The Last Inferno

by Michael Cross

  “Thank you.”

  She sits forward again, that smile I know so well crossing her face again. “So where are you this time? And are you in danger of being shot again?” she presses. “I ask because I’d like to be able to manage my anxiety when I don’t hear from you for a while again.”

  I laugh. “At the present moment, I am not in danger of being shot,” I tell her. “I’m actually in a pretty swanky hotel room on the beach in Puerto Penasco.”

  “Where in the hell is that?” she asks. “And also? Nobody says swanky anymore. It’s not a thing and hasn’t been for like a hundred years.”

  “Swanky is still a thing.”

  “Okay, Boomer,” she chuckles. “Now, where is Puerto Penasco?”

  “It’s a resort town on the coast of the Gulf of California.”

  She quickly consults something on her phone, and I see her eyes widen. She looks back up, clenching her jaw and staring daggers at me. Her anger and concern radiate even across the hundreds of miles of cyberspace between us.

  “So, you’re going to give him a chance to finish the job he started in Seattle, huh?” she hisses. “That’s the only reason I can think that you’d be in Sonora, Echo. Do you have a death wish or something?”

  “No, but he shot me. He fired the first shots and—”

  She cackles, her laughter devoid of any trace of humor. “He started it? That’s what you’re going with?”

  “He is gunning for me, Justice. And you know how far the cartel reach is,” I protest. “If I don’t get him first, he’s most assuredly going to get me. I can’t have my head on a swivel twenty-four seven.”

  She opens her mouth to reply but closes it again, knowing that I’m right. It doesn’t seem to dissipate her frustration and worry all that much though. Her face is still pinched, her expression tight.

  “Whose idea was it for you to go down there?” she asks.

  “Ultimately, it was mine,” I tell her honestly. “Temperance laid out a case for doing this, and I made the decision that it needed to be done.”

  “So we’re trusting Temperance now?”

  “Didn’t say that. Just said that I made the choice to do this because I’m not about to live my life looking over my shoulder,” I press. “Which is what I’ll have to do with Vargas still running around out there.”

  She purses her lips and arches an eyebrow at me. “And what is it she’s getting out of it?”

  “A puppet she can control in charge of the cartel.”

  Justice rolls her eyes. “Gee, what can possibly go wrong there?”

  I chuckle. “One devil at a time,” I say. “We’ll deal with her later.”

  She cocks her head at me. “Oh we will, will we?”

  “Maybe. Depends on how things shake out with this,” I say. “But I’m definitely considering adding her to my to-do list. I don’t trust her farther than I can sling a piano.”

  “Because you are wise beyond your years, my friend,” she says. “But I am still so not loving the idea of you walking into that viper’s nest down your way.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Sure you will,” she cracks. “That rates right up there with, ‘the check’s in the mail,’ for me. Just so you know.”

  I chuckle. “Fair enough,” I respond. “Then I’ll be as careful as I can be.”

  “I guess under the circumstances, and since I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, that’s about the best I can hope for.”

  “Probably so,” I tell her. “Anyway, I’m sending you an email now with some particulars. Do you mind checking them out for me?”

  She sighs deeply. “Okay, but this means I’m getting a puppy to live here with me.”

  “Sure,” I offer. “Why not.”

  She sits and works for about five minutes, fingers flying across the keys, and then with a satisfied smirk, she turns back to me.

  “Wow, that was fast.”

  “Yeah, piece of cake,” she says. “Vargas’ estate subscribes to a U.S. based security company. Top of the line, of course.”

  “But not impenetrable.”

  “For some. But I’m not some,” she grins.

  “And for that I’m thankful.”

  “I’ve already hacked into their system. I own it,” she grins. “We can knock it out when needed.”

  I let out a small breath. Not that I expected her to have any difficulty. Justice’s talent is unrivaled as far as I’m concerned. The only person who comes close to being able to match her is Jafi.

  “Excellent,” I say. “And were you able to dig anything up on Ezra Kingston?”

  “Honestly, I wasn’t,” she said, sounding perplexed. “It’s baffling as hell to me. But it’s like this guy doesn’t exist. Are you sure it’s not a cover ID?”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s definitely not a cover. Besides, even cover IDs usually have a paper trail to back it up,” I say and scratch at my beard. “Nothing? Really? I thought everything on the Internet was forever.”

  “You’re assuming he was ever on the Internet for anything. He obviously never put up a video or commented on Yelp, or even had any kind of social media,” she points out. “But even still, there are ways to carefully scrub things. You have to know what you’re doing, but you can make things disappear.”

  I lean back and pull on my bottom lip as I think about it. I suppose in my former life; I wouldn’t have been keen on putting my name in the public sphere, to begin with. Whoever put out the burn notice on me would have a vested interest in making me disappear. And whoever it was that burned me obviously had to be either CIA or well-connected enough that he could put out the scrub order. Any and all documents relating to me would have been destroyed.

  In the grand scheme of things, I think I’m lucky that Nisha and the Tower had a copy of my personnel file and created their own dossier. If not, I probably still wouldn’t know who I am. It’s only because I read that file that my memories came back to me at all. Without that file, I’d probably still be a blank slate.

  “So are you going to tell me who he is?” she asks. “This Ezra Kingston guy?”

  “Not right now,” I tell her. “It’s probably safer if you don’t know.”

  “Really?” She raises her eyebrows at me.

  “Seriously,” I nod. “You’re the one who told me that it takes some high-level power players to erase somebody, right? Do you really want them sniffing around you?”

  Justice sighs. “No, I guess not,” she admits. “But I’d like to help you, Echo.”

  “And you are helping me,” I tell her. “I couldn’t do the shit I’m doing without your help.”

  She sits up straighter and seems to perk up at my words. A smile crosses her face, and she preens a bit.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true, huh?” she says.

  “It certainly is,” I say. “Well, keep digging. Let me know if you come up with anything.”

  “I will.”

  “And I’ll touch base when I’m getting ready to move on Vargas.”

  “Copy that.”

  I click off the call and sit back, pondering over the fact that I’ve been scrubbed out of existence. I mean, if Justice couldn’t find anything, it probably doesn’t exist. Which means that there are definitely some high-level power players involved. And my thoughts turn to what Arthur told me back in Minneapolis—my father is involved in all of this somehow.

  But who is he?

  And how is he involved?

  Chapter Eight

  I stand on the balcony of my hotel room, watching the sun slip below the horizon. In vivid shades of orange and red, the sky looks like it’s on fire. The ocean glitters like a pool of liquid flame. A soft wind blows, carrying the thick scent of the salt air along with it. Down on the beach below, people lounge on the sand and play in the crystal-clear waters of the ocean. Off to the right, a group of twenty-somethings are playing volleyball while another group plays football in the sand.

  The tranquil scene p
laying out below me reminds me of a vacation Mandy and I took together before Ryan was born. I remember lounging in the sand, feeling the sun’s warming rays beat down on us from above. The water was as clear as glass and the sand white as sugar. We’d spent our days enjoying the ocean and our nights making love to the sound of the crashing waves. Everything about that trip was perfect. Just the memory of it brings a smile to my face.

  The smile soon fades though, replaced by a feeling of sorrow and emptiness. Every time I close my eyes, I can still picture her face. It’s as clear today as the first day I laid eyes on her. I remember her smile, the sound of her laughter. I remember the way her lips felt pressed to mine and the feel of her body in my arms. She was so soft and yet firm at the same time. I recall the scent of her hair and skin vividly.

  When I think about Mandy, the contradicting feelings almost tear me apart. I feel both the overwhelming sense of joy and the crushing sense of loss flooding over me at the same time. As I look out at the water, remembering the vacation I took with her, remembering my family—it leaves me feeling hollowed out. Empty inside. And it leaves me wondering if it’s ever going to end. If I’m ever going to feel happiness again. If I’ll ever feel anything but this yawning pit in the center of me. If I’m ever going to feel anything but this constant goddamn throbbing pain in my heart.

  My phone rings. I turn, walking back into the room. I scoop it up and glance at the caller ID. I hit the button and press the phone to my ear then walk back out to the balcony.

  “I was hoping you’d call,” I greet her.

  “Sorry. I didn’t have a chance to call earlier,” Publius says. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Working on anything interesting?”

  “Everything I work on is interesting,” she says. “Not all of it is relevant to you though.”

  I grin. “What? You have other interests?”

  “I have a job,” she tells me. “Being Publius, unfortunately, doesn’t pay all the bills.”

  “Interesting. What do you do?”

  “Nice try,” she laughs. “Telling you what I do amounts to third base. We haven’t even gotten into the foreplay yet.”

  The last of the sun disappears below the horizon, and the day surrenders to the night. The vibrant colors start to fade into gray, and the sparkling pinpoints of the stars begin to twinkle.

  “So where are you?” she asks.

  “Now who’s skipping the foreplay?”

  She laughs. “I’m a bold girl.”

  “Apparently,” I respond. “I’m in Mexico.”

  “Doing?”

  “A job.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  I know if I’m going to be asking for her help, I need to give her something. And I owe her. Besides, it’s not like she’s not going to hear about it soon enough. She’s got a source inside the Vargas cartel, so she’s probably going to be tipped off the second it happens. By preempting her source, I’ll earn a bit of goodwill from her.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m doing on a couple of conditions,” I start.

  “Name ‘em.”

  “First, I need you to sit on this story until I give you the okay. It’s sensitive,” I explain. “Second, I need you to do me a favor in return.”

  “A little quid pro quo, huh?” she asks. “People get into trouble for that these days, you know.”

  “Not as long as they’ve got friends to make that trouble go away.”

  She laughs. “Fair enough. What do you need me to do?”

  “I have a name I need you to do a deep dive on,” I say. “I had one of my techies research the name, and they came up with nothing.”

  There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line. It’s a longshot, but it’s an avenue I need to explore in the name of doing my due diligence. Besides, Publius might have some sources or contacts she can squeeze that Justice doesn’t have access to.

  “Sounds simple,” she says. “What’s the name?”

  “Ezra Kingston.”

  “Your techie found nothing about this Ezra guy online?” she asks. “Nothing at all?”

  “Not a single thing,” I confirm.

  “That’s hard to do,” she replies. “Making somebody disappear entirely.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Who is he to you? This Ezra guy?”

  “Just a name I need information on,” I say. “I need personal details, including his family. He and his father are persons of interest in something I’m working on.”

  “His father? That’s a very deep dive.”

  I watch as half a dozen seagulls swoop down from the sky and splash down into the water. As darkness descends, a couple of bonfires spring up on the sand, and I watch as the people dance around it, enjoying a warm evening at the beach.

  “So what do you think I can find that your techie can’t?” she asks.

  “You’ve got sources and contacts. You’ve got insane access,” I say. “If there’s nothing online, I need to look at what I can find that’s not digital.”

  There’s another long pause on the other end of the line. All I can hear is the plaintive cries of the seagulls who’ve taken to the air once more. They circle over the people at the bonfires, searching for scraps of food carelessly left behind or tossed out to them.

  “It’s you, isn’t it?” she asks. “Your memories came back.”

  She’s sharp. Insightful. Her instincts are sharper than a razor. Which isn’t good for me. I know she wants answers and that she wants the truth. And I don’t want to outright lie to her. I don’t like being lied to and do my best to avoid doing the same to others. But this was a risk I knew I was taking by pulling her into this. I’d hoped she wouldn’t make the connection, but she obviously has. Now I just need to control the information since it’s already out there.

  “Not all of them. A lot of them, though,” I tell her. “But there are still things I can’t recall. Some areas that are still big blanks in my head.”

  “I’m glad you’re getting some of them back though,” she says. “That’s incredible.”

  “I need you to keep a lid on this,” I tell her. “This cannot get out, Publius.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hope so. As far as everybody knows, Ezra Kingston is dead, and it needs to stay that way,” I press. “If it gets out, I am going to be hunted ruthlessly and will probably end up in a ditch with a bunch of bullets in my head.”

  She is silent for a moment as she absorbs what I said. I think she’s finally beginning to understand the gravity of the situation.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” she finally says. “I swear.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What’s the deal with your father?”

  I run a hand through my hair, considering how much to tell her. And since she already knows, I suppose there’s no point in cutting her out of the rest of it. Besides, the more information she has, the more pointed questions she’ll be able to ask since she’ll know what to be looking for.

  “I was told that my father is an important figure in the Hellfire Club,” I explain. “And I can’t remember him. Total blank spot. I don’t know who he is or what he does… he’s one of those blank spots.”

  “Understood,” she replies. “I’ll start squeezing my contacts and see what I can dig up.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “You got it. Besides, it’s not like I’m working for free here,” she says. “You still need to tell me what you’re doing down in Mexico.”

  “Javier Vargas,” I tell her. “I’m here for him.”

  “Damn,” she says, sounding almost breathless. “You realize you’re taking on an army.”

  I chuckle. “It’s more like a troop,” I tell her. “But I have a plan.”

  “Good to know.”

  I let out a long breath and let my mind spin as an idea comes to me. It’s backhanded and devious, and it might cause a lot of trouble. But on the other hand, it might solve one problem that I’m goi
ng to need to deal with at some point.

  “I have a story for you,” I tell her. “I need you to hold it for a bit, but I think you’ll want to start looking into it.”

  “Sounds intriguing,” she says. “Tell me.”

  “It’s a story about a dead cartel boss and a DEA chief…”

  Chapter Nine

  I’m sitting in a chair on the balcony, having a beer and staring out at the vast expanse of the ocean stretched out before me. Night has fallen, and I’m going over my plan in my head for the thousandth time, searching for flaws or weak points. A lot of it is going to depend upon Justice taking out their cameras and Vargas’ men not noticing they’ve been blinded.

  I drain the last of my beer and get to my feet. Carrying the bottle back into the room, I drop it into the trash can and pull another one out of the mini-fridge tucked into the corner. I twist the top off and toss it into the can and hear the muffled sound of my phone ringing.

  I look over at the small army of phones arranged on the table. None of them are ringing. I grab my computer bag, unzip the inside compartment, then reach in and pull out the cell phone tucked inside. It’s the phone that asshole from the Hellfire Club gave me. The one who tried to kill me and then sent Vargas’ sicario’s after me when he was ordered to stand down. When I called the phone last, I could swear I recognized the voice. I knew it intimately. Could this be my father’s voice?

  No. I put that aside. That’s some heavy shit for a different day. Besides, I already have a feeling about what he’s going to say, but call it morbid curiosity, I just have to hear it from him. I connect the call and put the phone to my ear.

  “I thought I would have heard from you before now,” he greets me.

  “Yeah sorry, had a lot on my plate lately,” I say. “What with trying to keep your operators and cartel sicario’s from killing me and all.”

  “I thought I made up for that by giving you the name of the man responsible for that?”

  “It was a good start.”

  I sit down in the chair on the balcony and take a pull from my bottle of beer as I gaze out at the ocean. The silver light of the moon dazzles upon the surface of the sea, making the white foam of the waves crashing upon the shore glow with a silvery effervescence.