“You’re pretending you didn’t know. That this is all a surprise.”
“We didn’t know.”
“Are you really going to pretend that everyone in this village believed I made our troubles disappear, time after time, through kind words and gentle persuasion?”
“If we’d known that you killed everyone who confronted you,” Vanessa hissed, “we’d have stopped you.”
Miranda snorted derisively. “More likely you’d have had a little committee meeting and then sat on your hands. The others knew. Not everyone’s as naïve as you Ness.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“We can argue this out elsewhere. We’ve got more important business at hand.” She dropped the list into the tray.
“Are you insane? More important than wholesale slaughter on our doorstep?”
“Put your self-righteousness away,” Miranda spat. “You should stick to children’s parties and leave the real work to me. If you want to get involved in the difficult stuff you’ve got to deal with reality. HomEvo is more important. The key to what happens here for the next decade and maybe more. Your holding is worth what? Four million?”
“I haven’t checked. The dividend is useful. It doesn’t warrant murder. Untie Christmas and Zav right now.”
Miranda ignored her demand. “Maybe the dividend’s useful now, but look ahead. Divide that stock among your children and grandchildren and it won’t even pay for their education.”
“They’ll make their own living. Like everyone else.”
“Ray Pendle and Doug Maplethorpe still own ten percent of the company. They’re committed to keeping it private. Together with their friends and Baxter’s boys, even without a majority, they’ve got enough votes and enough influence to stop the company floating. But if Ray dies without an heir, almost all of his holding will come to us collectively, in this village, to support us. His super-breed.”
“How do you know this?” Vanessa asked.
“Ray’s lawyer told us.”
I said, “Just before you drowned him.”
Miranda turned the pistol to me saying, “I’d shoot you for the loose change in this tray, but the men outside are going to want retribution for what you’ve done here,” she nodded to the bodies on the floor, “So keep quiet you gold-digging little maggot.”
“Is this what you’ve become Miranda? A wanton killer?” Vanessa’s voice cracked with grief.
“The lawyer was an old man. He had a seizure. No one saw anyone with him.” Miranda glanced at Vanessa and Frank, “He fell in a stream.” She shrugged.
“He drowned in seven inches of water,” I said.
“Oh, Miranda!” Vanessa held Frank to her. “And now you want to kill Christmas for her inheritance?”
“No, although I admit I’ve done worse for a lot less. Do you realize this girl is worth two hundred million to us?” Miranda waved the pistol carelessly at Christmas.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Vanessa sobbed.
“Pull yourself together for everyone’s sake. Try to be practical. This is just a small part of a much bigger plan. If HomEvo was floated as a public company again, traded publicly, selling their health gimmicks and battlefield drugs worldwide, the company’s shares would be worth ten times what they are today. If Christmas dies, the legacy that comes our way would be two hundred million. Put that together with what we’ve already got collectively, plus Maplethorpe’s endowment, we’d have something approaching a billion and enough momentum to persuade the other shareholders to float the business. Public ownership would increase the company’s value ten-fold and then we’d have billions.” Miranda leaned toward Vanessa. “Maybe ten billion Vanessa. One life. Ten billion pounds. We’re looking at security for the next generation of our community and beyond. We can develop the new estate, begin to build our city and then phase three. You remember our dream?”
“I don’t know where you’re getting these numbers from. And what happens to Ariadne? She won’t stay hidden in a public company.”
“A tiny detail in a multi-billion pound pay-off. You’re so small-minded. Alright, we’ve got a place for her here. Among her own family. Our friends at HomEvo will delete her name. She’ll be ‘subject A’. Never traced. You lose a daughter whom you’ve never really known, gain a mother that you’ve always missed and secure the future of the whole village. You know that if people know what we are, our strength, our fertility as a group, our defensive powers,” she tapped her teeth lightly with her thumb, “everything we’ve built here will be snuffed out. Your children and your grandchildren will perish. It might seem like a harsh choice in this room, but it’s just one life for a thousand and five hundred lives. It’s virtually no choice.”
Vanessa looked at Christmas mournfully.
I watched the older woman’s face to see whether she was prepared to sacrifice the life of one of her own children for this brutal scheme. She’d given Christmas up once before.
Miranda said, “We need this. If we hadn’t taken her by force, and Christmas had the choice of sacrificing herself to save everyone here, do you think she’d say no? To save her entire species?”
“I’d find another way you insane bitch,” Christmas growled. “And you don’t need saving. You need locking up.”
Miranda ignored her. “We’re a thousand and five hundred people right now. In a little over a decade, we’ll be nine thousand. A generation on from there, a hundred thousand, then a million, and then a population larger than Europe’s biggest city in just four generations. In a century we’ll have achieved full assimilation and our descendants will dominate the European gene pool. But it all starts here. This is a critical moment. We need to make a tough decision here in this room, and a few others over the next couple of days to give us unstoppable momentum.”
Vanessa said, “You don’t need to kill Christmas. We’ve had plenty of critical moments. You’re talking about a future where none of us is even alive. We’re not about species domination.”
“Aren’t we?” Miranda said, getting off the table and standing over the tall man on the floor, turning him over with her foot. She looked without emotion at his contorted, lifeless face. “If you let this pair carry on, there’ll be a front page story about our girls and their killer venom, and the next day there’ll be mobs here killing everyone in this village.” She knelt beside the second man, putting two fingers to his neck and after finding no response, stood up. “All our children, slaughtered by real monsters. Don’t you remember the terror we experienced right at the beginning? Have you forgotten your dead brother and sister? And the constant fear we lived with before we got established here? Let’s get a few things straight. Look at this pair of innocent-looking killers,” she waved the pistol at me and Christmas, “who’ve just murdered people whose families will be mourning them with a greater sense of loss than you could possibly feel for these two. You haven’t seen Christmas in years. What exactly are you trying to save?”
“I’m saving my own daughter.”
“You gave her up, remember? She carries someone else’s name.”
“She’s mine in blood. My bond with Christmas is eternal. And what you’re proposing is wrong. No matter how much money is involved, it’s fundamentally immoral. You can’t weigh lives on the value of money. And besides, even by your way of thinking, Ray would never endow his child’s murderers.”
“You’re right, he wouldn’t. Timing is critical. Christmas has to die and then Ray soon after, before he reacts to her death and makes some other legacy arrangement. I have a man ready to call at the flying saucer and induce a heart attack.”
Vanessa said, “You’re insane and this level of greed is sickening.”
“No, it’s rational. You’re just being sentimental. We can’t feed our children on sentiment.”
Frank said, “Nor can we with HomEvo equity. The business won’t last forever. Especially when it’s competing globally and publicly. Its assets could be sold. We’d have very little control over what
happens.”
“Vanessa, Frank, this is happening. I’ve planned for this. You don’t understand, but your children will thank me.”
“Christmas is one of my children!”
“Barely. Look at these weapons. No natural defenses. I’d planned a car accident, but now her end will be a joint gunshot suicide.”
“No!” Vanessa stepped between Miranda and Christmas, and put her hand to the muzzle of the pistol.
THIRTY-FOUR
“Vanessa, move aside! I don’t expect you to have the stomach for this. I’ll do the hard part, the way I always have. If I fail now, the whole village is in danger.” Miranda used her greater weight to bring the pistol down, pointing it directly at Vanessa’s midriff.
Frank started moving toward his wife.
Vanessa tried to push the pistol away, groaning with the effort, “Frank, help me!”
He grabbed the cutters from the tray, sliding them across the table to Christmas as he rushed to his wife’s side. Frank and Vanessa struggled to wrest the pistol from Miranda.
Miranda grunted, “You’re making a mistake.”
Christmas frantically snapped at the remaining cable ties on her legs.
Miranda bellowed over her shoulder toward the external door, “Jakov, get in here!”
The outside door opened suddenly and one of the men from the café entered with a large, black pistol in his hand.
Christmas snapped the last cable tie from her ankle. She threw the cutters to me and dived for the plastic tray.
Jakov’s fierce gaze took in the heaving bodies near the window, wrestling with the pistol, before he turned quickly to see Christmas on the other side of the table, rushing for the guns in the tray. He trained his weapon on her.
Leaping almost horizontally beside the table, Christmas snatched the larger remaining pistol from the tray, falling to the floor, her free hand outstretched to break her fall.
The Russian fired two shots, both hitting the table top at a shallow angle, spraying wood splinters and wall plaster into the air.
The deafening blast yanked at the struggling mass of bodies. We all froze and turned to look at Christmas, lying prone on the floor, unfazed by the gunfire, weapon pointing low at the Russian.
She shot Jakov in the knee from under the table.
He stumbled and dropped to the floor. The gun, loose in his grip from the shock, bounced out of his hand. He grabbed for the weapon.
I cut the last of the cable ties.
A second man came through the door.
Christmas fired three shots in quick succession, hitting Jakov in the chest and head. His body sagged, fell to the floor and he expelled his last breath with a groan.
The second man aimed at me as I stood up.
Christmas shot him in the hip from floor level, spinning him partway around as his pistol boomed. The bullet smashed into the wall behind me, showering plaster and dust on my face.
Grimacing with shock and pain he turned to point his gun at Christmas under the table.
Her pistol blasted a bullet into his thigh. He buckled from the impact, falling to the floor, gun in hand. Her next shot, a fraction of a second later, punched a hole through his head before he’d had time to break his fall.
He hit the floor stone dead, bouncing once on the floorboards like a sack of flour.
Frank and Vanessa had managed to point the gun away to the window.
Miranda let go of the gun with her right hand for a moment, striking Frank ferociously and knocking him down.
Christmas slid across the table; I rushed to help Vanessa, both of us trampling on the dead bodies and skidding on blood to get to Miranda.
Vanessa had used the momentary advantage of two hands on the gun against Miranda’s one. With the greater leverage from the barrel end, she’d twisted the weapon against Miranda’s grasp.
The larger woman’s fingers lost their grip on the pistol. The muzzle now pointed at her black-shirted chest. Miranda brought her fist in a wide sweep to knock Vanessa down.
Christmas and I grabbed her arm before she could make contact.
A deafening shot made all four of us shudder.
Miranda said quietly, “I’m sorry Ness,” and slumped to her knees.
We still held her arm, unsure of where the shot had landed.
I looked at Vanessa. Her face was red with exertion. Blood spattered her open jacket and her blue chocolate-flecked shirt. I looked down at Miranda’s ashen face.
Her body shook with rasping breaths. We let go of her arm slowly and she sagged against the window, pulling a section of venetian-blind down behind her. Her own blood on her hands was a deep-red, almost black. On her clothes the stain spread dark and glistening.
Vanessa stood frozen, open-mouthed with shock. She knelt quickly beside Miranda. “I’m sorry Miri. I didn’t mean to shoot.” The pistol hung loose in Vanessa’s grasp.
Miranda said weakly, “It’s over. For all of us.”
Christmas swiftly stepped around me and took the weapon from Vanessa, saying to Miranda, “How many more of your men are here?”
Miranda looked blankly at Christmas.
I turned to Frank. He was lying on his front. I knelt by his head, turning his shoulders to see his face. The glint of a gold HomEvo leaping-figure badge on the outside of his jacket caught my eye. As I put him on his side in the recovery position, he regained consciousness.
Groggily, he called, “Vanessa?”
“I’m alright Frank,” she answered. She held Miranda’s hand.
Vanessa’s phone was ringing. She answered and said, “Get an ambulance. Miranda is shot.” After listening for a minute she said to us, “There are two more gunmen at the front, waiting for us to leave.” She passed the phone to Christmas.
“It’s Christmas. Who’s this?” She listened and then said, “I’ll call you back in one minute with a plan of action. Put your phone on vibrate.” To Vanessa and Frank, she asked, “Where are we?”
Frank cupped his hand behind his ear.
Christmas said loudly to him, “What kind of building is this?”
Frank shouted, “It’s Miranda’s farmhouse.” He paused. “I can hardly hear anything—from the shots,” he yelled.
Christmas shouted, “It’s ok. Go on.”
“We’re in the room at the back,” he bellowed. “There are fields behind here. They go down to woodland. We’re on a hill, near the top.”
“What’s at the front?”
“It’s overlooked by a small copse about a hundred yards to the right, as you look from the front door. Four vehicles are parked in front of the house. Yours, Miranda’s and two other cars which we think belong to these thugs. Our cars are parked down the hill. We walked the last part. Four of your uncles are in the copse. They have rifles. The road to this farmhouse stops outside. Then there’s a gate to the fields.”
“Can we get to the front around the side of the house?”
Frank thought for a moment. “Yes, there’s no fence. You can get through on either side.”
Vanessa asked, “Is the ambulance on its way?”
Miranda’s eyes were closed. She murmured incoherently.
Vanessa put her head close to Miranda’s, holding the bigger woman’s hand tightly. “I won’t leave you.”
Christmas said, “Uncles?”
“Yes,” Frank replied slowly, “A couple of Vanessa’s brothers and two of her in-laws. So to speak.”
Christmas called her newly recognized uncle back on the phone while she collected her spare magazines and other possessions from the plastic tray. She reloaded her pistol and put her smaller pistol in her ankle holster. “Is the ambulance coming? Have you called the police? Good. We’ll come around the left side of the house viewed from your position. We’ll invite them to give up. If they shoot, we all shoot back. Agreed? Okay, two minutes.”
I said, “Shouldn’t we just wait for the police to handle the thugs outside?”
“No. They might get away before the poli
ce arrive. They might come back inside the house. There’s enough of us here to tackle them. It’s not perfect, but as General George Patton said, a good plan violently executed now, is better than a perfect plan next week. These people are killers. We have the opportunity and the responsibility to stop them.”
Christmas dashed around the room collecting weapons from the dead men, “Get the cable ties from him,” she said to me, pointing to the man who’d given her a black eye and swollen cheek. She gave a pistol to Frank, saying loudly and slowly, “You might need this if something goes wrong and the villains come back here. Do you know how to use it?”
He nodded.
She said into his ear, “Don’t let Miranda near it. She might be confused and unpredictable. And Frank, don’t touch the money on the floor. It has nerve agent on it. It’ll kill anyone who touches it. I’m taking Ness’s phone.” She said to me, “You said you fired a gun but didn’t enjoy it?”
“Yes, in a shooting range abroad.”
Christmas weighed the pistol in her hand and checked the chamber. “This is ready to shoot. Maybe a dozen rounds. If you pull the trigger, it will fire. Be careful. Don’t shoot from behind me or near my face. And don’t shoot the men in the copse.” She put the pistol in my hand.
I looked down at the deadly weapon.
She studied my face anxiously. “On second thoughts, don’t shoot at all. Just keep this in case they get close to us and you think I need help. Point it at the ground and keep your finger off the trigger, unless you intend to shoot.”
“How come everyone around here has guns?”
“Farming folk and criminals.” Christmas looked down at Miranda. “Though it’s not completely obvious who is who.”
I followed Christmas out of the back door into the damp night air. There was some light from the gibbous moon. We crouched for a moment in the shadows at the side of the house, under the branches of a small tree, letting our eyes become accustomed to the darkness. Carefully, we made our way to the front of the building, staying close to the wall, walking on the grass to avoid the crunch of gravel. There was no sound other than the ringing in my ears from the shooting.