The Ghost

Chapter 20 - Revenge (i)

He was sat in his study alone when the phone rang out. After putting down his Scotch and grabbing the receiver, his face quickly shifted from hope to despair as he listened to Falconi.

"That's it! We know he and the girl survived! No fucking shit. It's plastered across the fucking internet. That little boy reported a man with half his face missing climbing out the Hudson! Maybe I should employ him instead of you! Tell me something Falconi, of use!" Jenkins was visibly shaking and his face said everything about where his blood pressure was at.

"Mr Jenkins. First of all, I'm going to take into account that you are a little stressed out by this unfortunate turn of events."

"Damned right!"

Falconi continued in a measured tone. "But please don't ever speak in that tone to me again. I'm not one of your little bitches who shits their pants when you shout like a maniac. Calm the fuck down before me and you really fall out."

Jenkins reached for his glass, drained the Balvenie that he had earlier been savouring, and threw the glass into the fire, sending shards across the polished mahogany wooded floor. "Ok. I'm sorry. But that man out there is a threat to my business and my reputation."

Falconi laughed down the phone. "Your reputation? I think your health supersedes that. We killed his family. He ain't going to the press to complain about unfair treatment in the workplace. He's gonna come at us and we need to be ready. This freak is a dead man walking."

Suddenly the phone went dead. "How dare you hang up on me?!" As Jenkins replaced the receiver the lights went out. "Security, get in here!" A brief pause, then he headed towards the door, the open fire his only source of light. Before turning the handle, he saw the black shiny liquid pour into the room under the door. Opening the door gently, he was aghast at the scene. His security detail were scattered across the corridor. It looked like the work of a wild creature. The man closest had his throat ripped out, and further away lay another with his right arm ripped clean from the socket. Jenkins crept towards the staircase, the emergency lighting along the lower walls adding further drama as his shadow cast against the blood-splattered walls. He reached down and grabbed the gun from the severed arm.

"Hey."

Jenkins whirled around and fired a shot at nothing. "I have money."

Again, a whisper behind him.

He spun around and again saw nothing. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"You!"

A dozen more bullets into the wall as Jenkins began to sob uncontrollably. "Please. Don't do this. I'm just an old man."

"And she was twenty-two years old! Her whole life ahead of her. With me. Our lives. You took them!"

Ghost made himself known to Jenkins. "This is all I have left now."

Jenkins looked at the figure in front of him. A wild beast didn't do this. He did. He stood at six-feet. The blue spandex outfit detailed every muscle in his body. Only his mouth was visible and the fury was evident. The rest of his head including his eyes was covered.

"You must pay for what you did! And I'm not talking money here." His voice was growing more powerful.

Jenkins squeezed the trigger and his assailant fell to the floor. "So you're our project then. Not very impressive now huh?"

He felt a powerful hand grab him round the throat. The trigger clicked.

"That'll be the sound of an empty magazine. Shame you put most of them into this wall behind me." Ghost smiled.

As he rose to his feet, he tightened his grip, lifting Jenkins a foot off the floor. Jenkins clawed pitifully at him begging through choked words. He ripped the mask off and his screams filled the house. The blazing, red eyes reflected his own. With little effort, Ghost threw the man down the corridor. Jenkins was disorientated and crawling on all-fours. He reached up for the handrail but fumbled forwards and down the stairs. Ghost waited. This was pleasing. He could hear the fear inside Jenkins. That old heart wouldn't last long though and he'd be damned if he took the easy way out. He descended the stairs at pace and was on him as soon as he sat up.

"I didn't even do this," he cried. "Falconi's the one you want."

"I know. Death will visit him also Mr Jenkins. Let's stop this dance now." He tensed every muscle in his body and let out a roar. "I am the Ghost. Your time is up!"

Jenkins lost all control of his bowels as Ghost's eyes glowed. He walked towards the prone figure and reached down, grabbing him again by the throat. As his anger consumed him and rage took over, he squeezed harder, and as Jenkins let out his final breath he ripped his throat out and smashed the body against the wall.

For you my darling Michelle. Always for you.

The sirens! Ghost heard them and knew they were only seconds away from arriving. He felt his torso. One of the bullets had hit. He winced. Looking around, he was surprised at the scene. Four further bodies littered the main entrance. It had all been a blur from the moment he cut the power. Now he had to leave.

"Ghost. Get in. Quick!"

It was Lexi. How did she know?

Ghost ran through the open double doors and jumped in the car.

"Before you ask, I fitted you with a tracker. And don't worry, I'm not going to ask. I know this is Jenkins' place." She smiled at him and hit the accelerator.