~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Things were starting to settle down inside the factory. Most of the men had been apprehended and were in custody. Jake still stood motionless in the middle of the room, holding a gun. He was still shocked by what had just happened, so much so that he failed to notice D.I Arnold standing next to him. “I'm sure you were aware that we have been chasing after Ironside for a while,” he said, making it sound like a question.
“I’ve heard that, yes,” Jake answered.
“He was one of the most wanted men in the country. He has been responsible for illegal trades worth more than eight hundred million pounds.”
Jake had known Ironside was rich, but he had no idea he was that rich. Arnold continued to explain. “Most of those trades were done by others, but were supervised by Ironside. They have all happened within the past three years. Goods ranged from weapons and drugs to illegal immigrants. He was the organised crime equivalent of the guy on the market stall who sells fake Rolexes one week and bathroom furniture the next. Whatever he could find, he would do a trade in it. It is believed that his trades have led to at least six terrorist attacks in this country over those three years, and possibly to terrorist activity elsewhere in the world.”
“So why did it take so long to catch him?” Jake asked in a tone that he hoped sounded more inquisitive than accusing.
“He was really elusive. He had moved from town to town, from county to county, every time there was a chance of getting caught. He was creative in his organisation to the point that it took over a year to get real evidence linking him to these trades. It was always the same story. By the time the local police realised who he was, and tracked him down, he moved on again. No more than two trades happened in any one town before moving to the next place.”
“Then how did you know he was here?”
“Another Constabulary recently arrested someone who had participated in a trade. He had sprayed the money he used in the trade with an invisible isotope. It was a means of protection to him – a kind of insurance, if you will. It proved to be useful to him and to us. After his arrest, he made a deal to help the police bring down Ironside. They tracked the isotope to this town and informed us.”
Jake nodded, signifying that he understood.
“After that, we simply followed local leads and intelligence, which led us here today.”
Jake was still concerned about his part in all of this. “Mr Hingham,” Arnold continued, “Did you know we had a price on his head?”
“What do you mean?”
“You've heard the phrase 'Wanted: Dead or Alive', I presume?”
“I have heard that, yes.”
“That's what we said about this guy. There was a reward for his capture. You have also helped to save the lives of several officers and the reputation of this police force.”
Jake was surprised by news of such a reward. He had no idea that the British Government would ever actually hand out money when someone helped to apprehend a criminal. He assumed law enforcement would take the credit and the guy that assisted would simply get a “thank you” and a handshake.
“So you’re telling me I’m not going to prison for shooting Ironside?” Jake asked.
“On the contrary Mr Hingham. You had no other choice. In any case, they are stabilising Ironside and are confident he will recover. We wouldn't have succeeded here today without you and your tip-off. You are to be rewarded for what you've done today. Who knows what might have happened if it hadn’t been for your bravery,” D.I Arnold added. Jake could answer that, but he decided to leave it as a rhetorical question.
Jake wanted to ask how large the reward would be, but felt the question could be asked at a more suitable moment. “We'll need to take down your statement of the events, and see how it compares to those of the others involved. My statement, the statements of the other officers, and those of the parties involved in the trade will have to agree with yours. This may take some time.”
“How do I know you’re not trying to get me to admit to having a part in all of this?” Jake questioned, a little suspiciously.
Arnold laughed. “I’m actually outranked here now. The head officer for SO13 is in charge. If you wait around long enough he will tell you the same thing I have just told you.”
D.I Arnold pointed out the man in charge. “His name is Commander George Keeble. He's the head of SO13 and the senior ranking officer on-site.”
D.I Arnold walked away, and Jake was finally approached by Commander Keeble. He was about six feet tall and built like a house. Despite having a name that sounded to Jake like a cartoon character representing a breakfast cereal, this guy was huge.
“Mr Hingham, I believe,” he said. His voice was much more high-pitched than Jake would have guessed. Jake nodded and shook the hand offered by the man. “Detective Inspector Arnold may have mentioned the reward associated with Paul Ironside.”
Jake nodded again. “Yes, he did.”
“I need you to make a statement, and then we can begin to process all of the necessary documentation. Before you know it you’ll have your official letter of recognition from the Police Commissioner, and you’ll be presented with a suitable reward.” He started to walk away from Jake, then turned back to face him. “I presume he told you how much you’d get as a reward?”
Jake shook his head. “No sir.”
He seemed surprised that this bit of information had not yet been communicated to Jake, and then smiled, apparently eager to hand out some good news. “Currently, the reward for finding and helping apprehend and convict Paul Ironside stands at five hundred thousand pounds.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After Jake had recovered from the shock of Commissioner Keeble's words, he agreed to do anything the police asked of him. One officer took the gun from him and placed it into a plastic evidence bag. The officer scurried off, attached a label over the seal, and wrote the necessary details on it. Jake wondered whether he would ever be able to claim back his replica weapon, but decided against asking the question. Besides, with half a million pounds he could afford as many of those weapons as he liked. On reflection, he had probably outgrown such a toy anyway.
Another policeman took Jake to a police van outside. He climbed in through the open sliding door to the back of the van where a pen and some letter-headed paper had been placed on a small plastic shelf, ready for his written statement.
After spending half an hour writing his version of events, Jake had the statement read back to him by the officer. He then signed it, had his fingerprints taken as a formality, then he was allowed to go. He returned to his car and drove the relatively short distance home.
It was now just after three o'clock in the afternoon. The police processing had taken some time and would likely go on into the night, maybe even for several days. Everything that might have been considered evidence needed to be photographed, forensically examined and documented, before being boxed up and removed to the police vaults as evidence. Scene of Crime Officers took photographs of the spot where Ironside had been shot from every conceivable angle. They were still there long after the man had been moved to the hospital and replaced with a hundred yellow plastic tags that looked almost like name cards for a funky dinner party.
As he made his way home through the school traffic, Jake thought about the difference he had seen in D.I Arnold. It still unnerved him that someone with a high rank in the local police force would be so susceptible to corruption. It had taken very little to change him from law upholder to lawbreaker. He wondered if everyone could be broken so easily when their own family was at risk. He hoped that for the majority of people, the switch to killer from law abiding citizen would not happen so easily, but how could one know for certain, unless through one’s own experience?
The thought of receiving five hundred thousand pounds was of course hugely exciting for Jake. Without needing to consider his options, he decided that he would quit work and try to do something he really wanted to do. He had not yet figured
out exactly what that was, but it certainly was not customer support or anything to do with spying or law enforcement. He had experienced more than a week of the grim reality which surrounded life as a spy, and that had been more than enough for his entire lifetime.
He had no idea how Amy would respond to his news. He figured her first response would be laughter, followed by disbelief, followed by acceptance, then finally excitement.
Jake had just endured the most hectic and stressful time of his life, and now he could look forward to an evening of celebration, followed by normality. Now that the wrongs had been righted, he would soon experience time moving in a forward motion again. That fact alone would be enough to make him deliriously happy.
He could not wait to get home and tell Amy and the kids that their lives had just changed for the better forever. They would take some convincing, he knew, but his actions were on record as fact, so this time he could prove it.
He just hoped that now he had definitely succeeded, and that time would start going in the right direction.
CHAPTER 20
Saturday 31st January, 9:03am
Jake’s eyes opened and he looked around the room. His head was pounding and he felt nauseous. His mouth was dry and he felt like he had been beaten heavily from head to toe. For some reason it felt like he had awoken from the worst hangover he had ever suffered in his entire life.
He cast his mind back to his yesterday to ease the pain he was suffering. The day had been fantastic, and he was certain he was going to wake up where this had all started. He looked at the alarm clock. It was just after 9am. He looked across the room at the daily calendar on his bedside set of drawers. It was the Saturday after his family had been killed. Life seemed to have been put back to normal.
The end of this instance of the Replacement Phenomenon had obviously flung him back to the point in time he had left several days earlier, skipping the previous week and a half. He was confused as to how he had lived through two versions of the previous days, collecting memories of events that no longer existed. What had happened over the past week and a half? Had he been on autopilot? There were a number of questions whizzing around in his clouded mind, and he would likely never be able to answer them.
He turned over in bed to discover the other half of the bed was empty. Amy must have woken up early. He put his arm on her side of the bed. It was cold. She had been out of the bed for some time.
He got out of bed, threw on his dressing gown, and went to the balcony. He saw the empty bottle of wine he had left there the night following the incident that started all of this, now several days ago as far as he was concerned. Why was the bottle still there?
He opened the large doors and walked onto the balcony, somewhat afraid to peer below to see the state of the Mercedes Benz on the driveway. His car had some substantial damage on the driver's side of the bonnet. The gatepost looked like it was about to fall over, all indicative of the accident he had been involved in previously.
Yellow “Crime Scene” tape marked the perimeter of his garden.
Jake was suddenly panicking, unable to breathe. He hunched over and clung to the railing on the balcony, almost involuntarily sending himself flying over the railing to the front garden below. He was gripped by fear and panic in a way he had never been before. He had gone through all of the stress, aggravation, pain and torment of the past ten days, and yet his family were still gone.
All the signs suggested that his rewind through time had no impact on his life whatsoever. The house was quiet, and the upstairs looked as if an indoor tropical storm had hit it. The whole house seemed to be the way he had left it the night following his family being taken from him.
He knew the Replacement Phenomenon had actually happened to him, but he feared that it was somehow a very long, very strange dream. Surely no one could create all of that in their head as they slept, let alone someone with the limited imagination of Jake. All of this was real. He knew it had been real. Why was his life no different now?
He managed to pull himself back inside and closed the doors. He knelt on the floor where he had been standing, with his back towards his balcony. He had nowhere to go from here.
Surely he had made some kind of a difference. He could not have gone through everything he had gone through for nothing. He covered his face with his hands and was about to burst into tears when he heard noises downstairs. He walked to the top of the stairs and listened. He heard cutlery clattering off bowls and plates. He heard Amy's voice. He heard his children talking and laughing.
Excited, he charged down the stairs, almost losing his footing on more than one occasion. He rounded the corner and hurried through the dining room into the kitchen. There he saw Amy, Jason and James sat at the table eating breakfast. Relief rushed through every inch of his body as he caught his breath. They all looked at him as if he was acting strangely. This was clearly not normal behaviour for Jake and he knew it. “Is everything okay?” Amy asked.
“Everything’s fine now.” He said. “A bad dream I guess.”
“It’s no surprise after last night’s excitement.” Jake realised that something must have happened, and he had no idea what. Amy clearly noticed his confusion.
“Have you forgotten?” she said. Then she laughed. “Two drunk guys wandered into our garden and whacked the car as well as anything else they felt like. It was quite frightening. Not the kind of thing we usually get on our street.”
“And the police tape? Is that really necessary?” He asked.
“The police regarded it as a crime scene and are still treating us like royalty after your heroics last week.” She smiled at him, shaking her head slightly. “You really don't remember that do you?” Jake shook his head.
“You must have really had a bad night.” She said.
“You have no idea.” Jake confirmed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
With everything that had happened recently, Jake was going to make the most of a day with his family. After breakfast they walked to South Park with its vast green football fields. Jake enjoyed an hour or so of kicking around a football with his two sons. They clearly enjoyed it too, despite the cold January weather.
He found it hard to block out everything bad that he had experienced, but he put it all to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on just enjoying himself.
As he stood in between the goal markers made from their own coats, Jake was distracted for a moment. He noticed Peter White with his wife walking a dog through the park.
It had been a few days since he had been chasing around trying to save Arnold’s victims. In the distance he had just seen some further evidence of his success. This day was getting better with every minute. His sons made him look amateur in goal, but he was anything but surprised by that. They played football regularly and he had not played in about five years, and even then he had little skill to display.
After returning home for lunch they journeyed into the town centre for a bit of light shopping. They were about to be presented with a large sum of money and couldn’t resist a look at what they would be able to buy. As they walked from one shop to the next, he recognised the face of Julie Clark walking past them on the street. There was another victim he had managed to save.
At the end of their shopping trip, Jake suggested buying the family several items from a local bakery. There was one that he had passed many times before, but had never tried. They crossed the road and he entered the B. Brady & Sons Butchers and Bakery. He was pleased to see Brian Brady doing what he had been doing for years, with his son Joseph rushing around in the background. The family enjoyed the various pastries they had bought, and then happily made their way home.
The day was nothing remarkable or terribly exciting, but to Jake it was one of the best days of his life. Someone had taken his family away from him, but he had somehow been given a second chance. Not only that, but he had given many other families a second chance in return, and they had no idea Jake even existed.
He was not aware of who had first said it, but there was a great deal of truth in the statement “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”
He would never let himself be anything other than happy with the life he had. He had a wonderful wife and two great kids. He had let himself be distracted from them in the past, all with seemingly insignificant things, but that would never happen again. One traumatic event, which had now been completely undone, had awoken him to the most important thing in his life.
He would remember the feeling of losing them every day of his life. Yesterday – the original yesterday – had handed him the lowest of lows, but today had lifted him up again. His family were alive and happy and that was more than he could have hoped for a week and a half ago.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was now late into the evening. With the children in bed, Jake and Amy sat in the lounge looking at the biggest cheque they were ever likely to behold. It still seemed inconceivable that he could be paid for shooting someone, regardless of how bad people perceived him to be.
The on-site medical team had treated Ironside quickly, and his life had been saved as a result. He was recovering in a secure hospital and would remain in police custody until standing trial for a string of offences ten times longer than the family’s weekly shopping list.
The police were happy to pay out a substantial reward to Jake due to the eventual confiscation of all of Ironside's assets on successful prosecution. It all seemed strange to him, but he was not about to argue. Jake would soon pay off his mortgage and could live comfortably, thanks in part to the efforts of Ironside and Jake’s own willingness to put himself in danger to apprehend him.
He was thrown off his train of thought when Amy left the room for a minute, then returned, apparently with something on her mind. “I have some news. I wanted to make sure before I said anything.” He wondered what she was going to say next, but he thought he had some idea. “I’m about three weeks pregnant.” Even though Jake was not expecting the news, he was neither surprised, nor scared by it. It seemed life was looking up in every possible way. Life with three children would be a challenge, but not as much of a challenge as living the rest of his life without any of them.