Ken McClure - The Anvil

He did not see MacLean who fired from below the bench and hit him in the chest, throwing him backwards against the wall. MacLean struggled out, painfully nursing his wounded leg. Leavey now held the older man at gunpoint.

‘MacLean!’ he exclaimed. ‘You!’

‘It’s been a while,’ said MacLean.

‘Don’t you realise what you’ve done?’ snarled Von Jonek.

‘I think so,’ replied MacLean. ‘But you can fill us in on the details if you like.’

Von Jonek, prompted by Leavey holding a gun to his cheek, outlined a list of what he clearly saw as his considerable achievements. He only confirmed what MacLean had worked out for himself.

‘What happens to the children, Von Jonek?

‘The seeds of a new order have been sown. Ther’e nothing you can do.’

‘A new order?’

MacLean’s frown deepened as he listened to Von Jonek boast that the babies were placed as adopted children in the homes of ultra-right-wing families who were part of the Anvil project. Because of their genetic background and social advantages, it was believed that they would sail through their academic years to achieve positions of power and influence in every sphere of public life. Political indoctrination from an early age would ensure a commonality of purpose. The brightest and best of an entire generation would ensure the supremacy of right-wing values and lead to a politically stable right wing Europe, a suitable climate for Lehman Steiner to grow ever larger and ever more influential. Petty squabbles between European governments would become a thing of the past as the bonds formed on the Anvil proved stronger than any other considerations. Europe would become the dominant world power.

Leavey and MacLean were aghast at the sheer audacity of the venture and Von Jonek mistook their silence for admiration. He adopted a conciliatory tone. ‘You must see how much better Europe will be with strong, co-ordinated leadership?’ he asked. ‘There will be law and order, peace and prosperity for all.’

‘And if anyone should disagree with the government?’ asked MacLean.

‘Why should anyone wish to disagree?’

‘What if they did?’ insisted MacLean.

‘Naturally there must be discipline,’ said Von Jonek. ‘The law must be upheld.’

MacLean snorted his disgust. ‘You have the nerve to pontificate about the law when you’re responsible for the murder of so many innocent people? You make me sick!’’

Von Jonek moved uncomfortably in his chair. ‘You really don’t understand,’ he began. ‘In an undertaking of this size it is sometimes necessary to take seemingly harsh decisions. Some things are to be regretted of course, but…’

Leavey spoke for the first time. He said with deceptive calmness, ‘I found my friend next door.’

‘Your friend?’

‘His name was Willie MacFarlane,’ said Leavey. ‘He had neither the genetic background nor the social advantages to make him a force in your brave, new Europe… but he was my friend.’

Von Jonek caught the ice-cold nuance in Leavey’s voice and his eyes showed fear. ‘I don’t understand…’ he whispered. ‘What friend?’

‘The man your thugs caught in the Hacienda. They shot him, or maybe it was you personally?’ said Leavey.

Von Jonek was now trembling, his throat had gone dry and his voice sounded hoarse as saw Leavey check his gun. ‘No, it was a mistake, an unfortunate… ‘

Leavey raised the gun and said, ‘On behalf of all these people who were subject to your “seemingly harsh decisions” I’m going to blow your head off.’

‘No, no, you wouldn’t dare… ‘

Leavey fired and Von Jonek was dead. ‘Oh yes I would.’

MacLean rifled through every drawer and filing cabinet in Von Jonek’s office, taking whatever he thought might be relevant to the authorities then he and Leavey started back up the tunnel to the junction.

With Von Jonek dead and five men still penned up in the cavern, confusion reigned over the alarm. The only guards to know of the intruders were either dead or trapped in the cavern, leaving the others up on the surface to assume that the alarm had something to do with the missing man they had been searching for. MacLean and Leavey were aware of this advantage but they also knew that the insistent ringing of a telephone without answer in Von Jonek’s office was going to merit imminent investigation. They heard running footsteps ahead of them and ducked into the shadows to wait for the runners to pass.

When the guards had clattered past Leavey whispered that he would keep them penned up in that section of the tunnel until MacLean had alerted Carla and asked her to get the rest of the girls together. MacLean had barely made it to the mouth of the tunnel when he heard firing behind him and knew that Leavey had hit trouble. He rounded the last bend and heard a cry of, ‘No!’ up ahead of him. It was Carla shouting at the girl who had been about to shoot him. All twelve girls were at the mouth of the tunnel. They had taken advantage of the confusion and absence of the guards to take matters into their own hands.

MacLean explained to Carla that he would hurry back to help Leavey. She should follow with the others but keep at a safe distance. By the time they got to the junction, the firing had stopped. MacLean approached cautiously, crawling along the floor of the tunnel on his stomach. He could see that there were two bodies lying across the junction. Both were guards.

‘Nick!’ whispered MacLean. There was no reply but a shot from the tunnel on the other side of the junction ricocheted off the rock above his head.

‘Nick! Are you OK?’

Again a shot was fired from the tunnel and splintered rock by the side of his face. This time there was a second shot. It came from his right and MacLean knew it must be Leavey. There was a groan from the tunnel and then silence.

‘Got him,’ said Leavey’s voice in the darkness. ‘I aimed for the muzzle flash when he fired at you.’

‘Thanks,’ said MacLean. ‘I think… ‘

‘Are the girls ready?’ asked Leavey.

MacLean heard the catch in his voice. He asked, ‘Are you all right Nick?’

‘I’m hit.’

The reply sent shivers down MacLean’s spine. He had come to think of Leavey as invincible. ‘How bad?’ he asked.

‘Losing a lot of blood…’

Again, MacLean heard the catch in the voice. Leavey was growing weaker. ‘I’m coming over.’

‘Be careful!’ urged Leavey. ‘I think there’s… still one left… ‘

MacLean crawled over to where Leavey lay and examined his wound as best he could. The bullet had entered through the upper right- hand side of Leavey’s chest and exited through his shoulder at the back. He did his best to stem the flow of blood, seeing this as the main threat to Leavey’s life. He reckoned that the bullet had missed his lung but it had shattered his scapula on the way out.

‘Senor!’ came Carla’s voice from behind them.

‘Be careful Carla!’ We’re over here,’ said MacLean.

Carla joined MacLean and Leavey without attracting fire from the tunnel and saw Leavey’s plight. She took over bandaging while MacLean rolled over on to his stomach and levelled his gun at the mouth of the tunnel, telling the other girls to pass the junction while he covered them. They filed past and waited for MacLean and the others to join them.

MacLean put away his gun and helped Leavey to his feet. He supported him on one side while Carla did her best to help on the other.

‘Leave me,’ said Leavey.

‘Don’t come that old movie shit with me,’ said MacLean.

Suddenly a figure appeared in front of them in the mouth of the tunnel. It was the guard Leavey had been worried about. He had been waiting for the right moment and was now holding a gun on them. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He was about to fire when one of the girls he’d been ignoring, shot him instead. Fernanda Murillo, holding the pistol she had taken from one of the guards the girls had overpowered, stood, holding the smoking pistol in two hands, her eyes wide in disbelief that she had done such a thing.