Stone’s mind flashed back to his earlier altercation in the parking lot.
“I know what you mean, Ed. Even so, I still have bad dreams about that night.”
“Me too,” Carter said somberly. “Anyway, the thing is, this is different. When you get out of this car, we are deliberately going to initiate a chain of events that will probably end with some people dying. This is not something to be undertaken lightly, or without careful thought. If we do this together, you have to understand — and I mean fully understand, what this will mean for you.”
“I think I do Ed, these are bad people, they have to be stopped and we’re going to do it — it’s that simple.” Stone gave a nod to punctuate his point.
“Oh, I get that you’re committed to doing this, but before we begin I just want you to consider something else. If you choose to cross this line, to go over to the ‘Dark Side’ — you may think that it is OK, because you crossed the line for a good reason, and in a worthy cause. Nevertheless, there is a risk. Mentally and emotionally, there’s a risk that you may not be able to come back over that line at all. Every time that you cross to the dark side, the crossing becomes easier, and yet it becomes harder to return. Eventually, you will discover that you have left a little part of yourself behind in the darkness.”
Stone remained silent. After a moment Carter continued.
“We tell ourselves that it is OK — because we do this for a good reason — but for anyone with the slightest shred of humanity, something inside will have changed.”
Carter gripped Eric’s forearm so firmly it was almost painful.
“Eric, you are a good man with a kind heart, probably one of the most decent people I know, but you don’t have to do this. Charles said it would be ok to walk away. He gave you an out, a get-out-of-jail-free card. I’m truly sorry that he’s dead, but whatever we do, he won’t be coming back.”
Carter’s voice became more urgent as he approached the climax of his speech.
“Look at me, Eric. Right here, right now, it is time to decide. If we get out of this car and go after Darren Jeffers, then we will have started something that we will have to see through to the end. We will begin something, which will guarantee you have to cross that line again.”
Carter turned to face the front, and sat silently waiting for a response. Eric rubbed his forearm thoughtfully. After a full three minutes of silence, he spoke quietly but firmly.
“Thank you, Ed. It was good of you to think of me in that way, but this is something that I have to do — with, or without you. Now, tell me what you’ve learned about Darren Jeffers.”
“Right.” Carter drew the word out as if he were creating enough time to gather his thoughts. He pulled a notebook from his inside pocket and began to read his notes.
“Darren Jeffers — I spoke with Megan earlier, she gave me the lowdown. He’s twenty-six, lives alone in a rent subsidized apartment, and has no job. He's been claiming unemployment benefits almost continually since he left school at sixteen. He’s done some odd jobs for cash, cutting grass, cleaning windows and the like, but he has never held down a real job in his life. He has an equally spotty criminal record; possession of cannabis, handling stolen goods, minor assault, driving without insurance, and driving whilst disqualified. For all of that, he’s never served any jail time; just fines and community service.” The ex-cop finished with a typically ironic summary. “In short, he’s a pillar of the local community.”
“Seems like it,” Stone said with equal sarcasm.
“There was also good evidence that he has a gambling habit, but lacks the skill to do anything other than lose money that he hasn’t got. He’s had two recent visits to the hospital, both for the kind of injuries you would expect if you repeatedly missed repayments to a loan shark.”
“He sounds delightful.”
“Well, as you would expect, I have little sympathy for his type. While I was watching his apartment, Jeffers came out — so I took a chance and followed him. He drove to the village bar, drank three pints, met a guy in the parking lot who sold him some drugs, cannabis I think, then he bought French fries and fish and drove back to his apartment. Not a bad night out for a guy with no job, money, or car insurance.”
“And here we are with bottled water and convenience store sandwiches! What’s the plan then?” Stone asked.
“I suggest we drive over there and, if it looks like he is still alone, go in the front door and get in his face fast and hard. We’ll do that ‘Shock and Awe’ thing, just the way you taught me. Quickly get him on the ground and keep him subdued. Then we might have a chance to find out what he knows.”
“Good plan,” Stone said. “You’ll be the nice guy and I’ll do nasty — OK?”
“Agreed,” Carter said finally. “Leave your car here, we can go in mine. Let’s do this!”
Darren Jeffers lived at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. Carter parked his car facing back towards the road, just in case they needed to make a swift exit. It was an second floor apartment with one entrance door at the top of an external concrete staircase. As there was little chance of Jeffers jumping from a window, they went to the door together. They stood in silence for two full minutes listening for any sign of a conversation, but all they could hear was the sounds of a soccer match on the television. Carter pointed to the cheap cylinder lock, nodded to Stone, and then stood to one side.
Stone leaned backwards placing his hands on the concrete banister for additional leverage. He raised his right knee to chest height and drove his full weight forward, slamming the sole of his foot onto the door just alongside the keyhole. The lock shattered easily and the door burst open with a mighty bang. Stone allowed his momentum to carry him forward along the short corridor, closely followed by Ed Carter. Exactly as they had planned, Stone charged directly into the furthest room, while Carter hung back, checking the other rooms off the corridor. They both shouted repeatedly and loudly, ‘GET ON THE FLOOR! — GET ON THE FLOOR!’ A tactic designed to terrify an opponent into immediate submission.
Three seconds after he had kicked the front door, Stone burst into the sitting room that was at the end of the corridor. He found Darren Jeffers already half-crouching on the floor with his hands raised to cover his head, in anticipation of what may follow. Stone screamed, ‘DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!’ as he moved swiftly across the small room. He pushed Jeffers facedown onto the carpet and knelt with his full weight onto the middle of the terrified man’s spine. Finally, he yanked Jeffers’ arms roughly up behind his back and secured them with some heavy-duty electrical cable ties. A couple of seconds later Carter walked calmly into the room and reported that the remainder of the apartment was empty. From start to finish, the capture of Darren Jeffers had taken less than ten seconds.
Carter switched off the television, ripped the phone cable from the socket, sat down on the couch, and silently stared at the terrified man on the floor. After counting to ten in his head, Carter finally spoke.
“Darren Jeffers — you’re in a shit-load of trouble!”
“I’ll pay — I promise I’ll pay, you just need to give me a—”
Stone pulled Jeffers’ arms up behind his back until he squealed in pain and his feet kicked at the floor, then he hissed in his ear.
“SHUDDUP! You don’t speak unless I tell you. Nod if you understand.”
Jeffers nodded weakly, and after a moment, Stone released the pressure on his arms, but only slightly. Carter spoke again in a calm, clear, and overly polite voice.
“It is probably not a good idea to upset my friend here, he can be rather emotional. I don’t want your money, Darren; I want some information. Give me what I want and you can go back to watching your soccer match. Lie to me, and if you’re lucky, you’ll spend the next month in the hospital urinating into a bag. Do you understand?”