The Thriller Collection

by S W Vaughn

  Mendez opened his mouth, but Jenner spoke first. “For the moment, it would seem monetary restitution is the most fitting course of action. Determine what the boy would have commanded in winnings, and pay that amount to Ulysses.”

  “Fuck no. His odds were long. It’d be more than twice what Duke brought in.”

  “Perhaps you would rather we implement Harada-san’s suggestion and ban Prometheus from the tournament?”

  “You…” Mendez closed his eyes, opened them. “Fine. I pay you, and you get off my back. Right?”

  “Your fighters will be monitored, of course. If you break any more rules, I am certain we will impose a more permanent penalty.”

  “Who appointed you the fucking emperor, freak?”

  Jenner arched an eyebrow. “If anyone here disagrees, you are welcome to speak.”

  Silence answered, signifying general assent.

  “Cowards. The bunch of you. You’re a flock of goddamn chickens. And you.” Mendez swung a vicious snarl in Gabriel’s direction. “Vamos a matarle, pendejo.”

  “Mendez. It’s settled. Stand down.” Wolff thrust an arm between him and Mendez, and pushed the Prometheus leader back.

  Mendez shoved the arm down. “Don’t you fuckin’ touch me. It’s settled, but it ain’t over. You got that, fish? Not over.”

  Wolff’s gun seemed to appear in his hand, pointed at Mendez’s chest. “It is over, damn it. You save that shit for the streets, and pray I don’t ever catch you. In here you follow the rules or you’re gone — and so is your protection.”

  Mendez stepped back and raised his hands. “All right. Chill, capitan. I’ll back off.” An assured smile graced his lips. “I got better things to do than gut fish.”

  Wolff lowered the weapon. Mendez remained frozen, then his expression morphed to disgust, and he spat at Gabriel’s feet. “That don’t mean I like you, though. Stay the fuck away from me and my boys, and I’ll return the favor.”

  A flicker of real anger surged through him.

  “Seth,” Slade said before Gabriel could respond. “Take the boy upstairs. We have business to attend to.”

  Doc strode across the room and grabbed his arm. “Come on. Let’s go,” he said carefully. “Just let it drop.”

  Though Gabriel was tempted to spit back at the bastard, he pivoted and headed away. He kept his gaze straight ahead, but something compelled him to glance at Jenner on the way out.

  He could have sworn the lieutenant was smiling.

  His adrenalin draining fast, Gabriel collapsed on the low bed in Doc’s office. “So, Doc. When did you develop suicidal tendencies?”

  Doc shut the door and turned to him with a smirk. “I told you, Mendez can’t touch me. Won’t touch me,” he corrected. “He’d lose his police protection. He’s not as stupid as he acts.”

  “Great. That’s not exactly good news, you know.” Gabriel sighed and leaned back against the wall. “I’m pretty sure I’m on his shit list. You got any idea what he said to me?”

  Doc looked away. “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “My Spanish is rusty.”

  “Come on, Doc. You do know. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to ask Lonzo.”

  Doc sighed. “Gabriel, you really don’t want to hear it.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “Damn, you’re stubborn. Talk about suicidal tendencies.” Doc shook his head. “I’m serious, my Spanish is rusty. But I think he said ‘we’re going to make you dead, asshole.’ Or something like that.”

  “Heh. That sounds about right.” He closed his eyes. “So as long as I work for Slade he won’t touch me. But when I leave, I’m fair game.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Doc whispered the words, and his voice caught.

  He stared at him. “You don’t think I’m leaving, do you?”

  “Gabriel. Don’t do this,” Doc said. “Please.”

  The revelation hit him hard, a phantom fist to the gut. “I’m not leaving. Am I? Slade was never going to let me go.” He stood slowly. Sick fury made his muscles tremble. “Why would he, when I’m making him so much money? Shit, I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out—” He met Doc’s stunned gaze, and his voice shook. “You knew. You must have known. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Doc didn’t reply.

  “Damn it, Doc, why?”

  “Because it wouldn’t have made a damned bit of difference!” Doc’s eyes glittered with emotion. “If anything, it would have made things worse. Don’t you understand yet?” He staggered back and propped himself against the desk, head hanging. “If you hadn’t believed you had a chance to make it out, if you hadn’t gone along with Slade’s twisted little scheme … he would have just killed you. And Lillith. You’d both be worthless to him.”

  Gabriel’s throat tightened. The urge to vomit threatened to overtake him. “Jenner was right,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Jenner. He told me not to trust anyone. Not you. Not me.” He swallowed hard and blinked a few times. “Look, Doc. I understand your position, and I won’t hold it against you. But I am not staying here forever, and neither is my sister. There’s no way in hell I’m going to keep fighting for that bastard. After I earn his fucking blood money, we’re gone.”

  “And just how do you plan on doing that, without getting yourself killed?”

  “I don’t know. Yet.” He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead. “But damn it, I’m going to figure it out.”

  Chapter 28

  The whisper of light rain, amplified by its impact with the surface of the bay, sang through the evening air when Gabriel boarded the boat that would take them to House Pandora. Actually, the term ‘boat’ didn’t quite fit. Slade’s yacht, the Private Ambition, seemed almost as big as a cruise ship to him. A hundred feet long, easily, and the width of a small house.

  He’d arrived in a group with the other Ulysses fighters, along with Slade and Jenner. He had been told Sol would arrive shortly with the girls, which he understood to include Lillith. Attendance at the tournament was by invitation only. Other than members of the organization, there would be only a few hundred guests—high rollers, all criminals or ‘gentlemen’ with a lot of money to burn.

  Torn between excitement and terror, he paced along the rail edging the front deck of the ship. The waterlogged air misted his skin, warm and almost pleasant. He breathed in the scent of the water and listened to the slow, steady waves slosh against the shore while the boat swayed gently beneath him. The rhythm soothed him, dulled his screaming senses. He could almost forget why he was here and what he would have to do in a few short hours. He could almost forget everything.

  “Hello, angel.”

  The voice behind him shattered the moment. “Jenner.” He remained facing the bay, unable to directly address the lieutenant.

  “Waiting for someone?”

  He closed his eyes. Though Slade had officially decreed Jenner’s work over — whatever that meant — he doubted the man found it necessary to listen. “What do you want?”

  “Ah. An interesting question.” Jenner approached, stood beside him, and looked out across the glittering gray expanse of the water. He wore a full-length charcoal trench coat against the rain, an odd contrast to his typical attire. “And not one with an easy answer, I am afraid,” he continued. “Perhaps we could discuss what you want instead.”

  “Okay. What do I want?”

  “I cannot read your mind, angel. To be honest, I do not wish to.”

  He sighed. “I’m … sorry.” He paused, hardly able to believe he’d just apologized to Jenner on purpose. “You were right, you know. About not trusting anyone.”

  “Of course I was.”

  “And you’re so modest, too.”

  Jenner said nothing, but Gabriel practically heard the smirk.

  “I figured out a few things.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes. I know Slade isn’t going to let me go.”

  “Correct.” Again, a hi
nt of approval colored the lieutenant’s tone. “And?”

  “And … I have no idea what to do about it. Any suggestions?”

  “I am no longer involved.”

  “Yeah, I got that. But it does look like we have a common enemy.” He inhaled and let it out slowly. “Speaking of enemies, you and that Harada guy don’t get along too well. He looked ready to kill you at that meeting.”

  Jenner gripped the rail hard enough to whiten his knuckles. “The relationship between myself and Tomi Harada is none of your concern. I warn you, angel, do not pursue this.” He paused, and a muscle clenched along his jaw. “I am aware that you have not heeded my advice with regard to Shiro, and that you will speak with him again. Do not discuss me.”

  “I … okay. I won’t.” Shaken by the lieutenant’s snake-fast return to his vicious demeanor, he concentrated on the water again. For a moment he’d believed he and Jenner might at least come to an understanding. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Hey. Runt,” someone snarled behind him.

  Apollo. “What?” he said without turning.

  “Slade wants to see you. Now.”

  A hand clamped his arm and pulled him across the deck. He tried to wrench free. “I can walk all by myself. Honest.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think you can do.” Apollo didn’t let go. “Move your ass and keep up. Now means yesterday.”

  Scowling, he stumbled to match Apollo’s long-legged stride. He glanced back at Jenner, who stayed in place, maintaining a death grip on the rail before him.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “Fuck you, too.”

  Apollo shook him. “What was that, boy?”

  “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  Apollo led him through rooms and corridors, deep into the heart of the ship, until they stopped in front of a closed door. Soft light spilled from beneath the entryway into the absolute silence around them. With a weighted glare, Apollo opened the door and stepped aside, giving him just enough space to walk through. He did, without hesitation.

  The door closed behind him. “Sit down,” a familiar voice said.

  He looked around for Slade, trying to adjust his eyes to the gloom. A slender floor lamp provided the room’s only illumination, its circle of brightness pooled on a single metal folding chair in the middle of the floor. He approached the seat slowly, squinting into shadows that swallowed the room’s dimensions. A vague shape just beyond the light’s reach might have been a table, and behind that, the silhouette of a man. Slade. What was he playing at now?

  Gabriel lowered himself into the chair, fixed his gaze in the direction he assumed Slade to be and waited.

  “What do you think of my boat, Mr. Morgan?” Slade said.

  The question took him aback. “Why?”

  “Just curious.” A shuffling, a shifting of limbs, crept from the shadowed void. “Mr. Morgan, I think you should know that I expect you to win this tournament.”

  He couldn’t reply. He conjured Lillith’s face, blank with terror as the ‘client’ Slade had forced on her approached. His captor expected the impossible, or at least the improbable, and he already knew the price of failure.

  “I’m sure you doubt your capacity to live up to my expectations,” Slade went on. “So I have something for you that will ensure your success.”

  “Damn it, leave her alone!” He stood halfway from the chair. The scuffling sounds resumed from the back of the room.

  “Sit down,” Slade snapped. “Your precious sister is safe, for now.”

  Gabriel backed down, turned toward the sound — and Doc materialized at the edge of the light. His face reflected pure misery and resignation. When he stepped closer, Gabriel saw the syringe in his hand.

  “No!” He shot to his feet, knocking over the chair with a resounding clatter.

  The sound seemed to be a signal. The door flew open. Apollo launched himself at him and bore him to the floor. Through sheer brute force, the bigger man wrenched his arms behind his back and jerked him to his feet, where he met Doc’s haunted visage.

  “Sorry, kid,” Doc muttered. With his free hand, he pulled up the sleeve of Gabriel’s shirt. “Struggling won’t do you any good. If you don’t hold still, he’ll just knock you out and I’ll have to give it to you anyway.”

  “What is it?” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “It’s … a performance enhancer.”

  The needle hovered inches from his skin. He stilled, and then twisted violently to the left, away from Doc. He managed to break free of Apollo’s grasp. “You little shit,” Apollo growled. The thug lunged for him, missed.

  “Marcus, you truly are a fool.”

  Jenner spoke from the doorway, his tone dripping disgust. The occupants of the room froze.

  Slade recovered first. “I told you to stay out of this. Angel doesn’t concern you anymore.”

  “You did, and I am. It is not about the boy. This concerns House Ulysses.” Jenner stepped inside and flipped a switch on the wall. Soft light emanated from the baseboards, revealing rich furnishings around the perimeter that banished the illusion of a bare interrogation room. “You have just levered charges of cheating against Prometheus, and now you would sabotage your own fighters?”

  “This isn’t sabotage. It’s insurance.”

  “It will only ensure your downfall.” Jenner glanced at Gabriel. “Besides, I am certain the boy does not need enhancement to win.”

  “What makes you so sure about that?”

  “He’s right. I don’t need that shit.” Gabriel straightened and stared calmly at Slade. “I’ll get your damned money without it.”

  “Oh, really?” Slade returned the gaze, his ice blue eyes piercing and intense.

  He stood his ground, refusing to move, to breathe, to even blink as long as Slade scrutinized him.

  At last, Slade laughed. “Yes. I believe you will, boy.” He shook his head. “My instructions still stand, Jenner. You’re not to interfere. Apollo, stay with me. The rest of you leave.”

  Jenner exited first, with he and Doc close behind. Doc pulled the door shut and released a long breath. “Damn. That was close.”

  “No closer than you allowed, doctor.” Jenner started down the corridor.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  The lieutenant stopped. “It means precisely what I said. You would have allowed this nonsense to continue.”

  “You son of a bitch! Do you think I wanted to—”

  “Doc.” Gabriel gripped his shoulder in what he hoped was reassurance. “Come on, Jenner. We all have our reasons for doing what we’re told. Including you.”

  “You are far too forgiving, angel.”

  “Maybe. At least I’m not a heartless bastard.”

  For an instant, Jenner seemed to stiffen. Must have been his imagination.

  “Perhaps it is better to be a heartless bastard than a doormat.” Jenner spoke softly, though his anger came through loud and clear. “And perhaps you have learned nothing after all.” He strode away to disappear around a corner ahead.

  Doc cleared his throat. “Uh, Gabriel? Maybe that was a little much. I mean, I hate Jenner just as much as the next guy, and he did insult me … but he also stopped Slade from drugging you.”

  “Shit.” He stared down the empty corridor. “Do you think I hurt his feelings?”

  A strangled cough that might have been a laugh escaped Doc. “I doubt it. Jenner and feelings are active enemies. I think he’d rather swallow broken glass than admit to having them. Still, you were a bit harsh.”

  “Yeah. I guess.” He frowned. Jenner had intervened, but he’d also made it clear that his intentions had nothing to do with him. If it were anyone else, he might have suspected the lieutenant had clarified just so Slade wouldn’t have a reason to refuse. With Jenner, he just as likely meant what he said.

  Besides, heartless bastards didn’t appreciate apologies.

  Chapter 29

  Full dark had fallen by the time the yacht reached its de
stination. Behind them, the lights of New York’s famous skyline were tiny jewels embedded in the silken backdrop of night.

  Before them, House Pandora’s private island loomed like the setting of a Grimm Brothers fairy tale.

  Two other boats bobbed and swayed on the ends of their tethers, tied to a long wooden dock that would have looked at home spanning a ravine in Tibet. A stone path wound onto the island from the end of the dock, snaking under a tall black wrought-iron gate to disappear into a rich green forest. Small, colorful lanterns dotted the walkway, extending up from the grass on black poles.

  And rising above the trees, dominating the center of the island, was a palace.

  Illuminated from the ground up with muted spotlights, the three-story structure appeared to consist of individual buildings stacked on top of each other, from widest to smallest. Polished ebony slats of wood formed the low walls, and the tall tiled roofs, blood red in the wash of light, bore the distinctive curvature of Japanese architecture.

  A shiver of awe swallowed Gabriel. This island, with its terrible beauty, was Akuma’s world. And he felt like an intruder.

  Slade and Jenner approached — the former impatient, the latter oddly relaxed. “Come on,” Slade said to him.

  He followed the pair down the gangplank and onto the dock. They stopped, and Apollo and Sol soon joined them.

  Near the iron gate, two black-clad men stood to one side. Both young and slender, they looked off into the distant darkness with identical bored expressions, occasionally addressing each other in brisk Japanese.

  “Good evening, Mr. Slade,” one of them said when the group reached the entrance. The other glanced at Jenner and inclined his head slightly. Jenner returned the wordless greeting in similar fashion.

  Another figure, this one in black silk with red piping along the sleeves and legs, dropped silently from the branches of a nearby tree, turning Gabriel’s curiosity to full-fledged shock. The man approached them, stopped in front of Jenner and bowed deeply at the waist.