Out of nowhere three jets in formation shot across the blue of the sky before disappearing behind them with a tearing clap of thunder. John glanced at the side mirror to his right to watch the military machines race behind the city skyline. He was just about to ask Vanessa if it was normal for planes like that to be flying so low but was quickly silenced by a discovery in the rear traffic.
Unless he was imagining things, sitting in the front seats of the second car behind them were the men from the restaurant. John felt his mouth start to dry as he pushed down on the button to adjust the mirror. The traffic was still only just moving. The car, a silver late model Mercedes that appeared to shimmer in the heat, looked as though it was trying to edge its way into the next lane. For the moment he was more curious than anything else. The FBI had approached him loud and clear already with their wants, so following him now didn’t seem to make any real sense. If it was agents sitting there in the traffic, what were they hoping to gain? And if it wasn’t anything to do with last night’s visitors, who the hell was it?
Either way, he wasn’t exactly comfortable with the sudden tailgate. When he was on a job he definitely preferred to keep his activities private. There was probably no reason in the world to think his safety was a concern, but there was also no reason for anybody to be following him.
“Can I ask you a question Vanessa?” he asked with eyes locked on the side mirror.
“Shoot honey, there’s nothing you can’t ask me.”
“This is gonna sound crazy, believe me, but there’s a couple of guys in one of the cars behind us and I’m pretty certain they’ve been following us from the hotel.”
“No arguments from me, that is a crazy thing to be sayin’. Why on God’s earth would anyone be bothered to follow us into a traffic jam?”
“That’s a good fucking question.” John took one last look as best he could then shifted his focus back to the road in front. “I saw them at breakfast this morning and they weren’t exactly there to eat. There’s a nice fat bonus if you can lose them somehow.”
“Is that the question?”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“So in a city you’ve never been before where nobody knows who you are, you have breakfast in a hotel like any hungry tourist and suddenly you’re being followed? I can’t see any sense in that, but you point ‘em out and I’ll make sure they wonder why they got out of bed this morning.”
As casually as he could he pointed to the rear view mirror. “Second car back, silver Mercedes. The driver’s got a shaved head. You see them?”
Vanessa edged forward a little more and then glanced at the mirror. The expression on her face told John that she only half believed him.
“Sure,” she nodded, “I can see ‘em.”
“So have we got any sort of chance of losing them in this traffic?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, driving is what I do.” She scanned the surrounding area with a new heightened focus. “I don’t know if you’re just seeing things or something, but you betta hang on.”
A second later John realized she’d meant it. With a sudden whine of the engine she aimed straight between two cars to their right before bouncing onto the cracked concrete walkway. A series of horns blasted with a united fury as they were jolted back and forth in their seats. She pushed down harder on the accelerator and only just managed to avoid the light poles that threatened to stop them in their tracks. John found himself gripping the side of his chair as they pushed forward, darting past the traffic before bouncing back onto the road and taking a right with enough speed to cause the rear tyre to cry out. With a hand that hardly worked, she was doing one hell of a job.
A strange yet familiar sense of excitement surged along with John’s racing heart. They rushed through a red light and then took a left turn, giving him took the opportunity to look through the back window. He could just make out the Mercedes weaving amongst the traffic in a desperate attempt to keep within throwing distance of them.
“Can you still see your friends?” Vanessa asked with eyes locked onto the road.
“They’re slipping further back, but still there.”
“Well I’ll be...”
More horns blasted as they slipped onto the wrong side of the road, then the tyres were put to the test again as Vanessa pulled down on the wheel as hard as she could, one screaming turn into another until John was dizzy from the constant shift in motion. Eventually, and thankfully, they entered a one way lane and reduced speed. Looking in the mirror and then over his shoulder to be sure, he saw no other cars behind them. A minute later and they were back out in the slow moving traffic. He’d seen his fair share of car chasing back when he was in uniform, but he hadn’t seen anybody handle a vehicle so confidently for a long time. And just to finish things off with an exclamation point, she’d pulled it off using only one hand. To say he was impressed was a severe understatement.
He checked the mirrors again just to make sure. The Mercedes was nowhere to be seen, triggering the muscles along his spine to relax a little as wiped the sweat from his forehead. The morning was beginning to prove the testament that if something was going to happen, it was going to happen quickly.
“You should be a getaway driver,” John said.
“Believe me, you wouldn’t be the first person to suggest that.”
“No, something tells me I wouldn’t be.”
“It ain’t none of my business,” she said a little breathlessly, “but I can’t imagine why a guy who travels with a cat has me tearing around a city he doesn’t know to get away from god knows who. You get in some sort of trouble last night or something?” She jammed on the brakes and stopped dead on the road. “Should I be worried about having you in my car?”
“For all I know those guys might’ve just been packing cameras.”
“Then again maybe not,” she suggested. “Hard to imagine they were after a hello and a photo.”
“To be honest I’ve got no idea.” He adjusted the fan to blow cool air on his face a little harder as they slowly began to move again. “Either way, thanks to you we don’t have to worry about finding out. I hope this little request of mine doesn’t stop you wanting to be my driver.”
“Are you serious right now?” Vanessa remarked with a mischievous grin. “I’d be happy to lay down rubber all day.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll get the chance again.”
Now that the adrenaline was beginning to simmer back down he started to wonder just who the hell they were and what the fuck they were doing following him. Maybe, he theorised, it was a case of mistaken identity somehow? Unlikely, but it was possible. There sure as hell wasn’t any other solid reason for the sudden interest he was being shown.
“I’m guessing you probably want to turn around and head back for the hotel?” he asked with obvious disappointment.
“You don’t get to get rid of me that easy.” She took a moment to adjust her hair in the mirror. “Besides, I already know where I wanna take you. Oh, and don’t go forgetting about that bonus you owe me!”
“Believe me, I won’t forget.”
Vanessa nodded with approval as they snaked their way along the edges of the city, the conversation falling silent. John continued to check over his shoulder every few minutes and, sure that the breakfast watchers were gone, wondered where it was that she might be taking him. With any luck it would be a nice air conditioned bar. His nerves were beginning to tingle, and a shot of something strong would definitely hit the right spot.
Overhead another formation of military jets tore high across the city landscape as Vanessa took one last turn and pulled into one of the few available parking spaces. Looking out the window into the blazing sun, John could see the street was lined with shop fronts on either side. From what he could tell the majority were either delicatessens or clothing stores, though they were the kind of stores that had steel bars across the windows and signs promising that the owners had the means, and weren’t afraid, to shoot. If there was a
bar anywhere though, he couldn’t see it.
“Here we are,” Vanessa announced. “You said I could pick anywhere.”
She jumped out of the car leaving John to quickly follow while looking up at a weather beaten, rusting sign that seemed to be barely hanging on to brittle nails.
Inner Strength Gym and Fitness.
“Follow me,” Vanessa instigated, pushing open a wooden door with peeling red paint. “You’re well and truly off the tourist map now.”
He looked up and down the street and then traced Vanessa’s steps through the doorway. The first thing that greeted them was a stair case that was barely shoulder width wide and bathed in dark shadows thrown from a single flickering light high above them. Paint peeled from the cracked walls and the wooden steps groaned beneath their weight.
When they reached the first floor the light grew brighter and a huge open area greeted them, dominated by a boxing ring with sweat stained canvass flooring and various punching bags and scattered weights. At first sight it appeared empty, but John quickly spotted a lone figure sitting on a chair in the corner with book in hand. His face was decorated with lines and scars that only a lifetime of hard living and violence could bring, and although he appeared ancient the blue eyes that were sunk into his skull seemed to shine from across the room in a way that was usually reserved for the innocence of youth. At the appearance of Vanessa he chuckled and lowered the book onto his lap.
“Well I’ll be! When you finished up this morning you didn’t say you’d be coming back so quickly.” The air seemed to punch out from his throat and echoed across the room like subtle thunder. “Caught me right when the chapter was getting good.”
“Sorry about that Sammy,” Vanessa apologised. “Just thought I’d drop by with a friend, show him where the demons come out.”
“Come one Nessy,” Sammy laughed, “only thing demonic in this here slice of paradise is the god damn tax bills that keep on comin’.”
“We both know there’s no slaying them beasts,” she laughed. “This here is John, and he’s a man with secrets all the way from Australia.”
“Australia? Hell, I threw some punches over there near fifty years ago,” Sammy said proudly. “Only time in my life I ever left this country. Make yourself at home son. Sorry if I don’t get up from this here chair, the old legs decided they gonna give me a little grief today.”
John nodded hello as his nose adjusted to the old leather scent that seemed to soak from the walls. “Quite a set up you have here.”
“What, this old place? Take a photo and it’ll still come out black and white.”
Vanessa marched across the room to a row of steel lockers that were almost brown with rust and scarred with remnants of long faded stickers. She retrieved a set of deep green gloves and matching head gear, and then walked to a small storage closet to grab another set. Sammy continued to quietly chuckle in his chair and watched as she returned and handed John the tattered gloves and torn head case.
“Okay mister policeman, allow me to show you how we do things in Miami.”
John couldn’t hide his confusion as he reluctantly accepted the gear.
“What exactly do you want me to do with these?” he asked.
“I want you to glove up and jump in that ring.”
“You’re serious?”
“It’ll be fun, I promise.”
“I sure as hell wasn’t expecting anything like this,” he laughed.
“I wasn’t expecting to be shaking a tail this morning either,” Vanessa smiled back while effortlessly donning her gloves and sliding through the ropes. Wrapped tightly in leather her damaged hand was no longer a visible feature, and curly hair was scrunched beneath the head gear that left only her eyes and bottom jaw exposed.
Sammy observed with growing curiosity as John stood motionless, gloves held against his stomach. The sudden scenario wasn’t exactly helping with the disorientation that had already stained the day, but there was also the knowledge that he hadn’t done any training for some time now. Hell, just moments ago he could almost taste the drink that he’d figured was on the cards.
“You need some help?” Vanessa asked, bringing his attention back to the boxing ring.
“I think I’ve got this.”
He slid the musty smelling head protector on and squeezed his hands into the mits. They were stiff and a touch small but not overly uncomfortable, leaving him to try to remember when he’d last worn a pair and figured maybe just before he’d turned in his badge. With a deep breath and a shrug of his shoulders he stepped forward and lifted himself into the ring. From his chair in the corner, Sammy called out in his deep, slightly shaking voice.
“Best be keeping your feet moving son, Nessy quicker than she looks.”
“Appreciate the tip,” John answered as he stood on the canvass with arms resting against his body.
Vanessa jogged on the spot for a few seconds and then lifted her hands.
“I bet they didn’t offer this in your travel agency,” she laughed with wide, concentrating eyes. “All you gotta do is land three of your best and the drinks will be on me.”
“You’re not mucking around, are you?” John asked as he half heartedly moved into a boxing stance.
“It’s not every day a girl like me gets to rumble a little with a cop from down under.”
Quick as a flash she stepped forward and sent a jab into his chin. There wasn’t a lot of power in it, but not only did it catch John by surprise it also hinted at the power she could have delivered. Another quick jab brushed against his cheek and now the adrenaline was beginning to kick in as he brought his gloves closer to his face and began to move his feet. Sammy was right when he said Vanessa moved fast.
They began to slowly circle each other, John still tentative at the prospect of reaching out for an impact. Vanessa could see his hesitation and leaned forward with a controlled flurry of punches that he managed to deflect as the sound of impacting leather cracked across the room. Being nestled so tight in the glove her damaged hand was now a functioning weapon that seemed intent on bringing true her promise of a Miami kiss. When she shuffled to the side and sent another swing his way instinct took over and he blocked and threw a punch of his own. Vanessa ducked it with ease.
“I saw that one coming in yesterday’s paper,” she managed through a quick breath.
John rolled his shoulders and began to watch her gloves with a new intensity. It was becoming evident that the only way out was to land the three punches she’d asked for, but now he wasn’t so sure it was going to be as easy he thought just seconds ago. She moved like someone who had dropped more than just a few beads of sweat on the canvass, and although she maintained a half smile while her feet continued to shift her weight it was more than obvious that she wasn’t concerned with holding back.
“So tell me mister policeman,” she continued between jabs, “what are you really doing over here? I’ve got a real funny feeling it ain’t no normal holiday.”
John offered a few jabs of his own but found her reflexes were one step ahead. He pulled back a little and watched for a better way in as his heart pumped harder and harder.
“I’m guessing you’re not going to be happy with some bullshit story,” he ventured.
“Not likely.”
She ducked her head and surged forward. Three solid punches crashed into the side of his ribs but as she leaned back he released a right hook that slapped against her head gear. Instantly he regretted the action and was just about to apologise when she responded with a series of lightning strikes that pushed him back towards the rope. Damn, he thought, this girl is downright dangerous.
“Okay,” he attempted to laugh, “I’ll let you in on the big secret.”
“I’m listening.”
He kept his distance for the moment to settle down his breathing. “Back home, just north of Sydney, a rich old man decided he wanted to pay me to fly over here and find his wife.” His rhythm was starting to flow and the next few punches he de
flected with ease. “He thinks she’s caught up with some people she shouldn’t be, and wants me to bring her home. So now you know what I do and why I’m here.”
Vanessa nodded behind her gloves and began to circle again. “You said you were a cop so what happened, you get fired or something? You dirty? Cause it sure didn’t take you long to have people interested in what you doin’ judging by our little traffic dance.”
“I wasn’t fired.” John felt the warmth of blood rushing to his cheeks and skipped forward with a fake left followed by a swinging right that clipped the edge of her chin. That was two. “I handed in my badge when it was obvious I wasn’t making a change.”
“So helping this old man out means you can make a change?”
“No,” he shot back, “it means I can make some money.”
They were both starting to sweat now, but if the punch he’d just landed had hurt she sure wasn’t letting it show. Suddenly she jumped forward and let her fists fly, body shots followed with head shots that John struggled to block as a solid impact shook his forehead. Before he could respond she had bounced back out of reach.
“So what about you?” he managed between gulps of air. “You’ve got the face of an angel that seems to be hiding a rage that could fuel a volcano.”
“In this here concrete jungle you’re either a victim or a survivor, and there’s no surviving without knowing how to carry yourself.”
He edged his way closer to her sphere, looking for an opening. “What happened to your hand, is that what made you learn to fight like this?”
Her eyes narrowed against the leather and her chest heaved. For a split second John was about to lower his gloves but instead he found himself fighting to hold back a ferocious barrage of blows that knocked the wind from his lungs and forced his feet to rebalance.
“I wasn’t exactly truthful about what happened,” Vanessa revealed with a roll of her neck. “When my man busted my hand I called my mom to come and get me, me pretty much being still a kid and all. Well she came storming in like a hell cat ready to protect her daughter and things turn real nasty.” She slid forward and lifted her shoulders, but John was ready this time and pushed her back with quickly timed hands. Vanessa breathed in deep and composed herself. “I did what I could but it wasn’t enough. He stabbed her to death while I watched. Looked me in the eyes when she took her last breath.” She raised her gloves as sweat glistened across the top of her cheeks. “I ain’t never going to be helpless like that again.”
The Hallucigenia Project Page 17