman next to her looked up at him. Her face was hollow, huge shadows under her eyes and the pain of many years was reflected in them. Rose. She’d been beautiful once, Stan thought sadly. Her face, full of laughter when he’d last seen her, had been framed by long corn-blonde hair and her green eyes were soft and gentle. Rose. She’d married Smith when they were very young, the caretaker of the three musketeers; making sure they never took it too far. Seeing her like this in the prison shook Stan out of his own sorrows, replacing it with burning rage. He knelt down and took Rose’s face in both his hands.
‘He did this to you?’
A small nod as a tear traced a path down the grime layering her face. After Smith had become an enemy of the state, Rose had still remained in contact with Stan, had even helped him locate Russell’s sister. Then, fifteen years ago, she was the female victim of the bombing along with Smith, Russell and Russell’s wife.
‘This is Roger,’ Rose introduced the man standing with her, to Stan. ‘He’s been working against Smith his whole life with my help. Smith discovered this and imprisoned me two years ago.’
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ commented Stan.
‘Likewise,’ his handshake was firm.
At that precise moment the doors flew open again, harsh light flooding in.
Russell marched in. Not a trace of humour flickering across his face. He searched the room till his eyes met Roger’s.
‘You. Come with me.’
Roger made no move, so two guards barrelled their way through the crowd and packed an arm each. Together they dragged Roger out of the prison in total silence. Rose made straight for the window, accompanied by Stan. They could see the guards forcing Roger to walk towards the tower in the middle. Halfway there, he dodged out of the guard’s reach with inhuman speed and was about to make a break for it, when, with incredible fluidness, Russell plunged a heavy knife into Roger’s heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.
‘Nooooooooooooooooo,’ Rose’s scream was pure anguish, so loud it seemed to echo across the island. Her sobs wracking her body without mercy.
Adrianna and Stan spent hours trying to comfort her, huddled together in a prison in the middle of the southwest pacific with no hope of escape. Eventually Rose and Adrianna allowed exhaustion to overcome them and sleep took over. Not for Stan though, seeing Rose again brought back the memories of when everything had gone wrong. Horribly wrong. He was back all those years ago, with Russell and Rose in their hideout. After money had gotten better they lived in a house but kept their old dockside place as an area from which they planned attacks and held hostages. It was Rose that noticed first, as silent black cars pulled into the deserted car park and men wearing black combat gear piled out. She was scared stiff, could barely tell the others what she thought was happening.
‘Come out now, hands up high where we can see them or else we’ll shoot.’
Stan reacted lightning fast. He gripped Rose tightly.
‘Get out the back way, us two will hold them off OK? Try home, see if it’s safe. Wait for Smith there.’ She nodded fearfully and quick as a flash was gone. Stan glanced over at Russell.
‘We had a good run while it lasted. Let’s hope they go easy on us with this prison shit.’
‘We sure did.’ They both took deep breaths and moved out of the room, to be surrounded by a lot of armed men and were cuffed. An officer barked a question.
‘Where’s the other one then?’ They both shrugged. He looked like he wasn’t going to believe them but another policeman nodded confirming what they’d just said. They were marched outside and pushed into the undercover cars. Before Stan was shoved in a single voice could be made out loudly above all else.
‘Let them go. They’ve done nothing wrong. All we’re doing is your jobs properly and it’s working. Why punish us?’ the police agent holding Stan spoke rapidly into his mike and there was a surge of movement from the men around them.
‘Run Smith, don’t get caught. Get away now, there’s no point all three of us going to jail. We’ll get out somehow don’t worry.’ He never got the chance to hear a response as the officer angrily thrust him in the car and it pulled out speeding away. Soon after the others followed and Stan assumed Smith had seen sense and run for it. That was the end of their reign as the three Musketeers and their vigilante crime fighting.
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