Killer of Killers

by Mark M. DeRobertis

  It was a warm Japanese evening, and then, as now, a full moon smiled upon him. He smiled back, and why shouldn’t he? Those were happy days for Trent. He was young, in his physical prime, and engaged to be married. Eastern winds brushed his bare chest and rattled the glass doors behind him.

  “Tora,” a bodiless voice called from nowhere.

  Trent looked left and right, cranked his head up, and then looked down. No one was revealed, so he didn’t answer. He about-faced, and there stood the black-clad figure of his best friend, as if conjured from the breeze.

  Trent spoke perfect Japanese. “Jiro. Is it really you?”

  “Need you ask? Have I changed so much?”

  “Why are you here? Why now after all this time?”

  A feminine voice called from within the building, “Tora, are you saying something?”

  “Just getting some air. I’ll be right in.”

  With flawless stealth, Jiro shut the doors and moved beside the glass to remain unseen from the inside. “Thank you for not telling Yoshiko I am here. Tell no one. I beg of you.”

  “What is it, Jiro? What’s wrong?”

  “You were right. I had to tell you. You were right, and I am sorry. Please, forgive me.”

  “For what? You don’t need forgiving.”

  “I do, Tora.”

  Jiro’s shrouded form doubled over. He put his hand over his chest. It was wet, and Trent realized it was blood. “Jiro, what happened?” He reached out to help him up.

  “No, don’t touch me. And don’t try to find me.”

  “Why? You’re hurt. What happened?”

  “I am here for one reason...to tell you. Listen. You were right. They can’t be trusted. No one... No one can be trusted.” Jiro struggled upright.

  Trent furrowed his brow. “What do you mean don’t try to find you? You’re here now. Let me help you. Shoji and Yoshiko... They—”

  “No. They must never know you saw me.” Jiro’s voice strengthened. “After this night, I will disappear, and no one will find me.”

  “Why?”

  Jiro sprang up and crouched on the railing with the poise of a cat. “Just promise me you won’t ever work for them. Promise me, Tora. Promise me you won’t work for anyone. Ever. Promise me.”

  “Tora?” The woman’s voice was close. “Who’s there?”

  Trent turned to face the double doors as they swung wide, exposing the supple form of Yoshiko Wada garbed in a bathrobe. He gestured to the empty balcony. “As you can see, Yoshiko...just my friends, the wind and the moon.”

  As he re-entered his apartment that night, so Trent returned to his hotel room and filled his eyes with the sultry image of Samantha Jones. He was becoming more intrigued with this policewoman. Or was she a policewoman? She certainly demonstrated efficiency and discretion, which were admirable qualities. She also exhibited integrity and honor, which he valued even more.

  Samantha asked, “Are you all right?”

  Trent looked her in the eye. “Are you a cop or not?”

  “Yes, I’m a cop. Nine years.”

  “Then if you know what I’ve been doing, why aren’t you arresting me?” He reconsidered the question. “Or...are you arresting me?”

  “If I was arresting you, half the New York P.D. would be here.”

  Believing it was true, Trent allowed himself to examine the armed goddess that lay before him. Looking at her was like looking at a modern day Helen of Troy. He studied her perfect body in the scanty underwear and decided it wasn’t Helen, but Aphrodite herself in his bed. “So you know I don’t work for Abraham Soriah, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

  Samantha placed the revolver inside her purse. “Please, sit down and I’ll tell you.” She patted the sheets next to her lap.

  Trent returned to the bedside and sat down. After kicking off his shoes, he brought one foot up but kept the other on the floor.

  “I’m here to recruit you,” Samantha said, leaning forward to take hold of his hand. “Have you ever heard of Karl Manoukian?”

  “Yes, another billionaire whacko.”

  “He’s not that bad. Let me tell you about him. It’s very important.”

  “Why? What do you have to do with Karl Manoukian?”

  “He’s a friend who helped my brother when he was in trouble. In return, Josh and I were enlisting Benjamin Stiles for an assignment. That is, until you happened to show up.”

  “Why a scumbag like Stiles?”

  “We needed a killer.”

  Trent already knew the line from Soriah, but he thought it best not to reveal his encounter with the elderly tycoon. “So who needs killing? No, let me guess. It’s Abraham Soriah.”

  “More than anyone,” Samantha replied. Her visage sobered as did her tone. “Abraham Soriah was responsible for the trouble Josh was in. He’s also responsible for the murderers being freed throughout the country the last few years. You know, the ones with whom you’ve taken issue. Benjamin Stiles and Jeremiah Flint, for instance.”

  “And you figure I’m the killer for the job, now.”

  “Yes.” Samantha’s smile returned, but it wasn’t her usual one. It was more of a half-smile, since only one side of her mouth curled upward. “I know you’re an expert killer. I would even say you have a lot more killing to do. Am I wrong?” Her smile became whole again.

  “I want you to understand something,” Trent said. “I may be a killer, but I’m a killer of killers. Only.”

  “I know that. I’ve known it ever since I met you on the airplane.”

  Samantha’s grip on Trent’s hand tightened as she spoke. Trent wondered if she even realized it. “Just how much did you see that night?” he asked.

  “I saw you both go into that restroom, but only you came out. I looked inside. Benjamin was dead.”

  “And you made sure to take the same flight I was on.”

  “I was lucky to get booked, but as it turned out, I was even luckier to get a seat next to you.”

  Trent formed a half-smile of his own. “I don’t suppose your luck takes the shape of a badge.”

  “You could say it helps,” Samantha confessed.

  “So you don’t live in Oakland.”

  “No, I live in Marin. Sorry about that.”

  Trent remained silent for several moments. “The police have nothing to do with any of this,” he finally said. “You were taking Benjamin Stiles to see Manoukian, so he could hire him to kill Soriah.”

  “Yes, but when you killed Benjamin, we thought you worked for Soriah. We had to be sure. We had to find out who you really were.”

  Trent pondered the words as the puzzle took shape. “Your only connection with Manoukian is through your brother?”

  “Not entirely. I knew Karl socially, but I didn’t know about his association with Abraham Soriah until after I asked for his help. Regardless, Josh and I are indebted to him.”

  “So the job meant for Stiles is still open.”

  “He wants to hire you. Would you like that? He pays a lot.”

  “Ha!” Trent was finding this whole thing amusing now.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Trent was thinking about his employment opportunities with both megalomaniacs. He looked back at Samantha and decided to put her on the defensive. “You never told me why you had to meet Stiles at LAX before he flew to San Francisco. I’m still wondering about that.” He lowered his brow. “Please don’t tell me a man they called ‘Steely’ needed a gorgeous blond to hold his hand or whisper soothing words of encouragement. I want to know why he didn’t fly directly there. Are you willing to tell me yet?”

  Samantha turned toward a place not specific in the room. “I can’t tell you,” she said. “There’s so much more you need to know first.”

  “Then what are some of these things I need to know first?”

  “Have you ever heard of a drug called Eternity?”

  It was the first time Trent heard it referred to as that, but it made sense as he considered
the test subjects called Eternals, the symbol they wore, and the drug’s alleged ability. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Flint’s medallion. “Yeah, I found this,” he answered. “I was told that whoever wears it is undergoing some kind of medical treatment. I figure the treatment is daily injections of this drug you call Eternity.”

  Samantha crumpled her brow. “What else do you know about it?”

  “Just that it has some kind of fantastic healing capability. I figure it’s a steroid, and people like Stiles and Flint used it to keep themselves bulked up. Right now, however, I’m thinking there might be more to it than bodybuilding and Band Aids.” Trent tired of her questions. “What do you know about it?”

  “What I know is what my brother told me. Soriah Enterprises approached him when his career was near its end. They told him this new steroid of theirs couldn’t be detected, and he would be the player he used to be in his prime. They approached a lot of players like my brother.”

  “Stiles, too?” Trent already knew but asked anyway.

  “Yes, and it worked. Josh joined him in New York his last two years in the league, but after that they both had to retire as part of the deal.”

  “Retire? Why?”

  “Because as part of the deal they agreed to receive unlimited treatments, and Soriah didn’t want anyone noticing high profile players like Josh and Benjamin were no longer vulnerable to injuries.”

  “Hold on. Isn’t that the whole point? To heal injuries?”

  “At first, that’s what they hoped to achieve—a miracle drug that rapidly healed injuries—but they stumbled onto something else.”

  “You mean something that truly puts the word miracle in the term miracle drug.” Trent still couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Apparently, the latest version they developed heals everything, even chromosomes and DNA. I don’t know all the scientific details, but it seems the effects are almost instantaneous.”

  “Well, it didn’t keep Stiles and Flint alive,” Trent noted. “If the effects are instantaneous, then why are these people still dying?”

  “I said almost instantaneous. If someone receives a fatal injury, like crushed arteries and tracheas, for instance...” She paused, as if to highlight her example. “...or if someone gets shot or stabbed, they can still die outright or even bleed to death.”

  Trent could tell she was on the level, so he decided to ask his most pressing question. “Does it really stop people from aging?”

  “That’s what they claim.”

  “Does it have to be daily injections?”

  “Yes. They can’t make it work with pills. Not yet, anyway.”

  The conversation was moving too fast. Trent couldn’t shake his cynicism and needed time to think it through. He knew there was a catch. “What about the murders committed by people using this stuff?”

  Samantha tensed her mouth and then responded, “You’ve heard of steroids affecting people who are prone to violent behavior—roid rage—but the side effects of Eternity have something to do with pheromones.”

  “Pheromones?” The occurrence of roid rage in steroid use was common knowledge, but this was the first Trent heard of a problem with pheromones.

  “That’s what Josh told me,” Samantha said. “Normal anabolic steroids manipulate hormones and intensify aggressive behavior, but this form of steroid has been mutated. With Eternity, it’s the pheromones that go awry. It doesn’t always happen, but when it does, well, we’ve seen the results. Karl can explain it better than I.”

  “All right, so what was Bernstein’s role in all of this?”

  “Samuel Bernstein was the scientist who invented the drug, but it was Karl who funded his research.”

  “Karl,” Trent repeated, acerbically. “How did he happen to get involved in all of this, anyway?”

  “He was approached by Dr. Bernstein when it was still a medicine used as a healing agent. Karl made his fortune as an investor, and he saw the value in Bernstein’s work from the beginning. But the costs were enormous, and Bernstein’s methods were controversial. Karl had to build new facilities and new equipment, all to Bernstein’s specifications.

  “They experimented on animals and people, too. Bernstein needed the government out of his way, so Karl built what he called Manoukian Labs in Minnesota. He was able to provide Bernstein with everything...facilities, assistants, resources, and most important of all, privacy.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “About five years ago.”

  “And when did Soriah come into the picture?”

  “Soriah came into the picture when they realized the scope of the drug’s healing properties were without limit. Of course, that intrigued everyone, but the program needed more money and additional experiments that were even more controversial. Something like that was very hard to keep a lid on. Soriah got wind of it, swooped in, and brought more scientists with him to participate in the research.”

  Samantha stopped to regain her breath, and Trent used the break to ask his next question. “Is that when Dr. Benson joined the team?”

  “How do you know about him?”

  “Never mind. What about Benson?”

  “Well, yes, Jason Benson was one of Soriah’s additions. He was the best biochemist Soriah could find. And with their joint efforts, Bernstein and Benson struck gold.” Samantha’s enchanting eyes sparkled as brightly as the analogy she used.

  “So then what happened?” Trent wanted to understand how the two partners could have a conflict of interest in a discovery so monumental.

  “Since Karl had nearly exhausted his own finances, he thought Soriah’s money and influence would enable his research to be completed. Karl really only needed a boost in financial support, because Soriah’s influence he could have gone without.

  “The old shark made Manoukian Labs a subdivision of Soriah Enterprises and renamed it Eternity Labs. He expanded the facility and added new researchers. Josh told me he even brought in two specialists from China. It’s like he created a new empire, all dedicated to Eternity.” Samantha paused again, this time with a pout. “Karl didn’t know...”

  Unfinished sentences annoyed Trent. “What didn’t he know?”

  “Karl didn’t know what a monster Soriah is. That’s what he didn’t know.”

  “So what happened? What was it that caused such a hostile feud between Soriah and Manoukian?”

  “Karl was counting on Eternity to replace his fortune, but Soriah had his own twisted ideas. It was a major problem, but eventually Soriah placated Karl with a list of concessions.”

  “What list of concessions?”

  “Soriah allows Karl to oversee the West Coast distributions and permits him to pocket the profits. Of course, Soriah has final say as to the recipients, but with California being the home of so much wealth, Karl was appeased for the time being.”

  “These profits,” Trent mused, “they’re under the table, right? It must be an illegal operation. I don’t suppose any of this has been approved by the FDA.”

  “I don’t think they ever cared about federal approval. At least, not until the killings started.”

  Trent scowled at the sudden reference. “The killings,” he sneered. “It was big news in Japan. And every time the killers got off, it was even bigger news.”

  Samantha continued. “Dr. Bernstein determined Eternity was the cause, and he wanted to stop the treatments, but Soriah wouldn’t have it. His man Benson insisted it could be corrected.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “No, it wasn’t. The murders kept happening, and they were more brutal than ever. No one knew who would be next. Everyone was on edge. Josh told me Soriah was always secretive, but he became reclusive and totally obsessed with the drug. He kept a very tight circle of men around him. Josh and Benjamin Stiles were part of that circle.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Dr. Bernstein discovered Soriah’s plan, and it was too much for him. He destroyed the files at the r
esearch center and ran off with the formula.”

  “That’s when Stiles murdered him?”

  “Soriah sent Josh and Benjamin Stiles to retrieve the data. And they succeeded, but, well, you know what happened afterward.”

  “So that was the mess your brother was in.” Trent shook his head. “Josh took part in those murders?”

  “Benjamin committed the murders,” Samantha insisted. “To this day, Josh feels he should have done more to stop him.”

  “So why didn’t he?”

  “Because Benjamin flipped when Bernstein resisted. Josh is my brother. I know him better than anyone. The guilt has been eating him ever since.”

  Trent was convinced Samantha believed it. “So Manoukian managed to clear Josh, and he got Stiles off, too?”

  “Karl protected Josh as a favor to me, but it was Soriah who pulled the strings that managed an acquittal for Benjamin. Like he does for all of them. Soriah’s people cavort as they like with his blessing. The program needs all of its test subjects unhindered; otherwise, the process will be disrupted, the media will have a field day, and the whole operation will be jeopardized.” Samantha caught her breath again and added, “Could you imagine the repercussions if their connection to the murders became public?”

  “So, Manoukian has reconciled himself with Soriah?”

  “Karl didn’t want anything to do with Soriah’s plan, but Soriah was making the decisions by then. Karl is an investor waiting for a return, and that’s the only reason he agreed to manage the West Coast. He’s not happy about it, really, because he knows the money is a fraction of what it should be. It’s frustrating for him, because monetary profit is not Soriah’s objective.”

  With that, Trent knew Manoukian wasn’t interested in the well-being of the general populace any more than Soriah. The man had no thought to promote justice, only capital. As for his reclusive partner... “What exactly is Soriah’s objective? World domination?” To Trent it sounded like a bad movie.

  “Soriah wants to keep the formula secret. He wants the serum only for himself and a select few.”