Max Arena Read online

  'Tell us what's on your mind, Kris?’ Max asked. ‘Tell us what you need us to know?'

  Joe slid his gaze sideways to Max to briefly appraise him, quickly studying his face and finding nothing but sincerity. He then slid his gaze back to Kris who spoke again, her voice trembling and hard.

  'It's time we all accepted that this is not going away,’ she pushed out. ‘This is real. This is our life now and if we're looking for a way out, you’re actually our life line and not the one to blame. You’re the one we need. You’re the solution and I need to get on board with that.' Kris sharply lifted her head, her eyes snapping open to look straight up at Max, who remained steadfast and honed right back into Kris' eyes, which now burned brightly inside her deep shadows. 'My family is in danger out there and at the end of this they might all get killed. Hell, I might die and all of you, but you’re our hero, Max and we all need to work together to make sure you’re ready. We need to help you and I need to accept that and start pulling my weight, starting right now. Right here. Right now.'

  Max stood as firm as granite, unmoving, holding Kris' fierce gaze and then, after the pause had lasted long enough to let Kris' words and emotion sink in, he slowly nodded to her. She nodded back, her lips tight and her jaw set. Max then flicked his eyes across to Elsa who acknowledged the cue and carefully moved along the couch to gently place an arm around Kris' shoulders. Kris broke her fix on Max and immediately unwound, sinking her face into Elsa’s shoulder and quietly sobbing. Behind the couch, Peter took two steps back as the tension in the room dissipated.

  'Max,' Joe said as he stepped in closer, 'thank you for diffusing the situation.’

  Max glanced at Joe long enough to acknowledge his Prime Minister’s comment and then he looked back to Elsa and Kris. ‘I didn’t do anything,’ he said. ‘Kris let it out herself.’

  ‘To the untrained eye perhaps, however, I know skill when I see it.'

  Max broke his gaze off his wife and Kris and looked askew at Joe who continued.

  'Whether you realise it or not,’ Joe said, ‘you in fact helped Kris unleash her deepest fears. By being direct and not being over bearing, you supported her and let her know it was time to let out her pain and that with her new friends around her, it would be okay.'

  Max looked up to see Elsa and Kris rise together from the couch to walk across to the door. Peter stepped aside and opened the portal for them, talking into his wrist microphone as he did to let his team know they were on the move. Max did not turn back to Joe, but instead let his gaze fall to the floor.

  'Something happened tonight, Joe' he said.

  'What happened?' Joe asked quietly.

  'I felt compassion for someone other than someone in my family,' he said. 'Kris' pain was obvious and it hit me, hard and I've never reacted that way.'

  'We're all going through new sensations right now, Max,' Joe said. 'These times are unprecedented and new to all of us. Even for Abdullah and I who have experienced the turmoil of war, this is new. I think we can all expect to undergo some changes before this is over. I also think that if we do not change in some way we will not have any hope of success.'

  Max looked up. Joe looked back, his pipe resting in his hand against his chest. The grandfatherly look was back, but the eyes still shone bright.

  Joe continued. 'Go and reflect on tonight, Max,' he said, 'and then get some rest. Kris will be alright in the morning, but I have a strong suspicion she is going to push you quite hard. I might even come out and watch the sport?'

  Max smiled with Joe and nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks for the talk.'

  'And thank you again for sharing your story tonight. I also have plenty to reflect on, but now with the truth in my care, I feel more confident of where we need to go.'

  Max nodded again and walked off. Peter fell in step with him and together the two men left the room. Just before Peter stepped through the door, he glanced back at Joe who nodded and held up his pipe in return.

  'He is an excellent sentinel your Peter,' Abdullah said from his chair where he still sat amidst his robes. 'You are fond of him?'

  'Yes, I am,' Joe replied as he placed his pipe back between his teeth and moved across to sit at the end of the couch where Kris had been, closer to Abdullah. 'Laying down his life to save another is not a cliché for him. It is very real. I've seen him do it and I am thankful that he and Max have struck up a friendship because I can now see Peter would do the same for Max and his family.'

  'You have a remarkable ability to bring the best out in people, Joseph. I see it again and again and you have done the same with Max and Elsa. They trust you implicitly and that is good because they deserve your trust in return.'

  Joe smiled and leaned back against the couch, taking a fake draw on his pipe. 'Abdullah, you have exceptional skill in creeping up on a topic. I can sense there is more on your mind than discussing my charm. As you well know, you can be plain with me.'

  This time Abdullah smiled, the shadows folding across his bronzed face. 'Thank you for the invitation to speak and I suspect that what is on my mind has been on your’s for just as long. I now also see evidence that this issue is beginning to dawn on everyone in the group.’

  ‘And what issue is that?’ Joe asked, still puffing away on his dormant pipe and looking across at Abdullah from beneath arched brows.

  ‘Max alone is not our solution. He is one man, albeit half-alien and extremely impressive, but he is still just one man and that is not enough to defeat this peril that lays siege to us. Max needs us as much as we need him. Kris spoke passionately of it tonight as she released some of her fears, that we need to be a team supporting Max and her passion is well placed. You have all been together for a little over two weeks. However, in the few days that I have been with you all, I have not seen any bonds that bind you all together. You have appeared to me as a group of strong-willed individuals, very capable in your own ways, but not bound as a team and that is what is needed most. A team, but tonight we all witnessed a spark. A glimpse of awakening of what you all need to be to even dare dream of success. While I am thankful to Max for sharing his secret, I am most thankful for Kris’ passion. She has proven that hope is stirring within you. You are finding your courage and preparing to stand up to the doom that stalks us. I will sleep a little more easily tonight knowing that you all may have just taken your first, tentative steps on the path to becoming a team.’

  Joe nodded silently as he held his pipe in place in his mouth with one hand. ‘You know,’ he started, ‘we can never be a team without you, my friend? I can only bring them together so much. We need your wisdom and guidance and more than anything, your spirituality to glue us in place. I am a statesman with the best of intentions, but you, my friend, you are the disciple of life and all its mystery. We need you to lead us into the jaws of doom. As you say, we cannot hope to succeed if we are not a team, but I say to you that we cannot hope to be a team without you leading us.

  Abdullah’s hazel eyes glittered beneath his dark brow, his white Keffiyeh framing his face and radiating the slight gloom away. His gaze held unblinking for a few moments and then he relented. Closing his eyes, Abdullah gently nodded once, the movement more like a slight bow.

  In return, Joe nodded also. He then turned his gaze to the empty fireplace and shifting his pipe between his lips, lost himself in dark thoughts of the troubles and pain that pillaged the world outside as he sat in safe silence.

  Noon, 16th July (4 days later). Skirmish

  Max looked around the small living room and again noted the liberal placement of family photos. The room was as much a shrine to Kris’ family as it was a place to relax and catch up, just as they were doing right now with Kris’ parents in their suburban home in Brisbane.

  ‘That one’s my favourite over there,’ Kris’ father said from the centre of the couch, his wrinkled and spotted hand pointing a finger towards the sideboard across the room.

  Max turned to look and amongst the plethora of other photos crammed
into every available space, he found a picture of what looked like a skinny young, blonde haired girl in a red sports uniform.

  ‘Stop it, Dad!’ Kris chirped, elbowing her father in the ribs from where she sat next to him. ‘I didn’t come all the way here to get embarrassed by you. You do that every time I bring people over.’

  ‘She’s right, dear,’ Kris’ Mum said from the opposite side of Kris’ father, ‘besides, if you really want to embarrass her, you should get everyone to look at that one over there.’

  Max glanced around and found Kris’ mother pointing to a side table with a teenage looking Kris in a school uniform smiling away and proudly showing off her dental braces.

  Elsa giggled from the chair next to Max, forcing Kris to shoot her a not so friendly look. Elsa shrugged meekly, but the smirk stayed well and truly in place.

  ‘That’s it,’ Kris said abruptly, making to get up. ‘We’re out of here. I love you guys, but I didn’t come here to get...’

  ‘Oh, hush,’ Kris’ mother said, ‘and sit down. I’m going to make tea. Orders, please?’

  Kris’ mother stood up and looked around.

  ‘White with two, please?’ Elsa asked.

  Max shook his head.

  Kris’ mother turned to Peter who was pretending to stand from idly in a far corner of the room. He also shook his head and held a hand up.

  ‘Black, no sugar,’ Kris said.

  Kris turned to her daughter and frowned. ‘When did you stop taking milk?’ she said. ‘Milk’s good for you.’

  ‘Mum, I stopped having milk in my tea when I was sixteen,’ Kris replied, pulling a face. ‘You say that every time and while you’re in the kitchen, I think you better get Max something to eat. It’s been at least an hour since he devoured anything, so he’s probably starving.’

  Kris’ mother turned to look at Max, who looked back a little uncertainly. Max failed to articulate anything and so Kris jumped in.

  ‘He’s just being polite, Mum,’ she said. ‘You said you had some roast lamb left over. Toss some of it on some bread and that’ll keep him happy.’

  Max simply shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Good,’ Kris’ mother said. ‘I don’t allow hungry men in my house. If you’re hungry, you eat.’

  Shuffling out of the room, Kris’ mother kept up the monologue, fast becoming inaudible as she moved out of earshot.

  ‘You’re going to eat and you’re going to like it,’ Kris said, pointing a finger at Max. ‘Pete, you better sit yourself down too before she comes back or she’ll make you sit. Men don’t stand in mum’s house either.’

  Peter cast a sideways glance out to the kitchen where Kris’ mother had disappeared to and for a moment, actually looked a little uncertain as well.

  ‘So, Max,’ Kris’ father started, ‘my little girl tells me you’re going to save the world. How do you feel about that?’

  Max turned back to Kris’ father and found an old man’s and a father’s careful face looking back. Despite his advanced years and almost bald and sun splotched scalp, the man was clearly his daughter’s father. Sitting side by side, Kris and her father’s resemblance was obvious. Even the old man’s witty and often cheeky personality proved he and Kris were cut from the same cloth.

  ‘I’ll do my best, sir,’ Max said straight back. ‘That’s a promise.’

  Kris’ father held Max’s gaze for a moment and then slowly nodded. ‘Can’t ask more than that of a man and from what Kris tells me, your best is a show worth watching.’

  This time Max nodded. Elsa reached across and rubbed her husband’s thigh, allowing Max to grab her hand and squeeze it.

  ‘I told you, Dad,’ Kris followed up. ‘Max is the real deal. It’s a pity we can’t get you out to watch him train, but maybe I can get some of it on film and email it through.’

  ‘You can try,’ Kris’ father replied, frowning and shifting in his seat. The internet’s gotten all squirly. Some days it doesn’t get out of bed at all.’

  Kris smiled and slapped her father on the arm. ‘You and the internet,’ she said chuckling. ‘Who would have thought you’d even be on speaking terms with it? An old bloke like you.’

  Just then, Max twitched his head slightly to the side. Peter instantly registered the movement and tuned his own senses. Releasing Elsa’s hand, Max smoothly rose and turned to the doorway leading out to the hall. The conversation between Kris, her father and Elsa meandered on, while Peter swiftly stepped away from the wall to follow Max out of the room.

  Out in the hallway, Max paused and looked both ways. The floor plan of the house was simple with a central hall running the length of the dwelling and all the rooms coming off either side. Max looked to the right and found one of Abdullah’s security guards standing at the rear door of the house, keenly peering through a gap in the curtains over the glass pane in the rear door, marking any activity in the backyard. Max then looked left and found another of Abdullah’s security guards in a similar pose, looking out the glass pane of the front door.

  Peter flicked a glance to Max and froze. Max suddenly had that look about him. All purpose and while he wasn’t tense, Max was ready. Lifting his wrist microphone to his mouth, Peter spoke to his team who were waiting outside on the street in the armoured Land Cruisers.

  ‘Any action out there?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ came the reply from one of his men. ‘All clear. You coming out?’

  ‘No. We’re good in here. Out,’ Peter said, closing the link and returning to Max. ‘What’s up, mate? You look spooked.’

  Max didn’t respond and instead started walking down the hall towards the front door. Peter quickly stepped off after him, trying to look past his bulk to the guard ahead. Hearing the approaching footsteps, the guard glanced over his shoulder to see Max flick his head, indicating he wanted the door open.

  As the man pulled the portal ajar, Peter called out, ‘Hold up, mate!’

  Peter’s effort failed as Max crossed the threshold and stepped out onto the steps leading down to the front yard. Peter raised his wrist microphone as he quickly followed behind.

  ‘Sword is coming out the front,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Cover the street.’

  As Peter exited the door, he found Max halfway down the stairs, while in his peripheral vision, he saw his team tumbling out of two of the three black Land Cruisers on the opposing kerb. Max reached the bottom of the stairs and walked out the front gate and onto the footpath where he stopped. This allowed Peter to catch him up a few moments later and stand next to him.

  Peter then looked both ways along the street, firstly to confirm his team had taken up full covering positions up and down from him, but also to see if there was any other activity in view. The street was empty.

  ‘What’s on your mind, big fellah?’ Peter asked quietly as he continued to scan the surrounds.

  ‘Something’s not right,’ Max evenly replied as he too looked around, slowly and methodically.

  ‘How do you know?’ Peter carefully asked, checking the Land Cruisers to make sure the three vehicles had their drivers all on seat and ready.

  ‘Heard something outside and it was wrong.’

  Peter paused and instinctively visualised drawing his own gun in rehearsal for a threat he could not sense. ‘You heard something outside?’ Peter pushed. ‘That’s it?’

  ‘That’s how it works for me,’ Max answered, his gaze fixed down the length of the street to the right. ‘Don’t ask me why, but when it happens, I know I need to be ready.’

  Peter didn’t say anything in return and then he saw Max’s jaw line firm up. Immediately he flicked his attention round to align with Max’s gaze down the street.

  ‘There,’ was all Max said, his tone quiet, but deliberate.

  Then Peter saw the car. A maroon, dual cab ute had turned onto the empty street about two hundred metres down and was driving towards them. Peter squinted and then noted the first hint of trouble.

  ‘Draw and hold,’ Peter said into
his microphone. ‘The ute’s packing.’

  Immediately, all four of Peter’s men reached into their jackets to draw their handguns, letting them rest in front with double-handed grips, ready for use. Strategically positioned at four corners, they now had Max’s position covered from all directions.

  ‘Watch your cross fire,’ Peter continued. ‘Let’s hope we discourage them from visiting.’

  The ute came closer and now Peter clearly saw what he had suspected. He did not know how many occupants were inside the vehicle, but two men stood on the rear tray, holding onto the chrome roll bar at the back of the cabin, which indicated they were not out for a friendly jaunt. Then one of the men banged his fist on the roof and that was enough to convince Peter to draw his own gun and let it hang by his side.

  Peter snuck a look at Max and saw that his expression had set like granite, his eyes boring into the incoming vehicle. Glancing down, Peter found Max’s fists clenched, his forearms like roped steel.

  Turning back to the house, Peter called out to the guard at the top of the stairs, ‘Keep everyone inside! We got this!’

  As Peter turned back to face the ute, he heard the front door of the house close and the locks snap into place. Then the ute slowed and crawled into the firing zone set up by Peter’s men. None of his team flinched. Neither did Max, but Peter could literally feel the man’s leashed aggression burning off him. Every shred of Peter’s military experience screamed at him that this was very soon going to get out of hand. Then the ute stopped in the centre of the road right in front of Max and Peter.

  ‘Oooooooweeee!’ one of the men on the back tray called out, his long, straggly hair flaying about as he looked wildly around at each of Peter’s team. ‘Look at all these boys and their guns!’

  Even from where he stood on the kerb, Peter could see the wide dilation of the pupils of both men as they leered at everyone. His whole body tensed.

  ‘They’re wired,’ Peter said into his wrist microphone and loud enough for Max to hear. ‘Might even be a suicide run.’