Marx Girl

“What does it say?”

“I have no idea. I couldn’t break the code. I’m going to hand it in to HQ tomorrow at my meeting, so they can crack it. I have no fucking idea what they were planning.”

“Jesus,” he whispers as he thinks.

I’m not entertaining very well. “Can I get you a cold drink or something, Greg?”

“Yes, please,” he replies.

“Do you want a cup of tea, Didge?”

“Yes, please.” She smiles.

I walk into the kitchen and turn the kettle on, then get the cups from the cupboard. My phone alerts me to a text from my back pocket. I’m just out of their sight. The text is from Joshua.

I’ve deciphered the code

Greg Jackson has sold a nuclear weapon to a terrorist cell for them to use on a neighbouring country… for four-hundred-million dollars

You Are Not Safe

Get Out Of The House.

GET OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW!!!!

24

BEN

I close my eyes.

Holy fuck.

I text back.

He’s here now

Call the police.

I try to control my beating heart. “How are Jenny and the kids?” I call. I begin to open and close the kitchen cupboards, trying to act calmer than I feel.

“All good and going on vacation soon,” he calls back.

I slowly slide out my bottom kitchen drawer, take out the gun that I keep there, and slowly click it open.

Two bullets. Fuck. I close it carefully and try to control the adrenaline that’s pumping through my body.

I raise the gun in my straightened arms and come around the corner.

He has Bridget held by her neck, a gun against her temple.

“Let her go, Greg,” I demand.

He smirks. “Where are the documents?”

I tighten my hold on the gun. “What are you talking about?” I play dumb, trying to buy some time.

“The fucking documents!” he screams as he rips Bridget down. She cries out in pain because of the hold he has her in.

“Let her go,” I demand. “This isn’t her battle.” I squeeze the gun tightly. Bridget is so close to him. If I shoot I may hit her.

“This is her battle. You don’t care about dying, I already know that,” he sneers.

Our eyes are locked.

He fakes a smile. “But you care about her dying.”

“Let her fucking go now!” I yell as I lose control.

He pushes the gun into her temple and she whimpers.

My blood runs cold.

Shoot after three…

“Let her go and I’ll get them. They’re in the safe.”

“Not a fucking chance. I’m not stupid.”

I glance at Bridget and she gives me a subtle nod.

Does she remember what I told her all those years ago?

Years ago, when I was Joshua’s bodyguard, I taught her what to do if she was ever in this position.

Her eyes search mine and she subtly nods again.

She does.

I grip the gun tightly as I reposition my feet.

“Drop!” I yell.

She goes floppy in his arms, falling forward, and it gives me the split- second opportunity I need. I fire once and it hits him right between the eyes.

He falls, dead before he hits the floor.

Bridget screams and I grab her in my arms, holding her so that she can’t see him.

She cries against my shoulder as I hold her. My body is shaking from the adrenaline.

I thought she was going to die.

I close my eyes. Oh, my fucking God, that was too close.

“And then what happened?” the Secretary of State asks.

I sit at a boardroom table with twelve of the UNI leaders. I’ve been in here under interrogation for two hours. I look down the table where Rick, Matt, and Jed are also being interviewed.

They have they fully deciphered document in front of them. After the shooting last night, Didge and I stayed at a hotel until they cleaned up our apartment. I doubt she’ll ever go back there now, though.

She’s a nervous wreck, and who could blame her?

I had to get Ally to stay with her while we had this meeting.

I look at them coldly. “Then… I pulled the trigger.”

The dictation secretary types fast as she takes my statement.

“Did he die straight away?”

“Yes,” I reply as I look straight ahead, void of emotion.

The president stands and clasps his hands behind his back. “We’ve known about this weapon for a while. It was stolen over a year ago from a facility, but we had no way of tracing where it was headed. He organised for the theft, and then was selling it on the black market to the highest bidder.”

I watch him as he paces.

“We now have the intel. It’s at a warehouse in Syria, and the transfer is supposed to be taking place in three-days’ time.”

I frown.

“Thousands and thousands of innocent civilians are going to lose their lives if this transfer takes place.”

I drop my head. Fuck.

“We’re sending in a recovery team.” His eyes find mine. “We want you to lead it.”

I clench my jaw as I listen.

No. I promised Bridget I wouldn’t ever go back.