Hey Guys this is part 2 of the Cliche short story series. Once again its not part of my novel just a short story i'm running with for now. Hope you enjoy ^^
Cliché (c)
by Delvin Howell (July 2009)
Rufus Headley
Welp its coming up to that time; you know the time you’ve been preparing for ever since your first paycheck, the time you’ve been paying all those insurance premiums and bank mortgages and union funds for- yes I’m talking about Retirement. And for the most part I am not looking forward to it in the least! I mean seriously what was there to anticipate? More free time to rot away in boredom and loneliness? Maybe I’d spent the rest of my days reading a couple books I never got the chance to check out, or perhaps there’ll be some Law & Order reruns showing on T.V that I could catch up on…HA! Right! If it was the last thing I wanted to spend my days doing, it was watching Law & Order reruns! Thus it was with great misery that I peeled myself out of bed that Friday morning. The last day I’ll be employed as a member of the Barbados Royal Police Force.
The first bits of sunlight spilled into my bedroom through the lace drapes. These were the same ones I had up for the past five years, which explained the slight blanket of mildew dulling their yellow colors. I know you must think I’m a lazy brute, but the truth is I was hardly home to maintain the house in the first place. Walking from the divan to the bedroom door I could feel the dust collecting under my corned soles. Good thing I wasn’t married, otherwise the Misses would be on my tail for not running a mop over the floor once in a while.
“Aaaaaah Boy!” I gave the old bones a hearty stretch while I stared at the drowsy image in the mirror. The years had certainly taken their toll, with wrinkles etched into my face along with several scars I received during police duty. It was these that I was most proud of; behind each one was a brave skirmish, a close call or a careless mistake. Some say that you could learn a lot about a policeman from the badges he received or what they wrote in his case reports, but if you really want to know about his experiences just look at the scars on his/her body- they’ll tell you every tale you could possibly imagine.
I stood there admiring them for a good few minutes, their ridges still clear over the pasture of grey hairs over my cheeks. It would take an early morning announcement from the radio to snap me out of my reminiscing daze.
GOOD MORNING BARBADOS AND I HOPE YOU’RE HAVING A GOOD ONE. RISING EARLY TO GET THAT CUP OF TEA FOR THE HARD DAY AHEAD. HOW BOUT I EASE SOME OF THAT STRESS WITH THE SMOOTH LYRICS OF JIMMY CLIFF…
And with that I brushed my teeth over the rendition of ‘Wonderful World Beautiful People,’ a fun song but not very accurate. Sure I’ve met some nice folks, but in my line of work I come across folks that are not so nice…Murderers, thieves, smugglers, rapists you name it I’ve dealt with it, and as you’d probably expect it stained me with a bad case of paranoia over the years.
During my shower I noted the mossy buildup in between the tiles, maybe I should clean those when I get that free time. “[Sigh…]” The prospect made my forehead cringe, so I dried myself off, finished get ready and went into the kitchen to fix a makeshift breakfast. An egg and cheese cutter with some tea to break the air out my stomach; I wasn’t much of a cook but I managed to keep myself from starving from time to time. This also explained why the kitchen looked virtually untouched aside from a few water spots, mildew and a cow-web here and there along the counter. (Yea I know- I got to work on that when I retire too…..).
After washing the plate and mug I rushed outside, lamenting on the fact that I’ll be spending thrice as much time home from now on. In my garage was the company car; a Suzuki Escudo painted with a discreet shade of green. This was fine for me, last thing I needed was for the whole island to know what I did for a living, though the government license plate and the occasional siren would be enough to tip them off. I jingled the car keys for a bit before striking up the ignition, it purred in a loyal yet mournful manner; almost like it was also sad that this was my final day on the job.
Since it was just after six, traffic on the road was light and steady with only the most dedicated workers joining me. By now the DJ had switched from his fifth Jimmy Cliff track to some Barrington Levy- not my favorite artist but he had a poignant voice and meaningful lyrics.
EVERYBODY MUSSA WORK, DON’T BE A JERK
EVERYBODY MUSSA WORK, WORK HARDER!
Indeed, it was an upbeat track that made me forget my troubles and enjoy my last day to the fullest. I even went as far as to activate the siren and crank the Escudo full throttle down the highway. Surely the other motorists thought they were in the middle of a high-speed chase, but I didn’t care- this was my ultimate moment and I was going to savor it. Needless to say I was swinging into the Police Headquarters parking lot thirty minutes later, and everyone assumed there was some sort of emergency.
“Yow wuh gine on Headley man? It is Federation again or wuh?” The front guard asked as he ordered me to halt. Broomes was his name, a lanky man with an incongruous pop-belly and thick spectacles.
“Heh! It ain nothing so.” I replied with a juvenile grin. “Just hey fooling around a bit before work.”
Broomes ogled me for a bit, certainly this wasn’t my normal businesslike behavior, so I could understand why he would say; “Saaafe…you sure you ain take a dip from last week shipment that get confiscate?”
“Haha I sure man- anyway I got de road block up so I passing through…”
“Oh yea!” And with that I proceeded to park my Escudo- luckily the lot wasn’t so packed as it was only minutes past seven and no-one was there to see my joyride.
Headquarters was a structure of connecting white blocks, uniform and marred much like the police force lying within. With lightened mood and whistling tune I ambled through the office door. Needless to say the reactions inside were the same as at the front gate; confused with a touch of melancholy. They probably expected me to come in all glum, or maybe there were the one or two folks who assumed I was happy resigning to the secure life of a citizen. Both were wrong though, I had no idea why but I was in a surprisingly good mood. I think it might’ve been the setting; those cream-colored walls all plastered with faces of the island’s most notorious criminals. Those clustered desks, cluttered with irksome piles of paper work, used coffee mugs and faulty computers. The large array of mahogany plaques displayed just below the mounted wall clock, all with the names of outstanding officers on and off in the field, and on one of those golden labels ‘Rufus Headley,’ (my name) was inscribed. And last but not least that great sense of urgency that infected just about every individual within the precinct; time was of the essence, injustice was on the loose and all of us had a duty to keep the country safe.
That’s probably what I’ll miss the most; that feeling….
For a moment my expression reverted to the gloomy one I woke up with this morning, but that quickly changed as I made my way towards the stairwell.
“Oh- hey Rufus!” Lily Brathwaite- Head Supervisor of Records and the lust of my life. Yes you heard me, ‘Lust,’ though by now it had probably evolved into something more. I’ve known her from the time I entered the Force (more than thirty years ago), and we’ve been skirting the boundaries of friendship every since. You might say I’ve wasted a lot of time not sorting out the nature of our relationship, and sadly I’d be inclined to agree.
“Mornin Lily.”
“You…holding up ok?” I examined the doleful expression in her auburn eyes; it was a vast contrast to the usual twinkle she gives me.
“Hehe why de sad face?” I giggled. “I cool girl how about you?... Yuh looking kinda strung out….”
She really did; in her plump arms was a heap of grey folders leading all the way up to her round chin. More unprocessed paperwork probably; though she immediately tried to hide her stress with a brave grin and said, “Nah this ain nothing more than the usual- you know how it is.”
“Yea,” I returned her smile and motioned my arms around her workload, “Here lemme help you with those-”
But she veered away, shook her adorable head and said, “Nuh-ungh I good- besides you late already as it is.”
“Huh? How you mean?” I couldn’t imagine what I had to be early for; after-all it was my last day on the job; all I was expected to do was cleanup my locker and say goodbye to my colleagues.
“Well I don’t know…all I heard was that all members of de Task Force are required to meet in de Briefing Room...that includes you right?”
“Musee…” Lily gave me another mischievous smirk; I could tell she could read the anticipation in my heart. “I guess I should just show my face to mek sure…”
“You do that...” And with one more wink she skipped off to her desk; she always knew how to tease me. I watched as the hem of Lily’s green trumpet skirt-suit swept around the corner; shaking my head in silent admiration before heading off to my meeting.
The Briefing Room was stashed away in a separate part of the precinct; it took me about ten minutes to stride down the narrow corridors, take three flights of stairs, cross the deserted lobby, before I came to the frosty glass door. It was surprisingly active for this time of day, with a frantic buzz seeping through the knob when I turned it. However as soon as the door was creaking open the noise came to an abrupt stop and every head in the room had turned in my direction.
…
To call it awkward would be a great understatement, especially since their discomfort, surprise and
confusion was staring me straight in the face. It was nearly three minutes before a familiar voice meekly broke the silence;
“Um….Captain Headley….sir?” I turned to see the boyish visage of one of my old subordinates. Adrian Browne was his name; a fairly capable officer with an athletic caramel body and dedicated eyes. He ogled uncertainly with the latter; “….Are you supposed to be here…?”
“Huh? Wha you really asking fuh trut?” The gruff outburst came from another subordinate; Mario Griffith. A direct contrast to Browne, as his slim, dark frame housed a reckless yet brave character. “Of course he supposed to here; de man ain leff yet!”
Imprudence aside the boy was extremely loyal. Ever since I saved his skull from a stray bullet during a midnight drug raid up St. Lucy, he’d been following me -promising to return the favor one day.“I gine always got you back Pops,” he said. Heh- these youngins sure are something else…
“Well uh…I heard that there was a briefing called this morning so I decide to check it out….” I decided to answer Browne’s question after closing the door and searching for a seat. Griffith eagerly motioned to the empty one next to him, but I chose one at the back of the room much to his disappointment. Last thing I wanted was more unnecessary spotlight before my retirement.
Still as I sat, a plethora of curious eyes kept glancing at me- what they were trying to find I did not know. Occasionally I would meet their gaze- you know just for kicks- but after ten minutes even that got old. That is until the officer directly in front me had turned around and asked;
“Is it true? Are you really him?”
“Amm…….”I examined his docile demeanor- he had to be a rookie because I didn’t recognize his bronze-skinned face.
“Are you THE Rufus Headley?” His emphasis on my name would be enough to make me blush- if I was the blushing type that is.
“Yeah man that’s the same one.” Griffith confirmed. “You should show a lil more respect rookie.”
The rest of the room laughed but the youngster continued, “Wow! You hardcore B! I did hearing bout you all through the academy!”
His brown eyes twinkling, my throat dry, “Well ye…”
“I mean it’s really an honor sir…” His grip was surprisingly strong for such a youngster, and as he shook my hands I could tell that there was some latent strength just waiting to be honed. “I’m Gibbons; Lemar Gibbons- just became a Sergeant.”
He beamed at me with a blossoming pride; surely this was a great stepping stone in his career (indeed I remember when I first became Sergeant- but that’s another story). “That’s good man- could only keep rising from here.”
“T-Thanks a lot sir!” Gibbons was like puppy on the verge of licking my face when I gave the compliment. “I would really like to follow in your footsteps.”
Ah…that was something I wouldn’t advise. I mean sure I have little disappointments in my life but I still wouldn’t wish it on anyone else- especially a kid with so much ahead of him. A home, a wife, maybe some children- you know actually looking forward to settling down (unlike this old coot). Besides Gibbons didn’t really look like he was cut out for it. I mean sure he was physically capable with a strapping six foot physique that was lanky but with a bit more muscle than Griffith. However his face; especially around those hopeful brown eyes, didn’t show a man who was capable of handling violence-let alone taking another’s life. I yearned to tell him to quit- find something else to do, yet as he continued to ogle me I could only say; “Well…that’s nice son….”
BLAM!
The sound of the door slamming caused an almost whiplash reaction to everyone in the room. Two men marched inside; the first a short, stout man with a face that permanently looked like he bite lime, and the second a lean Caucasian guy with glasses and an air of authority.
“Alright men cut the chatter down and let’s get down to-“The stout one stopped to focus his attention on me; a foul curl formed on his fish lips. “Waiiiiiiiiiiit….Rufus what are you doing here?”
“Well he is the Captain sir!” Griffith intervened again before I had a chance to reply.
“Ex-Captain you mean? You’re supposed to be cleaning out your locker Rufus.” Unlike with Gibbons, this guy’s emphasis on my name made my blood boil. But contrary to popular belief I’m not the violent type, not when the situation didn’t warrant it. And fortunately for him; this wasn’t one of those situations.
“Sorry…I just heard about some briefing but if you want me leave…”
“No, no we need all the hands we can get for this one.” This time the bespectacled man spoke; I could sense the urgency behind his emerald eyes.
“B-But!”
“Not ‘buts’ Captain Mahon- this operation is more important than petty agendas.” With the reprimand Mahon’s bloated face sank like a deflated balloon. Yes he was my replacement; the successor to my once coveted position. I had no hard feelings towards him really, but for some reason the guy just had this sudden dislike to me. Being my junior for nearly a decade must’ve been a hassle for him, and there were many times when we were at odds with each other. But I never thought the animosity was this intense; well that was until now. Mahon grunted in frustration;
“Fine….well then let’s get down to business shall we?” He eyed me again before going to the large whiteboard behind him. In his ham-shank arms he carried several rolled up pieces of paper, spreading them against the smooth surface they revealed three items on their faces; a map, some blueprints of a building, and the picture of a man.
Immediately the room went into a hush, where every person’s concentration focused on the board and the two gentlemen. This was perhaps one of things I’ll miss the most; the tense atmosphere that came with a briefing. Who would be our target now? An escaped prisoner seeking refuge amongst a rural village like Hall in ‘04? Maybe another drug trafficker trying to bring in some product via one of the few unguarded coastlines? I tried to guess while looking at the portrait, but he didn’t seem very nefarious from his mug-shot. He was in his early twenties at least, with a boyish face not unlike Gibbons, a curly afro and big brownish eyes. Also his shoulder-blades indicated that he had a skinny physique and his skin had a dark chocolate complexion.
“Jack Daniels.” Apparently that was the target’s name- I couldn’t help but snicker. “No it’s not an alias our records confirm that this is his real name.” Mahon scoured the room for some order; and he was granted it. “This target is a very dangerous terrorist who has sought asylum on our shores; my associate here is an agent from the Central Intelligence Agency of America; Mark Johnson.”
At this announcement a murmur began permeating around the room, “[A CIA operative- wuh de hell one of them doing down here?]” I thought to myself, as the bespectacled white man took a step forward and took a bow.
“Jack Daniels is considered incredibly dangerous and should be approached with extreme caution- uh…yes?” Browne had his hand up this time.
“Excuse me sir, but if this guy is considered so dangerous why did the US only send you? Don’t they usually send their own task force to deal with these matters?” There was another bubble of chatter surrounding the statement; but rude as it may be there was some point behind it. Most overseas authorities; especially those from big boys like America, are accustomed to bringing in their own people to handle certain cases which are of top priority. It’s a trust issue I think; somewhere in between not wanting to share information with our government and not believing our guys good enough to carry out the job. (I remember getting ticked off when it was the latter but luckily today was different.)
Johnson took off his glasses and began wiping them with a handkerchief, “Yes .... However we simply don’t have the time to ship an entire unit down here at the moment.” That had to be a lie; I watch TV, I see how fast those guys whip-out small armies just to deal with prank calls- something on this level should’ve been manageable for them. “The reason I am alone on the island is because I was here on other business before we were alerted to this new development, and rather than call for backup we decided to rely on local forces to sort things out.”
Despite the courtesy he took to explain himself (which never happens by the way), the CIA agent didn’t convince me nor the minority of people in that room. However when he glanced up from his spectacles and showed the gravity within those green eyes, we instantly knew that he was serious- more serious than anything we Bajans have ever encountered. “Make no mistake; Jack Daniels is our top priority; the longer he roams free the more vulnerable both our countries are becoming by the second.”
I examined the Caucasian for a moment; his conviction was the sort of thing you’d see in a President let alone a CIA agent. Could this ‘Jack Daniels’ be as dangerous as he said? Part of me hoped not, but then an even bigger part wanted him to be dangerous- call me selfish but thwarting a hostile terrorist would make the perfect retirement gift.
“Ahem right; now that we’ve established the target it’s time we familiarize ourselves with the extraction plan.” Mahon pointed a stubby finger to the blueprints plastered across the whiteboard. They were a combination of detailed schematics and black and white images – like bird’s eyes views of someplace.
“Our satellites have verified that Daniels is hidden within this rural district in…Christ Church is it?”
Johnson turned to his right for confirmation and Mahon nodded. “Right… we will divide into four teams and move in on these four sectors which are outlined here-“He pointed to four yellow circles highlighting various parts of the neighborhood. One in particular spoke out to me; the one on the lower right corner which extended to a track near to the coast- if I was a fugitive that would be the most sensible spot since it guaranteed an easy escape route via the beach. Making a mental note of it I continued to listen to the briefing, “We have reason to believe that Daniels is armed, so in the event that he’s in your sights secure him, even with lethal force if you have to…”
Great….Nice going Agent Johnson- way to give the rookies a license to kill on their first sortie. I glanced over at Gibbons and caught him swallowing one huge gulp at the prospect. Poor kid. Johnson muttered something I was too distracted to hear and when he was content that everyone had the location memorized, he made way for Mahon to dismiss us.
“Okay- now that everything is clear ya’ll should prepare yourselves. We leave in an hour-“The captain paused to rest his beady little eyes on me. “- Anyone who isn’t ready by then will be kicked off the squad…”
And I thought the mood couldn’t be any tenser, Gibbons was shuffling in his seat now while Griffith and Browne exchange agitated looks. However the CIA agent (obviously having more experience in leadership roles) reassured the troop;
“Let’s all do well today gentlemen. Dismissed.”
Everyone rose wearing faces refreshed with relief. I mightn’t have much trust in the foreigner but one thing’s for sure he did seem dedicated to his work- and that in my eyes was okay with me.
A slow procession followed the two heads through the door; I lagged behind for a few minutes to take in the remaining images of the room. The off-white concrete walls which were in desperate need of retouching, the assortment of rot-iron chairs scattered idly in front of a stylish long table, the rusting air-conditioner that offered no semblance of cool once inside, the bulletin board plastered with maps, images and headlines- such things I never took notice of before, such things I’ll sorely miss when I’m gone.
Everyone had vanished into the lockers to prepare, leaving an old coot like me scrambling to meet the deadline. I really didn’t want to give Mahon an excuse to start on my case again, (next thing you know he end up in a hospital bed and I end up spending my retirement behind bars). Trekking down those three flights of stairs I caught sight of a somber-looking Lily waiting for me in the middle of the corridor. The way the ceiling lights caught her auburn eyes made my chest heavy; a sensation I didn’t feel for a while.
“Oh hey again Lily…” I greeted her; cautiously noting the concern in her demeanor.
“Hey… is it serious? The briefing sounded pretty topnotch; they even brought in the CIA….” This was really odd…Lily wasn’t the sort of woman to get worried; on the contrary she was the calm, methodical type where I was risk taker.
“Yea apparently there’s some terrorist hiding out in Christ Church and we gotta go and sort he out.” I noticed her expression get more anxious (so odd…but kinda cute nonetheless). “But doan worry it ain like de ones you see on TV.”
“Hmph!” She slapped me hard on the shoulder and then folded her hands with a juvenile pout. “Who’s worried about you old fogie!”
“Heh…. I ain dat old hear?” I giggled, while doing a little gyration in the waist (hey called me lewd but that used to get a smile on a woman face fast back in the day- and it didn’t fail this time either). “But all jokes aside, the raid ain that serious and besides this gimme a chance to say farewell to de job yuh know?”
She smiled. Lily knew better than anyone how much my career meant to me- not in an unhealthy way that you aren’t sociable or nothing, just the fact that I enjoyed what I did for a living. “Yea I know…”
“Welp I gotta hurry up... ‘fore Mahon bite off my head again.”
“Oh loss, he still on your case?” She didn’t really dislike anyone at work but Captain Mahon was one person who rubbed Lily the wrong way (matter of fact he rubbed everyone the wrong way…) “He letting that position get to he head!”
“Yea he is…anyway I going here and come back. See you later-“ I resumed my route down the corridors when I felt a soft grip come over my left hand. Her touch still smooth and tender over my rough, ashy skin…
“Be careful Rufus…” Most likely Lily read through my lie; the atmosphere, the early hour and the urgency all proved that this was no ordinary raid. Even if she said otherwise I could tell she was still afraid for my safety...but she shouldn’t worry her pretty little head on a crazy old man like me.
“…Aren’t I always?” I beamed and then walked away. (What were you expecting? A passionate kiss with an embrace? I’m not Casanova and I’m more willing to face a bullet than a rejection any day- call me a coward but that’s just me.)
The Locker Room was just as loud as the Briefing one with a burble of chatter radiating through the openings of the tiled walls. As expected there was a sudden hush as soon as I entered, but I ignored it and went straight to by locker at the back of the fourth row. It was so ironic; an hour ago I thought I’d be emptying it for completely different reasons. Yet when I rummaged through the metal cabinet for my gear I couldn’t feel any more at ease.
Speaking of my gear it was still in good shape. Consisting of the dark navy-blue uniform shirt and pants, polished black combat boots, a pair of military gloves, with a Type-III ballistics vest made out of tightly woven black fibers and several metallic plates hidden underneath (these were perfect for keeping anything from a .22 Long Rifle caliber to a 7.62x0.51mm NATO M80 round from puncturing your heart- but I never risked it, these things tend to fail from time to time). Also amongst the equipment were an IIIA Magnum Helmet, a pair of eye masks and a Beretta 92 F pistol just to keep as a secondary weapon.
Needless to say I was ready for action.
And since this was a serious case, riot shields were arranged on the wall adjacent to the door, along with several standard issue M16A2 rifles. Some heavy duty stuff man, the former was enough to withstand heavy fire from the latter though… like I said I was never one to put these things to chance. I wandered off to secure my arms especially taking time to examine my rifle. That’s probably the worst thing you could do; meet an enemy with a faulty weapon- I could tell you about a time in ’96 when my gun jammed during a warehouse firefight, but that’s another story.
The hour was almost up but I was already prepared, Mahon would just have to bark at somebody else.
“Easy ol’ veteran! Man suiting up again and ting!” Griffith came in all geared up and ready to go, considering how lanky he was the combat armor on his body fit him surprisingly well.
“Yes boy …Are the transports ready yet?”
“Yea I think so, Mahon out dey quarreling wid somebody or de other.” Griffith replied with a pitying shake of the head. Donned in a combat helmet with a ballistics face shield; he didn’t take any more chances since the stray bullet incident I saved him from. The headwear lopped to the side of his longish skull as he turned towards the door. “We should get going for real-“
“Yea-” Browne burst through the entrance before we could even move a step. His muscular body suited the bulky armaments as his movements seemed comfortable and unforced. “- Mahon calling for a departure now, so if you ain plan on getting left behind…”
“Alright I get you,” I fastened the shield and rifle firmly in my hands and joined the two across the courtyard towards the back parking lot.
“Wait though… Part Gibbons?” Browne caught himself midstride. I could understand his concern; it didn’t look good for a rookie to be lagging behind on his first sortie. I was on the verge of offering to look for the kid, when Gibbons came hustling from the Locker Room.
“Hold on I cominnng!” The rookie panted while he ran, his combat gear wobbling awkwardly with every bounce. Indeed it was a great contrast to the three of us, (even Griffith.) “S-Sorry about that…these things are heavy…” He complained and fidgeted at the straps of his vest.
“Well you gine gotta get used to it soon kid, ‘cause you gotta be running around with that in a couple minutes.” I saw him swallow a huge gulp from behind his face shield, which was starting to fog from his hot breaths. He really wasn’t cut out for this sort of this job…
“Aight here we are.” Browne pointed to the packed lot ahead of us.
It was smaller than the public lot up front; placed in the middle of the Locker Room where we just left, the Hall of Records and the Administration building. On the marked tarmac underneath the shade of a mahogany tree, a fleet of seven vans waited for us. They were the kind that usually aroused suspicion; you know without windows, driver’s seat tinted and black. I have no idea why the government invested in these considering how obvious they are to the criminals, but they served their purpose nevertheless. We chose the one nearest to the tree; inside was probably as expected with no rear seats and just enough space for four people to squat. It certainly didn’t help the back but it did strengthen my legs over the years.
“Ah boy…I really wish de men would get a chair or something…” Browne groaned as he took his place right behind the driver up front, Griffith squatted right opposite him while me and Gibbons were hunched over by the door.
“And I assume you gine donate from your paycheck?” I retorted much to Browne’s embarrassment.
“Aight then! You doan see Headley here complaining and he like twice we age.” Griffith iterated; I didn’t like that he kept pointing out my age but then again he was never one for sensitivity.
“But that not the point! He been using these fuh years so he’s used to it!”
“That is true, back in de day I used to be bumming donkey karts and ting….” Everyone looked at me like I was serious, shame; youngsters can’t take a joke these days. “I’m kidding guys.”
“Oh hahaha!” Griffith guffawed. “See? That’s why this man hardcore. Man don’t even get nervous before these sort of raids!”
“Nah I wouldn’t say so….I get plenty nervous like anyone else…” The statement silenced his laughter, while the three pairs of eyes looked at me with abject wonder. I always thought their admiration was somewhat misplaced, like I was some sort of superhero or action star. But the truth was I am more anxious than anyone, so much so that it spilled over from the job and invaded my private life (another reason for failed relationships). Don’t get me wrong I didn’t mind the paranoia. On the contrary it was the sort of thing I woke up each morning to feel, especially when going to these operations to release the thrill.
Yes…I know…I’m a messed up old coot.
Glancing over at Gibbons I noticed that he was the quietest one in the vehicle. The fog on his face guard was so much that I could barely recognize him. His rifle and blast shield were trembling in his hands too; the clicks and clacks radiated throughout the cold steel of the van. I decided to continue my statement for everyone’s sake; particularly the rookie’s. “Look… nerves are the best thing you could carry into battle; they’re worth more than a loaded gun or a bulletproof vest.”
“Huh…? Why’s that Headley?” Browne asked his black eyes narrowed with intrigue.
“-Because a man too stupid to be nervous is as good as dead when he’s in the middle of combat.” I watched as they mouthed soundless “Ah”s and continued. “It’s the ones with the most nerves that always survive…remember that.” I cocked the cartridge into my rifle for dramatic effect and my subordinates couldn’t help but be impressed.
I’m such a ham sometimes haha….
The trip to Christ Church took nearly another hour, as far as I could remember from the map the district was called St. Christophers. During that time that ride was mute; no-one uttered a single word. I don’t know whether they were studying what I said earlier but I hoped so; if anything they could consider it one last piece of advice before I leave. I kept on checking my M16A1, making sure that everything was copacetic before I arrived. Then the vehicle came to a stop;
“We’re here.” The driver announced.
Gibbons popped open the door, I know that resulting gust of fresh air had to be a godsend to him. As you’d expect a vehicle without windows could be fairly stifling, not to mention that we were wearing bulky combat gear too, which added even more heat to our bodies. “Fwah! Thought I was gonna suffocate in there…”
“Don’t get too comfortable rookie!” Griffith said, though he also took the time to wipe the sweat off his brow. “De real action gine start soon!”
“Stop scaring the man Griffith.” Browne followed from behind, while the van drove off to park with the other six vehicles. I just hoped it was somewhere inconspicuous so this Daniels fellow didn’t get the drop on us.
The morning sun was now prominent in the sky, with a strong baby blue eagerly replacing the orange and purple hues from before. Above us in the golden apple trees planted nearby were doves and black birds welcoming the day with incessant chirps. It couldn’t be any later than eight o’ clock and there was surprisingly no real form of activity going on in the setting (which is just as well considering what was about to go down). We rendezvoused with the rest of the squad; it was roughly thirty of us in all including the drivers, the CIA operative and of course big-guts Mahon.
“Alright men now that everyone has finally arrived,” He eyed my group with a hint of malice for a moment. “It’s time to secure the perimeter where the target is likely to be hiding-“
“Just like the satellite image showed, the target has been speculated to be hiding at points A, B, C and D.” Johnson directed his finger to various points around the environment.
St. Christopher’s was a sparse little community near the coastline of Christ Church. I figured the land here was expensive as they weren’t many houses about, and the ones that were had elaborate designs that only the wealthy would care to indulge in. From where we were standing a two-storey house stood proud in the distance; laced with terra-cotta tiles on the roof, a sculpted stone verandah and a fresh coat of maize-yellow paint- this was ‘point A.’ The other three points represented the rest of the buildings in the area. Point B was an abandoned warehouse used to store cut limestone from a nearby quarry, point C was a rundown shack located up north around some bushes, and point D was a humble beach cottage made out of wood and overlooking the adjacent shore.
“Now after much deliberation we think that Daniels is located in point C-“ Well of course you’d think that Mahon, it was the most obvious hiding spot out of the four. Secluded by lots of foliage, looked totally uninhabitable, not obvious to the average passerby- these facts made it seem like the perfect lair and the good Captain sought to list them off for the squad. But I just had to intervene; they were all going in the wrong direction. “-Yes…Rufus.”
“I’m sorry Captain Mahon but I gine have to disagree…” His eyes narrowed in frustration but I pressed on. “-Not with the facts per say; since they are the most logical traits of a good hideout… but they are also the most obvious ones.”
“Oh really…?
“Yes really.”
“And what would you suggest then Rufus?” I really hated the way he pronounced my name.
“ Well I would suggest point D, it’s the only place that has the easiest access to the coastline and it looks like a normal house of an ordinary citizen- perfect place to hide in plain sight-“ My mouth was getting carried away; guessed I really missed the leadership role. Griffith and the others seemed to support my point too, as they nodded in agreement much to Mahon’s disapproval.
“Ah but what will happen if the house does belong to an ordinary citizen? It would garner suspicion allowing the target time to slip away- is that what you want Ex-Captain Headley?”
“That is why we’re splitting into four teams Captain Mahon.” Johnson intervened; eager to end this futile argument. “We’ll be flanking the target simultaneously so as to minimize any lost chances.
“Fine, I want to head to point D then if that’s okay with you.” I opted.
“Me too!” Griffith was quick to join along with Browne, Gibbons and two other guys who saw some sense in my reasoning.
“Very well then the rest of us will handle points A, B, and C- we’ll maintain radio silence in case the enemy has some form of surveillance so until the target is spotted we are not to communicate.” The team grunted in affirmation and began to set out to their respective areas. I could sense the hole Mahon’s stare was digging into my back, but I kept my view forward to that wooden cottage by the shore.
“Do…Do you really think he’s in there? D-Daniels I mean…?” Gibbons strode next to me, the rattle in his words was nothing compared to the one in his body. That’s good he was afraid, I didn’t know how dangerous this Daniels was but if he is a target then that’s all they needed to fear. And no amount of backup and teammates could guarantee your safety once inside. Not wanting to lure him into a false sense of security I replied,
“Yea most likely…”
“Fuh real… what you said mek perfect sense Headley,” Griffith joined in, loyal as always. “If this man so tear, the smartest thing to do would be to hide in plain sight.” He cocked his rifle in a fashion very familiar to me.
“I…See….”
“Don’t worry rookie, it’ll be over in ten minutes…” I smirked at Gibbons for a split second before focusing on point D.
The cottage seemed like a cross between old school chattel house design and contemporary architecture, not as humble as I thought when I first arrived. The roof had pyramid shaped with a scarlet- painted galvanized top and black trimmings to match the wooden shingles on the walls. In fact the entire house seemed to have that same color scheme including the lattice fencing in the verandah and the rust-hued steps all around the house. It even had a little garden full of crotons, shrubs and stones encircling the building. Was this really the home of a terrorist?
“Aight men- what’s the entry plan?” Browne stalked up from behind followed by the two other officers who decided to join my squad. The cottage had only two entrances; the main one which was just beyond the latticed-gallery and the back entrance which led to a walkway towards the beach. There were also a plethora of windows throughout the structure; two of which were wide enough to fit a full-sized adult. So in all they were four entry points and we had more than sufficient numbers to cover them.
I directed Browne and Griffith to the front one, since they were my most trusted subordinates, the other two guys were divided among those two large windows since they appeared competent enough to handle a one-on-one encounter and finally; “Gibbons and me will take the back entrance.” This decision was fairly straightforward; not only will I cover the most likely route of escape but I’ll be able to supervise the squad member with the least experience.
“Okay lewwe get moving then.” Browne whispered and set out around the stone barrier around the garden.
“And remember avoid all windows, we engage in one-twenty seconds.” When everyone was scattered around the compound, I guided Gibbons towards the back- taking measures not to cause any unnecessary noise with each step. But there were plenty of obstacles along the way; stray plant pots, some potholes that nearly caught Gibbons off-balanced and of course the crunch that resulted when our boots met the gravelly ground. However within those two minutes we managed to reach the rear entrance. “Okay… you ok kid?”
Gibbons gave a short nod and yanked out a can of some Lachrymator (tear gas) from his holster. Inexperience aside, he still had a calm frame of mind when it all boiled down to it.
“Good…on the count of ten toss it inside. One…Two…” We were crouching just five meters away from the nearest window, and the draft wasn’t enough to carry the gas our way. It’s a good thing too; had a whiff of that stuff when we first started using it…not pleasant. Within ten seconds your eyes would start stinging, your nose running, your lungs as heavy as sandbags and your nerves burning with every cough. “Nine…Ten…”
Crack!!!
The sound of four cans crashing through the various panes of glass signaled the start of the operation. Within thirty seconds Daniels should be scrambling for a way out like a cockroach whose nest was invaded by pesticide. He had no choice; either he come for fresh air or face suffocation in that smog. Both Gibbons and I had our rifles pointed just in case that happened, mine steady and focused on the entrance, his trembling under quiet anticipation. Thirty seconds passed….then forty…..then fifty….
….
What the hell? It was over a minute but no-one came out. Was I wrong? Was Daniels hiding out in point C like Mahon said? Maybe he wasn’t as crafty as I expected…hell even so I should’ve heard some sort of announcement over the radio… “Come on we’re going in to check it out…”
“O-Okay…” Gibbons timidly agreed.
Assuming we were still under radio silence, I waited until inside the compound to seek out the other members of my squad. By then the majority of tear gas was drained, though my throat felt terribly dry and irritated. “Griffith…Browne….” I coughed while clearing the various sections of the house; it was roomier than the exterior suggested. Divided into five rooms including a bath, kitchen, living room and two bedrooms, it was furbished fairly well too; though it didn’t seem like the owner spent much time at home. Naturally the inside was the same colors as outside; red and black- an odd contrast for those who like flash and danger not really the sort of motives for terrorism. (But then again I’m not a shrink).
“Yea Headley…we here…” Griffith stumbled in with the rest of my squad, all of them sharing the same puzzled look I was.
“But it looks like the target isn’t.”
“Maybe you were wrong sir….” Browne didn’t want to believe it but the result was clear.
“I guess I was…but I’m gonna double check again.” Guess this old coot got carried away; maybe I should send them with the others to save face. That was what I thought until a broadcast came over the transceiver;
Target not spotted at point A, B or C… any luck at your end D team?
I shook my head in disappointment after returning from another sweep of the cottage. And with a deep sigh I said, “Tell him…the target’s not-“Just then a clatter came from the far corners of the building, it could’ve been the wind blowing down something or a mouse rummaging through the room. But there was still that possibility that Daniels could be lurking nearby- somehow eluding our clearing route. “Wait a minute!”
D Team please respond! ….There’s something wrong, Team C head over there quickly!
Ignoring Johnson’s announcements we stalked along the narrow hallway; fingers eager across the trigger in case any sudden movements were noticed. My aged heart was beating steadily with every step; “[I’m too old for this….]” I thought but at the same time I loved every minute of it. The corridor couldn’t be more than six meters but it felt like miles before reaching that walnut-stained door. I counted to three on my fingers for my teammates to see and then with a swift kick;
BRAM!!!
The entrance was busted off its hinges. The bedroom was basically untouched with the divan, dressers and curtains looking like a page from a department store catalogue. Except for the shards of a broken vase on the ground; that’s probably what caused the noise.
“Did you find the target?” Mahon called from beyond the hallways accompanied by five more men. For a moment I thought he was letdown when I replied “No,” but then the satisfied smile on his face proved otherwise. “That’s odd….weren’t you certain he was in here Rufus?”
“I was… “
“But he wasn’t at the other points either sir,” Browne added. “Maybe he got away…”
“That’s impossible... We’ve been monitoring the area for the past two hours, if he moved the satellite would’ve picked it up…” The captain checked over the room, probably convinced that we were incompetent enough to miss something. “…Unless Daniels is disguised as a bed or something hahaha….”
“Stupse!!” Griffith sucked his teeth while I kept my cool. Not that I was ashamed or anything, just that I was sure that the target was still loitering around…but where? The teargas should’ve suffocated him…
That was when I saw it; a lone mosquito fluttering around the bedroom, zooming around our heads in little zigzags with annoying skill. I would’ve swatted it if my mind wasn’t concentrated on every nook and cranny of the chamber. For nearly a minute it traversed every neck it could find, deftly maneuvering the frustrated swipes that went against it. Sigh….Some final sortie; instead of a hostile criminal I find nothing more than a friggin mosquito…
At least that’s what I thought.
“Where do you think you’re going….JaCk DaNiELs?!!!!!” The exclamation came from Gibbons who eyed the mosquito just as soon as it passed by his foggy face shield.
“Huh? Daniels?” Mahon uttered the question on everyone’s mind but before he could receive an answer the insect sprouted two legs, two arms and the frame of a black male adult. “What the-?”
WHAM!!!!!!
A bare foot was planted on the Captain’s porky face before turning into the paw of a lion.
“Holy Shit!!! Fire!!!” In a panic our triggers were squeezed and a barrage of bullets rained down on the creature. I say creature because I know of no men who can turn from a mosquito to a lion in less than ten seconds.
How the hell was that even possible? And how the hell did the rookie know that Daniels could do that in the first place? All of these questions ran through my mind as I emptied my rounds on the fleeing feline, we didn’t even have time to take aim and I’m sure we didn’t hit any part of that transfigured body. And to make matters worse a strong gust started to blow through the house.
But this wasn’t ordinary wind…No; this was sharper, denser and rougher than any Caribbean breeze I’ve felt before. (Well since that Hurricane a couple years back….) But where was it coming from? Outside was clear when we arrived not a cloud was in the sky, and there was nothing in the news this morning about severe weather.
“AHahAhAHaHa!!!!!”
The cackle was enough to make my ears bleed, and when I followed the sound to its source I realized that it came from Lemar Gibbons’ mouth. His expression twisted and unfettered; a total contrast to the shy, insecure subordinate from ten minutes ago.
“I’vE FiNaLlY FoUnD YoU DaNiElS DoN’t tHiNk YoU’rE gEtTiNg AwAy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” His shrieking voice mirrored the wind encircling the area and the gust was so intense that it hurled all of the items across the room. The bed, the cabinet, the mirrors, the ornaments, everything had now become a potential projectile.
However that was not nearly the worst of it. As Gibbons screamed his skin begin to peel at an incredible pace, like ash being scattered in the wind. In fact it wasn’t only his skin, but his flesh, his bones- hell his entire body dissolved into the air like dust and only his warped smile remained.
“Jesus Christ!!” Sorry but I had to say the Lord’s name in vain for this one.
When Gibbons… or whatever he was had changed the wind became even more severe, stinging my skin like cat-o-nine tails. It was as if we were in a blender being churned by invisible knives. The walls were crackling against the gales; the floors were starting to tear apart, when I glanced over at Griffith I saw that his face mask was being warped by the pressure- hell even my ballistics shield was beginning to splinter. But that didn’t stop me from using it nor did the gust stop me from keeping my finger on my rifle trigger.
SHA-BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Gah!!!” The explosion sent me flying towards the side of the cottage, replacing those invisible knives was an invisible truck which opted to ram into this old soul. My blast shield shattered along with the bones in my left arm, but aside from that my body was still intact. Pity I couldn’t say the same for the rest of my team… “Oh Lord….”
Lying in front of me were scattered limbs garnished by pools of my colleagues’ blood. Griffith, Browne, Mahon, all were beyond recognition- just mere lumps of flesh laying before my eyes. I wanted to scream. God knows I wanted to scream louder than I ever did in my life. But no sound came from my lips when I opened them. I didn’t know if it was because of fear or shock or both, but my mouth refused to utter anything and all I could do was carefully etch the scene of my teammates’ mangled corpses into my psyche.
Outside, gunshots and shouts were saturating the air like I was in the middle of a war. The rest of the Task Force must have encountered the two monsters, probably firing madly like we were seconds ago. But that was a waste of time, bullets, hell grenades won’t do anything against those things. “No….Run you idiots…..” That’s what they were better off doing, but my weak gasps could never cut through the noise on the shore. And pretty soon those shots and screams were punctuated by another bang or one of Gibbons’ maniacal cackles.
GAhAHahHaHAhA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I struggled to get back on my feet, but upon trying I quickly noticed that I couldn’t feel them anymore. They were still there; albeit twisted in such a way that they were no longer of use. The pain must’ve been too severe for my body to register and its good thing too- the wound didn’t seem very pleasant.
“S-Shit….”
So on and on I crawled, my right hand brushed something when I passed and I swore it was Mahon’s severed ears. I wanted to puke, but again my body would allow it so I just used any residual shoulder strength I had to move forward. A wave of sunlight washed in from outside, it was too wide to come from a window and I could only guess that the side of the house was blown off from the explosion. Turns out I was right.
“Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!”
“W-We need backup- AHHH!!!!”
The last words from the remnants of the swat team who were unlucky enough to come in between Daniels and Gibbons. A couple was caught up with the former’s ravenous swipes, while a few more fell to the stray squalls of the latter. And every time they met the result was the same; a pile of body parts adorned with spraying blood.
“This is crazy…..” I mumbled, flabbergasted at the monstrous scuffle within my sights.
By now the lion known as Daniels had sprouted large wings, grown a golden beak and had scaly talons on his feet instead of paws- I forgot what you called those things…Griffins I think? I saw them a while back in some textbook at school but I never thought I’d see one in real life. And as bizarre as it was; it was nothing compared to his opponent. Gibbons was some sort of translucent cloud that vaguely resembled the form of a man, it was really something you had to see for yourself because I didn’t have the frame of mind to describe it.
“HehEhEHeHe….StAnD StIlL DaNiEls!! ThIs WoNt HuRt A bit!!!!!” The cloud screeched but the griffin replied with a roar and a leap towards the edge of the shore. If I was to study my head for just a minute and ignore the unfeasible nature of the situation, I would say that Daniels was at a disadvantage. No matter what form he morphed into there was no way he could fight wind….could he?
WHOOSH!!!!!
An invisible wave swept away chunks of rock every time it failed to hit the griffin, the creature’s reflexes just outside the cloud’s murderous reach. I got a little braver and a little more curious, so I decided to writhe closer to the battle to get a better view. I don’t blame you for thinking I was crazy; hell half of me was cursing the decision too. But regardless of its ungodly nature, I just couldn’t pry these old eyes away from the conflict. By now my battered body had skipped out of the destroyed cottage, and unto the rough gravel below. The stones on my wounds were uncomfortable by not painful, so I continued to struggle onward until the house was at least twenty paces away. There were so many corpses ahead that I no longer took note of them; they were just part of this hellish environment, much like the cackling, the roars and the explosions.
“[Our Father…..who art in Heaven….Hallowed be thy name……]” I started to pray. What else was there to do in this situation? Backup was surely out of the question, my body was incapable of running away, and I was caught amidst a clash that would surely end my life if I stayed there any longer. So with these options laid out plainly I relied on the one thing I had at my disposal. My faith.
“[….And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us….]” Yes I regretted coming to St. Christopher’s today, I regretted not clearing out my locker and heading home like a good retiree just like Mahon suggested. But I was lead into temptation, that one last sortie for the road was just too good to pass up. And look where it got me? Crippled and watching the shoreline being shaved away by a ghastly cloud and a besieged Griffin. The latter of which was cut along its hind legs forcing it towards the ground and into the tempest’s clutches.
“YoU’rE MiNe!!!!!” The shriek was unmistakable as Gibbons took the form of a cyclone and churned the vulnerable Daniels within its voracious drafts. The beast whimpered and wriggled as its skin and feathers were carved at a rapid pace. Just by looking at the earth I could tell whatever Gibbons was doing had to be painful. I’d almost feel sorry for him…if there was any room left in my terrified core for pity.
Suddenly something strange happened; stranger than the events that happened after entering point D.
A bright light radiated from the scarred frame of Daniels until finally it burst into a bubble of flames.
BOOM!!!!!!!
Like a volcano, an eruption of fire and smoke hurtled me backwards, and cast both Daniels and Gibbons into the sky. The resulting glow was comparable to the sun that shone next to it….no it was greater than the sun…and hotter too. So hot that it made the pain in my body known and tangible as opposed to dull sensation I had before. I made a silent holler, after-all three of my limbs were shattered beyond repair and that ache had now become clear to me. But in spite of the extreme pain, I disregarded it in the face of that light in the heavens. And the only thought that came into my mind was the words; “[…But deliver us from evil…..]”
The beam lasted for at least ten heartbeats before it was swallowed up in the air. So brilliant was the glow that it seemed to suck away the blue from the sky and made the morning seem dark for an instant. It was enough to alleviate my fear and fill this old heart with pure awe. “[…and the power and the glory….]”
A triumphant screech came from amongst the resulting halo, but what was really shocking was the figure plummeting towards the ground. Out of those two monsters one was defeated, but who was it? Daniels or Gibbons? I watched eagerly as it landed with a thud, and after close inspection I realized it was the scorched form of the rookie.
…
I guessed it was over, Daniels had escaped via those few remaining embers but the real enemy was beaten. Relief washed over my ache-filled body, now it would only be a matter of time before someone was sent to pick me up. That is if I managed to stay alive till then. My eyelids were getting heavy and my vision was now blurred, rest was the only thing I craved at the moment (the same rest I tried so hard to avoid in the first place). Yet as I quietly accepted it, there was something that snapped my consciousness back on;
“Oh? There was still someone still alive?”
The question came from Gibbons…who was standing naked right before me!
“Ah it’s you Captain Headley- I should’ve known….” He had the same sort of admiration in his voice from when I first saw him in the briefing room. A total opposite to the stormy maniac just now…
“That really is commendable, though I can’t say the same for you Lemar…” Johnson sauntered over to the scene, completely unscathed physically or mentally from the encounter. He tipped his spectacles while tossing a blue cloak towards Gibbons to cover himself with.
“Stupse…” Gibbons sucked his teeth hard and scratched his long oily hair. “That Daniels is a crafty one…he knew full well of my oxygen-manipulating ability and what does he do? Turns into a phoenix and uses his fire to absorb it!” When he said it there was a twinkling in his eye, almost like he was impressed. “No wonder he managed to slip away for so long…”
“Stop praising him,” Johnson admonished. “You know the higher-ups aren’t going to be pleased about this failure.”
“Psh- screw the higher-ups! Like I give a shit about those bureaucrats!”
“….” This was the first time I saw the CIA agent show any agitation on his face, I could see the sharp ridges across his jaw-line and that brilliant green of his pupils deep with rage. Truthfully it reminded me of Mahon…but on a much more intimidating level. “Anyway…what should we do with him? There weren’t supposed to be any witnesses…”
That was a first; Captain Rufus Headley referred to as a mere witness. And one which they thought to dispose of too! Both pairs of eyes hovered over me, regarding my battered frame with appraising interest. It was easy to guess what they’ll say next; “Kill him, too much trouble to keep around,” or at least something along those lines. I wondered how I’d be executed, most likely I’d be blended by a tempest or maybe Johnson was a freak too with some ability he had yet to show. Whatever the method used the effect would still be the same. I would be taken away from this world, away from my job and away from my darling Lily.
“Hmm…. I guess we could leave him…”
“What?” The Caucasian took the words out of my mouth. “Why…?”
“Well he’s an old guy on his way to retirement, look at him; he’s crippled and if he told anyone what he saw today they’d think he was going senile.” Ouch…The rookie had a point and even though it bothered me I wouldn’t argue against it- not in this situation anyway.
“I simply can’t agree with this.”
“You don’t have to… but I know you’re not going to go against the order of your superior now would you? Gibbons beamed at an increasingly aggravated Johnson (I even noticed some veins popping above his white brow).
“You are only my superior on this mission Lemar Gibbons…”
“Ah true true… but superior all de same right?” The smile increased, the tension rose- was it really okay for me to stick around in this position?
“Whatever… let’s just leave before Daniels’ trail gets cold.” Without further adieu the CIA agent marched away from me and Gibbons followed suit, but not before turning and giving a shy smirk.
“It’s the ones with the most nerves that always survive…Heh.”It felt more like a warning than a farewell, one that said if I ever revealed the events of today I’d be like the rest of my comrades in an instant.
__________________________________________________________________
And so I lay; the lone survivor for what would soon be classified as the ‘St. Christophers’ massacre.’ An event so gruesome that it managed to madden the veteran star of the Barbados Police Force Swat Team, who failed to give any solid accounts as for why a team of thirty officers was wiped out in less than ten minutes. Jack Daniels’ name would also be regarded in infamy, after-all it would only be assumed that he was the cause of such devastation. He was now classed as one of the most dangerous criminals, not as renowned as Osama but certainly more notorious than Winston. But all of this was speculation, no-one would ever know the truth and I will never tell. Even if Lily lost faith in me, even if I spent the rest of my days in quiet seclusion, I wouldn’t say a word. I was too afraid, too paranoid. And even though I had so many regrets I still couldn’t deny what my last day of work had granted me.
“A sortie that I’d never forget? Heh! It really was the best retirement gift….”
