The Kidnapping King

CLARA ESCAPES

DUBLIN, IRELAND - PRESENT DAY 

 The muscled, younger man accompanied Ardal Flanagan down the dimly-lit, rough-stone corridor until they came to a stop in front of a heavy steel door. Looking down at the gray-haired gentleman, the guard waited for a nod, before sliding a plastic card through the slot in the electronic keypad. A light on the device blinked a vibrant apple-green, and emitted a buzzing sound, followed by a "cla-thunk" from the door, indicating they could enter.

The recessed ceiling light auto-activated as the two entered the cell where Clara Mac Paidin laid on a sparse, metal cot, and she quickly bolted upright in response.

"Dear Lord," Ardal scowled, raising his arm to cover his nose and mouth, "Get that pail out of here! This room smells like a latrine." The guard strode to the corner where the potty-bucket was nearly over-flowing and quickly lifted it, moving past his employer and out into the hallway.

"Don't even think about it," Ardal dipped his chin at Clara, lifting a gnarled finger in her direction, "Ye didn't think I'd come here without a plan, now, did ye?" Dangling from his index finger was a large, amber pendant suspended from a sparkling golden chain.

Clara inhaled sharply and lifted her hand to her lips, "My pendant," she whispered.

"Yes, yer pendant. I'm quite certain ye had an intention for it's use. Would ye care to tell me about that, now that ye've had some time to ponder yer situation?" He scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips into a tight line.

Clara pushed wisps of pumpkin-colored hair away from her face and wiped the underside of her nose then looked up to meet his gaze. She stared at him for a long moment before answering.

"I intended to cooperate with you...to be your ally, you know?" Her blue eyes were cold as ice.

"So ye say," Ardal began, "but then, I have ta ask myself, why this pendant? Seems like yer intention was more of a trap than a help. I think," he paused, blinking just once, long and slow, "this whole act of yers has been nothing but a pageant ye orchestrated with that evil sister of yers," he finished and waited.

Clara pursed her lips and bowed her head but said nothing.

"Ye have nothing to say to that? Well, then, I'll go on. I also think ye haven't the cold, hard heart of yer older sister, Clara Mac Paidin. I remember when ye were a wee lass, ye were always joy-filled and loving. A light ta yer mum and dad, ye were."

At hearing these words, Clara shifted in her seat, and tipped her head to the side, wiping her eyes.

"And even though ye've conspired with yer sister to do some terrible, terrible things," he continued, "I also believe in second chances...and redemption."

"Redemption?" Clara's expression softened and she gazed at him, eyes wide.

"Yes, but redemption requires sacrifice," Ardal dropped the pendant into his wrinkled palm and closed his bony fingers around it, tightly. "Are ye willing to make some sacrifices to earn a second chance?"

"What kind of sacrifices? What must I do to get out of this hole? I just want my life back!" Clara's voice cracked and she covered her face with both hands.

"I think ye know the answer to that question, Missy. Ye must give up yer evil sister, Inez. She is the culprit behind the plot to murder yer family. And I'm not sayin' yer actions won't have legal repercussions. Ye must be accountable fer yer choices, " He paused, "But, I can offer ye hope. The rest is up to ye and how trust-worthy ye prove to be."

Clara stood and began pacing the room. "She'll hate me," she began, "and not just that, she terrifies me, Mister Flanagan. You know what she's capable of. She would be out for revenge." She stopped pacing and looked at Ardal, two finger tips rapidly tapping her lips.

"And ye are justified in yer fear of her. She is a horrific person. All I can do is promise ye protection from The Order of Light. But ye must give her up to us if ye have a rats chance of redeeming yerself."

Clara exhaled loudly then slowly walked back to the metal cot and flopped back down.

"What do you have in mind? Have you formulated a plan?" She looked at him, pulling her mouth to the side.

Ardal once again lifted the pendant in her direction. "We plan to use this."

"What do you mean?" Clara began, "That's of no use to you.

"All in good time. First, I have some questions. At the meeting you said Inez's plan is playing out as she intended. But ye refused to share any details about what that plan involves. I'm hopeful that, after time spent in these...quarters..." he gazed around the room, "ye may have reconsidered."

Clara inhaled deeply and flipped her head backward, tossing her wavy hair from side to side. Clearing her throat and pursing her lips, she replied "What, exactly, do you want to know?"

"Everything," he paused, "I want to know her exact location, where she's holding your nephews, and what she intends to do with them?" Then turning toward the door, he lifted a finger in the air, and exited briefly. When he returned, he was pulling a dark wooden chair behind him. Dragging it over, right in front of the cot where Clara was sitting, he took a seat. Leaning in, close to her face, he stared at her long and hard, "But more than that...I want to know why the two of you plotted to murder your little brother and his wife."