Michael Morley - Spider

Slowly, Jack remembers his father's retirement day and how his dad had mentioned that he felt guilty even though it had clearly been an accident. He had still wanted to say sorry publicly to wipe the slate clean.

'I'm sorry for your loss,' says Jack, with no hint of sincerity.

'Thank you,' says Spider, sarcastically. 'That means a lot to me, because I know you lost your own father in a similarly tragic accident. How long ago is it now? About five years, right?'

Jack's face shows the shock he just felt.

'Oh, how I'd love to be standing in front of you right now,' says Spider, leaning closer to the laptop. 'I really wish I could look you in the eyes and tell you exactly what it felt like to hear your old pa bump under my car's wheels, and hear his skull pop like a watermelon.'

Jack's head buzzes with static, his knees shake as the shock sinks in.

Spider holds the computer screen, determined to enjoy the power of the moment. He drums the fingers of his uninjured hand on the side of the screen. 'And Brenda, your mother, tell me, do you still think about her?'

Jack looks confused.

'Oh, come on, Mr Policeman. Did you really think she died in her sleep of a heart attack? P-leeeease.' Spider watches Jack clutch his head with both hands, overwhelmed by confusion and anguish. 'Afraid not. That was me again. You should never have left her alone in that big old house, now should you? Any caring son would have moved her inwith you and your lovely wife here.' Spider pauses, so the full impact of his words can be felt. 'No matter. You have other worries now. Because shortly, I am going to kill your wife. And then I'll tell you what fate awaits your son.'

Rage roars inside Jack, and the anger triggers a surge of adrenaline through his body. His mind clears a little. Stay professional – keep him talking. As soon as he stops talking, he's going to start killing. Ask him something – anything!

'Why?' Jack says. The nausea dies back, he feels back in control. 'I don't understand why you want to hurt my wife and child.'

Spider rubs a bead of sweat from his face. 'Let me tell you something. Your father took everything from me. He left me orphaned, and probably made me what I am today. He ruined my past, present and future. Now I'm going to do that to your family.' Spider glances down at Zack and sees the child's head still buried beneath the protection of his mother's arm. 'I've killed your parents, now I'm going to kill your wife, and then you are going to die, trying to save your son. A fitting end for you. And this little boy here, well, his future is going to be filled with all the anguish, all the pain and loss that I suffered. He's going to wake every morning without any parents, and he's going to wonder why such a thing should ever have happened to him.'

Jack's temper snaps. 'You fucking monster!' His head is as clear as a bell now. He steps towards a remote camera fixed in the tree above him. 'I promise you, I will track you down to the ends of the fucking earth and I will kill you.'

Spider snorts out a shallow laugh. 'You fool, don't you realize, your earth ends today. You're out of time.'

A noise down the street distracts Jack and a second later the first of the NYPD cruisers slides around the corner.

'Does your wife love you, Jack? All those women, they all loved me. They loved me so much that they gave their very lives for me. What man could ever ask for anything more than that? And now yours is going to die for you.'

The first car screeches to a stop and Jack raises a halting hand as Howie's big frame emerges from the passenger side.

Spider's eyes flick back to the laptop monitor. 'I see your friends are here already. That's good; it means we can start the party. We're done talking now, and we can finish all this.'

Howie walks up to Jack, staying quiet and looking worried.

Jack covers the mouthpiece of his phone. 'It's him. He has Nancy and Zack, and he's going to kill them. Back off!'

Howie walks back to the others. Jack knows he'll notify the command vehicle and that everything will be put on hold until the situation becomes clearer and hopefully less risky.

'Inside my house you'll find the little hooker you've been looking for. And because you've been surprisingly clever in finding your way here, I'm going to reward you. I'm going to let you kill her. I'm going to let you put your hands around her throat and squeeze the last breath out of her body.'

'You're crazy,' says Jack. 'This isn't going to happen.'

'No, no, I'm not crazy, not at all. A trifle cruel perhaps, but certainly not mad. And it is going to happen, because if you don't kill her, then I'll mutilate your son as well as kill your wife. Maybe I'll let him see his mother die first, but then I'll cut him up a little, certainly enough to give him a personal, visible reminder of our time together. Perhaps you can imagine which parts of him I'm thinking of taking away?'

Jack's heart bangs in his chest. He smashes a clenched fist against the wing of Howie's car.

Spider smiles as he watches on the computer link. 'Temper, temper, Jacky boy. Now let's get on with this. You only have five minutes to carry out the kill. Take any longer and I'll start using my knife and saw on your wife and child. You'll be able to see it all on the Internet a little later in the day. Technology is amazing, isn't it? What a shame I don't have time to tell you all the tale of the Spider and his Web.'

Jack stumbles around the car, pure rage and hate firing his determination.

'Oh, and a few last rules. Leave your phone on; you know I'm going to want to talk to you. To make it a little more interesting, I should tell you there are booby traps in the house. I can trigger them from here, or you can trigger them, accidentally, from there. And finally, remember, if you don't make it to the girl and kill her, I'll blow you both up and then I'll finish my business here. Is that clear?'

'Yes. Yes, it's clear,' says Jack, spitting out the words.

'Good,' says Spider. 'My mother always told me to take a ten count before doing anything really big. So, here we go. Ten!'

Jack frantically tries to work out the situation.

'Nine.'

Ludmila may already be dead.

'Eight.'

If she isn't, BRK is hardly likely to let us both leave the house alive.

'Seven.'

It's possible that she isn't even in there, and this is another one of his sick stunts.

'Six.'

She may be in there, and the house may not be rigged with explosives; he might just be bluffing.

'Five.'

The house may be rigged with explosives and he may blow the whole damn thing up as soon as I step inside.

'Four.'

Will he really maim Zack? Is there any chance at all I can save my son from the agony and injuries that he says he'll inflict?

'Three.'

Whatever happens, he says he's going to kill Nancy.

'Two.'

My family is my world, my life, my everything.

'One.'

Please God don't let me fail them.

'Zero.'

'Howie! Howie! Give me your fuckin' gun!' shouts Jack.

The FBI man doesn't question what's happening, he unholsters his automatic and throws it to him.

Jack jams the pistol in his belt, sprints around the corner of the cul-de-sac and reaches the front of the house.

A big double garage at the end of the short drive faces him.

It's undoubtedly locked.

That leaves a solid wooden front door and a bay window that may both be rigged to explode.

It has to be the window.

The curtains are drawn.

Drawn curtains can hide a nasty surprise.

Jack spins around and checks the garden.

Ornamental rocks around a flowerbed. They will do.

He picks the largest and shot-putts it through the lower pane of the window. He stands back.