Ethan Justice: Origins

26: Monday 26th September, 12:40

WILSON BENT DOWN and forced John Smith's ankle against the wrought iron leg of the bench and snapped on cold metal cuffs.

"These will keep you here so we can have a nice chat when Savannah leaves."

John had the distinct feeling that he should have made his move before the cuffs came out, but what it might have been, he had no idea.

"So what's your plan?" John asked the smiling agent, who wriggled himself between him and Savannah.

Wilson's smile broadened as he regarded John. There was a look of peace in the man's eyes, like he was in a different place, seeing different things from the rest of the world. "Now you're chained, I suppose there's no harm in it. I plan to be with God. What more can a man hope to achieve?"

Savannah remained quiet at John's earlier request when Wilson had been talking to Fisher. But she could not hide the shock on her face. It was all she could do to stay on the bench. Hang in there, Savannah.

So, except for Savannah, they were all sentenced to death. A wave of self-preservation washed over John. If their last ditch plan didn't work, and it wasn't likely to, he was staring death right in the face. He had come so far and survived, it seemed unfair to end up dying chained to a bench.

"Can I ask why I have to die? What did I ever do to you?"

The agent nibbled his top lip. "You're no good for Savannah. She's better off without you."

"What if I promised not to see her again?"

Wilson laughed. He was certainly more cheerful since he'd lost his mind.

"Nice try, kid, but I don't think so."

"At least stop calling me kid. It's my last request. All condemned men get a last request, right?"

"Sure," Wilson said, grinning. The lunatic agent had become a regular Samaritan.

"What if I scream, by the way?" John asked. Every avenue seemed worth exploring.

"If you make one sound or gesture, I'll put a bullet in Savannah's head, and her blood will be on your hands."

So it was down to the last ditch plan again. "You touch one hair on her head and I swear I'll come after you."

A wry smile spread across Wilson's face. "We're about to be blown sky high. The only direction we're going is up, where I can be with my Julie and Kate just like the good old days."

John had observed enough of the rogue agent's behaviour around Savannah to doubt that his threats towards her carried much weight, but Wilson was deranged, and who could predict what he would do if the chips were down? John had risked Savannah's life enough in the last few days, and he would not try to save his own by jeopardising hers. He felt pretty good about that thought. It was a shame he would die before the new John Smith had a chance to show what he was made of. Agent Johnson was their only hope now, and for all they knew, Wilson may already have killed him. If Johnson was dead or working with Wilson then all was lost.

"Is Johnson with you in all of this?" John asked.

Wilson sniggered. "Johnson? That fool's stuck in traffic on the M25. If he's early, he'll be here in time to join us in the afterlife, otherwise he'll be scraping you off the buildings half a mile away once the dust dies down. I'm betting on the former."

The agent, who until this morning at Justice Investigations had seemed a decent sort, gave a thumbs up signal to Fisher who waited to the right of the inside of the station entrance. There he could presumably keep a lookout as well as pull the trigger on the gun that would obliterate anything in its locality.