Geek Mafia: Mile Zero

by Dakan

  "The guy in charge is a real dick!" Eddie's recorded voice boomed through the room. He'd been talking to Sandee at the party about Isaiah when he said it. Bee and Paul had pulled out a bunch of choice sound bites for this little light show.

  "He sure is," Paul said into the microphone. "You sure are."

  Eddie pointed at the screen and shouted back, "What the fuck is this horse shit?"

  "I'm just letting you know what everyone else around you knows, Eddie. You are a real dick." Paul hit another sound bite from the list.

  "I'm so fucking smart you see..." Recorded Eddie said this time.

  "Well," said Paul. "Not so fucking smart. Not smart enough to keep your mouth shut when you should." He clicked a third clip.

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  "Not like these other fucks like that black fuck and that old guy and the other fuck. All their crazy pie-in-the-sky bullshit," The drunken voice of Recorded Eddie slurred through the speakers.

  "I guess I'm the other fuck," Paul said. "Which would make Isaiah the Black Fuck' who's a dick,' right?"

  Paul watched on the screen as Eddie spun around in fury, looking for someone to hit. "This is bullshit!" he shouted. "You can't just take shit out of..."

  But Paul wasn't about to let Eddie argue his case. This wasn't a trial, it was a sentencing. He clicked again and started another clip. "Always trouble. Always telling people what to do and shit," Eddie's voice said. Then Paul replayed the first clip, "The guy in charge is a real dick!"

  "Sounds like you don't get along with your new partners very well at all," said Paul. "I'll tell you, when we played this for Isaiah, he wasn't too pleased."

  "Then fuck Isaiah!" Eddie shouted. "Fuck him for being that stupid. Fuck his liberal nigger ass! This is all bullshit! You obviously just cut some shitty out-of-context tape together. If you really ever did play this for him, he'd see right through it! He's not that stupid."

  Paul glanced over at Bee, who was working off her own laptop. She nodded and he nodded back. Bee unplugged a FireWire connection from his machine and plugged into hers and then hit her play button.

  Eddie's voice rang out through the speaker system once again, replaying part of what he'd just said, "Fuck Isaiah! Fuck him for being that stupid. Fuck his liberal nigger ass!"

  "He's just gonna love hearing that," Paul said into the microphone.

  "Oh come on!" said Eddie. "This is such bullshit." He started to walk back toward the way he'd come, but Paul wasn't done yet.

  "Wait," said Paul, as Bee plugged his laptop back into the control system. "There's more. Watch." Eddie stopped and looked at the projection of himself on the wall. As soon as he did, Paul clicked to change the image. It was a shot of the interior of the empty store they'd just been in a few minutes earlier. Amelia and Jeanie stood there looking up at the camera (which was hidden in a smoke detector). Standing next to them was Marco. All three waved. In fact, neither Amelia nor Jeanie had known anything about the camera or Paul and Chloe's set up in the Pirate Museum. Only Marco had any idea, but Eddie couldn't possibly know that.

  Paul thought he heard Eddie express some sort of horror or anger under his breath, but the microphones weren't close enough for him to hear the actual words. Paul could imagine his surprise though. "We played our little tapes for Isaiah and your buddy Marco too. Everyone agreed that you're a dick." In truth Isaiah hadn't seen anything at all, nor had Amelia. But her presence at the store actually worked in Paul's favor. "So we're cutting you out."

  Paul clicked and the image changed again. It was a shot of the interior of the hotel room where Eddie was staying. It showed Sandee, dressed much like he'd been the night he met Eddie at the party, sitting seductively on Eddie's bed with a laptop Eddie would surely recognize as his own. "Your friends sold you out, Eddie,"

  Paul said. "Or rather, cut you loose." This was actually a simple piece of Photoshop work - Sandee had never been in Eddie's room.

  Another image came on the screen. It was the Big Guy, whose name they now knew was actually Wally, even though he'd introduced himself to Chloe in the bar as Quentin. His friends called him The Whale. The picture, taken less than an hour earlier according to the time stamp, showed Wally and Marco talking. Wally's face Chapter 39

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  was all red and swollen from the tear gas and pepper-spray. It then morphed into a second picture of the two of them flipping the camera off.

  "Even The Whale isn't behind you anymore," said Paul over the loudspeaker. "He too thinks you're a dick. We talked for a while. He's actually pretty cool." They hadn't talked at all, but Eddie didn't know that. In fact, it was Marco who'd sent him the pics, taken while he was giving The Whale orders that would keep him busy tonight.

  Eddie blew up into a rage, grabbing one of the baseball bats from his mook's hands. He swung it wildly, breaking off a fake lantern from the side of the fake ship. "Come out here you fuck! Come out here and fight like a man! This is such BULLSHIT!" He swung again, slamming the bat down into the ship's railing, but not causing any real damage. Paul was very glad that Eddie had dropped his gun on their living room floor when the gas grenade went off.

  "No," said Paul into the microphone. "It's not bullshit. It's us taking you down. It's me cutting you out. It's not what I wanted to have happen, but it is what you forced to happen. It's plan B."

  He clicked another audio clip and Eddie's recorded voice filled the room one more. "Don't you know anything? You've gotta have a plan B in this business."

  Eddie took a wild swing at the air, barely missing one of his own guys then. He'd obviously totally lost it at this point. He was screaming in utter, wordless rage. The two flunkies tried to restrain him, shouting for him to calm down, but he shrugged them off. With someone physical to focus his anger on he swung again, this time connecting with his Crewmate's shoulder and knocking him to the ground. The other one backed away, hands in the air.

  "Come on, Eddie," he said. "Calm..."

  "FUCK ALL OF YOU!" Eddie shouted, and hurled his bat at the other man. He dodged the flying hunk of wood and scampered off back toward the exit. Eddie turned back toward the screen and shouted again,

  "FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCKS! I'll fucking kill all of you!"

  That's when Chloe came in and blasted him with the shotgun.

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  Chapter 40

  IT was the longest they'd slept in days - a full eight hours. The house still stank of tear gas, so they'd checked into a room at Eden House for what remained of the night and all the next morning. Fueled by adrenaline and the excitement that came with victory, Paul and Chloe had fucked liked crazy as soon as they got to their room. And then, of course, sleep. Blessed, blessed, sleep.

  Now, in the afterglow of hot sex and restful sleep, he took some time to replay the pervious night's events in his mind. He was, with good reason, damn fucking proud of what they'd managed to pull off.

  He and Chloe had met with Marco six hours before they walked into the empty storefront to meet Jeanie. He'd been wary of talking with Paul, fearing a set-up, and it'd taken some fast talking and some big promises to get him to come to meet in a very public restaurant. In order to get free from Eddie's watchful and paranoid eye, Marco told him that Amelia wanted to talk technical details with him, knowing full well that Eddie hated technical details and would send Marco to the meeting alone. Paul hadn't been sure how Eddie would react to his proposal, but the fact that he came at all was a good sign. Marco was embarrassed by the fiasco at Paul's house and was obviously very pissed at Eddie for going crazy like that.

  Paul laid out his case: that Raquel's death had been an accident and that Eddie was a loose cannon. If he agreed to help them take down Eddie, then they would do everything in their power to put Eddie in charge and together they could convince Isaiah to make sure Jeanie's crew assumed Raquel's seat on the board. Marco, skeptical and wary, asked a lot of questions, especially about Jacob and Winston and what exactly Paul wanted to do t
o Eddie. Marco didn't think much of his partner, but he didn't want to hurt the guy and certainly didn't want anyone to end up in jail. He agreed to withdraw his support from Eddie and to talk to other Crewmembers, but he said that they needed to find a way to draw Eddie out and make him do something stupid again. Most of them had grown tired of the man's temper and shenanigans, but The Whale remained loyal - he'd only give up on Eddie if everyone else did too.

  Paul had assured Marco that he had just the thing in mind. Marco met with The Whale and Chloe took their pics from hiding which they'd then used in the pirate museum. Marco gave the Whale a line about the police being after him and sent him off to Miami until the heat died down, taking his cell phone and credit cards from him so the cops couldn't trace them and giving him some cash to tide him over until the Crew came to get him in a few days. Still aching and sick from his rough treatment at the Crew house, he'd apparently been glad for the chance to rest. Meanwhile, Paul and Bee set up things at the pirate museum. Then it was time to call Jeanie.

  The risky part was involving Jeanie. Eddie had brought her in, so she might have some loyalty to the man. On the other hand, Paul and Sandee had saved her life, and he hoped that might count for something in her eyes.

  At the very least it was enough to get a face-to-face meeting with her. Paul told her Marco would be there too as a kind of neutral observer. The plan was to show Jeanie how unstable Eddie was and to have Marco make her an offer. With her backing, Marco, The Whale and the rest of Eddie's crew would see that sticking with their bat-shit crazy leader was going to cause them trouble and cost them money - and maybe even lead to a direct conflict with Jeanie's crew.

  Then all Marco had to do was return to the hotel and tell Eddie that Jeanie had gotten a call from Paul and that they'd set up a meeting. Eddie himself demanded that they come along in secret to ambush Paul and Chloe. As it turned out, he also invited Isaiah to send along someone as well, which would've been a smart move if Paul wasn't already two moves ahead of him. When Amelia had shown up by surprise, it worked all the better.

  They'd been transmitting a feed of everything Eddie said in the museum to Marco's laptop, and Marco had later told Paul that she'd been disgusted with Eddie's behavior, giving Marco even more data to convince his fellow Crewmembers that keeping Eddie around would be a grave error.

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  Paul looked at the time on his phone. Just past two in the afternoon. He wished they had room service here, but they didn't. A dip in the pool sounded nice. Maybe lie out in the sun for an hour or so. He looked down at Chloe's naked body, spread out on her stomach below him as he caressed her back. On second thought, it would be a shame to put clothes on. Maybe they could order a pizza to their room...

  "We need to go soon," Chloe said. And she was right. They were supposed to meet Isaiah and everyone else at 5:00 p.m..

  "Pretty soon," he agreed, "but not yet. How's your hearing?"

  "Fine. When I woke up, the ringing was gone. That shotgun is fucking loud."

  "I told you."

  "Yeah, but I didn't believe you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because you've never fired a shotgun," she said.

  "Yeah, but I've seen movies. Read books. I was right, wasn't I?"

  "Yes, dear, you were right." She smiled. "I - I who have shot a shotgun before, mind you, just not indoors - I for some reason didn't think the beanbag load would be as loud."

  "Is it the same amount of gunpowder?" Paul asked. The gun, which belonged to Party bartender Jesse, had been loaded with beanbag rounds. Instead of slugs or buckshot, it fired a small beanbag with tremendous force. Chloe had hit Eddie in the face from about fifteen feet away, breaking his nose and knocking him on his ass. She was lucky she hadn't blinded him, but she'd been aiming at his chest and he ducked.

  "I don't know," she said. "I didn't ask. It was enough to be loud. And to leave my shoulder a little sore. Is there a bruise?" She rolled over onto her back and pointed to the barely visible bruise. Paul kissed the sore spot gently and then moved his mouth down to her nipple.

  "I know that's not bruised," she said softly, running a hand through his hair.

  He gave her a playful bite, just the way she liked it. "Not yet," he said.

  "You're a bad man," she replied.

  "The worst," he agreed and then moved to her other nipple.

  "The worst?" she asked.

  Another light bite. "Yep."

  She spread her legs and pushed his head south. "Well then, do your worst."

  "Gladly," he said, kissing his way down her stomach.

  THEY were ten minutes late to the meeting at Isaiah's. For once it was actually at a location which could be described as "Isaiah's." The house was in the southeast corner of Old Town, an unassuming place that no one Chapter 40

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  would look at twice as they walked down the street. Paul himself must've walked the street a dozen or more times without paying it any mind. He wondered who it belonged to.

  Inside, it was larger than he'd thought it would be, with a single great room along its south side that ran the length of the house. It was one of the bigger and more beautiful sunrooms Paul had ever seen. Blonde, hardwood floors waxed to a glossy sheen with a scattering of Persian rugs to break up the space into discreet areas. The room contained four different couches and numerous, low padded chairs. It reminded Paul of the lounge in some tropical gentlemen's club from the 19th century.

  Isaiah was standing at the far end of the room, by the bar, watching them as they walked down the length of the room. Nearby stood Marco, Jeanie and Winston, along with Amelia. Throughout the room were an alarming number of people Paul had never seen before. Although he recognized the man who'd met them at the door as the same Crewmember who'd stood guard at the La Concha on the first night, Paul had never seen any of these others before. There were eleven other men and women scattered around the room, none of whom he recognized. All of them wore similar clothes - khaki pants, dark olive or black shirts, black boots.

  They looked like an army at ease. How many people did Isaiah bring with him to Key West? Paul had to assume there were still more out of sight.

  "Quite a show of force," Chloe whispered into his ear.

  Paul nodded, looking at Isaiah and smiling as he did so. He was nervous all of a sudden. No one was armed, no one looked unusually dangerous, but the whole atmosphere had just taken on an air of real menace. That didn't make any sense did it? Paul couldn't think of any flaws in his plan that might have left them exposed to Isaiah's wrath. Then again, it's not like he actually knew much about Isaiah...

  "Come on in, friends," Isaiah said to them from across the room. "Join the party."

  "This is quite a place," Chloe said as they strode past Isaiah's cadre of similarly dressed Crewmembers. "Sorry we didn't get the message about the dress code."

  Isaiah cracked the slightest of smiles. "No dress code required. We're all very informal here."

  Paul and Chloe reached the other end of the room and joined Winston, Marco and Jeanie where they stood around Isaiah and Amelia. Marco nodded at Paul, but his face was an emotionless mask, as were those of everyone else.

  "How is our friend Eddie?" Isaiah asked Paul.

  "He's on a slow boat to the Bahamas," said Paul. "Well, I guess not too slow. It's a cruise ship. But he's on his way."

  "The steward helped you out?" Marco asked.

  "Just like you said he would," Paul affirmed. "Eddie's locked in one of the crew cabins and will be tossed ashore with a couple hundred bucks in cash."

  "We left him a perfectly fair severance package in one of the Crew accounts," Marco interjected. "The rest of our assets have all been moved out of his reach. Once he finds a way to get to Grand Cayman, he can get his money."

  "And you're sure he poses no future risk to the rest of us?" Isaiah asked. "The man's going to want to get even, especially with you and Paul here. Revenge is a powerful motivator."

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  "I'm sure he's pissed off," said Marco. "But there's not much he can do. For the past year I've been building a buffer between him and all our contacts. He doesn't know who they are exactly, and they don't know him. He called the shots, but I made the business happen. Without me, he's going to be lost out there."

  "And we shall all endeavor to be very hard to find," Isaiah concluded. "Ultimately this little internecine struggle between you two is none of my business. I know why it happened, and while I find it all more than a little distasteful, I'm not going to argue with the results."

  Paul suspected that what Isaiah found distasteful was the fact that Eddie hadn't actually done anything wrong.

  It was the false accusations Paul and Winston had leveled against him that drove him to respond with violence and general prickishness in the first place. He knew that if Eddie had been a nicer guy or if Marco hadn't proved so cooperative, Isaiah would never have accepted their little coup so easily. That's what you get for being a dick.

  Isaiah continued, "But this is all largely irrelevant to the larger issues at hand. The first issue being, of course, justice for Raquel's murderer. I understand that you have the responsible party?"

  "Yes," said Paul. "As I told you. And as I'm sure Eddie told you as well. We took the man into custody yesterday and we're currently holding him at a safe house of ours."

  Isaiah turned to Winston, "And this man worked for you, right?"

  "With me, yes," said Winston. "And he's a good man."

  "He's a murderer," Isaiah replied.

  "It was a confrontation that spiraled out of control," Winston insisted. "He never intended to kill her. He followed her, she set a trap for him, they fought, and in the course of things, she hit her head."

  "He hit her head," said Isaiah.

  "Her head was hit and, sadly, she died. He then, without my knowledge, moved the body to her hotel room with the help of another compatriot, and he went into hiding, afraid of becoming involved with the police."