Enter the DarknessChapter 8 Of Good byes and Homecomings
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Return From The Dark SideChapter 4: Coming Home free porn video
Henry Ruiz-Costa slowly walked up the stairs to enter the building he had not seen in over ten years. Things had changed he thought. A uniformed porter was sitting behind bulletproof glass and there was a walk-through metal detector for visitors.
"I'd like to speak to Lord Lambert," he told the porter. "I'm an old friend of his. The name's Henry Ruiz-Costa."
The porter was polite. "Would you please take a seat, Sir? I shall check with His Lordship's secretary."
Inwardly, the porter chuckled. 'Like His Lordship would receive blokes who showed up without appointments wearing khaki Dockers and polo shirts!' he thought.
He was in for a surprise. A few minutes after he had delivered his message to Lord Lambert's secretary, Mrs. Woolton entered the lobby in person coming from the private elevator in the back. The porter answered her silent question with a jerk of his head, and she looked at the youngish man who sat relaxed in one of the comfortable chairs.
"Mr. Ruiz-Costa?" she asked, and Henry stood politely and nodded. "Can you show me some ID please, Sir?"
Silently, Henry produced a British passport and Mrs. Woolton studied it at length. Then she pulled a cell phone from her jacket and pressed a speed dial button.
"Yes, it is Mr. Ruiz-Costa, milord. I saw his passport. Yes. Of course. I shall see to it."
She ended the call and spoke to Henry again.
"I am most sorry for the lack of welcome, Mr. Ruiz-Costa. His Lordship is not in at the moment, but he should be back within the hour. Would it trouble you to wait for him in my office, Sir?"
"I'm not sure I should intrude on you or on Andrew," Henry answered, but Mrs. Woolton would have nothing of that.
"I have express orders not to let you go, Mr. Ruiz-Costa," she smiled. "You would not want me to lose my job, would you?"
"In that case, I'll be more than happy to help you," Henry smiled back.
"Thank you, Sir! If you will follow me?"
She led him to an elevator separate from the others in the lobby and opened it with a key card. The elevator transported them to the top floor of the fifteen story building, and they exited into a plush reception room where three secretaries where busy. Henry was shown into a comfortable waiting room, and soon a lesser secretary offered him coffee or tea. He leaned back comfortably on the upholstered chair taking in the ambience.
If things had been different fourteen years ago, he would be working here, like his father had. But they had not been. Fourteen years ago! A lifetime. He could still remember the events; he could still feel the hurt, the physical pain and the mental agony.
How could she hate him so much? All his life, up to these fateful days, she had been his friend. They were destined for each other, or so he thought. The first sign something was wrong was when he asked her to accompany him to the school ball. He had driven over to the Carters' house, High Matcham, to hang out with his friend Andrew, and when Ellen joined them, he had asked her. She refused. He asked her again. She refused again claiming that she was already committed to accompany a classmate, Theodore Winthorp. That had made it even worse for Henry since he and Winthorp hated each other with a passion.
Henry was crushed. Why "his" Ellen would even think of going to the ball with his worst enemy was beyond his comprehension. Andrew was also puzzled for he knew how much Ellen liked Henry. But even his intervention did not avail anything. Out of spite, Henry asked Solange Fournier to the dance. She accepted, glad for the opportunity to go with the popular student.
It was a cheap shot to be sure since Solange was the thorn in Ellen's side. Black haired and chocolate-skinned, with an ambassador for a father, she did not give a damn what the other girls thought of her. She enjoyed her life, and she enjoyed the attention of the young men.
Thinking of Ellen as his girl friend, Henry had never dallied with Solange which fact piqued the girl's curiosity. They danced up a storm at the ball and Henry truly enjoyed himself. He also enjoyed the glares Ellen sent him all evening. When Ellen retaliated, however, by starting a furious kissing with Ted Winthorp right in front of everybody, Henry felt his insides grow cold. Claiming sickness, he excused himself and left. Solange went with him and he drove her home, apologising to her for his rotten mood. She took it lightly and even gave him a friendly kiss when they parted in front of her father's residence.
For the next three days, Henry stewed in his sour mood until, quite out of the blue, he received a phone call from Ellen asking him to meet him at a disused barn between the Carters' and the Ruiz-Costas' lands. Growing up as neighbours, they had often been there, and Ellen's suggestion of a meeting there brightened Henry's a bit. She sounded friendly enough over the phone and Henry rushed out of the house, not bothering to tell anybody where he went.
Ellen was not waiting in front of the old barn when he arrived and Henry entered through the rotting door. There stood Ellen, with her face mask-like.
"Did you enjoy your slut?" she asked with venom, but before Henry could answer, he received a terrible blow to the kidneys from behind. He sank to his knees, unable to breathe or to cry. Through the red haze of agony, he saw Ted Winthorp and two of his friends standing around him. Then the massacre began.
Ted Winthorp could be a jovial young man, outgoing and funny, but when he crossed a certain threshold, his rage was uncontrollable. It was one of his companions, John Michaels, who finally became afraid and tore Winthorp away from the mangled body. Henry was unconscious by then. His last memory of that day was the mask-like face of Ellen Carter, looking down at him without pity.
It was also the only thing he could really remember when he awoke twelve days later in the intensive care unit of the hospital in Reading. He had been missing for over a day before a K-9 search team found him in the old barn. For a few days there had been doubts of his survival. A cracked scull, broken ribs and punctured lungs, a shattered collarbone, and a broken jaw had to be fixed. That took almost sixteen hours of surgery, before the minor cuts and bruises could be taken care of. For a while it was feared that he would lose his badly traumatised testicles, a fear that did not materialise fortunately, but it was seven months before he was released from his final rehab treatment.
Of course, the police investigated, but Henry claimed amnesia, not wanting to relive the events at a court hearing. Besides, there was nothing to corroborate his words, and Winthorp and his goons would certainly not confess. Andrew visited him almost daily, relaying his parents' good wishes. However, not a single word from Ellen ever reached him, and Andrew was close-mouthed about his sister.
When Henry had recuperated completely, he left his father's home and joined the Royal Marines. While in hospital, he had been graduated from school, and after basic training, he was sent to officer's school. His body healed, but his mind in a turmoil, he focused his energies on the training and schooling, and he graduated with top scores. He had not told them of the twelve days' coma, and his EEG did not show anything out of the norm, so he was given a clean medical record. He had a free choice of the branch he wanted to pursue, and he surprised everybody when he opted for training in the SBS, the Special Boat Service, the British equivalent to the Navy Seals.
The next three years were spent in the gruelling training and practice, canoeing for untold miles in folding kayaks, performing parachute drops from almost every altitude, and diving. Always diving.
Then assignments. Deploying listening devices in Tripoli, searching the hulls of incoming ships, blowing up the boats of refugee traffickers on their return trips, and worst of all, snooping around the Russian Naval bases. There was so much nuclear contamination from the rotting subs! When his enlistment ended after eight years, he retired from the service with the rank of captain.
It was then that he was recruited by a private hostage recovery team operating out of Costa Rica. He was perfect with his training and his outward appearance. The Ruiz-Costas were of Spanish lineage, and in Henry the ancestry showed strongly. He was dark haired and complexioned and if he wore sunglasses to shield his blue-gray eyes, he could pass for a native all the time. His excellent Spanish soon sounded South American, and he made himself at home in short order.
The team targeted the thriving kidnapping industries in Colombia and Ecuador, hired by the relatives of the victims or sometimes by government agencies. They conducted ransom negotiations, ransom drops, but also retrieval of hostages by military force.
On one occasion, they freed a captured American diplomat from his Sendero Luminoso captors, killing a large number of the Maoist guerilleros in the process.
This in turn brought Henry in touch with one James Mason, code name Larry Holmes, then a CIA contractor in Lima, Peru.
"Mr. Ruiz-Costa? His Lordship will see you now," the secretary broke into his memories.
Henry rose quickly and followed the woman. The office into which she led him was in stark contrast to the plush interiors he had seen so far. The furnishings were sparse and functional and made of birch wood. Almost IKEA style, Henry thought with an inward smile. But in the very next moment he found himself in a bear hug.
"Harry, you old rascal! You're back!"
"Yeah, at least for the time being," Henry answered, trying to extricate himself from the arms of his friend. Displays of affection were unaccustomed to him, but he smiled at his friend.
"It's good to see you, Drew," he said in a calm voice. "Looking good, but you've gained weight."
Andrew Carter grinned at his old friend.
"So would you have, sitting in board rooms all day long. Running around in jungles seems to be the recipe for staying trim," he said slyly.
Henry looked the question.
"I have a friend in the MOD. I asked him to try and find out where you were. He did not give me any specifics, only told me you were working overseas, doing good work for us."
"How is your mother?" Henry asked quickly, changing the direction of the conversation.
"Hanging on. Father's death was a huge blow and she never really recovered. And the situation with ... well with Ellen ... it's eating away at her, too. We ... we know Ellen was involved in that attack on you. Mother has not spoken to her since. You know how Mother always saw you as future son-in-law, tying the families together again and all that. Damn, I'm babbling. But it's so good to see you again. You must come to visit us and meet Rose, my wife I mean. You remember Rose Sefton? The skinny blonde? Well, when I saw her again at uni, she wasn't skinny anymore."
"Rose Sefton?" Henry asked incredulously. "You were so cruel to her. How can she ever forgive what you did to her?"
"I focused my charm on her," Andrew Carter said modestly polishing his nail on his lapel.
"Grovelled before her is more likely," Henry grinned.
"What, did you talk to her?" Andrew laughed back, relieved that the old memories had not killed the friendly mood. "But you can ask her yourself. We'll have a party on Saturday at my place in Kensington. Some of the old gang will also be there. Can I count you in?"
"Sure! What attire?"
"If I had known you'd come, the dress would have been khakis. As it is, I recommend a tux if you want to blend in. Surely you can ask Q branch for tux, now can you?"
Somehow Andrew seemed to be of the opinion that Henry was working for MI-6.
"Drew, I'm not working for the MOD anymore, I'm not working at all right now. I cannot tell you what I did for a living, but I assure you that tuxedos were not part of it. I won't embarrass you, don't worry."
Suddenly, Andrew paled. "Oh damn, I didn't think! Harry, Ellen will also be there. If that's too uncomfortable for you, I'll ask her to stay away. She'll understand."
Henry made a face but then shrugged. "I didn't do anything wrong. It's she who may feel uncomfortable, that is if she's got a conscience. Sorry, Drew, I shouldn't have said that. She's your sister. Look, I'll behave, okay?"
"I'll tell her and let her decide. It's just that I am all that she has for a family. Father's dead, Mother won't speak with her, and Ted's been gone for almost six years, not that anybody misses him."
"So Ted left her?"
"Didn't you know? He disappeared into thin air on the way home from work. Got into his car, drove off, but never arrived. The car was found, but no trace of Ted. Oh damn, another one I shouldn't have spoken of."
"That's all right, Drew. Ted hated me, and I hated him back. I could live with what he did. I just would have never thought ... well, let's leave this topic. I should leave you now so that you can earn the money to feed me on Saturday."
The two men hugged each other once more, and then Henry left grinning broadly.
Once he had left the building, he laughed openly. If only Andrew knew that he had built his bank on Ted Winthorp! Literally! It was right after he had taken his leave from the regiment. He had waylaid Ted Winthorp, forced him out of his car at gunpoint and brought him to an empty industrial building. Throwing away his gun, he had given Winthorp a fighting chance. It had taken twenty minutes until Winthorp did not get up anymore. His face had been a bloody mess at this point, his joints dislocated, and his ribs smashed. Henry finally killed him with a blow to the base of his skull. He remembered feeling empty afterwards, without a purpose.
The body was buried at the bottom of the pit where a new annex to the building of Lambert & Norton was under construction. The next morning, 160 tons of concrete were poured for the foundation, sealing the grave forever. Theodore Winthorp was indeed tucked away safely.
He had toyed with the thought of bundling in Ellen. In fact, his choice of a burial site reflected that thought. But then, when he'd investigated the Winthorps, he learned a few things that made him reconsider. He could not touch Ellen.
Now he would see her again in all probability. He would try to ignore her to be sure ... or not?
After all these years there was still the nagging question in his head as to why she hated him so much that she tried to have him killed? It would be better to avoid her. She would never reveal her motives during a party. Besides, Ellen was his past.
Josie Maxwell was the glimmer of a future for him. Just as beautiful, but with a loving and caring personality. And so brave! Four weeks after leaving Josie and the twins to visit upon Max Maxwell, he still could not get her out of his head. And he had the strange certainty that she felt the same about him.
Sure, he thought cynically, just like he had thought Ellen to be his soul mate!
He took the rented car out of the city, to the Northwest and along the Thames River. Beyond Maidenhead was his parents' home, neglected for years after his father's death. The solicitor who had taken care of the estate had been almost shocked when Henry showed up claiming his birthright after being gone for such a long time. Nevertheless he had given him the keys and taken steps for Henry to receive the proper titles for the house and the lands. Henry parked the car in front of the entrance and entered the house through the still impressive oakwood door.
Tomorrow, a contractor would show up to plan the renovations needed. Henry planned to restore the building using Max Maxwell's money. There was a lot of housing developments close by, allowing him to divest himself of a part of the remaining property for a decent return. He would take care of these matter before he would contact Josie.
He also had the daunting task of translating 250,000 Dollars' worth of cash into British Pound Sterling. Posing as an American tourist he had visited bank branches and exchange booths all over London, always buying three thousand pounds with dollars and netting almost ninety thousand pounds in the course of one busy day. A baseball cap with a fake blonde mane and heavy glasses had disguised him sufficiently, and he had diligently avoided to stare into the security cams that had sprouted all over the city. He was being cautious since he knew that the flow of money was tightly monitored under the new anti-terrorism guidelines.
For the rest, he planned to use his friend Andrew. Andrew would do him the favour if he fed him a convincing story and if he parked the money at Lambert & Norton. For now, 90,000 quid would be enough for his immediate needs.
Nobody recognised him in the village pub where he ate a supper. He was slightly drowsy when he returned to the manor house. His old bedroom had been left untouched all those years. After a change of sheets, he was comfortable enough to sleep in his old bed. Electricity had been restored during the day as the solicitor had promised.
He was watching the evening news on the old aerial-fed TV set in the reading room when he heard the sound of tyres on gravel.
Peeking through the dusty curtains, he saw a Japanese compact car in the drive way. The door opened and a woman alighted, approaching the house hesitantly. Henry's blood ran cold. It was Ellen. He waited until she was standing in front of the door and then yanked it open.
"Came to finish me off?" he asked jovially.
Ellen Winthorp squeaked with surprise when the door opened before she had even rung the bell. She breathed heavily.
"You scared me, Harry," she said softly. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, Ted and his goons did not quite kill me back then."
Tears sprang to her eyes and she sobbed heavily. Henry was unmoved. There had been a time when her tears would have reduced him to jelly but now he surprised himself with his coldness.
"I heard you'd returned. I thought you'd come here. I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you. To tell you how sorry I am for what we did to you."
"You had seven months for that when I was in the hospital and in rehab. It's been fourteen years, now."
"I pushed it off time after time. I was afraid to see you in the hospital, and then, when you were released, you just vanished from the face of the earth."
"Excuse me for not giving a farewell party and inviting you," Henry said mockingly. "I did not feel like giving you a second shot."
"Will you stop that, please? It is true. I wanted Ted to beat you up, but never like that. He was like a madman. If it hadn't been for John, he would have killed you for sure. John stopped him."
"And you did not feel like notifying my father where I was? It would have increased the odds of my survival."
"I would have, I swear. Ted made me come with them. His parents were gone and he took me to their house. He claimed his payment, he and the boys. They ... they kept me and raped me for almost two days. If it's any consolation to you, I spent a week in hospital too. Father went to Ted's parents, but Ted told him how I had instigated the attack on you and threatened to testify. That's when my parents disowned me. My father even barred me from attending his funeral in his will!"
"All's well that ends well, Ellen. At least you found true love with Ted!" Henry could not keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"I thought he had changed! He had therapy for anger management. He was different. But after we were married it started again. I had nowhere to go, nobody to tell. Even Drew wouldn't talk to me back then. And then, Ted didn't come home one evening."
She looked at Henry as if she expected him to say something, but he kept his silence. She took a deep breath.
"I know you killed him. He loved beating me up too much to suddenly disappear. Something happened to him and you are the only man I know who hated him enough and who was able to pull it off."
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