Day 158 - Upside Down- Chapter 6 - (2114 words)

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UPSIDE DOWN, BACK TO FRONT

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 6

Just After

The newsreader looks solemnly into the camera, telegraphing what is obviously serious news even before the words begin.
"Tragedy today on the Auckland Harbour Bridge as an Armoured Car caught alight while blocked in traffic. There has been at least one fatality today as the driver of the truck, stayed in the vehicle too long and the sudden heat, force and speed of the fire gave him no chance to exit the vehicle. The resulting explosion damaged surrounding cars and left a small crater in the road underneath the truck. 5 others have been admitted to Auckland Hospital with serious injuries following the explosion and a number of others are in shock after listening to the screams coming from inside the vehicle. We cross now to Dennis Campbell who is live at the Viaduct in Auckland, Dennis what can you tell us?"
The scene settles on a man in a coat holding a microphone, it's twilight and there's not much to see. He's below the overpass and is pointing up at it as he speaks.
"Caroline, I'm here below the site of the tragic accident and you can see from here the extent of the damage to the outer wall of the Viaduct overpass." The camera pans away and zooms to the overpass some 20-30 feet away and the blackened patterns of smoke and fire lend a war like quality to the scene, a bomb or an act of terror more than a traffic fatality.
"I spoke to several witnesses who have been on the scene today, those not taken to hospital from the blast, but who were close enough to see and hear what can be only described as a living hell for those involved."
The scene cuts to a recorded earlier marked segment and a small Asian man is rubbing his hair and standing with his other hand crooked to his hip, as it holding himself up.
"Yeah I was just walking up right, and it was all smoke and the van started shaking, but we couldn't see in you know? The smoke and the ... i guess then he started screaming and it was really bad. I tried to open the door but then we saw the flames and the screams stopped and it got really hot, like we could feel it. We didn't know what to do man. There was this girl and she like fainted and we dragged her back and someone said we needed to get back, the flames man, they were everywhere.
It was so fast.
There was nothing we could do."
The man shuffles in place as the camera lingers on him and the last statement echoes in the viewers minds, there was nothing we could do.
The scene switches to a woman, smoke and tear stained her hair a mess.
"The heat coming off of it was intense, it was on fire - I mean it was on fire yeah, but like really, really on fire and ... the door was so hot, we had to get back."
She brushes at her face, smearing the soot and tears further into her cheeks, then looks to the left of the camera, not wanting to look it in the eye.
"I can still hear him, it was hell."
She breaks down and a person, previously off camera puts an arm around her and leads her through the shot and as the view pulls back there's a small group of people near the accident site, being attended to by Ambulance staff.
The reporter is back, night once more and live on the scene.
"Now some 7 hours later the road up there is showing scorch marks after the cars and truck have been cleared and traffic is still down to two lanes, as the site is still being examined by the police and accident investigators. Auckland City Traffic authorities have confirmed that all lanes will be opened for commuter traffic tomorrow morning."
Solemn, direct and to the point the reporter signs off back to the studio.
The newsreader continues.
"Police have confirmed the sole occupant of the security truck was the owner of Nixon Secure Transport, Greg Nixon an owner operator of his small firm, with a dozen employees. There has been no word as to the cause of the fire or how and why it spread so fast inside the truck. Police are continuing their investigation, but have stated that this "tragic accident" is not the first report of safety issues in the NST fleet of trucks."
"Ask to comment on the legislated standards of safety for Armoured Security vehicles, the Minister of Land Transport Safety ..."

After

James opened the door and reached for the light switch just inside, the door arcing open to the side as he stepped in.
The light fills the room quickly, but with it came hands pressing on James's throat and chest.
A single, powerful thrust at the centre of his chest pushed him back and upwards against the wall as the other hand closed in on his throat, pincer grip touching the wall with the fingertips on either side and pressuring the windpipe and constricting his breathing, but not stopping it.
The audible slam of his body against the wall reverberated for a second and then as Sam steps into the room he sees James, caught in Ivan's unbreakable grip.
Both James and Sam are trying to leverage off the right hand grip from his throat, James's fingers trying to get under Ivan's and instead of aiding the airflow, restricting it further in his panic. Sam has his hands on the wrist trying to pull it back.
Ivan is strong and is leaning forward into the clinch, his full weight pressing him forward so that the two men in opposition are not just fighting the strength of his arms but also the solid, muscled tension built in anger and momentum.
Ivan blinks and looks at his brother in law, blinking again as if registering his presence in surprise and the violence in his options are suddenly playing behind his eyes.
"Jesus Ivan let him go!"
Ivan's grip drops suddenly and the hand retreats from James' chest and the support gone, James slumps forward and his hands both go to his neck, massaging the air into his throat as much as he can and trying to undo the damage where he can.
"Don't tell me what to do you pissant. I don't give a fuck about who you are, who your sister is - you ain't family sunshine, and not even they can tell Ivan what to do. Do you hear me?" The customary stabbed finger to make his point, drive home the dominance of the situation.
"Hey, I'm not telling you what to do man, you know that - but ... " Sam tries to choose his words carefully but diplomacy is evasive "... what the fuck?"
"Where is my FUCKING MONEY!"
"Jesus, what?" James looked at Sam in a told-you-so glance and Sam keeps his gaze directly at Ivan, ensuring that he does not look devious or evasive in his answers.
"It's safe, in the locker as we agreed! What the hell?"
"When the fuck did you ... "
"Man, this was the plan remember? We don't leave it anywhere that the GPS may be tracked back to? " Sam pleads reason with his pained and confused look. This was the plan after all, but they had to beat Ivan to the money once they realised there was murder on his mind. This was more confirmation that their lives were on the line here. This man was a mistake.
Tread very carefully.
"I WAS SUPPOSED TO MOVE IT! YOU FUCKING MORON! WHERE'S MY MONEY?!?"
Ivan's red rage is a force of its own. It radiates its own heat as he shouts this inches from Sam's nose.
"We had to move it quicker, when we had been questioned by the police we got sent home, I was first and while James was being interviewed I got in my car and moved the money to the storage unit. We couldn't take any chances, we didn't plan on anyone ..." Sam hesitates and now his breath back James gets his anger and betrayal balled up and slams it back into Ivan.
"How the fuck did we end up KILLING, " James suddenly realises what he's saying and it makes him pause - they killed someone.
Dead, murder or not there was now a death they were responsible for.
Aware that Ivan's voice has likely alerted the people next door he lowers his own voice and closes the door quietly.
"You want to point the finger around Ivan? How the hell did Nixon end up dying?"
Ivan says nothing, does not look away from James, happily staring him down even though he knows that his position is not great and possibly indefensible there's no call for cowardice here.
"He should have not been there."
"No he shouldn't - I was SUPPOSED to be in there! Fucking hell Ivan! I could have been killed, Sam could have been killed! How the fuck did that happen?"
"How do I know? You know this guy, why the hell didn't he get out of the truck?" Ivan has calmed down, his excuses are not admissions of any wrongdoing on his part, he's done nothing wrong. There are faults in the plan, faults in the execution of it, but none of this belongs at his door.
"He couldn't get out!" James doesn't know this for certain, but he fears the answer that may come from the continued line of questioning. "I don't know, it ... he was trying to get out. We could hear him screaming on the radio, he ... he just. He fucking burned to death."
James drops to his haunches and holds his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth.
"We killed him. We fucking killed him."
"No, he brought this on himself, he must have waited too long, the fire spreads fast - I told you that you had like less than a minute to get out once the device ignites right? This isn't on me!" Ivan is on familiar territory now, he set this up, he gave warnings. "It's an accident, and we're just lucky it's him. No one will be looking at the money now, they'll all be focussed on him. This is a good thing, we can use the money sooner."
"Jesus Ivan the man is dead! He was burned alive!" Sam chips in and James continues to shake gently, rocking his heels on the floor.
"And that's a tragic accident I get that, but A) We can't change that now and 2) he was a fucking douchebag right? Who gives a fuck?"
"Oh my god! I do! I don't want to be a murderer, you made me a murderer Ivan!" Sam's shock amuses Ivan and his wry smile unsettles Sam more than the threat of physical violence.
"Dude you are not a murderer." His statement is not intended to allay any guilt or fear in his brother in law, it's more of a brag about himself.
"We need to sit still on the money for a few days."
"What?" The sudden ice in the voice again, the threat of action inside of the room.
"It's a murder investigation now!"
"No it's not, I saw the news, they're calling it an accident, this is not a murder."
"But it is a murder! We killed Greg! We fucking killed him, burned him alive."
"No, WE did not, and it's not a murder unless the police say it's a murder."
"I can't believe you, I can't... "
James stands curls his hands above his head, sighing heavily. "Ivan's right"
"What? I don't believe you can... " Sam can't even articulate the swarming disbelief of his reality any longer.
"If they are not looking then we are still on track. But we can't do anything suspicious, we have got to be carrying on. We can't suddenly disappear, or ... have an accident ourselves" A sideways glance from Ivan to the men and the hope that he gets the message, kill them and you open yourself to investigation. "Remember the only perfect crime is the one that never happened. So this is a tragic accident. The money's gone as far as they're concerned. We are... going to have to wait."
"Right, you see that your bum-chum here has more fucking brains than you Sammy-boy. We'll wait, but no one, and I mean no one touches my fucking money."

The fact that he sees it as his is not lost on them.