The Reaper (Eastward Prison)

Chapter 17

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

HANNAH

She ran the water and washed her mouth out. She was shaking.

She turned back, and Jack was taking the shirt off the man, taking off his helmet, boots, trousers.

He pulled off his pyjama T-shirt. He turned to look right at her, a piercing, fierce stare. She was embarrassed.

She turned away, looking down at her feet. She felt hot, she lurched to the tap and splashed water over her face, looking up and her reflection in the mirror above the sink. A panting, wild eyed woman that she hardly recognised panted back at her.

She turned back, and Jack was fully dressed in the MI5 outfit. The other man was stripped down to his boxers, and Jack was fully kitted out in his MI5 combat uniform.

She tried to vocalise how she felt, what she was thinking. “MI5 are here, they’ll catch Roper-”

“The MI5 agents that are here right now, they are the Bratva,” he said simply. He released her hand, and turned away from her. “This guy?” He looked down now at the unconscious man sprawled on the floor. “He isn’t MI5. This guy is one of the Bratva, these clothes didn’t really fit him properly, see? There was an MI5 unit, looks like the Bratva took them down and have come here… I’m trying to work out… what are they trying to do.” he said, mainly to himself.

“Jack, you said, the other day, you told me not to come…”

“I realised they were going to make a move then-”

“I was worried… you didn’t want me, that you had found out I was lying and he didn’t-” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

Jack looked at her for a moment longer. She felt like a pitiful, a teary, sicky, mess, gulping on her knees beside him.

The dots connected in her head. He’d probably remembered everything days ago, when she’d said new beginnings, he’d realised she wasn’t his girlfriend after those first few days. He’d not exposed her though, he’d not sent her away or challenged her. He’d played along. For his own protection, maybe yes, to some degree. But there had to be a part of him that had wanted to keep her around. Had wanted her, for her?

“You knew? You remembered and didn’t say…”

“I had a beautiful woman by my side who wanted to be with me… and I found I wanted to be with her, too. You were lying, yes, but your lie kept us all safe. I know the value of the truth, and the cost of a lie, I know sometimes a lie can save and the truth can kill. It was all just a game of pretend at first. One that I was all too happy to play along with. Until it stopped feeling like a game,” he finished wryly.

She licked her lip. “And, does it still feel like a game?” she asked.

Jack was crouched on the ground still, over the man’s unconscious, nearly naked body. He picked up the man, and shoved him into one of the lockers, without any form of dignity or ceremony, closing it from the outside.

He gave her a long, hard look. She didn’t breathe. He took a breath but at that moment, the radio crackled.

He reached for the walkie talkie. For a dizzying second she thought he might tell them she was hiding here, he might give her up, and run. Leave her.

“Anderson here,” he said into the radio.

“Go ahead.” The speaker crackled.

“There is movement on the 1st floor… one of the rooms… blonde hair, confirm status.”

There was a crackle on the radio.

“Hannah Wells. Jack Hunter. Shoot on Sight. Over.”

He looked at her then. “Copy that, over and out.”

They both sat on the floor, silent, thinking, panting.

She reached out her hand, tentatively, across the dusty tiled floor.

He looked at it, out of the corner of her eye for a second, not turning his head, not looking at her.

She held on a moment longer, her hand extended, reaching out for him.

And finally, finally, he reached back and took it.

“I remember it all, Hannah,” he said quietly. “I remember, the Reapers MC… we found out we had a mole. Someone was pretending to be a member but they were actually from the Bratva, a spy, sent to undermine us and mess with our plans, to report back to the Bratva. I was sent to kill them. I didn’t want to. I warned him instead, I helped him escape… Reapers MC didn’t like it. They came, they took me in a van, they beat me up, they left me outside the prison, it was meant to be a statement to the Bratva. They were the power in this area, the Bratva shouldn’t mess with them. They thought I was dead…”

Hannah listened as her world fell apart and reformed in front of her eyes. He was a good man. He had tried to warn an innocent person, he had taken the fall for it.

He cleared his throat, pulling himself back to the present. “We have to move Hannah, they are trying to find us and kill us.” He paused, thinking.

His steely eyes met hers. He could probably see she was reeling. She couldn’t adjust like he could. She wasn’t used to this type of life, despite working at Eastward, Hannah was still an innocent baby to all of this. She forced a breath into her lungs.

“Back with me, Hannah, think about the here and now. Don’t think of anything else. We have to get out of here alive, okay, that is the priority for now, everything else can wait, do you hear me?” He shook her slightly, his eyes boring into her.

She found herself nodding. Numbly nodding.

He opened the door of the room quietly, slowly, holding the handle in his hand. He peered out, up and down the corridor, then moved out. He scurried down the corridor. She paused for a second, left behind. Did he honestly expect her to let him go like that? She followed, crouching, like he had. She wasn’t about to let him get away.

“Why are they trying to kill us?”

“Cleaning up.”

The radio crackling. “Shoot on Sight.”

He paused by the nurse’s station. Looked about. He was moving like a Navy Seal. His clever eyes were roving up and down, thinking.

“Need to move,” he said simply. He looked at her again, battling with himself.

“Jack, let’s end this,” she said.

“We should just get out of here, escape… We have to move,” he ground out.

She realised she’d zoned out and turned her head to look him in the eye. “Jack, don’t run this time,” she said it quietly, but her tone was clear, this was more of an instruction than a request.

He took a deep breath in, closed his eyes and looked up to the ceiling. Jack nodded once.

She breathed with relief.

He stood up. “Now, do exactly what I tell you to do, okay, run when I say run.”

She nodded, she felt adrenaline pumping around her.

The radio crackled again.

“Anderson, status report. Over.”

“Shit,” he said. He paused, then put the radio to his lips. “False sighting, repeat, false sighting. Over.”

“Copy. Over.”

“They’ll send someone else to check, probably. How many MI5 agents did you see with Roper earlier?” he asked brusquely.

She thought. She couldn't remember exactly. “There was one truck, like one of those riot trucks, you know?” she stammered. He didn’t react. “There was Roper, a few men standing around, some ladies, too, Maybe… maybe four men and two ladies?”

“Okay, with the facility evacuated, they will have the run of the place, they’ll be sweeping it systematically, trying to find us. They clearly realise we aren’t accounted for… they’ll be wanting to be quick, they’ve got hundreds of potential witnesses stood about outside now...”

He paced now.

“They were counting on me being unconscious, because of the drugs Roper slipped me yesterday, they were going to come for me, probably suffocate me or arrange something that looked like a medical overdose or something...”

“What are the entrances like, to Eastward?” he asked.

She thought. “Well, there’s a front entrance, a guard station, a guard on the gate, like a barrier, 24/7.”

There was a noise. They both froze.

The lift pinged, the doors opened with a scraping sound. It was empty. Jack grabbed her by the top of her shoulders, grabbing a handful of her jumper, and pulled. They ended up ducked behind some filing cabinets. From the other end of the corridor, the stairwell door swung open. Two people entered, again, gun first, dressed in MI5 operational black uniforms. They crouched. Jack didn’t have a weapon, he’d left the gun behind. They stalked forward. He signalled to her to stay low. Then he darted across the corridor, pressing himself up against a doorframe. He beckoned to her to stay, his palm facing her, his eyes steely.

She stayed. The people edged closer. One turned, heading the other way down the corridor. It was the taller, bigger one, the man. He nodded to the other before going, the other was shorter, a woman. The woman crept closer, wearing the uniform, gun raised. She waited. She waited. Jack waited. They both hid, waiting for her to come past us. It felt like an eternity. She had relaxed her stance slightly, not expecting anyone to be there. Jack came out of the shadows as she was level with her. Like a flash, he winded her, banged her head. She doubled over. Crumpled down. He grabbed her shoulders, without a moment to lose, and dragged her backwards, into a hospital bedroom.

“Change clothes with her,” he said, dumping the woman’s leaden body on the floor.

She blanched.

“Change,” he repeated. She began shaking. She was wondering when shock would set in. It chose now. She stammered and shuddered. He swore and began to undress the woman. Unbuttoning her shirt, undoing her belt. He was rough, pulling at her like she wasn’t a woman, like she was a mannequin.

“Come on, take off your clothes,” he said.

Hannah did, fumbling.

“Hannah, quickly! Get this on!” He pulled the jumper over her head, pulled the helmet over her head now, flapping down the dark visor. She scrabbled about with the trousers. She started lacing her boots.

But Jack was moving the other woman’s body, dragging it into the bathroom, kicking Hannah’s normal clothes out of the way as he went.

“Stand,” he said brusquely. She stood. In the boots and helmet, she didn’t feel like she was in her own skin, she didn’t feel like herself. She shook.

“You are now a ruthless Bratva member, posing to be MI5, okay? So am I. Stay silent, let me talk.” he hissed.

She couldn’t get a grip though. He could see it, he could sense it.

“Come on Hannah, you’re strong, you’re brave. You can do this.” She heard his words but they just bounced off her.

And then he pulled her into his chest. His warmth radiated through the black uniform. His scent found her. His hands cupped her face, then put a hand over her head, holding her close to his chest.

“Hannah, one last time. We pretend, okay? And then after that, no more games of pretend, okay? One last time, and then, I’ll be me and you be you and we’ll create our own next chapter.”

She stammered, and shook in his arms. “Come on, you did a great job of this, you had me fooled and I’m a fucking professional at deception, Hannah.”

“I didn’t mean to… fool you…”

“No I know, you did it to survive. You did it because you are smart and tough, and you refused to be bullied by that fucker, and you refused to compromise on your principles. Let’s do it again, Hannah, but this time, I’m on your side, too. You knew I would be, hey? That’s why you picked me, that’s why you trusted me, I’m your way out of this, remember? But this time, I’m asking for one last time and you take me with you, okay?”

She’d controlled her breathing now. His words, his touch steadied her. She could do this, he was right. They could do this, one last time, together.