Rogue

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Rogue Page 12

by David Leadbeater


  “I came to kill a man.”

  “The treasurer. I know.”

  The assassin narrowed his eyes. “What do you know?” he asked.

  Rogue had had enough. She shifted the hand that held the Glock at the side of his head, placed it over his mouth and raised the knife once more over his shooting arm.

  “You’ll never use it again,” she said.

  “No, no, I-”

  She plunged it in. She stifled his scream. She watched his eyes bulge. A minute later she withdrew the blade.

  “Same question,” she said.

  “I came to kill a treasurer,” he affirmed, froth bubbling from his mouth.

  “How many are left?”

  “After this guy, just one more. Plus Juliani, the guy who escaped with you.”

  “Where’s the other based?”

  “Los Angeles.” She was glad to hear him still telling the truth.

  “And he’ll be the last?”

  “Yeah. They saved him for last. He’s the Hub. The most important.”

  “The Hub? What’s that?”

  “It’s the guy, the treasurer,” his eyes closed in pain as he bled onto the ground. “He’s the hub of all the Mafia networks in North America, which means all the money ultimately goes through him. When he goes down, the shit will really hit the fan.”

  “In the crime families,” Rogue said, musingly, to herself. Then she looked back to the assassin. “What’s his name? This ‘Hub’?”

  The assassin’s mouth drew into a straight line. Rogue knew he wanted to stay quiet. Without pause she placed a hand over his mouth and pounded twice on the head of the knife’s shaft. The man struggled and fought, but she held him down.

  “Name?”

  “Fuck . . . you,” he gasped.

  Rogue smashed the butt of the gun into his teeth and pounded the knife again. “This isn’t gonna get any easier for you.”

  “They’ll kill me if I tell you.”

  Rogue made a face. “You think I’ll be any easier to deal with?”

  “All right,” he breathed heavily, looking defeated. “Look . . . his name’s Cesar Santoro. Are you happy?”

  “And they call him the Hub?”

  The assassin nodded. “He’s Numero Uno. Knows where all the bodies are buried, where all the surveillance blackmail shit is kept. If you really want to spook the Mafia, he’s the guy to hit.”

  “Is he your kill?”

  “Yeah, after this.”

  “I really don’t think you’re gonna make it.”

  She gripped the shaft of the blade again. The assassin’s eyes went wide.

  “No, no, I told you everything I know.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to beg. Rogue saw the malice in his eyes, knew exactly what would happen if the situation was reversed. She paused once more, trying to make it look as if she was giving him a last chance.

  “The Old Men,” she tried. “Last chance. You know nothing?”

  “The Hub,” he said. “He’s what you want. He’s your guy. Do you really think the biggest organised crime network on the planet don’t know who runs the Hellfire Cub? Some of their members are probably a part of it. Go to the Hub, and he will know.”

  It was plausible. If anyone would know it would be the leaders of the biggest organisations. Rogue saw a car pull up outside the Gazzo café and saw an old man climb out. She checked her watch.

  Midday. “Looks like your target’s here.”

  She rammed the knife straight through his throat.

  “That’s for Tom, you homicidal son of a bitch.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “I’ll drive,” Rogue said. “You guys need to research this ‘Hub’.”

  Spencer spread his hands. “I don’t have my phone. You got a laptop in that backpack of yours?”

  She didn’t. The car was already rolling as she punched the journey to LA into the sat-nav. “First shop I see,” she said. “I’ll pick one up.”

  “And please get me a phone,” Juliani moaned. “I’m lost without mine.”

  “Why? You wanna update your Facebook status?”

  Juliani quickly changed the subject. “Why do we have to research this Hub person?”

  Rogue kept her eyes on the road, stayed alert for danger. “Because we have to get close to him. We’ve temporarily saved his life, though he doesn’t know it. Maybe the Hellfire Club, by which I mean the old men, will send more assassins. Maybe they won’t. But we must isolate and talk to him. We need to know what he knows about the old men.”

  “So, you’re looking for habits,” Spencer caught on. “Some place he frequents where we can get him alone for a few hours.”

  “That’s it. And I like how you said ‘we’.”

  Spencer grinned. For a kid on the run, a retro gaming geek who was here against his will, he was showing some spirit. More than that, he was eager to help.

  Twenty miles later she’d stopped at an electronics store, bought a small laptop and a dongle for mobile internet, and passed it all to Spencer to get set up. She refused to give Juliani access to a phone, and he and wouldn’t meet her eyes for several miles. She wondered if this was what it was like when you had kids. Another sore point for her. At thirty-three she knew she was perfectly capable of bearing and bringing up a child but hers was no life to raise a son or a daughter into. And you needed love – with the right man. Didn’t that come first?

  It didn’t have to. But as much as she believed she wanted a child she knew better than to introduce one to her world right now. In Cocoa Beach it might have been different; after two years she was just starting to believe it might be possible to start afresh.

  Then Tom appeared back in her life.

  If she’d only had another year. But as long as the Old Men were alive, she’d always be running. She’d never be able to rest. It was one more reason to find Cesar Santoro, the man they called the Hub.

  The road led them past San Diego and onto the I15. The urgency wasn’t as intense as it had been yesterday, but she knew many things could still go wrong if they didn’t hoof it all the way to L.A.

  “Less than two hours to go,” she said, checking the sat nav. “How we doing, geek?”

  “Not so well. There’re news reports on this Santoro guy. They do mention mafia connections and organised crime. Nothing sticks. He’s always several parts removed.”

  “You won’t find any dirt on him,” Juliani told them. “He’s too valuable.”

  Rogue caught his eye in the rear view. “Speaking of valuable – how do you think your syndicate are handling your disappearance?”

  “Badly. They’ll be breaking doors, bodies, heads. They’ll be aware of the other murders though, so any blowback to me should be lessened.”

  Spencer gave them a condensed version of the information he’d gleaned so far. “Cesar Santoro was busted for soliciting at a strip club. The charges didn’t stick. He was busted for beating up a man who humiliated him at chess. The charges didn’t stick. He was busted for breaking a woman’s laptop when she refused to give up her seat in a coffee shop. The charges didn’t stick.”

  “I’m seeing a pattern here.” Rogue said.

  “That the charges didn’t stick?” Juliani said drily.

  “No, that Cesar’s an asshole.”

  Spencer straightened and looked out the window. “I feel car sick.”

  Rogue laughed. “Take a break. Roll the window down. Hang your head out and tell me what you take from that information.”

  “A strip club and a coffee shop,” Spencer said. “Which are both mentioned by name.”

  “Working in reverse, we can follow him home.” Rogue said. “Habits are hard to break and a spy’s advantageous tool.”

  “We can’t be sure he still frequents either of them,” Juliani said. “Or on which day.”

  “True,” Rogue pulled out into the fast lane to overtake a long row of dawdling cars. “And that’s why we’ll work another angle too. His address.”

&
nbsp; Spencer checked the time. “It will be about half past four when we hit midtown. The coffee shop and strip club are in Hollywood. Should we assume he lives around that area?”

  “For sure. It’s unlikely he’ll use a bus or the metro. If we had a week, this would be easy.” She shrugged. “C’est la vie.”

  “I’m assuming you have a plan to find Cesar’s address?” Juliani asked. “A friend of a friend?”

  “You know me so well. Isn’t that how Tom and I originally found you?”

  “Really?” Spencer interrupted. “And how did that happen?”

  “My postman’s girlfriend’s father was involved in a minor car accident. He worked for the DMV. Rogue got him drunk, engineered the accident and then told him you’d make it all go away for my address.”

  “Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that,” Rogue said. “But there are other ways.”

  “What ways?”

  She saw Spencer’s eyes widening in the rear view and didn’t answer. But she smiled to herself.

  The kid was showing promise. She just had to keep him alive long enough to develop it.

  *

  Rogue sat in the car as darkness spread across the City of Angels. She was alone, which felt odd after being with Tom, Spencer and Juliani almost non-stop for the last few days. And that sensation felt even odder- since she’d been ostensibly on her own for the last two years. Rogue stayed strong, keeping her head in the game.

  The car was parked around the back of the Green Lizard, a strip club off Sunset and on Curson Avenue. It wasn’t illegally parked, but Rogue knew the alley was used for access and she could be moved on at any minute. The problem was – there was nowhere else to park in the vicinity and they might need a quick getaway.

  Spencer and Juliani were inside. She worried about those two being let loose inside a strip club, pretty sure neither of them had much experience prowling adult cabarets.

  The plan was simple. They knew Cesar was inside. Rogue had been waiting for a DMV contact who was strapped for cash to call back when, out of the blue, another spotter she’d hired on arriving in Los Angeles had called to say he’d just entered the Green Lizard. Finally, they’d caught a small break. They still had to make contact with Cesar without arousing suspicions.

  Rogue hadn’t wanted to hand the reins over to the guys but, faced with this establishment, she hadn’t had much choice. She checked her phone for the fifteenth time in just ten minutes.

  No contact.

  By now, Cesar should have been located. Spencer and Juliani’s job was to let her know the instant he headed for the men’s room. If it didn’t happen soon, they had orders to pay a woman to get him to the men’s room. If that didn’t work, they would follow him home.

  Twenty minutes passed. Rogue watched hundreds of figures crossing both ends of the alley. Four people came down in that time, three women taking a short cut and one guy taking a leak. She watched windows and doors further along. All remained still. The shadows lengthened. Finally, after thirty-five minutes her phone rang.

  “Now.”

  She leaped out of the car, beeping the lock behind her, grabbed the broken handle of the club’s rear door, wrenched it open and slipped inside. A dark passage greeted her. It led past a changing room, an office and a storage room. Rogue’s plan didn’t involve impersonating a performer, but she figured she had the body to get by if anyone saw her. Minus the tattoos, of course. She swaggered down the passage unhindered and soon came to a new door, which she opened. Ahead, were the restrooms.

  Cesar was right in front of her, pushing his way into the men’s. Rogue smiled as she passed him, slowing down on his blind side. Cesar tried to turn as he entered the restroom, perhaps sensing danger but more likely hoping she’d be up for something special. His movement stalled when she push-kicked him in the small of the back.

  Cesar fell through the door and landed on his knees. Rogue pushed in behind, locking the door. Cesar tried to rise but she kicked him in the ribs and then stood on the back of his neck.

  “Stay down,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You are hurting me.”

  “I know who you are. I know what you do and that you’re the Hub. Believe me when I say I want to save your life in return for some information. Now, you good?”

  He nodded silently, hands squeaking across the wet tiles as he tried to sit up. His shirt and trousers were damp. Two urinals stood to the right and two stalls dead ahead. Everything seemed to be leaking. Rogue concentrated on Cesar. He was around fifty with salt and pepper hair and a clean-shaven face. His eyes were dull, all the life probably leached from a lifetime of crime. He wore gold rings, bracelets and a gold Patek Phillipe watch. Rogue spied chunky gold necklaces inside his shirt.

  She motioned for him to sit back against the sink. “We don’t have much time,” she said. “You’ve heard about the accountant murders across the world?”

  He nodded immediately.

  “You’re next on the list. I killed the assassin. I have another accountant with me, who I’m helping. But you . . . they saved you for last. You’re the Hub. The killers’ reasoning was that your murder would turn the chaos that has been caused by the other murders into a mega shitstorm. All the gangs and organisations are blaming each other. It’s spiralling. When you get hit – it’ll explode.”

  Cesar watched her face, staying mute. She knew by the open, interested expression that she was getting through.

  “They’re called the Hellfire Club,” she said. “Maybe you’ve heard of them? They plan to take advantage of this super-turmoil by inserting three of their own men into different criminal organisations so they can control its money flow. And then use it for their own ends. Get it?”

  Cesar nodded. “Yes.”

  She didn’t know if he believed her. He was a hard read. At that moment someone tried the outer door, cursing when they found it locked.

  “Use the ladies,” she shouted in a breathy voice. “We’re busy.”

  There was a laugh. She watched Cesar closely, prepared to pounce but the man didn’t even try to call for help.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked.

  “After this,” she said. “You have to make yourself scarce. I killed the assassin, but they might send another after you. And believe me, these guys don’t miss. I used to be one of them.”

  “I won’t be threatened by the Hellfire Club.” Without prompting, Cesar had confirmed her suspicions that he knew of them. “I will take revenge.”

  “Get in line,” Rogue said. “Because I want them first.”

  “Understood.” He straightened his back and started dabbing at his wet trousers. “How the hell did you find me?”

  At that moment her cell rang. Knowing only Spencer and Juliani possessed the number she assumed it must be something important. “Yes?”

  “Two big guys are heading your way. They were with Cesar.”

  She cupped the phone and looked at the treasurer. “You have bodyguards?”

  He made a face. “Yes. Unfortunately, it is a consequence of my job.”

  “Ten seconds.” Spencer said and cut the line.

  Rogue shook her head slightly and fixed Cesar with a look. “Stay put.”

  She rose, unlocked the door and waited behind it. Spencer was spot on. She tensed as the door swung inwards, waited for the first figure to show itself. When he did, she grabbed an arm, stepped in and twisted. Still in shock, the man flew over her body and hit the floor hard, cracking tiles. The second was just as surprised, but Rogue had to step around the door to engage him and that gave him time to react.

  Unfortunately for him, he used the extra seconds to reach for a gun.

  Rogue stepped in close, delivering throat and sternum jabs as rapidly as gunshots. He staggered. She grabbed an arm and flung him over her shoulder, straight into his rising friend. Both men collapsed in a groaning mass of arms and legs. Rogue didn’t let up – the ruin of every fighter who lost a contest, or a victim
who failed to escape their attacker, was that they didn’t take advantage. If your opponent shows a single moment of weakness, recognise it and utterly destroy them.

  She knelt down, stripping them of their weapons and delivering jabs at the same time. She kept glancing over at Cesar. The man seemed mildly amused.

  Once she’d tied their hands with their own belts she stood up.

  “Listen,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt any of you. I need your help. You’re the Hub. I need you to tell me how to find the Hellfire Club.”

  He met her eyes. “That sounds like you have more than one score to settle.”

  “I do. If you give them to me, your organisation won’t have to lift a finger.”

  “Oh, but I think they will want to.”

  “You don’t have to tell them you ever met me.”

  Cesar considered that. “Maybe,” he said, clearly thinking fast. “As I see it, my organisation, as you call it, would be well placed now to take advantage of this accountant chaos. To use all our resources taking advantage.”

  “Nail on the head.” Rogue agreed.

  “I’ll let you into a secret,” Cesar said. “I am not the Hub. But I do know where it is.”

  “You’re not the Hub? Pull the other one.”

  “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “I mean stop lying to me.”

  “You think the west coast mafia would trust all their secrets to one man?” he asked, smiling. “Or do you think they would let the rumour circulate so that, if anyone came looking, they would get some warning?”

  Rogue pursed her lips. “Go on. But if you’re lying to me Cesar, you know I’ll be back. And you know what I can do.”

  “I am not lying.” He said and proceeded to give her the information. “I will tell you only enough to find the Club,” he said. “I trust you will not go poking beyond that.”

  “You can’t trust me at all. Same as I can’t trust you. But I give you my word that if this information leads me to them, I won’t look any further.”

  “I guess that depends on what you find,” he said in a dark, knowing voice. “But I can’t fight you now. And I believe you about the accountant’s murders. We suspected something but considered they wouldn’t be stupid enough to go after the Hub.”

 

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