Above Board

Chapter 15

"Let the others go."
Brian tried to speak calmly, though his mind was racing. They were outnumbered, at least three to twelve.
General Ripley crouched on the roof of the subway train, clicking his teeth.
"Now why would I do that? Do elaborate, Brian."
"If it's me you're after, fine, I'll come quietly. But let my wife and children go. Please."
"I'm afraid I can't, Brian." Ripley replied, turning each paper in the folder carefully. "Your wife's disappearing act has worked until now, hasn't it? I don't know how she obtained these documents, but I'm going to make sure not another person lays eyes on them."
Ripley leapt off the train, landing on his boots. He walked over to a discarded paper bin and took out a lighter.
"NO!" screamed Sara, racing to stop him, but two soldiers held her back.
"It's for everyone's good," Ripley torched the folder, discarding the burning fragments in the bin.
"Noooo..." Sara whimpered, sinking to her knees in despair. Brian bent down to pick her up, but a soldier poked his chest with the barrel of his rifle.
"How did you find us?" asked Brian. 
"I had a tracking device installed at the bottom of your jeep. The most common trick in the book and you fell for it hook, line and sinker."
"What do you want, Ripley?" Will spoke up.
"Well, for starters, I want my specimen returned right here, right now, unharmed."
"Joey's not a specimen, he's my son!" roared Brian. "You can't just claim him like he's some sort of object!"
"I think you'll find I can," Ripley replied coolly. "You owe me a debt, and I don't see how you can stop me. Here we are, back to where it all began. For your wife and sons, anyway."
"What do you mean?" Brian frowned. "I've never met you before."
"Don't you remember, Brian? All those years ago when you were a frightened little boy hiding under the bed?"
"How could you possible know that?" The truth dawned on Brian's face.
"Brian? Brian, what is it?" Sara looked up at him.
"The World Is Cruel, Trust No-One."
Brian met Ripley's gaze. "You were there that night, weren't you? When my parents were killed. You're a Bandit!"
Sara and Will gasped, their jaws sagging.

"General Ripley, sir." A soldier standing atop the barrier turned his gun to the opening.
"What is it, Mackenzie?"
"Movement, sir. Straggler or Bandit, it's hard to tell."
"What range?"
"Not far; I can see two of them, down the other end. What're your orders?"
"Go see what it is, of course." said Ripley.
"But sir, it could be anything," another soldier pointed out as the first began clambering over the top. "You'd be sending the lad to his death."
"Then we'll know he was right," Ripley fixed the soldier with a steel gaze. "Would you like to join him, Thomson?"
Suddenly there came a blood-curdling scream and the sound of flesh being ripped.
"Straggler attack!" bellowed Ripley. "Open fire!"
Brian, Will and Sara ducked as bullets ricocheted over their heads, leaning against the assortments for protection. Ripley gripped Sara's arm and cocked his pistol, peering through openings in the barrier.
"How many?" he called, as his men reloaded their weapons.
"Just two, sir," came the reply.
"Any casualties?"
"One fatality, sir."
"Right, I want three of you on sentry duty. Inform me if anything else disturbs us before I say it's safe."
"Why are they even called Stragglers, Ripley?" Sara wondered, as Ripley checked how many bullets were in his gun.
"Let me clarify something first." General Ripley ignored Sara. "I was a Bandit, a long time ago. I was seventeen. But after I saw what happened to your parents, Brian, I had a change of heart. My orders were to kill you as well, but I couldn't go through with it. I let you go instead. I defected from the Bandits, trained in the armed forces instead. I set up the Liberation Army to combat the Bandits and make this country safer."
"And that makes what you've done since then alright, does it?" Brian felt nothing but bitterness towards the general. "People have suffered because of you!"
"Well, as I said before, it's all above board," Ripley replied. "There were so many Bandits running riot by the time my army was set up, I had to find a way of creating my own taskforce. I don't force them to be our test subjects. They're called Stragglers because they're the groups that move more slowly than others in society; no job, no, hope, no future. Those wretched souls come of their own free will, they know what the experiments entail."
"Apart from when they end up becoming psychopathic cannibalistic killing machines, I guess." Will muttered.
A soldier overheard and punched Will in the face.
"Leave it, Crawford," Ripley ordered as the soldier raised his fist again. "The boy's right. I authorised those experimental blood trials. I was warned of the risk, but we were in a desperate situation at the time."
"You may have destroyed that folder, Ripley," said Sara, as she examined the bruising on Will's left eye, "but the Secret Service knows what you've been doing. Exploiting and deceiving vulnerable subjects is illegal, and you will go down for this."
Ripley sighed and rolled his eyes. "Empty threats, as usual. You have no proof whatsoever."

The McCormicks settled against each other as the soldiers kept watch. "How're we going to get out of this?" whispered Will.
"Don't worry, I will think of something," Brian vowed.
"They're going to kill us, aren't they?"
"No, don't say that, son," said Brian. "As long as Joey and Nikki are safe, that's what's important."
"But Dad, if those Stragglers come back, what if we're not there to protect them? What'll happen to Joey and Nikki then?"
"It'll be fine," said Sara. "My unit have their instructions; if they don't hear from me within half an hour, they'll assume I've been unsuccessful in my mission and send out a squad."
"Wow, Mum, you sound like a proper spy! Do they give you all the cool gadgets like you see in the films?"
"Not quite, son, but they trusted me with that folder and I've failed them." Sara's face crumpled and Brian held her close.
"It's alright, hen, it's alright," he murmured as she sobbed on his shoulder. "We're together now, that's all that matters."
"Not for much longer," said Ripley, pointing his gun through an opening.
From further down the tunnel, the McCormicks could hear motorbikes revving, tyres squealing and young voices hooting.
"Is it...?" whispered Will.
"Bandits!" Brian kept his voice low, peeping at a gap.

A whole gang of them, twelve or thirteen at least. Tall, big, muscular, they bore the distinctive features of individuals that meant business.
They rode on six large motorbikes, two to a bike. They were dressed in commando clothing, their bodies painted with blue markings. Brian stayed low, watching as the leader dismounted and met with the general.
"Fancy seeing you here, Ripley." Brian was shocked at how young the leader looked; he couldn't have been more than eighteen, nineteen. "Did you get it?"
"Oh I got it alright," Ripley smiled. "It's been taken care of, as we agreed."
"Well, I suppose this means our business has reached its own conclusion." The leader turned and began to walk away.
"Wait a minute!" The general caught the Bandit leader by the shoulder. "What about the reward you promised me?"
"Oh yes." The leader gave Ripley an evil grin. "I almost forgot. I'm sorry about this, Claudius, but I can't risk our secrets being exposed."
Without warning, the leader whipped a pistol from his pocket and put a bullet in the general's head.

Everything else happened in slow-motion. Ripley fell backwards, his arms spread out like wings. He lay at the leader's feet, the surprise still in his eyes.
Claudius Ripley was dead.

"Go! Go!"
Brian seized the chance and made a run for it. Keeping his wife and eldest son close, Brian leapt above the barrier as the soldiers looked on, too stunned to do anything.
"Where do you think you're going?" The young leader blocked the McCormicks' path.
"Get out of my way, lad, we don't want any trouble." said Brian.
"Well tough, because you're in enough trouble as it is," the leader pointed out, nodding his head to someone.
Large beefy hands grabbed the McCormicks. Brian, Will and Sara struggled against the strong grip.
"I didn't want to do this, but I've no choice. You and your family know too much. For all I know, you could be Ripley's accomplices." The leader pulled a blade from a bag. It shone against the light, the tip like a shark tooth.
"Now, son, let's not do anything drastic." Brian kept his eyes on the knife. "Let us go, and we'll say nothing of it."
Sirens echoed faintly off the tunnel walls. The leader jerked his head at the sound.

Will used the distraction to elbow his captor in the gut, who doubled over coughing.
"Will, no!" shouted Brian, but Will ignored him.
He ran at the leader, who was taken completely by surprise and stuck the blade out in defence.
There was a squelch. Will gasped. He staggered backwards. He turned to his parents, clutching at his chest.

A dark stain was spreading across his shirt. Will looked at one of his hands.
It was covered in blood.