Clocking In.
Chapter One
October fifth.
Towering
Graffiti covered walls loomed over him. He watched as they crept around him,
stealing the blue from the sky and sucking the oxygen from the air. Flaming
dragons and benign cartoons screamed at him from their multicoloured domain.
Surrealistic horses pulled at the reins in one effort to be free of their
painted prison. All moving�shimmering�rippling�painted on silver mercury and
the horror moved one step closer.
��������� The instant his gun spoke, he knew he
had missed. Its small head snapped back�in the same instant jerked forward and
the thing fell to the ground.
��������� The silence was broken, the haze
surrounding the wall began to clear, revealing one motionless small boy and a
crowd of angry people.
��������� �You killed him.�
��������� �Bastard!�
��������� �Why?�
��������� �What did that little thing do to
you?� Everyone, the whole world shouting at once and further numbing his brain.
This was not happening, he was the best shot in PIA. He had aimed to frighten
this thing from Hell that now looked so much like a child. He had aimed so that
the bullet would whiz past the thing�s ear. The sound of the shot should have
made the thing back away from the Senator. How could he have missed?
��������� �I have never... Never, seen such a cold blooded act,� shouted the Senator. �If this is an example of the great Pias� idea of law enforcement, then I want no more of it. I hired you to act as bodyguard. But you are nothing but a murderer.� As the Senator�s voice was drowned by the shouting onlookers the police dragged Peter Steele to an awaiting car and he saw the wall give one more shudder.
�Nutty,
who that look like?� asked Tzavros struggling against cramp as he removed his
feet from the dashboard.
��������� �Funny, from here I think he looks
like that Musshurren creep, Sir.�
��������� �I think too. How about we do little
sneakings up and catching?�
��������� Clive Nutt reached for the radio only
to be stopped by a vice like grip around his wrist. �We don�t want tell Alex
everything we do, yes? We can catch little fat guy, no need call for help.
Don�t you know?�
��������� �But Sir!� Nervous sweat began to form
on Nutt�s brow. �Don�t we need base clearance?�
��������� �Nope, I�m top agent... Best except
only few others. So we go in.�
��������� Apprehensively Nutt sucked air through
clenched teeth and vainly ran his sleeve across his eyes in a attempt to remove
the cold sweat. Following closely on Tzavros�s heels he wished he could borrow
just a small amount of the Russian�s composure. Nutt watched him weave his way
through traffic with his familiar dancing run. He had never seen him break into
a sweat or tremble, nor for that matter had he seen him laugh. The joke among
other agents was that Russian was one of the easiest language to learn. If you
could say, �yes,� �no,� and for occasional use, �help me.� This was enough.
Laugh! Who had ever heard a Russian joke? With his heart pounding, Nutt trotted
into the gallery behind Tzavros.
��������� It only took one glance to see around
the small room. Three walls covered in an assortment of paintings and one old
man on a rickety chair.
��������� �Where he go?� scowled Tzavros pacing
the room like a hungry cat. �Check for false walls. Nutty! Come! Stop turning
and expecting someone to hit you. He came in, so he here. We find him.�
��������� Half an hour later they had banged on
every inch of the walls and floor but found only solid walls and solid floor.
Nutt began to relax and loosened the grip on his gun. �Not here, Sir. Must have
gone out the back.�
��������� �Out back? How he go out back? Is no
back. Is storeroom, is toilet, da. Is
window? Niet! Is trapdoor? Niet! Is skylight? Niet! I will interrogate that him!� he said pointing at the
shivering old man.
��������� Nutt flinched, he had noticed the
twinkle in the Russian�s eyes and began to search frantically for some means of
distracting him. Everyone had heard the rumours about the Russians and their
cold, unfeeling interrogation methods.
��������� �Sir,
have you seen this painting? It must have taken years to finish,� Nutt said
excitedly.
��������� �Don�t like!� he said taking the
briefest of looks before continuing to jab the old man with a pencil. �It too
big. Then, it too cruel. One big man�one big gun�one big bang and all birds
dead. Thank you, no. Don�t like unnecessary cruelty.� Turning back to the old
man he hissed, �Now, where you hide fat guy?�
��������� �Look at the work on those two dog...�
��������� �Shut up! Run Nutty, now! Is police sirens. Old guy must have set alarms.� Squinting at the old man he added, �We be back! Friend!�
