Chapter Nine

Harry

The flashing red lights and horning of the ambulance brought back an old memory in me I’d thought would be the last thing on my mind in a crisis like this. It was inappropriate, really, to be thinking of anything other than the hysterical woman in my arms at this present moment in time.

But then again, I was never known for my timing.

As Audrey Jefferson was carted away from me in the comforting arms of a tired looking paramedic, I considered following Ethan into their house, curiosity getting the better of me. We’d been through enough of these situations to be fazed by them anymore.

I decided against it though, my mind clouding over with a similar scene I’d witnessed – but from years ago, in London. Instead, I sat against the windowsill I had been peering into before we knew the source of the gunshot – who I now assumed to be Grant Jefferson.

Clenching my hands together, I allowed my eyes to travel around the scenes unfolding in front of me. The man wheeling the stretcher into the large, wooden front doors actually looked like the man who’d wheeled Ethan into the ambulance that day.

That day where I had genuinely and categorically believed that the most important person in my life was dead.

-       -

London, 2007

The sun was hidden behind the clouds again – big fucking shocker. I had warned Ethan about the dull, dreary weather. But no – he’d wanted to take the big case in London because it was a ‘cultural city’.

I’d grown up here and as I grew, I also grew a hatred of the place. The old buildings, bustling streets full of ignorant people constantly rushing everywhere... life in America was so much more chilled. Our agency was located in a tranquil, destitute place in the middle of nowhere – it was harder for enemies to find us if we weren’t technically on the map.

I’d come to learn it wasn’t cities I hated – it was just London. Probably all of England, in fact. I had stopped complaining about this to Ethan, though. He was starting to ask about my childhood again and damn could that man be persistent.

“Get your fucking feet off of the dashboard, Taylor!” a mean voice growled. I rolled my eyes and turned to look at the man in the driver’s seat of the low-budget white Transit van we were in.

I had been taken hostage, apparently. My arms and legs were even restrained by some cheap duct tape and everything – very professional.

We’d been following these guys for weeks now and they had somehow discovered our operation. Ethan was claiming it had something to do with me going out on the piss three nights ago and drunkenly declaring my name and occupation to anyone who would listen.

According to him, my chat-up line to any of the ladies was ‘I’m like James Bond but better... can I see your Golden Eye?’

He was a fucking liar though – I barely watch James Bond! Only when I needed some inspiration...

Anyway, somehow these Norwegian brothel-running, exploiting scumbags discovered who we really were – it didn’t take their boss long to discover our identities and everything about us. Ethan and I suspected there was a rat in our agency leaking this information – it was all very exciting.

“Johan, I’ve already told you – if I’m going to be riding shotgun, my feet are going on the dashboard... this tape isn’t doing anything for my circulation!” I scoffed.

I had tried smashing the blacked-out windows of the van but they were apparently ‘smash-proof’. I also suspected they were sound-proof by the way the little old lady ignored my manly screams for help at that pedestrian crossing.

Most city-walkers had ignored me, in fact.

Oh yes – Johan and I were driving directly through the city centre with me in the front seat to whatever torture chamber I was being escorted to. These Norwegians were not very smart, I suspected.

That was why I wasn’t worried. Not in the slightest. I had my game-plan figured out and everything! Normally in these situations I would just panic until the very last second when it would strike me and bam!

“How many times do I tell you – my name Yo-han. Not Joe-han.” He sounded truly bothered by my mispronunciation of his name. Johan must not get out very much.

I eyed the streets we were driving through. It was ironic that not one person was looking in through our windscreen – he could black out the windows but the windscreen was crystal clear. It was a pity not one fucking person was looking... I was ready to start screaming and looking panicked and everything!

Since Johan was the biggest idiot known to mankind and put his hostage in the front seat with him instead of the huge boot, I was in a pretty good place to escape. It just wasn’t happening for me today – I was shit outta luck!

I wondered where Ethan was looking for me. Probably on the other side of the city, the big twat. He was the one who was supposed to be covering me as we tried to escape the apartment we’d been staying in for the past few days.

The Norwegians had cornered us there and we didn’t realise it until it was too late – I had taken out three of them before we reached the large communal area on the ground floor of the complex that led out the front doors. We had suspected there were probably two or three hiding behind chairs, desks and corners. Taking them out would be easy, once we made a move and they reacted, giving us their hiding locations.

So me being the big ‘hero’ sauntered out, gun in hand, ready for gunshots and ready for Ethan to take out the bad-guys before they got me.

But no – instead, he shot down two out of the five of them, left the other three to force me to my knees with their guns aimed at my head, and allowed them to tie my hands and ankles together.

He even left Johan fucking buckle me into my seat when this van pulled up outside the doors! I couldn’t look to see where he was when all of this was happening, but I assumed he’d done a runner... he’d probably run out of ammo and panicked, trying to devise another plan. Well, too late now you big fucking idiot!

The other two henchmen were travelling in a car in front of us. They seemed to be singing along to a song on the radio, not a care in the world.

I suspected this was all of their first times doing a kidnapping – that, or they were seriously, seriously retarded.

“So, Johan, where are we off to then?” I chirped, subtly struggling with my confined wrists. I just needed to weaken the badly tied duct-tape, which was already loosening, if I just stretched it enough.

“You spies are so cocky – you think you outsmart us? You will die today, Mr Taylor. Believe me!” His heavy accent and the villainous laugh he did at the end was the undoing of me – I burst out laughing, unable to contain the ripples of hysteria going through me.

Johan looked utterly bemused, frowning – at least I thought he was frowning... I couldn’t tell with his uni-brow. He really was like a stereotypical henchman from a classic Bond film... Shit, I really do think about James Bond too much.

“Why you laugh?” he stammered, getting embarrassed.

I shook my head, trying to control myself. “No, nothing, nothing; keep driving Johan, don’t worry your pretty little head!” I choked out as I tried to keep the laughter in.

Yes, I was calm about my situation – but these guys were batshit stupid and hot-headed. I didn’t want to piss them off too much and get a hole in the head.

Johan shook his head gruffly and focused back on the road. I could tell we were getting nearer to the location as the busy streets of London were turning into the desolated alleyways of the London I knew best – the London where if you collapsed to the ground, someone would mug you before they checked if you were okay.

The strappings on my legs were becoming looser too and I stretched them to the point that, if I snapped open my legs, the tape would snap easily, too.

My hands were worrying me though... if we reached the location in the next thirty seconds, I wouldn’t have enough time to undo them. They were extraordinarily easy to escape from, though, to be fair. Seriously... how were these guys given this much responsibility?

Their parents definitely dropped them on their heads as babies.

Another minute later and we were still driving. I had just completely snapped the tape on my wrists that were behind my back and was just about to snap my legs open and launch myself at poor, unsuspecting Johan, when we stopped.

Fuck.

I had to do it now... my gun had been taken off of me, but I knew that Johan’s gun was in his front pocket.

Before he knew what was happening, I swung my arms from around my back and directed my elbow against the side of Johan’s skull, smashing his head off of the window that apparently couldn’t smash.

They got the shittiest van in the world but spent all of this money sound-proofing it, blacking out the windows and making the windows as hard as fucking steel? These were the stupidest criminals I’d ever come across.

Johan slumped in his seat. He wasn’t dead but judging by the crushing of bones I heard when his head connected with that window, I guessed he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

Grabbing his gun from the front pocket of his Nike jumper, I quickly opened my van door and left it open, using it as a shield. The two guys in front had just stopped right in front of us and had emerged from the car, walking towards the van.

Taking my opportunity, I sprinted around to the back of the van, ensuring there was ammo in the gun. All I could do was use the van as a shield until I got a good aim.

I heard one of the guys shout – they’d noticed I was gone. And now, the fun began. The sound of gun barrels clicking told me that I was in for a good old-fashioned shoot off.

If Ethan arrived right now, it would sort of be fantastic. Where the fuck was he?

We were in the courtyard of some large, abandoned warehouse. There were old brick buildings surrounding me and I knew there could be Norwegian’s anywhere. If I started running, shots would be fired instantly. I had to stay where I was.

The reflection of a window to my left showed me that one of the guys from the car was walking quietly towards the van, gun poised. I guessed that the other guy was on the other side.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly placed my hand with the gun around the side of the van, where one of them was walking towards me, with my finger ready on the trigger. Not looking to see where or who I was shooting, I just fired.

It connected with the man and I heard a drop to the ground. I was the weapons guy in mine and Ethan’s partnership. I never missed. Sure, you could say that shot was lucky... but it took skill to get as cocky as I was. And without my cockiness, I wouldn’t have had to balls to fire without looking. I was a fucking mastermind.

The second man, panicking as I knew he would, came running around the side of the van, enraged at what he’d just witnessed.

I didn’t give him a second to even do one last fart... bang – the bullet nestled right between his eyes. I wished Ethan had been there to see this. It was a lot easier to boast when he knew it had actually happened.

I stayed where I was, debating what to do next. I decided to get back into the van, kick Johan’s sorry ass out and start driving. I wanted to take the car but I didn’t know which guy took the keys and I had no time to fuck around.

Carefully looking and assessing the area before moving, I ran towards the driver’s side of the van. Opening the front door, I began unbuckling Johan when a loud and continuous string of gunshots began from one of the buildings.

I froze in my spot, speculating what to do. Were the gang members having a riot? Celebrating too much? I decided not to hang around to find out – I was getting the fuck out of here!

Before I could go to try and unbuckle Johan again, however, a gang of about four men started running from the building with the gunshots.

I knew they were Norwegian – I’d been spying on these guys for weeks. I knew who they all were.

Why were they running, though? Did they upset the leader and he was punishing them with mass murder? Why were the gunshots still going off?

My curiosity got the better of me – it had been known to happen. Ethan was going to fucking kill me for being so stupid, but I had to find out what was happening.

As the four men continued running up the dank roads, out of sight, I crept along one of the peeling walls of the building, abandoning my plan with van and growing closer to the firing.

When I reached a windowsill that held no glass, I took the risk of lifting my head to look in. I laughed out loud with glee when I did.

Inside was Ethan, a machine gun strapped around his shoulder, blowing all of these Norwegian’s up like they were nothing. He looked like a bad-ass motherfucker.

With him were three other agents I recognised from the agency. This was one of the first assignments where Ethan and I were taking charge – it was thrilling to see all of these agents here to help us on our mission.

It was all part of my ten year plan on becoming a Level-A agent – it would happen someday... Ethan and I were what made the agency what it was.

I stood up gingerly, not wanting to alarm the scary man with the machine gun, and waved. Ethan’s eyes popped open incredulously as he fired the final shots at the remaining Norwegian’s.

When they were all well and truly dead, that was when I hopped in over the empty windowsill towards Ethan and the three others. The other three were looking very happy with themselves and two even high-fived. That was the spirit! You just blew off these assholes’ heads. No more exploitation – yay!

“You were supposed to be ten miles away in that van,” Ethan barked, lowering his gun. He was the one person in the world who would be mad at a moment like this.

“I couldn’t miss the action, now could I?” I retorted, winking at the one female agent who was smiling shyly at me. I would be seeing her later, that’s for sure – I decided celebratory drinks would be required.

“How did you know it was us in here?” Ethan continued.

“I... I... I just knew!” I lied, fumbling for words. A thought struck me then. “Anyway, how did you know I’d get away from those guys? You left me you asshole! What the fuck was that about?” I punched his shoulder, trying to square up to him.

I was too giddy to be mad though.

“Dawson contacted me half an hour before the Norwegian’s arrived at the apartment complex. He told me to allow them to kidnap you – as he knew they would – and trail you to the site they brought you to, which would probably be their main headquarters... I’ve seriously never encountered more idiotic criminals...” he murmured to himself.

“I know right!?” I threw my hands up, thoroughly outraged they could even call themselves criminals.

“Anyway, these three agents were on-call so we drove an unmarked car behind you for the first ten minutes... The agency have a helicopter in the sky so once they saw the direction you were headed, they found this place fairly quickly. We sped on up here, positioned ourselves, waited for you to take care of your business first and then... well the rest is history.”

Ethan couldn’t help but smile a little towards the end. That smile brightened me right up – I loved that smile. I rarely saw it, but when I knew that he was truly satisfied with himself and with me, it was the best feeling.

We started walking out of the now destroyed doors of the building, back towards the Transit van and car. The two guys I’d shot were still in the exact same positions and I smiled smugly.

“That’s what you get when you mess with me... Right, Rachel, is it?” I sauntered over towards the female agent who giggled and said something to me in such a fast, high-pitched tone, I barely heard it.

I could feel Ethan’s eyes on us and I knew he was probably scowling like he always did whenever he felt I was being ‘inappropriate’.

I decided to stop talking to the girl, whose name was in fact Rebecca, and allowed Ethan to enjoy this moment without any distractions. I jogged ahead, wanting to show off the shot I fired right between the eyes of the second henchman to him. He would be impressed with that – my aim was probably the only thing I bettered him at.

As I ran forward, my eyes focused on the dead Norwegian, I heard a shout – Ethan’s shout.

I snapped my eyes towards a figure coming towards me, his head bleeding. Johan. The crafty little bastard. He was even pointing my own gun at me – where did he get that? That was on the point of rude – how dare he use my own gun against me! I would be having words with him.

I waited for one of the agents behind me to use one of their big scary guns to destroy him. But I started realising in the two-seconds since Ethan’s shout and Johan’s appearance that there simply wasn’t time.

He had the gun, poised and ready. They simply didn’t. I was going to be shot. Hopefully his shot would be as bad as everything else about him... That was the last thought I had before I heard the fateful pop!

I was thrown backwards onto the gritty dirt, a heavy, suffocating feeling on my chest. I heard another gunshot – the guys behind me had quickly sprung into action and probably retaliated with a shot to the head.

Bye-bye Johan.

I felt no pain. I didn’t understand what was happening. I snapped open my eyes, which I’d closed, and saw my vision hindered by someone lying across me. They were slumped and I felt something warm trickling down my exposed arm.

I knew it wasn’t my blood, though. I knew I hadn’t been shot.

Pushing the person off of me, I prayed and prayed it was one of the faceless agents behind me.

Not him. Not him.

But I knew before I turned him onto his back on the ground that nobody else would take a shot for me. Nobody else would give their life for me.

Still, the gasp that caught in my throat when I saw his paling face rendered my motionless for a few seconds. I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do.

I looked and saw that the blood was coming from everywhere on his left side. I pressed my hand against the wound, trying to keep his blood in. I saw the others running around, phones to their ears, shouting Ethan’s name at him, trying to wake him up.

I felt like I had taken a pair of glasses off for the first time in thirty years, but not only was my vision blurry, it affected my entire body. I just knew I had to keep the blood in. That would fix this.

It struck me that the reason he was bleeding so much could be because the bullet collided with his heart. Was it even still beating? I was too bleary to attempt to check for a pulse.

I don’t know how long I kneeled motionlessly beside him, all of my might pressing my two hands down against the blood flow.

This was the first time either of us had been shot. But it was fine – he would be fine. He went to the gym every day. That would help. Right?

The flashing red lights and horning of the ambulance seemed to snap me out of the daze I had been trapped in. When the paramedic came and tried to pry my hand from Ethan that was when clarity set in.

“No! No, please... he can’t die! He can’t die!” I pleaded, as one of the other agents dragged me away. “Ethan! Ethan!” I roared. But it was no use. His striking blue eyes were hidden as his eyes remained shut. What if they never opened again?

The stupid fucking bastard had jumped in front of me – why? Why the fuck would he do that? What if he died? Did he consider that? No – the selfish bastard never considered the possibility of him dying. He had to be the hero – he had to protect me.

Well no – fuck that. I was the one who protected him.

Please... please, God. If there was even a God – I would protect him from this day on... Please, just don’t let him die. I couldn’t live a day on this earth without him.

They had him on a stretcher, wires and tubes hooked into him the second he was in the ambulance. I didn’t even look back as I ran on behind the stretcher, taking a seat and attaching my hand to his instantly.

Once the doors closed and we sped towards the hospital, it felt like a tonne of bricks were being dropped on me. The paramedics were calling his name, but he wouldn’t wake up. Why wasn’t he waking up?

It was futile – he would probably die. He would probably die saving my sorry ass. I wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t worth half of him! Knowing the way my life had gone and the luck I’d had with people I considered close to me, he would probably die.

Dropping my head onto his limp hand that was tightly held in my own, I cried like I hadn’t cried in years. I didn’t even think I’d ever cried as hard. I thought my head would explode.

“Please... please... Oh God, please,” I whispered whenever I could catch my breath, before the sobs would override me again.

I could hear the paramedic saying something to me, trying to offer me words of comfort, probably. But I was too far-gone in my own hysteria that I couldn’t listen. For once, the hysteria wasn’t due to laughing. It was due to sheer and utter heartbreak and agony.

-       -

My flashback into the distant past was interrupted by someone’s hand on my shoulder. I snapped my head up and looked directly into the eyes of Ethan. The blueness of them was slightly shocking following the memory I had just pulled myself out of.

Remembering the moment I doubted I would ever see those eyes again was bringing a lump to my throat – I needed to get a grip. I was Harry Taylor – soppiness was definitely not in my vocabulary.

“Well?” I cleared my throat, standing up straight and crossing my arms.

He seemed to be slightly frazzled and I was sure that whatever he’d seen inside that house wasn’t pretty.

“Grant shot himself in the head... he’s dead...” Ethan looked puzzled and much like me couldn’t wrap his head around it. Grant was the last person I ever thought would kill themselves... then again, I suppose you never know.

“Fuck,” was all I could say. It was strange, knowing that someone you had been speaking to and laughing with an hour ago was now dead - especially by their own hands.

“Let’s get out of here... I don’t think it would look good if we were seen to be lurking around,” Ethan, always the sensible one, grabbed my upper arm and led me towards the gate.

We got back to the house and checked to see if the guests were still in the backyard. It had been probably half an hour since we’d left, considering the wait for the ambulance, and I didn’t expect anyone to still be there.

Lone behold, however, that fucking weasel was still sitting in the exact same spot, his slightly green-looking face staring into space.

“Hugh? Are you okay?” Ethan asked gently, walking to kneel down in front of him. Lawman was unresponsive and just shook his head faintly. He seemed to be in some state of shock.

Such a fucking drama queen – he wasn’t even there to witness the gory mess Ethan just had! If anyone had a right to act like this, it was Ethan. Fucking Lawman always had to be in the limelight.

Ethan looked back to me with worried eyes. “Maybe a drink would relax him?”

I shrugged and stayed where I was. There was no way I was getting Lawman a drink. I wasn’t his slave!

Ethan muttered something under his breath before getting up and squeezing Lawman’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a second, Hugh.”

He didn’t even register it, though. When Ethan retreated inside and it was just Lawman and I, I felt the need to fill the silence. I knew he was so dazed he probably didn’t even register my presence, but I felt the awkwardness and it was stifling me... Or maybe it was disdain at being so near him?

“So... wild night, right?” I chuckled lamely, kicking my foot against the ground. I couldn’t last this... I didn’t do small talk. Where the fuck was Ethan?

It was then that Lawman seemed to register my presence. His eyes raised and focused on mine, widened slightly.

“I won’t let this happen to you, I swear,” he mumbled in an almost panicked rush. The mixture of the drink he’d had this evening and the shock seemed to be messing with his mind, it seemed.

“What the fuck are you on about?” I replied, frowning. Before he could say another word, though, Ethan returned with a glass of whiskey.

“Drink this, Hugh. It’ll calm your nerves. It’s been a horrible night for all of us.” He added kindly. I’d never seen that side to Ethan – normally he just grunted at people whenever they spoke to him. Hell, I’d never seen him this carefree ever.

For once though, I didn’t blame Ethan’s change in behaviour on Lawman. It was this mission. It was different and it was changing us – I could feel it.

“Has he spoken at all?” Ethan muttered to me as Lawman sipped his drink, still staring into space.

“Yeah...” I replied quietly. I repeated what Lawman had said to me and frowned. “What the fuck was that about? The guy’s definitely been sniffing some of his own product, that’s for sure,” I smirked.

Ethan didn’t crack a smile, though. Instead, he looked even more troubled and worried.

Punching him playfully on the shoulder I laughed quietly. “Hey, don’t look so worried... the guy is clearly on something! I wouldn’t take much notice.” I was being the sensible, realistic one for once. Normally Ethan was talking me out of ridiculous, melodramatic notions.

Ethan smiled faintly and nodded, turning and retreating back into the kitchen. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

I wasn’t going to babysit Lawman anymore, so I walked back into the house. I stood at the sitting room window where I could still see flashing lights outside the Jefferson’s.

This mission was finally getting interesting and it took a man taking his own life to do it. What a sick, sick world. But yet what an unpredictable and, let’s face it, intriguing turn of events.

I decided to go to bed and wake up with a clear perspective in the morning. I was slightly drunk from the night’s activities and this had worn me out even more. Ethan could deal with his BFF Hugh.

Walking up the stairs, I heard noise coming from the bathroom at the top of the landing.

It was a voice – Ethan’s voice. Who could he possibly be on the phone to that I didn’t know? Lawman was still downstairs, drinking his troubles away. And anyone else surely Ethan would have told me?

I didn’t want to eavesdrop but... no that was a lie. I completely did want to eavesdrop.

Pressing my ear to the door, I held my breath for fear of missing out on anything.

“I’m telling you, Hugh said those exact words to him. Harry isn’t that drunk, he couldn’t have misheard him... Look, what the fuck is going on, George? I know you have a proto-call but if Harry is in danger, I want to know.”

My face paled. What was he talking about? How was I in danger?

“No – no, I know, George. I’m just asking you to bend the rules a bit! What does Hugh have to do with this? He’s obviously afraid for Harry’s welfare, too! It’s not making any fucking sense!” Ethan’s voice raised marginally but he lowered it, probably afraid I’d hear him.

Too late for that.

“Ugh – thanks for nothing, Sullivan. I’ll remember this.” Ethan’s voice held a threat to it and I glimpsed the real him emerging – the intolerance and impatience were both key characteristics to Ethan's normal character.

I didn’t know whether to run or to stay where I was when I heard Ethan’s footsteps near the door. Fuck it, I was staying put. I was a straight-up guy and I didn’t play any games. I wanted to know what was happening.

Ethan’s eyes widened and he looked guilty the second he saw me. Good – he deserved to look guilty. He had kept this monumental thing from me!

It was silent for a while, our eyes battling one another until finally, I cracked.

“Start fucking talking, Moore,” I snapped.

“Look – I only found out when George arrived. I swear!” Was this supposed to comfort me?

“Found out what? And you didn’t tell me? What the fuck!”

He hesitated before speaking but when my eyes darkened it wasn’t long loosening his tongue. “He said you were in danger... I was just trying to protect you – I knew it would freak you out and if George wasn’t panicking about it I knew it wasn’t an immediate threat... I would only tell you if necessary! You know what you’re like when you worry!” Ethan wasn’t even trying to act apologetic anymore... he was just speaking simply. That was pissing me off.

“I had every right to know! We tell each other everything, Ethan! When did that fucking stop?” I threw at him.

Ethan’s eyes clouded over and I knew the fight was over. He was beyond reasoning with. I knew about it now, and that was all that mattered, according to Ethan’s brain. I was sick of it though – I didn’t want him hiding things from me!

“Why are you so worried about Lawman? He’s just a druggie with a melodramatic mind,” I scoffed.

“If what George says is right, and you are in danger, things like this can’t be taken lightly! I think that Hugh knows something about why you’re in danger!” Ethan replied, his face reddening with frustration at the argument he knew I was about to throw at him.

Before I could speak though, there was a voice behind me.

“I don’t know about the danger,” there was a pause - Ethan and I were too shocked to move or react, “...I know the danger. And his name is Michael Taylor. You’ve probably heard of him, Harry?” Lawman’s slightly slurred voice said.

Every bone in my body chilled and my heart raced, pumping and pumping the blood around my body that I had been sure would run dry after hearing his name. How did Lawman know my real name? How did he know anything... how?

“Oh my God,” Ethan gasped, standing closer to me and placing his hand on my back, staring at Hugh in utter disbelief. “Your father, Harry...” he looked as bewildered and as sick to his stomach as me.

I don’t remember the last thing I saw when I blacked out, but I do remember feeling Ethan catch me. It was irrelevant protecting me now, though.

I was a dead man walking.

I’ve got a burst of motivation now that I’m well enough to write again so that’s why this chapter is here so soon after chapter eight!

Some of you had guessed Harry’s father, for which I commend you! However, there’s a lot more to the story that is yet to unfold....

Vote and comment if you enjoyed this and please pllllllease share your thoughts with me!

Have a great weekend :)

-O.