A large-scale protest here outside the building earlier today is believed to have been provoked by the arrival of Remy James Wilson, a convicted offender who has already been treated in Tier Three. In a shocking allegation, Wilson is rumoured to have reoffended, a claim which is strongly denied by Janus, who insist that the therapy here is effective and infallible. CEO Conrad Becker has so far declined an interview.
Wilson’s alleged reoffending has called into question the dubious methods rumoured to be used by Janus. Many protestors argue that the therapy used here is against human rights, conspiracy theorists even going as far as to imply that Janus tortures the offenders in one of these clinics behind me.
Police officers investigating a break-in here this afternoon have confirmed that a large quantity of drugs was stolen, suggesting that theft, rather than genuine protest, was the motive for an attack that caused thousands of pounds’ worth of damage to the Tier Three clinic. However, an insider who does not wish to be named has informed NewsFlex that a high-ranking psychiatrist has left the company out of the blue. There had been suspicions before now about her drug use and even possible dealings in the illegal drug trade.
This is Dan Gunnarsson reporting for NewsFlex.
Dan left the rest of the crew packing up the kit after filming the protest outside the Janus Justice building and made his way to the nearest Tube station.
He hadn’t called Grace to ask if she was okay after the attack. Was that how bad things were between them? Only a week or so ago life had seemed perfect. It could have stayed that way but for Grace’s deceit and pigheadedness.
Even reporting on Remy bloody Wilson boiled his piss. Maybe the protest had been caused by his article about Wilson, and yes, the protest had gone too far, but it was his job, wasn’t it, to report the news, to show how things actually were? It wasn’t really his fault that Grace’s clinic had been targeted.
His eyelids flickered against a light rain falling from the dark sky.
But to think that she was involved with someone else… How could Grace take him for such a mug? He turned down a side street, pushing his hands into his pockets as he walked.
‘You’re that news fella, aren’t you?’ a man’s voice came from behind him.
He sighed deeply. He wasn’t in the mood for this. It happened sometimes, people stopping him in the street, recognising him.
‘I saw your report about that Remy Wilson fella.’
‘Yeah, yeah…’ said Dan, walking on a bit, hoping the bloke would just go away.
‘And those copycat crimes.’
The rain was going down his collar. He just wanted to get home and go to bed.
Copycat? No, he’d only reported on possible reoffences.
Dan stopped still.
‘Your wife’s called Grace? She works at Janus, doesn’t she? Not difficult to guess where you get your info…’
The hairs on the back of Dan’s neck stood up now, but it wasn’t because of the cold rain.
He turned around slowly. A man, about his own height, dressed in black, stood in front of him, head cocked to one side. They were alone in the dark street. Was this going to get nasty?
‘You want to watch what you report on,’ the man said, his dark eyes narrowing. ‘You could get a whole lot of people into trouble with your rumours.’
‘Look, mate, I don’t know who you are,’ Dan said, taking his hands out of his pockets, ‘but I’ve had a long week…’
‘No worries, though,’ the man interrupted. ‘You won’t be able to report on anything after I’ve finished with you.’
Dan didn’t see the first punch coming, hardly felt it as the shock kicked in.
But by the fourth or fifth, he knew he was in serious trouble. His last thought before he lost consciousness was of Grace.
By the time Grace reached the Agrarian, the drugs she’d given Remy had done their job and he was conscious but distressed and confused. The Scaries, George had called it. Grace had been scared herself for the last few miles as Remy had been lashing out, fighting an invisible enemy. It had made for difficult driving. She’d tried to use one of the sedative sprays but couldn’t wrestle with him and drive at the same time. Her cheek still throbbed from her attempt. The more awake he became, the more disturbed he seemed.
It was almost one in the morning when she pulled up to the compound gate. She got out of the car and shut the door, leaving Remy wild-eyed and slamming his palms against the windscreen inside, while she approached the intercom.
‘Shannon!’ she cried. ‘I’m at the gate. I need help!’
The camera on the gatepost clicked and swivelled around, no doubt taking in the sight of a man, naked but for a white sheet, trying to fight his way out of the car, and Grace standing helpless nearby.
‘What have you done?’ Shannon’s voice sounded tinny. ‘Stay there.’
The gate started to open slowly.
‘Remy, it’s me, Gracie!’ she shouted desperately through the car windscreen. His hands flapped at the door handle, unable to connect, leading to frustrated animal roars.
A few minutes later, Shuggie appeared, leading a group of men down the drive towards the car. Her protective instincts flared. ‘What are you going to do?’ she cried as one of them gently moved her out of the way. ‘Don’t hurt him!’
Shannon hurried down the drive after them and made straight for Grace, putting her arm around her shoulder in a gesture of comfort and restraint.
‘Stand back, Grace,’ Shuggie commanded. ‘We know what we’re doing.’ The men took Remy roughly from the car, grabbing his arms and legs as he fought and writhed against them.
Shannon held her by the shoulders and turned her away from the spectacle. ‘They’re going to look after him now, doll. You just leave it to the lads. They see this kind of thing a lot…’
‘Where are they taking him?’ she whispered as they stood in the beam of her headlights, a fine rain catching the light in tiny dots that looked like snowfall.
‘To the cooler,’ Shannon said.
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s where they take the other lads, the soldiers, sometimes when they’re suffering from PTSD – a quiet place, soft, he won’t hurt himself and he’ll calm down. He’ll be fine,’ Shannon soothed, ‘just fine.’
Once the men had disappeared from sight, Grace and Shannon walked slowly up the drive, arm in arm. Grace was relieved she wasn’t alone. Once in the house, Shannon sat her down on the sofa, wrapped a fleece around her, more for comfort than warmth, and poured them both a calming AltCon drink.
‘Grace, love, I don’t know what the hell is going on,’ Shannon said, sitting down next to her, ‘but what on earth are you doing?’
Grace drank quickly, half as a cure for the extreme stress she’d suffered and half in celebration of the relief she was feeling now that Remy was safe, at least for now.
‘What are you playing at? You can’t leave him here… they’ll come for him.’
‘Conrad caught me trying to take Remy.’
‘Christ, Grace!’
‘It’s okay. He’s not going to do anything. He said I can keep my job here, at Tier Two.’
Her friend’s mouth fell open. ‘How the hell did you manage that? What you’ve done is gross misconduct… It’s more than that, surely – it’s assisting an offender, jail term for abduction…’
‘I’m blackmailing Conrad. Remy wasn’t officially signed in.’
Shannon sighed deeply.
‘Can I stay here? Just for a while…’
‘Of course, but what about Remy? Are they going to put him in Tier Four?’
‘Conrad says he can remain here.’ Grace registered Shannon’s expression. ‘He’s better off here than in Tier Four, Shan.’
There was a long silence before Shannon finally said, ‘I don’t like this, doll. Not one bit. I’d do anything for you, you know that. But is this right?’
Grace nodded gravely. ‘You have to trust me, Shan.’
After drinking more AltCon while Grace explained about the brain scans, Shannon seemed more understanding about the situation. ‘So it looks as though someone has set him up.’
Grace nodded. ‘Are you sure, I mean about me staying here, with Shuggie and the kids and everything?’
Shannon put her hand on her friend’s. ‘Listen, you can stay as long as you need. And Remy… well, I don’t know what will happen to him, but if Conrad says he can stay here, then I’m only following orders from the boss.’ She gave a mischievous grin.
‘Oh God, thank you, Shan, thank you.’ Grace grabbed her friend into a hug and then released her. ‘Remy will be safe?’
‘Can’t think of a safer place than with those lads.’
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
Grace leaned back on the sofa, finally giving in to her exhaustion.
‘There’s a cabin, not far from this house,’ Shannon said. ‘It’s nice and secluded, needs a bit of a fix-up, but it will give Shuggie and the boys something to do. Why don’t you stay there until you get yourself sorted? Give you a bit of privacy and peace away from this madhouse.’
Grace nodded slowly. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
Right now all she wanted was somewhere to rest and a chance to get back into her work, to find meaning in all the chaos.
Should she tell Dan the whole truth?
Screw him, he made his choices.
‘I know what we need,’ Shannon said, hoisting herself off the sofa. She disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned carrying a bottle of colourless liquid and two glasses. ‘Hooch, made by the lads,’ she said with a wink, pouring it liberally. She passed a glass to Grace and they clinked them together.
‘To whatever the fuck happens next,’ Shannon said and downed the lot.
‘Amen,’ said Grace. The liquid warmed her insides immediately.
Shannon refilled Grace’s glass before she had a chance to put it down. ‘Jesus, doll, that was nuts! You just kidnapped him,’ she said, her face morphing from an expression of shock to one of hilarity, and she suddenly roared with laughter. ‘You bloody kidnapped him! And you got away with it!’
‘I guess I did,’ said Grace, welcoming the fuzzy feeling that was beginning to wash through her. She emptied her glass again and reached for the bottle.
It was late in the afternoon when Grace awoke in a small pink bed with her face squashed up against a huge teddy bear. There was a fire raging in her throat, her stomach felt stripped of its lining and her head throbbed. She hadn’t had a hangover since she’d been a teenager.
She shuffled downstairs and into the kitchen. The light was too bright, and the noise from the kids playing outside made her head hurt.
‘You look as bad as I feel.’ Shannon grinned as she stood chopping vegetables. ‘But I had to get up with the kids. I’ve eaten and I’m picking up a bit now.’ She threw the vegetables into a pan. ‘You want something to eat? There’s toast and cereal.’
Grace closed her eyes in response and when she opened them again, a glass of water sat in front of her. She gulped some and immediately regretted as she had to swallow hard to keep it down.
‘That bad, huh?’
Grace nodded and squeezed her lips together before asking quietly, ‘Is Remy okay?’
‘Shuggie’s been keeping an eye on him, says he’s much calmer now.’
‘I’m going to get some fresh air, walk over and see him.’
‘You sure? You don’t want to wait until you feel a bit better?’
She shook her head and again, regretted it.
‘At least have some coffee and painkillers.’
Shannon put them in front of her, smiled and turned back to her vegetables. ‘Shuggie says Remy spent a few hours in the cooler and he seems to be doing okay. He’s had a hot shower and a good meal. The lads have taken him under their wing. They’re going to wait till he’s feeling stronger and give him some work to do, chop wood or paint fences, or something…’
Grace knew how healing simple work could be. Remy would feel at home here. He would belong.
‘Shuggie thinks he’ll do great here. He’s one of them. They all fought in Africa, got a lot to talk about. Sounds like you got Conrad off his back. No one’s going to come looking here for him, are they?’ It was more of a statement than a question.
But images of Diros rose in Grace’s mind. Remy might be in a secure compound, surrounded by combat-proficient, military-trained men. But whatever her friend said, Grace knew that Diros would always be looking for Remy, and once they found him, who knew what they would do to him?