So much for the element of surprise.
They walked down a dimly lit, painted cinderblock hallway that smelled of old dust and mustiness. Above them, fluorescent lights flickered as they approached a well-lit office area.
“You’re not supposed to use that door,” the red-headed woman at the desk said with a South Boston accent, flipping the page of a magazine. She glanced at them through her oversized glasses. Her head snapped up and she looked at them a second time with scrutiny. Blake saw the magazine dip as her left hand moved to the underside of the desk drawer.
“Patricia,” Radoslav said with enthusiasm and open arms. “It is good to see you again.” The woman shook her head, her face ablaze with panic. Her hand returned to the desk surface and grasped the magazine. “You’re not welcome here, Radoslav,” she said. “You better turn around before there’s trouble.”
Radoslav chuckled. “Patricia, we already know there will be trouble, but trouble will be for Big Boss.”
Blake’s super hearing detected footsteps approaching from another room behind Patricia’s desk. “Company’s coming,” he announced softly.
Radoslav nodded. “Time to make sure we don’t get hurt, Dark Flame.”
Blake smiled. “With pleasure.”
The double doors behind and to the left of Patricia’s reception desk burst open and four armed enforcers hurried through, their eyes quickly finding Blake and Radoslav. Each one aimed an assault rifle at them. Behind them, a fifth man with slicked blonde hair and a dark, five o’clock shadow strode into the reception area. He wore a sharp business suit that looked both cheap and old.
“Radoslav!” the man said with surprise.
“Hello, Armen,” Radoslav answered.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Rad? We have orders to shoot you on sight.”
“I have different orders,” Radoslav said. “I intend to show my young friend here everything Big Boss is doing.
Armen’s eyebrows furled, and he shook his head, offering Blake a passing glance. “You’re kidding, right? You know that’s not going to happen—no offense, kid. Tell you what, Rad, because I’m having a good day, why don’t you turn around and walk out of here before we shoot both you.”
“Dark Flame,” Radoslav said grimly, “would you relieve these men of their weapons?”
“I’d be happy to,” Blake answered, smirking. He stepped forward and allowed the men to shift their aim at him. Then, he raised his right hand and pulled with his mind, ripping the rifles from their unsuspecting hands. The men cried out with surprise, and Patricia gasped, paralyzed with fear.
“What the hell?”Armen exclaimed, suddenly nervous.
Blake brought the rifles around so the business end of each weapon pointed at the face of the men who once wielded them.
“You don’t need to kill them,” Radoslav said.
Armen reached into his jacket, but Blake grabbed him with his mind and thrust him back against the concrete brick wall, crushing the man’s skull in the process. His head struck the wall with a sickening crack and his body slumped to the floor, unconscious or dead. Blood poured down the wall and dripped from his eyes and nose. Patricia stifled a terrified scream when Blake pointed at her.
“Here’s the part you need to understand, Radoslav. I don’t give a fuck anymore,” Blake replied. Then, a very loud bang echoed in the room as the four rifles fired simultaneously. Radoslav jumped at the loud sound and Patricia screamed, her entire body quaking with fear. Blood and brains splattered on the walls behind the four men and their bodies pitched backward and fell to the floor. Blake released the rifles and they clattered to the floor.
Blake looked at Patricia. “If you try anything, you’re next, so sit down, shut up, and don’t move.” Wait, I have a better idea.
The woman nodded and obeyed, nervously sitting at her desk. Blake took a step toward her and pointed at the center desk area. “I assume you pressed some kind of alarm button when I saw your hand move there?”
She nodded emphatically, her tightly curled red hair bouncing with her affirmation. “Yes, I hit a silent alarm that goes to the back office. That’s why they came out here.”
“Are you armed? Do you have guns in your desk?”
She nodded again, eyeing her desk. “Yes, I have a pistol in my right top desk drawer for defense.” Her voice shook with fear.
“Thank you for your honesty,” Blake responded. “If you want to live, I don’t want to see that gun. Understand?”
“Yes, yes, I definitely want to live. I won’t do anything, I promise. I’m suddenly feeling ill, perhaps I should just…go home for the day?”
“Smart decision.” Blake answered. “But use the back door we came through, and run.”
Patricia hesitated and stared at him.
“Go now,” Blake whispered.
She scrambled and grabbed her purse from the floor and pulled her coat off the rack. Then, she hurried down the hallway, her shoes clacking on the tile floor.
“Is always good to see you, Patricia,” Radoslav said, chuckling. “Come, Dark Flame, we don’t have much time. There will be more men heading our way when Armen doesn’t check in, not to mention the rather loud gunshot you made. I want you to see the…how-to-say…fabrica ascunsă…uh…hidden factory.”
This should be interesting…a hidden factory in a power plant?
Blake followed Radoslav through the double doors into a control room of some sort. Computers and massive instrument panels with blinking lights of various colors indicated their operational status. They looked old, but not as ancient looking as the ones in the Rangeley facility’s original reactor control room.
“Keep your eyes sharp; they’ll be coming for us. Especially once we walk through this door.” Radoslav said, pointing ahead of them.
“Okay,” Blake said.
Radoslav put his hand on the door and paused. “Dark Flame, what you will see is very disturbing to young eyes, and Big Boss won’t let us leave alive once you do.”
“Understood,” Blake responded. What the hell is behind the door?
Radoslav opened the door and Blake followed him into a large, warehouse-sized multi-level factory. Blake looked up and saw suspended gangways and other ramps that provided access to the old multi-story power equipment from which workers could monitor and maintain the power processes. He lowered his eyes and observed rows of conveyor belts, each pushing objects in various states of assembly or packaging around the factory floor.
Then, his eyes set upon the one-hundred or more light blue dust mask-wearing people working the assembly lines, sitting or standing at different stations. It looked like they assisted the machinery, double checked the quality of the product, or packed boxes for shipping.
“What are they doing?” Blake asked. This is a power plant, not a factory. Something isn’t right here.
“Repackaging drugs for distribution,” Radoslav answered.
At the same time, one of the guards on the gangway above them noticed their intrusion. He cried out and aimed his weapon at them. “Alarm!”
All heads in the factory turned and searched for the problem. As eyes turned to stare at them, Blake looked at the dirt-smeared faces of the workers and saw desperation in their eyes. There were Mexicans, Asians, and other ethnicities staring back at him with elderly eyes, middle-aged eyes, and children’s eyes.
“What the fuck? They have kids making this stuff?” Blake asked, looking at his guide.
Radoslav eyed him nervously and nodded. “It’s time you looked for the guards. They’ll be…”
“Code Red! Everyone down!” a guard shouted. The factory workers screamed in a cacophony of panic and dropped to the floor. A moment later, someone gave the order to shoot. Gunfire rang out and echoed in the all-metal and concrete power plant. Blake raised his hands and caught the bullets in midair, stopping them before they could hurt Radoslav. His eyes glowed orange and Radoslav stared at the hovering bullets in wonder, stepping closer to Blake.
&nbs
p; “I’m not going to stand for this,” Blake said loudly over the sound of the gunfire. “No one treats children like this and gets away with it. These people will pay for what they’ve done.”
Thirty seconds later the gunfire stopped, and the guards stared at them incredulously. Blake swiped his left hand across the suspended bullets and they clattered to the cement floor, the sharp pinging of metal echoing in the vast room around.
“Which one is the Big Boss?” Blake asked, his eyes tracking the guards around them.
“I do not see him.” Radoslav answered, looking around. “Big Boss is probably hiding in his office like coward.”
Blake nodded. “Fine, then we go to him. One way or the other, this ends now.”
“What will you do?” Radoslav asked.
“Watch and learn,” Blake answered. “But first, I need to take care of our new friends.”
“Fire again!” a guard yelled out. The sound of ammo magazines being changed out echoed across the factory as gunfire rang out again. Bullets whipped through the air and became stuck in Blake’s invisible snare. Seconds later, Blake carefully focused his powers and made a pretend gun with his right hand. Then, starting on the left side of his field of vision, he fired the bullets back with his imaginary hand gun. One by one, the guards dropped to the ground as bullets tore through their bodies. Several bloody moments later, twenty-seven criminal enforcers lay on the floor, seriously injured or dead, losing blood from returned bullets fired from their own weapons.
“How did you do that?” Radoslav asked, his face aghast.
“It’s complicated,” Blake answered. “Take me to Big Boss, now.”
Radoslav nodded and pointed to a set of stairs. “Up there.”
Blake traced the stairs up to the next level and saw a man in a light blue suit flanked by four heavily armed guards watching them from a glassed enclosure above the factory floor.
Blake and Radoslav made their way across the factory, the sound of whimpering women and children filling the air. Some of them thanked them, while others regarded Blake with fear. One of the women whispered, “Diablo,” and it made him smile.
“You should all leave,” Blake said loudly. The workers scrambled across the factory floor to the various exits in a strangely organized but panicked manner. Then, Blake led the way up to Big Boss’s office, his eyes locked through the glass windows with the eyes of the surprised and angry mob boss.
“What are you waiting for?” the man shouted to his guards. “Shoot them!”
The glass between them shattered into thousands of pieces as bullets streaked through the air. With his mind, Blake deflected the onslaught of bullets to his left and continued toward them. He wanted to use his fire powers, but he knew he would burn off the bespoke suit he was wearing. He didn’t bring a change of clothes and returning home nude might be problematic.
Blake’s eyes ignited and blazed with fiery orange fury as he reached out with his mind and grabbed the four henchmen. Then, he ripped them out of the office and pulled them through the shattered windows. They screamed as they flew through the air and fell to the other side of the factory floor.
Stunned, Big Boss dropped the pistol in his hands and backed away, terrified, until the office wall stopped him.
“You!” Blake shouted, pointing at the man. “What the hell is this place?” He felt rage against the injustice he witnessed building inside him.
Big Boss ignored him and focused on Radoslav. “What the fuck are you doing here, Rado, and who is this teenage punk?”
Radoslav silently walked to a chair and sat down. “This punk is your socoteală…your reckoning. Why don’t you explain to him what you do here, Arnold?”
Blake walked to the middle of the room where the man had dropped his gun. He picked it up and pointed it at the man. “Yes, Arnold, tell me exactly what you do here.”
Holding a gun against someone is very different than using my mind. I’m not sure if I like this.
Big Boss spat on the office floor before answering. “You can’t stop us. We will find you and we will take you down.” Blake shifted the gun and squeezed the trigger, firing at the wall next to Big Boss. The bullet struck the sheet rock, and a little cloud of dust exploded into the room. The man yelped with fear.
“I didn’t ask you for your opinion. I asked you what you did here.”
“We repackage the drugs and prep them for shipment. They come in on the cargo ships and we get them ready to be distributed to the dealers.”
“What kind of drugs?”
“Cocaine and heroin, usually with fentanyl. Actually, there’s a lot of fentanyl-laced drugs in this shipment.”
“Where do you distribute them to?”
“All over the place,” the man answered smugly, waving his hand around for effect.
Blake fired a second round into the wall. Sheetrock above the man’s head exploded from the wall. “Where?” he shouted.
The man shrieked and wet himself; his light blue suit darkening as urine soaked his crotch and ran down his thighs as fear took over. Tears rolled down his face. “All over New England. Schools, bad neighborhoods, junkies, anyone who will buy it. Like I said, everywhere.”
“Where do you get the women and children slaves who work for your factory?” Blake asked angrily. He felt himself becoming hot, but he controlled it. “Like the drugs, they’re smuggled in here.”
“What? From where?”
“From all over. You saw the diversity in there, right? They come here looking for a better life from impoverished countries and we make them pay for their visas.”
“What kind of visas?” Radoslav asked, a tone of amusement in his voice.
The man shrugged. “Fake visas, so they won’t be deported if they get caught. They stay around here and work in the factory until they can pay their dues.”
“And how long does that take?” Blake asked.
The man’s face contorted with annoyance and he shrugged. “That all depends on their deal. I dunno, it’s complicated. Each person has a unique arrangement.”
Blake fired a third round into the wall; the bullet struck the sheetrock two inches from the man’s head.
He screamed and ducked, then shouted an answer. “Six to twelve months. Some of them can’t pay, so they have to work here longer.”
Blake saw Big Boss’s eyes shift to something behind him. At the same time, Blake heard a piece of glass crack. Without turning around, he put up his hand as two guards fired at him. He caught the bullets and sent them back through the men’s chests. Surprised, they fell backward over the gangway railing to their death.
Blake stepped closer to Big Boss. “You are going to let these people go, do you understand me, Arnold?”
Big Boss whimpered and cried, shaking his head. “No. I can’t do that. You don’t understand, they’ll kill me. You think I’m in charge of this racket? You’ve got the wrong guy, kid.”
Blake tilted his head and studied the man for a moment. “They’ll kill you?”
“My bosses…” The man grunted in fear and cowered.
“Dark Flame, don’t.” Radoslav said, his voice low.
No, men like you can’t be allowed to live. Kill him now!
“Then I’ll find your bosses and I’ll make them suffer, too.” Blake shifted the gun to his left hand and wrapped his right hand around the man’s throat, his mind and heart seething with a mixture of hatred and envy of the power this man thought he wielded over those misfortunate souls.
Blake squeezed, but was taken aback when he saw blackness leaching into the man’s veins, creeping away from his tightening hand.
What the hell? This is new…
The man gasped and nonsensically swatted the air, unable to breathe normally. Confused, Blake looked at the man’s eyes, ready to threaten him again, but Big Boss’ eyes had turned light grey and he struggled to breathe.
More of the strange blackness filled the surface veins of the man’s now ashen-looking neck and facial skin. It seeme
d to wrinkle, contract, and tighten over the man’s bones and muscles, pulling his jaw down as his eyes opened in a ghastly display of horror. The man’s hands shook and his fingers curved into creepy claws, his hands a mixture of paling white skin and blackening veins.
All of a sudden, Blake felt a surge of life and energy pass into his body. Surprised, he let go and stepped back several feet. Immediately, Big Boss inhaled and the color returned to his eyes.
No, you don’t get off that easy. Eliminate him.
Blake dropped the gun in his left hand, aimed both hands toward Big Boss, and released the building heat in his body. Flames leapt out from his hands and fingers, incinerating Big Boss’ twisting body in a matter of seconds, scorching the wall around him.
When he finished, he lowered his hands and watched the bones and burning organic matter succumb to gravity.
Radoslav shook his head and watched the burnt corpse slide down the blacked wall to the floor. “You are lucky man. A mere tenth of that power would help me do my job much faster.”
“You didn’t try to stop me?” Blake said, breathing heavy from emotional exertion. He turned to face Radoslav, his eyes still glowing orange.
“I’m not stupid. Big Boss needed to be removed from the equation. Besides, I could not stop you, no?”
“No, you couldn’t” Blake responded. I’m glad we understand each other.
❖
Blake’s hands gripped the steering wheel of his BMW tightly as he slammed his foot on the brakes. When the car screeched to a stop, he slapped the stick into park and pressed the ignition start/stop button to kill the engine. Though he was on his way home to cry his emotions into his pillow, he turned around and decided to confront Victor immediately about the atrocity he witnessed.
Four security guards who normally rotated through the evening watch of the facility stared at him through the windshield. He opened the car door and stood, pulling on his jacket while slamming the door shut with his free hand. He looked up at the main tower and wondered. Where are you, Victor?
The Rise of Dark Flame Page 12