Scott Mariani - The Doomsday Prophecy

Jones shut the door and moved to the middle of the room, rubbing his lips and jaw, his eyes full of hate. Ben didn’t recognise the other man. He was sitting on the desk, grinning with white teeth and almost jovial in his manner. Probably late thirties, slender, not tall, expensively dressed, flamboyant red hair. The watch on his wrist was chunky gold, its bezel studded with diamonds. He had the look of an intelligent man who didn’t have to be brutal to be in charge but was very used to giving orders. Someone always a step ahead, who had every angle sussed out well in advance. Someone very dangerous.

‘Nice place you’ve got here,’ Ben said.

The man grinned more widely. ‘Really, you think so?’ His voice was nasal, and he moved his hands a lot while talking. ‘I guess, being British and all. I personally think it’s a shithole. I can’t believe what it’s costing me. When I’m through here I’ll have my guy fly me the eighty miles back to civilisation.’

‘You talk a lot,’ Ben said.

‘So will you,’ the man answered. His smile dropped a notch.

‘I don’t think we’ve met.’

‘My name’s Slater. I think you already know Agent Jones here.’ Slater took a slim chocolate bar out of his pocket and started unwrapping it. ‘You like chocolate, Mr Hope?’

Ben shook his head. ‘And I don’t think you should let Jones have any. His dentist wouldn’t approve.’

Jones glared. Slater smiled. ‘All right, I appreciate humour but I’m not here for laughs. Don’t make this difficult. Believe me, it’s going to be a lot more pleasant if you don’t fuck around with us.’

‘You’re not going to get a lot out of me,’ Ben said.

‘Oh, I think we will,’ Slater replied. ‘Major.’

‘I’m not a major. I’m a theology student.’

‘Right.’ Slater chuckled. ‘Must be some other Benedict Hope that comes up all over the CIA computer, with the same face as you.’

‘It’s the truth,’ Ben said. ‘I’m just a theology student now.’

‘A regular man of God.’

‘I was trying to be,’ Ben said. ‘You guys got in the way.’

‘You were talking theology with Clayton Cleaver?’

‘You could say that.’

Slater suddenly got serious. ‘Why are you working with Zoë Bradbury?’

‘You people are way off the mark. I’m not working with her. I’m looking for her, but I barely know her. Up till eight days ago, I wouldn’t have known her in the street.’

‘So two SAS guys go all the way out to some Greek island looking for someone they barely know, just like that.’

Ben shrugged. There was no reason to lie. ‘Like I said, I’m a student. Her father is one of my tutors. After she disappeared, he asked me to go to Corfu to find her. I said no, and sent an old associate of mine who needed the work. He ran into difficulties, so I went along to help.’

‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it.’ Ben looked hard at Slater. ‘Then someone blew him up. I thought it was Clayton Cleaver. That’s why I went to talk to him. But I was wrong. Now I have a different theory. I think you killed Charlie, like you killed Nikos Karapiperis and all the other innocent people, because you need to know where Zoë put the rest of the ostraka she was blackmailing Cleaver with.’ Ben paused. ‘Now I’ve answered your questions, you answer mine. What do you need the ostraka for?

Why are you doing all this? The Agency get religion all of a sudden?’

‘That’s not your concern,’ Slater said.

‘If you needed what she had, maybe you should have thought about asking her before you killed her.’

Slater pursed his lips. ‘What makes you think we killed her?’

‘If she was alive, you wouldn’t need me to tell you.’

‘She’s alive,’ Slater replied. ‘Not only that, she’s right here. You’ll be meeting her sometime soon.’

Ben was thinking furiously. She was alive . There was a chance. Possibilities filled his mind. But he didn’t let Slater see what he was thinking. ‘You’ve had her two weeks, and you can’t make her talk? I thought you were tough guys.’

Jones pointed a finger. ‘You’re going to tell us, asshole.’

‘You should keep your mouth shut, Jones,’ Ben said. ‘It wasn’t the world’s greatest sight before I smashed your teeth in, but it’s a real eyesore now.’ He turned to Slater. ‘I think I get it. She doesn’t know, does she?’

Slater just watched him impassively, munching on his chocolate.

‘The scooter she hired on Corfu went missing the same time she did,’ Ben continued. ‘So I think she was on her way to meet Nikos Karapiperis when your guys tried to catch her. Experts like Jones here. I think they scared her, and she panicked and crashed, and that the reason she isn’t talking to you is because she doesn’t remember. She’s got amnesia from a bang on the head, and you’re scared she isn’t going to remember. Basically, you’re screwed.’

Slater crossed his arms. ‘You’re a very smart man, that’s for sure. Shame we couldn’t find a job for you on our team.’

‘Smarter than you,’ Ben said. ‘A cage load of monkeys could have done better. But that’s what happens when you hire a brainless piece of shit like Jones to do your dirty work.’

‘A man in your position should be trying to make me happy,’ Slater said. ‘You’re not making me happy.’

‘I haven’t even started yet,’ Ben replied. ‘You’re wasting your time on me. Even if I did know what you wanted to know, I wouldn’t tell you.’

‘Even smart guys can get into the shit, and you’re in a whole heap of it. We can bury you for ever. You shot two cops, for a start.’

‘That was Jones,’ Ben said. ‘He’s the real hard guy here.’

‘We have a whole bunch of witnesses who watched you murder two officers in cold blood,’ Slater said. ‘Then there’s the question of the two missing agents in Greece. I figure you for that as well.’

Ben didn’t reply.

Slater grinned. ‘Don’t remember? Did you get a knock on the head too? Let’s see if this refreshes your memory.’ He gestured to Jones, who aimed a remote at the flatscreen monitor on the table. It flashed into life and Ben recognised the scene right away. It was crisp colour footage of him and Charlie sitting at the café table on Corfu. The sound was muted.

Slater let it play for a few seconds, and Ben watched himself shifting around in his seat as Charlie unfolded the story to him. Then the kid with the ball came past, and moments later he saw himself jump up and run out into the road to save the child from the oncoming van. Charlie was up on his feet. It was the moment just before the explosion.

‘OK, you made your point,’ Ben said. He didn’t want to be reminded of that moment. He’d relived it enough times over the last few days.

Jones drew his scabbed lips back over his jagged teeth. He aimed the remote and his thumb stabbed the pause key just as the shockwave erupted across the café terrace and hit Charlie, ripping his body apart in a red blur. The image froze. Jones gazed at it and seemed satisfied.

Ben stared at the screen. He was seeing the blast in a whole new way. When the bomb had exploded, he’d been on the other side of the road behind the cover of the van, with his face down close to the ground. He’d hardly seen a thing.

This image was taken from a completely different angle. It showed the direction of the blast, and it told Ben exactly where the bomb had been. Memories flooded through his mind. He remembered the little boy with the ball. The man at the nearby table with the laptop. He remembered the way the man had shouted at the kid. Most of all, he remembered the fierce look in the man’s eyes.

He’d never forget that face. Especially not now.