by C. T. Adams
I watched Bobby’s mouth open. His eyes widened in shock. It wasn’t a surprise to me. Carmine always has a back-up plan. If he knew Bobby was coming, he absolutely would have some way to destroy the room to kill Bobby. None of the underground rooms are weight bearing. They can be destroyed and sealed over to hide the bodies. I’d just be unfortunate collateral damage. I presumed he’d have a convenient escape plan for him and Linda. Or not. Maybe Joey would end up in charge and they’d lay waste to the state finding Babs’s kidnapper in retaliation.
Bobby let out a harsh breath of air. “Fine. Take off your shirt. You want to watch, Carmine? Fine, then watch.”
I had just removed my shirt and turned to look at Bobby. Linda gasped when she saw my back. Even Carmine hissed through closed teeth. “Goddamn, Tony! Do those go all the way down?”
I glanced in the mirror. All of Carmine’s high security rooms have mirrors. They aren’t two-way or anything—well, some of them are—but it’s to keep people from sneaking up on you. It’s hard to draw down on someone when everyone’s always watching.
I finally saw what Asri had done to me. Yeah, they looked about as bad as they felt. The gashes on my back were obviously made by five toed claws. She had raked open the skin and muscle until the white of my ribs showed through in large patches. I was amazed that I hadn’t lost any organs out the holes.
“To the ankles,” I said. Seeing them had made them start to hurt again. Damn it. I’d almost forgotten they were there. The wounds throbbed in time to my heart. Amazing how the eyes and mind connect on shit like that.
Bobby began to load up his eyes with power. It’s really weird to see a person’s eyes glowing the first time. Of course, Carmine and Linda were a little more used to it because they’d been sleeping with Babs. Still, it’s impressive. And more than a little scary.
He began to glow, softly at first but then brighter with each passing second. In another time, he would have been treated as a god. A wave of raw power began to soar through the room. It swirled around me like a whirlwind. The energy raised Linda’s pale hair until the strands danced like gossamer around her.
The feeling of fur in the back of my mind disappeared. The room began to smell like a jungle. Even Linda caught the scent. She looked around with nostrils flared, seeking the source. Soon I couldn’t focus and the room began to disintegrate. Thick vines began to flow in a bright muggy mist. Trees soared upward as high as I could see. The vines wrapped around me. They were warm and wiggly and tickled as they slithered over my bare skin. I suddenly knew that once there were many like Bobby. I saw his world in the jungle as it once was. Dark-hued people flowed in and out of their skins with the ease of breathing. I saw individual faces. People with histories and personalities and lives.
I saw the night the humans came. I watched the nets being thrown, the ropes drawn taut around the necks of siblings and cousins. I watched little kids being staked and stoned and cut apart. The trees that were home were burned to prevent the “disease” of being Sazi from spreading. Then it was gone. They were all gone. Bobby had seen only the aftermath but had “watched” it all in his mind as the cords of magic were cut, one by one. Hate and pain and sadness swept through me. Then that was gone, too.
I was back in Carmine’s war room. I still breathed in Bobby’s magic. I soaked in his power until I glowed like a nova. But I knew his pain and his weariness. My feet rose from the floor, held aloft by the sheer force of all of the Sazi that had come before and were yet to be. Light played over my skin like tiny rainbows and I got to watch the wounds on my arm knit back together as though in time-lapse. The skin of my back ached, tightened, itched and relaxed, all within seconds of each other.
When my feet finally touched the floor again, I knew I was healed. I also knew that Bobby was drained far beyond where he could afford to be. I’d have to thank him but not in front of the others.
Linda had her hand over her brows to shield the glare. Carmine hadn’t moved. He sat like a statue as he watched in awe. The light finally faded from Bobby’s eyes and he stumbled just the tiniest bit. He looked the same as normal, with the exception of tired lines set in his brow.
“Good enough?” he asked with an angry edge. I looked at my back in the mirror. It was once again smooth and flawless. I tentatively stretched my muscles and found them perfect. Better than perfect actually. I felt like I’d just got back from a visit to the chiropractor.
I spun around so he could inspect my back. Linda’s reflected eyes were wide and her mouth remained open for some time. “Oh my God! That is amazing!”
“Good enough.” It was all Carmine would say to acknowledge what had just happened. It was all that was necessary.
Chapter 8
BOBBY OFFERED CARMINE a few details, but not enough. Carmine wouldn’t know where we were going, or how we were going to track the kidnapper. I insisted on seeing the room where they were taken.
“Have you moved anything?”
“No.” Linda responded in an flat, annoyed voice. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she shot a glare at Carmine, who shrugged. Linda hates a messy house.
Linda unlatched the door and she and Bobby started down the hall. Carmine held me back with a firm hand. A quick call to the game room was made. I heard it ring twice and then it was picked up. No one spoke on the other end.
“We’re good,” said Carmine. Then the other end hung up. He turned to me and walked toward me.
“Tony, there’s something you need to know.” Carmine spoke quietly, his voice uncertain. I caught a whiff of the tart acidic smell of confusion and guilt. It’s like bitters in tonic water.
I raised my brows to show I was paying attention.
“I didn’t expect it to happen, Ton. But I love Babs. I want her found. This isn’t a game to me.”
My brows raised even further as I smelled the cinnamon apple pie spice that told me he wasn’t kidding. He and Linda have an agreement. They both enjoy having a third person invited to bedroom games. But there are rules. Neither of them are supposed to get emotionally attached to the third. That’s what keeps it from being cheating. As far as I’m concerned it’s rationalization at its finest. But it’s not my business.
Carmine’s grip had tightened until his knuckles whitened. It would have been painful if I were still human. He released my arm, looking startled at his own display of emotion.
“I haven’t told Linda, but we was trying to have kids, Tony. Me and Barbara. You know Linda’s plumbing doesn’t work.” He took a deep breath. It was hard for him to admit this. “I had to tell you, so you’d understand. If Barbara would have asked, I’d have left Linda.” He stared at me until I believed it.
Whoa. I did know Linda had some internal problems and they’d had to remove her uterus. But Carmine’s crazy about Linda and kids had never been an issue. That he could fall hard enough for Babs to break them apart…I took a deep breath. Wow. The stakes had just raised. I let out a slow breath through pursed lips. At his next words I felt my eyes widen even further.
“And Tony? If she’s…dead,” The word was accompanied by a small choking sound. His eyes grew cold and wetness sparkled when he blinked. His scent became the fiery Jalapeño of hate. “I want you to promise me you’ll make her murderer hurt.”
I nodded my head, trying to think of something sufficient to satisfy Carmine’s need for revenge if it came to it. I came up dry. I was suddenly hoping that I wouldn’t only find Babs’s body. Bobby’s vision of war wouldn’t even be a shadow of the real thing. Grenade launchers would only be the beginning.
“What’s keeping you guys?” Bobby’s voice echoed down the hall. I turned to the sound and when I turned back, Carmine was wiping his eyes quickly and shaking down his arms until he calmed. But this time no ozone scent of relief filled the air. He wouldn’t relax until this was over—one way or another.
“You ready, Tony?” Carmine asked. “You ready to be my hunter again?” He clapped me on the back and I tensed, waiting for it to h
urt. It didn’t.
“Ready.” I didn’t mention that I had no clue how to hunt and take down something that made the preternatural cops nervous. I might be way out of my league. All I could do was try my best and hope that I’d come up with something along the way. I also knew that I’d rather face death from the kidnapper than to come back to Carmine and report failure.
“By the way, you want your stuff, or should we keep it here? You might need your tools for this job.”
Ah, That’s right, Linda said she’d picked up my stuff from Jocko. “Absolutely. You can keep the guns, though. Too many ballistic reports on them already. But I’ll be needing the money to buy some new toys.”
I leaned out into the hall to shout to Bobby and Linda. “Be with you in a minute. Got to get my stuff.”
Bobby looked suspicious, but then shrugged and walked away with Linda. When I returned my gaze to Carmine, he had a puzzled expression. He walked toward the bar set into the far wall. “I had Mike clean out your place, but there isn’t any cash, other than loose change. You can have all the rest back, if you want. Clothes, furniture—the works. The computer is toast. I had Ira overwrite the files and then reformat the drive.”
I nodded. Standard procedure. Carmine couldn’t afford any loose ends that might lead to him. “How’d you get everything past the cops? Didn’t they have warrants?” I’ve been a little busy since I disappeared. I’d left everything behind and gave it all up for lost. Both because of the warrant, and because I was starting a new life in Chicago, courtesy of the Sazi.
He chuckled, but the sound was a little bitter. Scents blended and then split. I couldn’t sort out what he was feeling. His voice was flat and unemotional when he spoke. “We arranged for there to be a body found that matched yours. We did it for all our guys, not theirs. We’d have done it for your lady, too, but the cops would’ve gotten DNA samples from the family as a matter of course.”
I nodded. I wasn’t surprised. He’d gone to a lot of bother, but he’d done it as much for his benefit as mine.
Carmine continued, “I don’t know what Las Vegas and Atlantic City are doing to cover their tracks. All that was left for us afterwards was the clean-up.” He paused, looking at me long enough that it made me a little nervous. “I suppose I should be pissed, and I assure you I was surprised. Fortunately, it worked out for the best. You left a will, Tony.”
I froze in place at the words, and my heart skipped a beat. I had no doubt the shock showed on my face. Shit. I’d completely forgotten. I had drawn up a will years ago when Linda and I got engaged, long before she hooked up with Carmine. It named Linda as my sole heir. I’d never bothered to contact the lawyer to change it. Oh shit. How would Carmine react? I waited without even breathing. I felt my stomach unclench when the oranges scent of his amusement drifted to me.
Carmine changed the subject. He’d learned what he needed to know from my reaction. “I had Louis take over your security business. He needed to start going legit anyway. He’s taking that kid—Scotty—under his wing.”
That widened my eyes and allowed me to put our previous conversation out of my mind. “You’ll need to keep a close eye on the kid.” I warned. “Scotty is smart, but he’s a psychopath. He has to kill to satisfy something inside.” Being an assassin had allowed Scotty to avoid becoming a serial killer. He’d started his streak at six. One job a year after, and he was a full-fledged teenager with homicide on the brain. I like Louis. I didn’t want to see him wind up on a slab. Scotty does close-in work. I wanted to make sure Louis wouldn’t be getting a stiletto between the ribs.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be watching him. You know, the kid was pretty bummed when you turned up missing. He’d hoped to turn into a shooter. He might still. I’m having Joey work with him. And I already told the kid that if he so much as scratches the skin of one of my guys, it’s open season.”
I didn’t say any more about it. Carmine’s the boss for a reason. He’s not stupid or careless. So long as Scotty was worth the trouble Carmine would use him. If the kid became a liability, it would be over.
Carmine shoved a couple of bottles aside to make room to slide a single finger down between the bar and the wall. At the press of a switch the panel next to the bar moved out a few inches and slid quietly to the side. The lights came on automatically as Carmine and I entered the room.
Carmine’s outer war room contains all the tools for planning a war. The secret alcove we were in now stored his tools for staging a war. Wooden pegs line the walls in configurations that can change at a moment’s notice. Every weapon currently on the market and a few prototypes hung in orderly rows. Waist-high cabinets hold multiple rounds of ammo for each of the
Carmine crossed the length of the room in four strides. He lifted the lid of a nondescript file storage box on the floor to reveal my own personal stash of weapons. I stared at them with lust. But no, they were known to the police. I didn’t dare. Still, I couldn’t resist the urge to draw one gun from the long leather holster. I’d bought this particular gun just before I’d been forced to disappear. But as I pulled the weapon from the custom holster I found myself frowning. This Thompson Encore looked similar to the one I’d had custom made, down to the black chrome finish, but it definitely wasn’t the same gun. Carmine nodded as I stared at it and the scent of amusement and pride rose from him.
“Yeah, it’s a different barrel. I figured you’d notice. We melted down the 6mm PPC that was on it. I got you one in that new load—.17 HRM. It’s a sweet round. No mess at all. Goes in one side, doesn’t come out the other. Can’t beat it for close-in jobs. And if you miss, there aren’t any ricochets. It just disintegrates when it hits something.”
He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. I’d been wanting to give that new round, plus the later version, the Mach 2, a try for awhile. I lifted the gun and sighted down the barrel through the Burris scope. Of course, everything was a blur. It’s a 4X-16X-50mm ballistic scope. It’s meant for long ranges, and the room was too short. “The scope will be too much for the .17,” I commented, mostly to myself. “The round will only go about two hundred yards.” Then I broke open the gun and looked down the barrel. I could tell that the factory oil had already been cleaned out.
“One hundred if you want decent accuracy,” Carmine replied with a nod. Then he shook his head with just the slightest hint of annoyance. “Shame we couldn’t save the other barrel, but the 6mm was tagged by Lieutenant Sommers. He found the shell casing in a drain in the garage where you took out Prezza’s hitman last summer. He had you cold on that job. Not one of your better efforts, Tony. It’s almost a good thing that Leo tried to kill you. You would have had to hightail it anyway. I know we were pressed for time on the job, but you left a witness alive, forgot the shell, and left a paper trail on the gun. Sloppy work.”
I felt my jaw set. I couldn’t disagree, but I had to at least defend myself. “I didn’t forget the shell, Carmine, it rolled into a sealed drain. I would’ve needed a blowtorch or a crowbar to get it out. And as for the woman, I could have killed her, but I didn’t think she would freak out that much when I offed the guy raping her.”
Carmine shrugged. “Whatever. You know the saying, Tony—‘No good deed goes unpunished.’ Still, you got the hitter. That’s what counts. Prezza’s been laying low since then. That’s why I bought the new barrel. You earned it. Go ahead, take them all. They’ve been sanitized. New serial numbers—the works.”
I snapped the Thompson closed and returned it to the holster. I placed it back in the file storage box with the other guns. “What about the package I left with Jocko? Did Linda and Mike get that, too?”
Carmine snorted and shook his head. He smelled of soured milk and black coffee. “Can’t imagine why you stored it with him, but yeah, we’ve got it.” He opened another cabinet and removed a carton that was about fifteen inches by thirty inches. It was an effort for him to lift it onto the counter for me to see. “They sell these at Kmart, you know. You don’t need to hoard
them.”
I grinned at him as I stared at the heavy cardboard carton. “Had you fooled, huh? It’s not what you think it is.”
I glanced in the box and removed one of the smaller packages inside. Eight D-cell batteries were encased in their original half-box, but with different shrinkwrap—added after my modifications. I tore open the plastic with a fingernail and removed two of the batteries. I raised them to my nose and sniffed. Easy with my new senses to tell the difference, but even to a layman, it’s pretty clear. I tossed one of the batteries to him and he caught it.
“Notice anything?” He turned it over in his hands, and then shrugged.
“Not a thing. It’s a battery. So?”
“How about this one, then?” I tossed the second one and he caught it, as well. But the look on his face as he did was worth the effort.
“What the hell?” He tossed one up in the air with one hand and then did the same with the other. He looked closely at the second battery, turning it over more than once. “How come it’s heavier?”
I pulled the knife from my pocket and slid it under the wrapping of the fourth battery in the pack, not the third. A quick slice revealed the secret.
“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Carmine as the shiny gold caught the overhead lights. “Those are Krugerrands.”
“Yep. Twenty of them per battery. Four in each pack of eight through the whole carton.”
If he bothered with the math he’d know there was probably worth a mil and a quarter’s worth. He reached out and pulled one of the gold coins from inside the metal wrap of the battery. The positive and negative terminals were barely glued onto light-weight aluminum spacers to get the perfect height. It had taken a lot of time to build them, but his face and scent made it worth the effort. “Why only four in each pack? You could fit a lot more.”