CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - DANNY
“What bloody happened out there, bruv?” Theo asks as we all enter Eliza’s.
“Somebody tried to fool the Queen’s Guard with fake Crown Jewels, and it didn’t go well,” I say.
“Bloody hell does that mean, mate?”
“It means these three”—I point at Eliza, Christine, and Alec—“thought they could trick a team of armed mercenaries with the old mistaken identity routine.”
“Oh, right, mate,” Eliza says, wryly, “it’s our fault. Not at all the fault of the two people who showed up here suggesting that we assault a virtual fortress in the hopes of retrieving a man no one would really miss in the first place.” Then she adds, “I’m referring to you, Christine, and Alec, lest there be any doubt.”
“Eliza,” I offer, “I know we haven’t seen each other in a while and that we don’t really know each other that well, but I’d like to invite you to go fuck yourself.”
“All right, all right,” interjects Russell. “Let’s all just take a breath, shall we? We got in, got Alec, and all made it back safe and sound. So, mission accomplished, yeah?”
There’s general mumbling, in which I participate, because if you just look at the Xs and Os of the thing, he’s technically correct. Still, something isn’t sitting right for me…
“Why’d they stop?” I ask.
“Why did who stop?” Eliza responds.
“The mercs.”
“How do you know they’re mercs?”
“What-fucking-ever! The guys with the guns. They stopped shooting. Why? Somebody must’ve ordered it. Who? Did you see?”
“No, luv. I was in the truck wondering why we weren’t moving.”
I look at Brenden, who’s at the fridge, opening a Whitbread Pale Ale. He shrugs. I step over, snatch the beer from him, take a sip, and hand it back. He scowls at me.
I look to Russell, who shrugs also, and Charlie, who doesn’t seem to notice because he’s focused on Christine, who stands in the corner, kind of hugging herself.
“Alec,” I say, regarding him. He looks absurd in pants and a jacket that are three inches too short and no shoes. The beard also looks ridiculous on him. Some people are built for beards, some not so much. Alec is definitely in the latter category. “What the fuck happened? Do you know?”
He lifts his head, looks at each of us in turn, taking me in last, and says, “Lars.”
“Lars?” I repeat. He nods. “What about Lars?”
“It’s him. He’s the one. He’s the one who brought me there. He’s the one who was keeping me there. It’s him.”
“Fuck are you saying?”
He shrugs. “Dunno, man. Dunno how. Dunno why. But we saw him. Christine saw him, then I saw him. Standing there. Watching it all. He’s the one behind it. He’s the one who stopped it.”
“I don’t even understand how—”
“Yeah, I don’t either, man. But I don’t make the fokken news. I just report it.”
There’s a moment of silence before Eliza shakes her head, echoes Alec in an almost inaudible, sarcastic mumble, “You don’t make the news…” and then says brightly, “Well, very good! Good luck to the three of you. Goodbye now. Charlie, Brenden, Russell, Theo… tea?” She goes to the stove and grabs up a kettle.
I rub my hand down my face and say, “Yeah, OK. We’ll go. But you should too.”
“What’s that mean?” Theo asks.
“If Lars is somehow the reason that Alec is still alive then he’s not done.”
“Done with what?” Eliza says.
“Us. I guess. Christine gave you the highlights,” I remind her, “so you know that he’s got a vendetta that’s not been settled yet.”
“That’s insane.”
“Yeah. No shit,” I say. “Have you met the van den Bergs?”
“Fair point,” she accedes.
“And now, you’re all implicated in this whole thing,” I finish.
“Fucking hell,” Russell says. “Are you taking the piss? I fuckin’ hope so, mate. Because otherwise this is gonna cost quite a bit more than a quarter million quid, yeah?”
“Danny,” Eliza says, touching my arm gently, “get the fuck out of my house now, please.”
“Fine,” says Alec, stepping between us, “we’ll go. But he’s right. You should protect yourselves. Just, at the least, be cautious for a bit. Until…” He drifts off, his gaze shifting over to Christine.
“Until what?” Eliza asks.
“Until I’ve killed him.”
Christine looks up now, her eyes meeting Alec’s. They hold each other’s stare. There’s a lot—an awful, dreadful lot—for us to unpack. It was already going to be a messy reunion with the way Alec wound up in this state.
Add to that the fact that the whole reason he wound up here at all owes to whatever happened between Christine and Lars—the details of which she still can’t fully recall or just isn’t willing to share—and now it seems that Lars is also still alive and behind Alec being alive.
Add to that the fact that we have included the Watsons into our adventure, and we have a history with them.
Add to that the fact that, apparently, there’s a whole separate history between Eliza, Christine, and Alec that I wasn’t even present for.
And then add to that the fact that this whole history between them that I wasn’t present for appears to have resulted in…
“Hopscotch?” The tiny, curious accent comes from the doorway behind us. It’s tinged with a hint of sleepiness. I turn to see Alexandria standing there, yawning, rubbing her little eye with her little fist. She holds a raggedy, brown teddy bear with part of its ear and one eye missing. Theo goes to her.
“Hey, hey there, pigtails. Whatchou doin’ awake? You’re s’posed to be napping.”
“I heard talking.” She points at me and says, “He’s going to hopscotch with me.”
And there’s something in the way she says it. Something about the clear, decisive nature of it. The unwavering self-certainty that because this is what she expects is going to happen, it is going to happen. The way she points at me. All of it. That reminds me of…
When I look over, Alec has both hands pressed to his shaggy chin in what resembles a small prayer. His mouth is open, and his eyes are drifting back and forth between the tiny one and her mother. Eliza has her hand on her hip and her eyes closed. She sighs.
I look at Christine who doesn’t move, consciously, but who radiates with an energy that causes her to look like she’s vibrating. I know that vibration. Water gathers in her eyes. Not sadness.
Intensity.
Rage.
And when Alec then says, “Right. We need to make sure you’re all protected,” she stands, opens the door, and marches out, slamming it hard behind her.
Yeah… there’s a lot to unpack.