Burning Angels

21

Jaeger expected to be dragged back into the stress room. Instead he was steered left for several seconds, before being brought to a sudden halt. There was a different smell in the air now: disinfectant, and the unmistakable reek of stale urine.

‘Toilet,’ his captor barked. ‘Use the toilet.’

Ever since his ordeal had started, Jaeger had been forced to piss wherever he stood or squatted. Now he unbuttoned his overalls with his bound hands, leant against the wall and relieved himself in the direction of the urinal. The black bag had still not been removed, so he had to pee blind.

There was a sudden conspiratorial whisper. ‘You look like I feel, mate. Bastards in here, aren’t they?’

It sounded close, as if the speaker was standing right beside him. It sounded friendly; trustworthy almost.

‘The name’s Dave. Dave Horricks. You lost all track of time? Yeah, me too. Feels like forever, eh, mate?’

Jaeger didn’t answer. He sensed a trap. Another mind game. He finished his business and went to button up his overalls.

‘Mate, I hear they got your family. Holding them nearby. You got a message – I can pass it across to them.’

By a massive force of will, Jaeger managed to remain silent. But what if there really was a chance here to get a message to Ruth and Luke?

‘Quick, mate, before the guard returns. Let me know what you want me to tell ’em – your wife and kid. And if you’ve got a message for your friends, I can get one to them ’n’ all. How many are there? Quick now.’

Jaeger leant towards the man, as if he wanted to whisper something in his ear. He could sense the guy moving closer.

‘Here’s the message, Dave,’ he croaked. ‘Go screw yourself.’

Moments later his head was rammed down and he was whipped around and marched out of the urinal. A few twists and turns and he heard a door open. He was shoved into another room and steered into a chair. The hood was pulled off; light flooded in.

Before him sat two figures.

His mind could barely take it in.

It was Takavesi Raffara, plus the youthful figure of Mike Dale, though right now the latter’s long hair was straggly and unkempt, his eyes deep-set and dark – no doubt the result of the recent loss he’d suffered.

Raff tried a smile. ‘Mate, you got a face that looks like it’s been hit by a bloody truck. I’ve seen you looking worse, after an all-nighter in the Crusting Pipe watching the All Blacks hammer your guys. But still…’

Jaeger said nothing.

‘Listen, mate,’ Raff tried again, realising that humour wasn’t going to cut it. ‘Listen to me. You’ve not been taken captive by anyone. You’re still in the Falkenhagen Bunker. Those guys who threw you in that truck – they drove around in circles.’

Jaeger remained silent. If he could only get his hands free, he’d murder the both of them.

Raff sighed. ‘Mate, you have to listen. I don’t want to be here. Neither does Dale. We’re not in on this shit. We only learned what they’d done when we got here. They asked us to sit in and be the first people you got to see. They asked because they figured you would trust us. Believe me. It’s over, mate. It’s finished.’

Jaeger shook his head. Why the hell should he trust these bastards; trust anyone?

‘It’s me. Raff. I am not trying to trick you. It’s over. It’s done.’

Jaeger shook his head again: Screw you.

Silence.

Mike Dale leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. It struck Jaeger that he looked like a washed-out heap of shit. Even during their worst moments in the Amazon, Jaeger had never once seen Dale looking anything close to this.

Dale glanced at Jaeger with tired, puffy eyes. ‘As you can probably tell, I’ve not been sleeping. I just lost the woman I loved. You think I’d be here, dumping this kind of crap on you, after losing Hannah? You think I’m capable of that?’

Jaeger shuddered. A bare whisper: ‘I figure anyone’s capable of just about anything right now.’ He didn’t have a clue what or who to believe any more.

From behind him, he heard a faint knock at the door. Raff and Dale eyed each other. What the hell now?

Unbidden, the door swung open and an aged, stooped figure entered, stick held firmly in his grasp. He stopped beside Jaeger, placing a wizened hand on his shoulder. He winced as he eyed the beaten and bloodied figure sitting in the chair.

‘Will, my boy. I trust you don’t resent the intrusion of an old man into these… proceedings?’

Jaeger stared up at him through swollen, bloodshot eyes. ‘Uncle Joe?’ he croaked disbelievingly. ‘Uncle Joe?’

‘Will, my boy, I’m here. And as I’m sure your friends have told you, it’s over. It really is over. Not that any of this should ever have been necessary.’

Jaeger reached up with his bound hands and clasped the old man’s arm tightly.

Uncle Joe squeezed his shoulder. ‘It’s over, my boy. Trust me. But now the real work begins.’