Christ Clone (34 page)

Malone let Logan's words sink in.

'I think you should go and get some rest; we'll take it from here.
I'm sure Travis and the rest of them will be picked up soon. I'll give you a call when I know more.'

Malone pulled up outside his house. It had been an amazing few days, and the pep talk from Logan had actually made him feel good about himself. He was looking forward to telling Daniel the result of their hard work, and he wanted to shower and call Taylor.

The house seemed unusually quiet. Even as he unlocked the front door, he began to get an uneasy feeling. He called to Daniel and got no response. He clenched his fists and moved from room to room, knowing he'd already given his presence away by calling. The house was empty and nothing seemed out of order, but he still had that bad feeling.

He relaxed a little and went to the kitchen to make a coffee. Almost immediately his unease turned to shock; on the kitchen bench was a note from Daniel.

Malone,
They've got Taylor. I've left their message on the machine.
I will call you later when I've got her back.
Daniel.

The light on the machine flashed two messages. He pushed the message button and listened.

Malone, we told you to stay away from our friends, but it seems you don't listen too good. To get your attention we've picked up a friend of yours, Taylor. Come and see us at
16758 Pacific View Road, Rancho Palos Verdes, and forget about bringing the police. We won't like it, and nor will your friend.

The message beeped as it ended, and the second message began. It was the message he'd left for Daniel. He pressed stop and leaned against the counter. Malone had to think. What was Daniel doing going after them? What could he achieve? He decided against calling Logan. This was something he had to do himself. He grabbed his keys and bolted to the rental car.

***

The Twin Towers, Tony and Terry, sat around the derelict shack pleased with their handiwork. Picking up the girl had been easy, the usual girlie struggles, nothing they couldn't handle. But the bonus of catching Malone's assistant was an outstanding day's work. Working the kid over was just a perk of the job; for some inexplicable reason they were both uncomfortable with hitting women, so Daniel's appearance allowed them to let off steam.

They joked to each other about Daniel's arrival; it was the worst rescue attempt they'd ever seen. How stupid did he think they were?

'This is Daniel, Malone's assistant. I am here with the police, and we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up.' Tony was mimicking Daniel.

'Okay, we're coming out,' Terry said in a high-pitched voice.

'Nice and slow now, where's the other one?' Tony continued.

'Behind you,' Terry said in a deep voice. They both laughed out loud. 'Did you see his face, man, he wet his pants!' Tony had tears running down his face as he recalled Daniel's expression of terror.

'Stupid bastard! You can see for miles in both directions from here, and as if the police would let a kid speak on their behalf.'

Their conversation changed to the subject of the house. It had been their parents' home years ago, and it was where they grew up. Being situated on the cliff top meant that the ocean views, on a fine day, were extraordinary. The unfortunate thing was that the land beneath the house was decaying, and the authorities had declared the residence unsafe. Before they died, their parents had tried so hard to stay there, with petitions and legal action, but their argument, like the ground beneath the house, had slowly eroded over time, and they had to live out their days in a small townhouse in the city.

The house held a lot of memories for the two men, memories from their early years that were warm and friendly, as well as the more unpleasant ones from recent years when the house had become their place of work. The location was remote enough that even the noisiest of clients wouldn't be heard, and there was enough vacant land around to bury any amount of trash.

***

In the car, Malone's mind was racing. He'd met the Twins before so he knew what they were capable of. His dilemma had two heads: what was he going to do to get Taylor away from them, and where was
Daniel? A plan of action just wouldn't come to him. Reasoning with cavemen was out of the question, and as far as straightout fighting them went . . . He had no difficulty in dismissing this as an option.

The road to Rancho Palos Verdes was busy. Malone had joined the tail end of the commuter traffic, and his lack of progress was frustrating him. How could people do this every day? The traffic eased once he passed the small town and headed for the coast. Driving along the cliff-top road, he checked the map again to confirm he was on track.
Satisfied, he slowed to search for numbers. 16758 Pacific View Road was nestled on the edge of an eroding cliff top. The house looked as though it had been uninhabited for decades due to its precarious position.
There were signs on the wire fence circling the place declaring it unsafe and declaring that trespassers would be prosecuted.

As his car slowly drew to a halt, the tyres crunched the sand and shingle beneath them, sounding like a mouthful of tortilla chips being slowly eaten. He pulled up next to two cars. One of them he recognized as Daniel's; the truck, he assumed, belonged to the Twins. Switching off his engine, Malone reluctantly acknowledged that Daniel's rescue attempt hadn't gone well. He looked towards the wooden house before getting out of his car; the windows were boarded up, and the slate roof had a chessboard design due to missing tiles. The garden was overgrown with dry grass and weeds; a mass of beige and brown filled his view. With a sinister creak, the door to the house was tugged open and one of the Twins filled the entrance. He pointed to Malone and, curling his index finger, beckoned him in. Malone took a deep breath and got out of the car; the salty ocean air refreshed his senses, but he still had no plan.

Malone slowly walked to the door, his fear overridden by adrenaline.
The Twin patted him down, checking for a weapon. Once satisfied he was clean, he moved aside and let Malone enter the house. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the room's murky light, but almost immediately after they'd focused, Malone spotted Daniel.
He looked awful; it looked to him like they'd really worked the kid over. His arms were tied behind his back and he was slumped on a chair. His head had flopped back as though there was something to see on the ceiling. Seeing anything however, would be a problem as his eyes were swollen shut. His nose had been beaten across his face, and the blood had crusted into a dark red goatee around his mouth.
Malone struggled to get to him, but one of the Twins held him back.

'Calm down, he's just unconscious,' the other Twin said, proud of his work.

'What the fuck have you done to him? Where the fuck is Taylor?'
Malone barked, trying to sound tough, but the wobble in his voice told the real story; he was petrified.

'Sit down, Malone. We have a lot to get through.'

He was directed to a chair with its back to the ocean view. With his adrenaline level dropping, he suddenly felt very tired; he turned and flopped onto the chair, which creaked as he sat down.

The Twins stood either side of Malone, both careful to keep their privates out of his reach.

'Where is Taylor? What have you done with her?' Malone asked again. This time his voice was quiet, almost timid.

'All in good time . . . First things first, tell us what you know about . . .'

'I'm not telling you anything until I know where Taylor is.' Malone had no idea what he'd be able to do when he knew where she was. All he could think of was one small step at a time.

'I don't think you know how much trouble you're in, Mr Malone.
We told you a long time ago to mind your own business, but it seems you're not so good at taking advice. So we're giving you an opportunity to redeem yourself, and to take some of that advice. Tell us what we need to know, and we can all go home.'

'Where is Taylor? I want to be sure she's okay.'

'You're like a fucking broken record,' one of the men yelled, grabbing
Malone's face with his fist drawn back.

'You can hit me all you want, but I'm not telling you jack until
I know that Taylor is fine,' Malone yelled back, wincing, preparing himself to be hit.

'You wanna know where she is? We'll show you where she is.' The
Twin yanked Malone's head towards a wall on his left and nodded to his brother. With that, his brother pulled back a sliding wall to reveal the deck outside. There, suspended from a rope, was Taylor.

Her arms were tied above her hooded head, and there was no floor beneath her.

Malone jumped up and ran towards her, but the Twins grabbed him. It had to be at least two hundred feet down to the waves hitting the rock-face below.

'Let her go!' he yelled.

Pulling a knife from his pocket, one of the Twins leaned out and put the blade on the rope. 'Gladly,' he smirked.

'No!' Malone screamed.

He turned the knife towards Malone. 'Now cut the shit. Are you ready to talk?' he snarled.

'Okay, okay. I'll tell you what you want — just, just leave her out of this, leave them both out of it.'

'Let's just say she's our guarantee you'll tell us the truth,' the Twin said as he pulled the wall back.

Malone was out of ideas. 'What do you want to know?' he asked as he dropped back on the chair.

'Now that we have your undivided attention, we have someone who wants to talk to you.' The other Twin was dialling the number as his brother spoke. 'Yeah, we've got him here. Sure, I'll put him on now,' he said, switching the cellphone to speakerphone and holding it close to Malone.

'Hello, Mr Malone, how the devil are you? I trust my business associates are treating you well?'

Malone could almost see Travis' smarmy face on the other end of the phone.

'You seem to have caused us a bit of trouble with your continued meddling. Now, unless you answer the following question correctly, people you seem to hold very near and dear are going to get hurt.
Exactly what have you told the police about the unveiling?'

Malone gathered his thoughts for a moment. 'Let's just say you're on borrowed time, Travis.'

Tony slapped Malone's head. 'Answer the man's question.'

'The cops know everything, you moron. Don't you get the news where you are? They've hit your lab and your egghead friends' places.
Don't you get it? You're over, you're finished.'

'That's lovely Malone, but you're still not answering my question.
Now, one last time, what exactly have you told the police about the unveiling?'

Malone couldn't understand what Travis was getting at but decided to try and bluff his way out. 'Listen Travis, I know what you're getting at. You want to know if there's a way for you to get out of this without getting caught. You want me to tell you exactly what I've told the police, the where and when. Then you can miraculously avoid capture and disappear to some far-off land. Fuck, for all I care, you can go to some plastic surgeon and become Mrs Travis. But first, I've said all that I'm going to say to you until you release Daniel and Taylor. It's me that you want, Travis, let the others go, or you can spend the rest of your days in an Israeli jail being some bearded man's bitch.' Malone's confidence had returned and he felt sure Travis would buy the bluff.

'Ah Mr Malone, with a speech like that I'm sure you were a great preacher in your day. Unfortunately, you have now told me what I need to know and, alas, I'm afraid it's not good news for you or your friends. I hope you're up to date with your prayers, as you're about to meet the man who hears them.'

Tony, Terry, could you please dispose of my three guests? Goodbye and good luck, Mr Malone.'

The phone disconnected, leaving Malone dumbfounded. The Twins looked at each other and shrugged. As Terry pulled out his knife and took a step towards Malone, the front door burst open.

'LAPD, hold it right there, put your hands up where we can see them.' Malone recognized Logan's voice. Officers came in from all sides of the house, moving in slowly with guns drawn. As Logan moved into the house, Malone saw that behind him in the doorway stood Dale Galbraith.

'Why is my name now Stefan Calver, and why have you two changed your names?' These were the first of many questions from Ansgar on the journey to Switzerland, a journey that was rapidly turning into something like a school field trip. The clone was constantly asking questions about things that interested him along the way, and before long it seemed to Klaus Zudermeister that
everything
was of interest to the young man. PSI's chairman was no help either.

'Your job is to handle the clone, and my job is to handle the business,' he kept saying. Sure, it was Ansgar's first time out of the sanctuary of the lab, but did he really have to know how and why every single thing worked?

What is that place? How fast does this train go? How long will the trip take? How far is Switzerland from here? The questions went on and on. With every answer came another question — it was exhausting.

R
USSIA

The journey was easier for Dr Poskov and the colonel. Aloysha had been outside the facility previously, so he had already gained a brief perspective on the real world. Still, their train journey wasn't without its own harrowing moments — in particular, passport control.
The forged passports the colonel had acquired were exceptional work, and as they were handed over to the customs officer the colonel had the utmost confidence in them. Confidence, however, that Dr Poskov seemed to lack. His fidgeting and nervousness drew undue attention to the three of them, and resulted in the guard rechecking their credentials; in turn, the colonel was questioning his choice of Poskov as a travel partner. On the plus side, it did prove that the passports would stand up to the most stringent scrutiny.

S
WITZERLAND

Once they reached the hotel, the German team checked to see if the
Russians had arrived; the desk clerk confirmed they had, in fact, checked in a few hours earlier. They made their way to the suite and while Klaus unpacked and Stefan went around the room opening cupboards and asking questions, the PSI chairman called the Russian team. They arranged to meet in the hotel restaurant in twenty minutes, giving them all a chance to freshen up.

Neither team knew what to expect when they arrived at the restaurant. The principal focus on both sides was what the other clone would look like. The fortunate — or was it unfortunate? — fact was the clones looked different. Both had slightly olive skin, but that was where the similarities ended. However, as the two clones looked at each other a hint of recognition flashed between them.

The PSI chairman was the first to offer his hand, and the colonel shook it, although he found it difficult to drag his eyes away from the
German clone. 'Congratulations, quite an achievement,' he said.

'The same goes for you,' the chairman responded.

Dr Poskov and Klaus shook hands as well, and they all took seats with the clones opposite each other at the ends of the table.

'I assume you've heard the news,' the colonel began.

'Seems that we're all in a whole heap of trouble,' the chairman replied, nodding.

News of the police storming their labs had been relayed to both of them.

'I guess we were both expecting something like this to happen, otherwise why would we be here?' Once again the chairman nodded.

'The thing is, what do we do now?' Dr Poskov interrupted.

'Well, one thing's for sure, we can't go back!' Klaus added.

Both the clones were silent, staring at each other.

'What it boils down to now is, who do you trust?' the chairman said.

'What do you mean?' asked the colonel.

'Well, we all agree we can't go back. So it boils down to whether or not we can trust the Americans — Travis, Wainright, and Galbraith
— to do what they say they're going to do and protect us, or should we go into exile independently.'

'If we focus on going forward, I think you can cross Galbraith off the list. He hasn't answered his phone since the conference call; I think he's already off protecting himself. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one who leaked this to the police.'

'A fair assumption. So, can we trust Travis and Wainright?'

'From the start, my sources have said that Travis is a fair businessman, and for whatever reason, he genuinely wants this to happen.
Wainright on the other hand is a wildcard; I don't know whether he's a straight shooter or not. My gut feeling is not!'

'I'm inclined to agree with you. I don't believe Galbraith's story about his being involved from the outset. If I'm right, we need to be careful how we proceed.'

The conversation was moving too fast, and was far too complicated, for either of the clones to follow. Stefan was keen to ask questions about the meal he was eating, but since his counterpart remained silent he felt he should too.

'There's also the twenty-five million dollars to consider. Even if
Travis and Wainright decide not to take care of us, twenty-five million goes a long way if a person wants to hide. Of course we don't know which of us has the real deal, and to be honest, I have no idea how
Travis would know either, but that's his issue. What I do know is that
Travis wants to sight these two men, and I'm sure we can both provide adequate proof of their authenticity.' He paused for a moment. 'I think we should make a pact here and now to take care of each other.
Twenty-five million dollars, split equally four ways, could provide a new life for all of us.'

The other men at the table considered the chairman's proposal.
One by one, they began to nod. A Russian–European alliance seemed the best way to proceed.

'We should contact Travis and play hardball. If he wants to see these two men, he's going to have to pay for the privilege, and it would confirm his intentions. I already have an account set up here in Switzerland; a cash deposit from Travis as a gesture of good faith would, I believe, be more than fair.'

While they finished their meals, the four men, under the direction of the colonel and the chairman, set out their terms and conditions.
The chairman agreed his account should have additional signatories, and they also agreed to meet in the colonel's suite to place a conference call to Travis.

Once inside the suite, the men naturally formed three small groups.
The colonel and the chairman were quick to discuss the plan of action for their call to Travis; Klaus and Dr Poskov wanted to discuss their observations regarding their clones; and the clones finally had a chance to talk.

They approached each other timidly.

'Hi,' Aloysha began.

'Hi,' Stefan quietly replied.

The clones looked at their guardians in conversation with each other.

'Do you ever get the feeling you're being used?' Aloysha asked.

'Sure do. But do you have any idea why?'

Aloysha shook his head.

'It's one big secret after another. The conversation around the table earlier was the first time I've actually felt like part of a group rather than focused on like a lab specimen. We're different to them. It's like we're aliens,' Stefan continued.

Aloysha nodded. 'I saw a documentary on that subject once, and I wondered then if I was an alien. But my friend Viktor told me I wasn't an alien, just someone very special . . .' Aloysha's mind wandered as he thought about Viktor.

'We are definitely special. They want to know everything about me.
Up until now, I've been constantly attached to machines and monitors.
My blood, my pulse, my heart . . . You name it and it's been tested a thousand times.'

'Me too. But it's my mind that they're really interested in. What do
I think about this? What do I think about that? It goes on and on. Oh, and my dreams, they really want to know about my dreams.'

'Mine too. I always have to tell them about my dreams. What are yours like?'

'My dreams are almost always about a place I've never been. It's a really hot place, and up until recently it's been a happy place. What about yours?'

'That's so weird. Mine are like yours!'

They both went quiet as they thought about their dreams and how strange it was that they were similar.

'But I also have dreams that I don't tell them about, scary dreams,'
Aloysha whispered.

'Me too. What are yours like?' Stefan asked.

'You two seem to be getting along!' Klaus said walking over to them both.

'I'll tell you later.' Aloysha said quickly and turned his attention to the doctors.

D
ALLAS
, T
EXAS

Travis saw that the caller ID on his cellphone screen was an overseas number and he picked up the phone straight away. The chairman warned him he was on speakerphone. He introduced the others and told Travis they were all safe but confused.

'Good evening, gentlemen. First, I want to tell you how sorry I am about what has happened. It seems we had an informer in our midst, but I'm happy to say that has now been dealt with.'

'Is that why we can't get through to Mr Galbraith?' the colonel asked.

'Dale? No it wasn't him. I can only assume Dale has gone into hiding like the rest of us. I'm sure he'll turn up in due course. Now, the good news is the police are looking for us all in Israel. It looks like our informer wasn't as smart as she thought. So gentlemen, you may relax.'

A huge sigh of relief came from the men.

'What's the bad news?' Klaus asked.

'There isn't any real bad news. As far as I'm concerned, the event is still on. I've heard from Wainright; he's fine and has taken care of most of the arrangements. We're on track to be in Jerusalem by Monday morning so, as I say, as far as I'm concerned it's business as usual.'

'I'm sorry Mr Travis, but it's not quite that simple as far as we're concerned. Your so-called informer has spooked us all; we're concerned you will be unable to fulfil your promise of a safe haven once we've presented our successes. To be frank with you, Mr Travis, we need something to restore our faith and confidence.'

Travis went quiet for a moment while he thought.

'Mr Travis, are you there.'

'Yes, I'm here. I was just mulling over your comments. What exactly did you have in mind?'

The chairman and the colonel looked at each other, satisfied they had Travis hooked. 'To ensure our attendance on Monday, we want your word that we will be given safe passage to a country without extradition treaties, and to be supported there more than adequately.'

'I've already told you that would happen.'

The chairman ignored him. 'Second, as a sign of good faith, we would like a million US dollars put into each of our accounts, as a kind of fail-safe.'

'Four million dollars! You want me to pay you four million dollars?'
Travis fumed.

'It's actually only one million dollars each, Mr Travis,' the colonel interrupted.

Travis fell silent again while he considered their terms.

***

Travis was able to relax at last, secure in the knowledge Malone and
Taylor were dead, or about to be, and the police were looking for the challenge participants in Israel. He felt slightly uncomfortable about the demise of Taylor and Malone, but they'd been trying to stop his project, and that he could never allow. It had been a busy few hours, what with finding a vacant room for the night, appeasing the Europeans, and tracking down Wainright. He looked around the sparse but acceptable hotel room, thankful for the comfort it would offer for the night.

In fact, it had been a long few days, what with the state-hopping flights and twelve hours on the Greyhound to Dallas, he was looking forward to a good night's sleep. With Dr Androna out looking for transport and Probandi showering, Travis decided it would be a good time to open a bottle of wine. Probandi finished in the bathroom and joined Travis at the table. Travis smiled and patted his arm.

'I promise you will soon be enjoying the luxury to which you're accustomed, my friend.' Travis filled both their glasses with wine and proposed a toast. 'Here's to a happy and fulfilling Easter.'