Chapter sixty five

          The Meeting

And flooding waters, rushing in
Will flood the land with such a din
That mankind cowers in muddy fen
And snarls about his fellow men.

Mother Shipton                1488-1561

Christopher Golde

Date:               1st January 2004                                    Location:        Melbourne, Australia

 

 
                  Kirstie drew long and hard on the cigarette between her lips. She had with practice, influenced by shorts breaks between meetings, learned to smoke an entire cigarette in four or five breaths and now it was almost a habit. She had been waiting only five minutes and was already on her second smoke and that was despite being at her favourite thinking spot.

She had arranged the meeting to be here because there was probably nowhere else in the world she felt safer and at the same time totally isolated. The bush location wasn’t far from where she had lived as a child and even as a small girl her father had brought her to fish in the river.

Since then it had become home to thousands upon thousands of fruit bats that would migrate to the trees that lined the river each day, then fly off to feed and forage every night. Their presence had made the spot even more special for her, as now the forest surrounding the slow-flowing brown silt river seemed to live and breathe as if the bush itself was alive.

She looked up into the trees and she could hear the furry winged creatures chattering to each other. Occasionally, one would spread its giant webbed wings and move from one tree to another.

She guessed her nerves were due to who she was meeting and even though Julie Pierce had recommended him, there was something foreboding that was nagging at her instincts, these same instincts that to date had kept her alive. She knew who Jason King was and even though he avoided the media and lived a reclusive life, he was not a hard man to research. Even in his absence, there had been thousands of articles written about him on the internet, though she guessed by the way they were written, most of them were speculative.

As she finished the cigarette she was smoking, she reached for the packet then stopped herself. This was ridiculous, even for her. She pulled out her mobile phone and looked at the digital reading of the time ’10.10 am’ he was ten minutes late. There was a sudden screech from above as one of the giant fruit bats launched itself from the tree directly above her. At first, it startled her, but then she noticed more of the bats behaving the same and within minutes the noise was deafening, as hundreds, then thousands, took to the skies screeching and circling until there were so many in the sky that it began to block out the light of the sun.

As it grew darker, her fear grew as well and her instincts took over. She turned quickly to walk back up the hill, back towards the car park but had only taken two steps when she saw a figure approaching her down the hill.

The mysterious figure above her descended slowly, silhouetted by the only remaining piece of blue sky. She stopped and watched as the approaching person made their way carefully down the earthen steps of the track. It seemed that the bats became more frenzied as the figure got closer. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and it was probably her imagination, or possibly the now lack of sunlight, but suddenly her world became a much colder place.

She contemplated turning and running, but for some reason, she seemed frozen to the spot. Now she could see that the approaching figure was a man and as he got closer, she recognized him as Jason King from the photo’s she had found on the net.  He wore a long black coat and his blond hair was short and spiked; he seemed to be smiling. He walked directly up to her. Over the noise of the frenzied bats, she heard him speak her name. It was so much like a dream she should have been completely freaked out.

              Kirstie?”

            The imposing figure repeated

She snapped back to the moment.

“Yes, Jason I presume?”

“Yes, I am.”

He took his hand out of his coat pocket, pulled off a leather glove and held it out to her in a welcoming gesture. She grasped his hand and gave it a manly shake. Her father had taught her to always shake a hand firmly, it was the measure of a man’s worth, he had always told her. Although she did have a brother, she had been the closest thing her father had to a son. 

She noticed he held her hand firmly and long. It was a strong grip but there was a gentleness about it. Above them, the bats circled in their thousands and she had hardly noticed how dark it had become. When he finally let go, he looked up at the mayhem above. He removed his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. She heard him mumble something but it was so soft and deep she thought she could have even imagined it. What she didn’t imagine was that the bats were returning suddenly to their trees. When he looked back at her she was immediately taken back by the most emerald green eyes she had ever seen.

“They must not like strangers,” he said, smiling.

“I have never seen them react this way in the middle of the day,” she replied, looking up into the sky, which was now blue again. Now only a few of the winged creatures circled very high above the treetops.

“I would at guess, say they didn’t like you but now I am not so sure, they seemed to have settled.”

“Yes they have, haven’t they?”

He didn’t look into the sky and she knew he was staring at her; she could feel it, but she did not dare look again into those eyes. She still watched the bats. Nearly all had settled and had resumed hanging in large groups from the branches of every tree as far as she could see. She had a sudden curious thought and wondered if they had somehow greeted him, but then put the ridiculous thought out of her head immediately.

“You know Julie Peirce then,” he asked?

“Yes, I met her in Singapore last month.”

She looked back into his eyes and they seemed to have softened.

“So why did she tell you to meet me?”

She noticed how calm and soothing his voice was; it was almost like listening to her father when she was a small child.

                         “I used to work for the Australian Government until I found out about something that I thought the world should know. Ever since I think my life has been in danger. When I spoke to Julie about it as a reporter, she said you might be able to help, that you would understand and may even have a solution. She said you were a kind man. I think she has a crush on you.”

                “I’m flattered,” he smiled at her and she felt a genuine warmth, “what is it you found out about?”

She looked down, hesitated and as always when she began to tell her story, she felt foolish. She reached into her pocket for her cigarettes. As she pulled out the packet she asked, “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“It’s your life,” he replied, obviously not approving of smoking she thought, but she continued to light up anyway. One deep breath from her and the neat white stick of paper and rolled tobacco melted into silver grey charcoal.

“That’s better,” she sighed.

She began to tell her story about the UN council and the discoveries they had made. Jason listened intently.

When she had finished, there was a momentary silence, before Jason sighed and took Kirstie by the hand. He turned and walked off along the path, urging her to walk beside him in the direction of the car park. She was startled at the fact that all of a sudden she felt comfortable and she could offer no resistance.

“Now that I know you and your story,” Jason said, calmly placing his sunglasses back on his head with his free hand, “I am committed to helping you.”

Kirstie stopped walking, tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him back towards her. It had been a forceful pull but she had only managed to turn him slightly. Of his own free will, he turned the rest of the way to face her square. She could no longer see his eyes with the sun shades on and this tended to be even more disturbing to her than staring into his hypnotic eyes.

“What do you mean,” she snapped, “what do you mean you have to help me, the more I get into this the less I seem to understand?”

She was not normally one for crying but her exasperation had now reached a peak and she felt tears beginning to well in her eyes. Jason looked at her pityingly.

‘The poor girl must be so confused,’ he thought, as he studied her through his shades.

“Okay, I will tell you.”

She looked at him expectantly, quickly wiping her eye with the sleeve of her jacket and feeling a little embarrassed.

Jason stared at her intently, wondering just how much he should tell her. She was obviously already frightened, telling her everything could send her over the edge.

“Let’s walk as we talk”, he said, giving her a smile.

She wiped her eyes again with the sleeve and nodded without saying anything. As they walked slowly along the bush track that followed the river, Jason began to tell the girl most of what he knew was a fact. Above them, the bats shuffled for space on the overcrowded branches, making little nattering noises from time to time.

“Firstly, I have met Sir Nigel Stansen and in fact would like to think he is one of the good guys in all of this.”

She looked at him with concern.

“No, I am not going to run to him with you, don’t worry; just hear me out”.

He continued, as he ducked his head to avoid the leaves of a low hung branch.   

“He, in fact, saved my life when the World Trade Centre came down, or I should say his French Secret Services did. Even though he, in my opinion, is a good guy, he is not exactly on my team, if indeed there is team’s in all of this and to be honest I am not sure we are all looking for the same thing, we just seem to cross paths continually. You are here today because of Julie Pierce. I met Julie because she came to me for an interview. As you said, Sir Nigel is chasing spaceships from the future and I am chasing, well at this stage, I am not sure what I am chasing, but I don’t think it’s time travellers.”

Kirstie was looking at him wide-eyed and jaw slightly ajar. Jason looked at her quizzically.

“You were at nine-eleven,” she finally said?

“I was in the tower when it hit,” answered Jason, shuddering a little at the memories.

“Noooo…,” she said and you survived?

“Well obviously yes, but that is a whole different story. That was when I first met Sir Nigel; after that somehow my own personal quest started to merge with that of the time travellers and now I am still trying to put it all together. I dare say Julie sent you to see me because I believe a close friend of hers, who was investigating me, died at the hands of one of my mortal enemies and she also knew I had been assisting Stansen’s team.”

He thought of Julie, their last kiss and all they had been through. ‘How much everything had changed in his life since then.’

“So should I trust you," she asked,?

He felt her grip tightening almost imperceptibly.

“Well at least with me you’re safe, I understand how you feel and yes perhaps I will help you.”

He turned to face her and removed his sunglasses. She seemed pleased to hear this and was smiling and wiping her face.

“Fuck, I haven’t heard someone say that to me for a long time.”

Jason laughed and was about to offer an embrace when he heard gunfire echo down the river and Kirstie lurched forward into his arms. He felt all of her weight fall on to him, as she slumped forward and he looked down at her back where he saw a bloodstain spreading quickly over her white blouse. He noted that at least it was on her shoulder and not the centre of her back. He held her and tried to work out where the shot might have come from.

He heard another shot and this time a tree right next to them exploded, splintering wood all over them. Bats above them screeched and fell from branches, spreading their giant webbed wings to gain flight quickly. As the exploding tree settled, he could only hear the impact of the giant bat wings on the air and amidst the chaos, he lifted Kirstie off her feet and carried her in behind a larger tree. At least now he had an idea of where the shooter was. Presumably, there was one, but he did not know for sure. He lifted Kirstie’s head and could see that she was conscious but dazed.

“Kirstie, Kirstie!”

He gently shook her head to try and bring her back to get her cognitive. Her eyes rolled in her head.

“What the fuck?”

“You have been shot but it’s only your shoulder.”

“I can’t feel my arm”, she slurred her words slightly.

“You have to be able to just concentrate for a sec,” he said, holding the back of her head. Her eyes rolled back again but then she shook her head and looked directly at him.

“Why”?

“I’m not sure yet but we can’t stay here, they will hunt us down, I’m sure.”

She winced at the pain, as she tried to steady herself.

“Perhaps if we separate and I make myself more of a moving target, I can find out just who they are.”

“What do you mean,” she said, looking at him with a frightened expression, “of cause they’re after me?”

“No, not necessarily,” he paused for a brief second, “last month I was sort of responsible for the death of a very nasty cult leader and I have heard they are bent on revenge, so it could be me.”

“But I’m shot,” she protested.

“I didn’t say they were a particularly articulate cult, they don’t seem to care who they kill if you happen to be in their way it is usually their MO to kill anyone.”

He lifted her gently and rested her back against the tree.

“At any rate, attacking them is going to be our only chance of survival.”

“You attacking them,” she said, with obvious doubt intended?

“It’s okay, I have certain skills.”

“You don’t even have a weapon.”

“I want you to stay here,” he said, sternly, “I will come back, I just want to identify our assailant’s position.”

She tried to get up, but Jason put a gentle hand on her.

“Kirstie, you are obviously a survivor yourself, but I have been in this position before and I know how to handle it.”

“What, stuck in the bush with a wounded blonde and a shooter trying to kill us both?”

“Well sort of,” he said, smiling at the feisty little blonde, “I will be back.”

At that, he stood and as she looked around and then back, he was gone. Kirstie held her shoulder and tried to turn slightly to take in her surroundings. She heard another shot echo through the bush but she did not hear where it hit.

“Must be shooting at him”, she said, reassuring herself.

She leaned forward to look around and her shoulder felt like a lump of dead meat.

Next, to the tree she rested behind, was a small thicket of scrub and then she could see the riverbank, dropping away to the slow-moving brown water of the river.  Where she was, the river was fairly narrow, maybe twenty yards across, with a thick overhang of trees.

From her childhood, she remembered that no-one ever travelled on the other side of the river. Another shot rang out, the bats hanging from the trees above her shifted restlessly at the loud noise and one spreads its wings, dropped from the branch and beat its way out into the middle of the river, then attached itself to an overhanging branch and resettled.

‘If only I were a bat,’ she thought.

Jason had moved out onto the river track swiftly, heading in the direction of the shots. He knew that on the track he should be easily seen and that’s what he wanted.

His first objective was to draw the shooter or shooters away from Kirstie, hopefully without getting shot. He moved along the track, never stopping and moving erratically from side to side and tree to tree. When another shot sounded and a branch above his head exploded, he knew it had worked. He also knew there was only one place the shot could have come from to have hit all three places. Now he knew where the shots were coming from, it was time to vanish.

On the ridge next to the car park, the Japanese tourist with a sniper rifle resting on his shoulder and scope to his eye scanned the track looking for his target, but there was nothing. He had just disappeared.

‘The last shot might have hit him,’ he thought, ‘and he is laying on the ground somewhere.’

He scanned back to where the last shot was placed but he could see nothing. He began to systematically work his way back along the track with the scoped sight, all the way to the stairs that led to the track, but nothing.

This was a problem.

He dropped his weapon down, stood up and looked along the stairwell leading up because there is only one way up. A bat fluttered in a tree over the stairway and the gunmen fired blindly at the tree in a growing panic.

Kirstie grew impatient and scared. Jason had not returned. She had heard two more shots and she knew it was possible he was lying on the track somewhere dead and the gunmen were now coming for her. She leaned forward and she could see along the track, but all was quiet. She looked at the still brown water of the river.

Safety was so close, all she had to do was cross the river. She pulled herself forward, pain shot down her side from her shoulder. Two more painful drags and she found herself at the sloping edge of the river bank. She tried to ease her way down the bank head first but it was slippery and she tumbled headfirst towards the water; stopping only as her legs landed in the water.

‘There that wasn’t so bad, I’m almost there. Where are you Mr Jason King, are you even still alive?’

The water was cold but at the moment she would endure anything just to getaway. She lowered her entire body back into the water, till only her head was above water, then pushed off towards the other side. Her injured shoulder was totally useless and she could only swim with one hand. Two strokes away from the bank she was already breathing way to heavy.

“Dam smoking”, she laughed nervously to herself, “they said it would kill me.”

The Japanese gunmen took two steps up towards the car park to make contact with his accomplice. He could see the car but it was not as it should be, the driver’s door was open and someone was lying on the ground on the other side of the car. Fear ripped through his mind. He yelled out towards the car but there was no reply something was dreadfully wrong.

He once again lifted his sniper rifle and pointed it towards the stationary vehicle, stepping over a small bush and moving slowly towards the prone body on the ground. He purposefully plotted a course in his mind that would take him wide of the vehicle until he was able to get a closer view of who it was lying next to the car, though he expected it was Ito.

He maintained a perimeter that kept him relatively close to the bush in case he needed a quick retreat; this was his first mistake. The second mistake happened so fast he probably was not even aware of where the attack came from. As he walked under an overhanging branch he ducked his head slightly and lowered his eyes. As he did so, in that split second, Jason swung down, his legs wrapping around the gunmen’s bent neck, quickly jerking it in a pincer grip until he felt the tell-tale snap of the spine just below the skull.

In a nervous reaction, the assassin’s finger closed on the trigger of his gun and a shot fired into the windscreen of the parked vehicle. Jason allowed the body of the gunmen to drop to the ground then lowered himself from the tree. He walked over and put the assassin’s accomplice back in the car behind the shattered windscreen, closed the door then walked back to the dead man on the ground, picked up the rifle and fired it again through the windscreen, this time into the accomplice then replaced the rifle back in the hand of the body.

“How convenient that was,” he said, satisfied with his handy work, “obvious gang slaying.”

He suddenly remembered Kirstie and ran back towards the staircase.

Kirstie was almost in the centre of the brown river when she heard another gunshot. At the noise, a large bat dropped from a branch over the river and she felt the wind from its wings as it struggled to gain flight. She stopped momentarily to avoid the falling animal and her head submerged. She swallowed a lung full of brown muddy water and gasped for breath. Each time she breathed she seemed to swallow more water and she realized with one arm only she was in real trouble. As she broke the surface a third time, gasping desperately, she heard another gunshot and more bats seemed to fall from the trees above.

‘They must be shooting at me now,’ she thought, in her growing despair, ‘must try and get to the other side.’

Jason got the top of the dirt stairs and could see clearly down the river towards where he left Kirstie. With a shock, he saw someone out in the middle of the river.

“My god, Kirstie no,” he said, and began to sprint down the stairs.

As she started to sink below the surface, she looked up through the water to see the magnified spread of a giant bat's wings directly overhead, contrasting defiantly against the deep blue sky. There was a kind of peacefulness that seemed to be consuming her, a peacefulness that she now longed for. She wanted to get back to the surface, back to breathable air, but something else seemed to be dragging her deeper and deeper. Now her arm ceased to ache, even breathing in the brown water seemed soothing. The bat seemed to hover overhead. In the briefest of flashes, she actually thought she was looking down at the river from above. She even thought she caught a glimpse of her pale body below the surface, but then again above her through the cloudy water, she could see the bat.

She took another breath of the cold brown water and again immediately she was looking down at herself under the water. She seemed now to control two bodies, she could feel herself breathing in the river water and she could see down from the sky over the river. She looked to the side and saw Jason running down the track to the edge of the river.

‘My god he is still alive.’

She wanted to yell out to him, she wanted to go back to him, but it was too late. She felt her arms moving and she lifted her body away from the brown water, though the branches that overhung the river bank and she flew into the blue sky.

Jason got to the edge of the river where he last saw Kirstie, ripped off his jacket and shoes and dived in as a giant bat took flight from hovering just above the water where he had last seen her on the surface. The water was cold and for a moment he could not breathe. He didn’t look up he didn’t see the giant bat lift off and fly up through the branches, he just tried to open his eyes in the brown freezing water, tried desperately to catch sight of Kirstie.

He dived several times, grabbing wildly about him in the dark mud of the river bed but he could not find her. After more than ten dives he looked despairingly about him on the surface and then hit the water with his first yelling in exasperation.

“Why did you leave, I told you I would protect you.”

He swam back to the river bank, pulling himself clear of the freezing water using a low hanging branch and stood for a moment looking back at the river.

Eventually, he walked to his jacket, removed his wet shirt and put it on. Still shivering but finding some relief in its dryness and warmth, he put his hand into his pocket pulled out his phone and speed dial number two. The phone he was ringing quickly answered.

“I’ am going to need you to clean up a bit of a mess Nigel.”

He listened for a few seconds.

“I know, I know, look, I’m at a car park next to the Yarra River in Fairfield, Melbourne Australia. I’ve got two dead Ong in the car park and I think your Kirstie Martin has drowned in the river.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end.