It Wasn't The Bullet (17) From his vantage point, Charlie could see the day begin to surrender to the night. Todd glanced at his watch and said that they must be nearly at the drop off point. He left the cabin and Charlie motioned for Samantha to stay put. There was a whirring of gears and the sound of chain moving very quickly over metal. They had apparently weighed anchor. Charlie tensed a bit and moved his arm so it was resting on the top of the cushion and placed his hand so his fingertips were a nano second from the pistol. The boat seemed to steady itself against the pull of the anchor, and all became relatively quiet, quiet enough for Charlie to pick up the muffled sound of a cupboard being opened and then closed. Todd came halfway down the ladder and stopped, resting his arms on the ledge that supported the hatch cover. His hands were therefore out of sight. “Well guys and girls, it’s time to pay the ferryman.” “Thank you so much Todd, it certainly was lucky that you came along and rescued us.” As she spoke she was reaching down into the bag with the money in it, “Perhaps when we’ve sorted everything out we can come back and visit. You could take us for sail around the West Indies.” Todd didn’t say anything in reply; he was looking intently at Charlie. He turned after a couple of seconds and said, “I’m sorry Cindy, but your luck stinks.” Before Samantha could respond he refocused his attention back to Charlie, “You know it’s really such a coincidence that I just happened to bump into my old business partner last week in Rotterdam. There are a lot of people looking for you, Charlie. I stand to make forty thousand pounds just for turning you over to them, twenty if you’re dead. So I win either …..” Todd did not finish his sentence because the cabin suddenly filled with a retina burning flashes of light and two deafening explosions. Two holes appeared either side of Todd’s head, shattering the wood panelling and scattering splinters throughout the cabin. Samantha screamed once out of shock and then was silent. “Ok Todd, we both know where the next one’s going. Put your arms way above your head and walk down the ladder, and I had better see the weapon in one of your hands.” “Jesus Christ Charlie, don’t shoot me, please.” Todd remained motionless on the ladder, frozen with fear. “If you don’t get down the fucking ladder now, I will shoot your fucking head off!” Todd stood up shakily and spent a moment balancing himself against the rungs with his calf muscles. He raised his arms and gingerly stepped down the last three rungs. In his hand was a small calibre Colt revolver. He stood at the bottom of the ladder his eyes shut tight. Charlie got up off the couch and placed the barrel of his gun on Todd’s cheek. Todd grimaced and swore under his breath as the hot metal burnt into his skin, Charlie prised Todd’s gun out of his hand and tossed it behind him onto the sofa where it bounced a thumped onto the deck. “Listen to me very carefully Todd. This is want I want you to do next. Kneel down on the floor, and keep your hands above your head. Todd whimpered convinced Charlie was going to execute him. When he had done what he had been asked, Charlie continued, “Now place your hands underneath your knees, palm up.” He lowered his arms and did, once again, what Charlie had told him to do. Charlie holstered his gun, and looked up at Samantha. She sat there staring straight ahead. “Hey Samantha, you ok?” She took a moment to register that she had been asked a question. Slowly she turned to him and gave him a broken smile. The peculiar smell of gun smoke still hung heavily in the room. The concussion of the bullets in such an enclosed space had made Charlie’s ears ring, he suspected it would be much the same with Samantha. He saw her fumble with her packet of Silk Cut and after dropping one; she finally managed to complete the process of lighting her cigarette. Charlie sensed that she was in shock at the suddenness of the assault. He turned his attention back to Todd. He was looking very uncomfortable, Charlie knew that the blood supply was gradually being cut off to his legs and hands; it was a lot easier than tying him up. “So Todd how do you feel now?” Todd continued to stare at a portion of the deck and did not answer. Charlie walked behind him and punched him hard in the neck. He yelped and started to fall forward, Charlie was ready for this and caught him by the hair and pulled him upright. “Now let’s have a little understanding here. When I ask you a question you will answer me. If I don’t hear a reply, I will crack you in the back of the head until I get bored or my fist starts to hurt and then I’ll probably just shoot you. So you have a choice, let’s start this all over again. How do you feel now, Todd?” “I feel stupid.” “Well that’s to be expected. Who are these friends of yours that are so interested in me?” Todd groaned and said nothing, Charlie punched him hard in the temple, and, once again before he could fall to the floor, Charlie grabbed him by the hair and pulled him upright. “Tell him what he wants to know Todd. He won’t kill you if you tell him.” Samantha’s voice had an edge of hysteria in it and Charlie saw that she wasn’t shouting at Todd but him. “I do some work for the Cause, smuggling dope and sometimes guns.” Todd tried to shift his weight off his hands but Charlie roughly pushed down on his shoulders. He groaned, “I was negotiating a deal and over some pints they told me about you and how they desperately needed to talk to you.” The words began to tumble out like he couldn’t stop himself, “O’Connor said that someone had put a contract out on you, alive or dead. They would pay more if you were alive. If that fucking bitch hadn’t followed me everywhere …” His sentence was stopped abruptly because Charlie swung his fist full force into Todd’s face and his nose broke spattering blood over the wooden deck. “Don’t be rude Todd.” Charlie still had a handful of Todd’s hair and used it to force Todd’s head upward, “Carry on, and don’t get distracted” Todd coughed and spat out the blood that had pooled inside his mouth. “Charlie please, stop it!” He looked over at Samantha and shook his head slowly from side to side. He spoke again, “Todd I want to know. I don’t particularly want to kill you or even hurt you but you have to tell me what this O’Connor bastard told you. Tell me and I’ll let you sit on the sofa.” Todd spat again, by now the blood had soaked into his t-shirt and Charlie wondered if Samantha’s training as a nurse was telling her that Todd’s injuries appeared a lot worse than they were. He let go of Todd’s hair and asked him once again to recount what this man O’Connor had said. Todd looked up at Charlie and his eyes were full of hate. ‘Fuck’ thought Charlie, ‘He’s convinced himself that he’s going to die and doesn’t care anymore.’ “They said you’ll get worse than that Terry cunt once they hand you over. You’ve made some fucking bad enemies if the IRA are willing to work on someone else’s contract. I hope they spend longer with you than they did your fairy boyfriend!” The wires in Charlie’s brain that had been healing broke loose and sent a mound of sparks and smoke that filled his conscious thought. Fire broke out and consumed all the rational thought processes until all that was left was a red rage. Charlie felt his body let go of the reality around him, he became an island of fury, icy calm descended, he was a God, Nothing could stop him, he was omnipotent, the revenge. He became aware that Samantha was in the room, her face a veil of abject terror, Charlie was not cognisant of who the person was, only that she posed no threat. An ally. “Go and launch the dingy, take the bags, I’ll be with you in a moment.” His speech was chilled but even and almost matter of fact. Samantha got off the chair mechanically and picked up the bags, she gave the impression that an alien had commanded her to act. “If you can’t manage, shout and I’ll come and help you.” She disappeared up the ladder with no acknowledgment of Charlie’s offer of assistance. Charlie returned his attention to Todd. Placing his foot on Todd’s shoulder he roughly pushed him over. Todd’s legs and hands, now numb, offered him no protection, and his head crashed into one of the iron table legs. He lay there unable to move, perhaps stunned by the collision. Charlie rifled through the drawer by the sink and found a small ball of baling twine and a dull looking clasp knife. He cut three lengths of the twine, roughly bound Todds’ wrists and with the remaining pair made two slipknots in each piece. Bending down over Todd, he placed one loop around Todd’s ankles and the other around his neck; he then turned Todd on his side and attached the loose ends to the solid supports of the counter. Jerking both restraints to make sure there was little slack, Charlie was satisfied with his handy work. Todd had begun to whimper, Charlie leaned in close to Todd’s ear and tutted, “No room for self pity here Todd.” Charlie straightened up and looked around him, gathering up the things he needed he returned to the prone victim and knelt on one knee. He placed the ashtray just far enough away from Todd’s face that his eyes could focus on what it was. He pulled a cigarette from its package and after lighting it, took two deep drags so that the tip glowed to an angry red ember. He carefully placed the cigarette into the book of matches, intertwining the cardboard stalks so the sulphur ends rested on the word Marlboro. “You know what the worst thing about these cigarettes is?” Todd just stared vacantly into Charlie’s face. Charlie slapped his cheek with the back of his hand, “That was a question Todd.” Charlie’s voice never moved beyond a conversational tone. “No, no I don’t know Charlie.” “When you put them in an ashtray they don’t go out. They just burn right down to the filter and smoulder.” Charlie heard the mechanical murmurings of a winch and assumed that Samantha had figured out how to release the small inflatable dinghy. He pushed himself upright and looked down on the trussed man; he nodded and took a step over to the propane stove. He turned all the knobs to full; the hiss of escaping gas filled the cabin like white noise. “See ya Todd. Sweet dreams.” As he climbed the ladder he flicked off the light switch, leaving Todd in the dark with just the glow of the cigarette and the whisper of the gas for company. The last sound he heard from Todd was a desperate choking noise as he must have tried to move his head closer to the burning ember but was restrained by the slipknot closing around his throat. Charlie stood on the deck and gazed at the billions of twinkling stars that formed a canopy over his head. He smiled and said out loud, “Wow, what a magical sky.” He sighed contentedly and climbed over the stern of the boat and onto the short stainless steel ladder. Samantha was sitting in the boat; she came across as being tiny and fragile. Charlie vowed no harm would ever come to her; she was now precious to him. He causally stepped into the rubber boat and inspected the outboard engine. Swiftly working out how to start it, he pulled on the plastic toggle and the motor roared into life echoing across the calm sea. He asked Samantha to untie the mooring line nearest her and he undid the one at his end of the boat. She moved as if in a daze. When she had completed the task, he twisted the throttle and he guided the craft toward the silhouette of land in the near distance. They bumped and juddered they way toward France. The journey only took a few minutes. He rammed the dingy onto the wet sand and jumped into the water. The waves were small and he helped Samantha onto the damp sand. She turned her head upward to look into his eyes and in the bright starlight Charlie could see that she was scared and uncomprehending of what had just transpired. Her face was suddenly illuminated like daylight, a low whoosh of sound swept across the ocean and then a massive wall of sound and light engulfed them both. Instinctively they turned toward the source. Against the backdrop of deep blue and stars the explosion made clear the destruction of the aft end of Todd’s yacht. In milliseconds the sound had vanished leaving only the red reflection of the flames mirrored by the blackness of the sea. “Oh my god Charlie. What did you do?” Samantha was beginning to shake, sobs welled up inside her throat, Charlie pulled her towards him and she pushed herself away. Charlie was genuinely surprised, “Samantha, he was going to kill us. I was protecting you.” “Fuck off Charlie; you got revenge for your precious friend. I know he never had a chance of killing you or me, do you think I’m that stupid?” she struggled for breath, and although Charlie could not see her tears, it was obvious that her cheeks were wet; she panted “Do you think I don’t what you’re capable of? You didn’t have to kill …” Her sentence evaporated in the brightest light Charlie had ever seen, a shock wave of air made them both turn their backs to the ocean, as it subsided fragments of wood rained down on them from above. When they could finally raise their heads up to look in the direction of the boat, it had simply vaporised. There were no more flames, no shadowy outline, nothing but eerie silence and velvet blackness. Charlie grasped Samantha’s limp shoulders and turned her to face him. He gently laced his hands upon her cheeks and said, “Samantha, that boat must have been full of explosives. He was taking them to Ireland or some place where they would have blown up innocent people. We did a good thing.” “We didn’t do anything, Charlie. You tortured and murdered him; I just got caught up in the misguided romance of you being an outlaw. I can’t deal with you right now, oh my god what is happening to me?” Charlie went to touch her again and she just let herself go limp, he tenderly placed her on the beach. Wading into the water he caught the escaping dingy and pulled it back onto the shore. Quickly releasing the two easy locks, he picked up the engine and with an effort slung it onto his shoulder. Making his way as far as he could into the cold water without losing his balance, then he tossed in the machine and watched it sink. His shoulder once again gave a sudden reminder that not all was completely healed. He stumbled unsteadily back to where Samantha was sitting and said he would be back shortly. He picked out their bags and tossed them onto the pebbled beach. It took him a few moments to find the release valve for the air, and when it became just a lifeless piece of rubber he returned to the water and forced it underneath the waves. He sat down next to Samantha. The boiling turmoil in his mind was subsiding. He was coming back to the planet where reality lived. He was aware of the previous thirty minutes, but it all seemed detached and remote like he had seen a movie. Charlie did not try to deny anything to himself; it was the same when the business with Annie had been settled. He glanced over at Samantha; she was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chin and her arms wrapped tightly around her shins. She was staring straight ahead; it was difficult for Charlie to see if her eyes were open or closed, the night was becoming thick. He knew that they must get away from the beach, although from here it seemed deserted, he was certain that it was populated higher up on top of the steep cliffs and the sound of the explosion would have people coming here from all directions. “Come on Samantha, we have to go.” She allowed him to take her hand and guide her to her feet. He started to walk, hoping to find a cutting in the rock face that would take them to a road, which would in turn lead them to where Charlie wanted to be. “Slow down a bit please Charlie.” Samantha said quietly.
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