Matt Hilton - Dead Men's Harvest

I looked again at the figure in the prow, and couldn’t believe my eyes. Standing there, hugging a hand to her chest, was my sister-in-law. Lassiter and Terry had done exactly as promised: they’d been there waiting for when Jenny got off the ship, and had plucked her safely from the water.

I’m not a praying man, but at that moment, I closed my eyes, leaned back and thanked God in heaven for all of my good friends, old and new.

Terry steered the inflatable alongside the lifeboat, and I pulled them close and tied the boats up to each other. I scrambled over the side, to be greeted by Jenny as she threw herself into my arms. We held each other for a long time, and it wasn’t just Jenny who cried.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ I said to her. ‘I wish I could have got here sooner.’

‘You came, that’s what’s important,’ Jenny said.

Something in her voice told me her words held a deeper meaning. ‘If he could have, John would’ve come too,’ I said.

She looked up at the freighter towering over us, as if expecting John to come scrambling down the ladder at any second.

I took her face in my hands and tilted it up. She had a cut under her eye, but it was the least of what she’d gone through. She had suffered enough for now — or for any lifetime — and I decided to spare her my conclusions about John’s fate. I just looked at her, and by the way her face folded in on itself she knew. I pulled her into my embrace, whispering in her ear, ‘John told me he still loved you and the kids, Jenny. Very much.’

She sobbed against my chest, and I allowed her to. I would have cried as well, but the tears wouldn’t come again, maybe because the truth had been troubling me for so long now. Perhaps Jenny was crying for her children, that they’d never again see their father, or maybe, for all that he’d put her through, she still loved John too. After a while she stood back, mopping her face, but it was awkward for her. I took Jenny’s hand in mine. I was very gentle, because she was in pain. ‘Cain did this?’

She’d swaddled the stump of her finger in a dressing supplied by one of the crew. Her bottom lip trembled, but her eyes were drier now. ‘He told me that he’d go after my children. For them, I’d have given both my arms.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘So would John given the chance.’

‘I know that, Joe.’

I kissed her on the forehead, gave her a hug. ‘C’mon. Let’s get you home to your kids.’

After her wounds were tended to and she’d undergone a thorough debriefing, Jennifer went home to Jack and Beatrice and I would have preferred to have gone with her. I owed my parents that much: they should hear from me that my younger brother was dead, not from some anonymous cop turning up at their home. Of course, I had to face the music in the US first, but I promised Jennifer that I’d follow in a few days’ time, supposing I wasn’t locked up for the next fifteen years.

The Navy and Coast Guard, ATF, FBI, CIA: they all wanted a piece of the action concerning the Queen Sofia and they were welcome to it. Grodek’s ship was towed to port at Hampton Roads and the official line offered to the media was that the suspected human traffickers on board had been involved in a power struggle that had erupted into violence. Jennifer’s name was never mentioned, but then again neither was mine or Hartlaub’s. Also left out of the story was the inclusion of a certain Tubal Cain. That didn’t surprise me, and I was happy to play ignorant. Jeffrey Baron disappeared too, literally.

It struck me that a mystery surrounded the nearby Roanoke Island, where once an entire community of settlers disappeared: it was an enduring legend, and now others had slipped from the face of the earth and no one would ever have a clue as to their passing. Another myth for the conspiracy theorists to fret over.

There was nobody left alive who would attest to my involvement in the deaths of either Sigmund Petoskey or Kurt Hendrickson and their passing would remain an equally contested mystery. The fact that both my and Harvey’s fingerprints were discovered at the motel where we’d holed up after the assault on Hendrickson remained, but without Baron’s evidence, all they had were charges of dangerous driving, theft of an automobile and criminal damage, and they were covered easily enough. The weapons we’d used had already been spirited away into the same empty place where everything else of consequence went. I have often railed against the fact that Walter has kept me on a loose leash, and manipulated me for his own ends, but, what was the alternative? I was lucky to have him covering my arse. Yes, I owed him, but he had some explaining to do before I’d ever trust him again.

When the naval helicopter touched down outside Walter’s fishing cabin, I had a small crowd waiting to greet me. Some of them I didn’t know; they were officials working with Walter to tie up all the loose ends, a job I didn’t envy them. Then there were the people that mattered to me. First to come forward was Rink, who bulled his way past the others and grabbed me in a bear hug. I was glad to find that his shoulder wound wasn’t troubling him as much now, judging by how tightly he squeezed me. When he put me down, his eyebrows worked like a couple of thunderheads.

‘He’s really dead this time. You’re sure, Hunter?’

‘I shot him in the head and watched him sink to the bottom of the ocean.’

‘Good, it’s what the frog-giggin’ sumbitch needed. What about that other asshole, Baron?’

‘I got him as well, Rink. I got them all.’

‘I’m glad, but I wanted Baron for myself.’ He knuckled me in the chest. ‘You shouldn’t have run off like that, goddamnit! You should’ve given me a couple hours to get my shit together and I’d’ve come with you.’

‘That’s exactly why I left when I did. You were in no shape, and if I’d told you I was going you’d have never stayed behind. I’m happy to see that Rene Moulder worked her magic on you.’ The veterinarian was standing in the crowd, but she hadn’t come forward. I winked my thanks at her and she smiled.

Rink leaned close to my ear. ‘It was me that was working my magic, brother.’

‘So rank’s no longer an issue?’

‘No, man. Now Rink’s the issue.’ He laughed, and I gave him a nudge with my elbow.

Harvey was there as well, but he just stood quietly, regarding me with calm eyes. He dipped his head in a slow nod of respect that I could only reciprocate. We’d been friends for some time, but lately our bond had grown even tighter; that’s what comes of fighting for your life alongside someone. Like Rink, he’d have preferred to have accompanied me on my final fight against Tubal Cain, but he also knew the reason why I’d chosen to leave him behind.

Standing at Walter’s shoulder were new hard-faced bodyguards, replacements for the men who’d died alongside Bryce Lang. One of them was the guard who’d been at the back door of Walter’s cabin that first day I arrived, the one who’d given me the knowing look. I wondered how much he’d known at the time, about how Walter, the man I saw as a surrogate father, had been lying to me. Walter had his unlit cigar clamped as usual between his teeth.

‘Let’s go inside, son.’

I followed him towards the cabin.

Behind me, Rink grunted a curse. He hadn’t been invited, but he wasn’t staying out of the loop. He followed close behind and damn the consequences.

Once we were inside Walter dismissed his bodyguards. This meeting was personal. I regarded Walter like I was seeing him for the first time.

‘I’ve done everything I can for you, son,’ Walter said. His voice was flat, and held little strength. ‘For now you’re off the hook for the killings. But I can’t promise that something won’t come back to bite you on the ass further down the line. You might still be brought to book at some point.’