Infernum Omnibus

by Percival Constantine

  The bottle contained golden alcohol and inside the bottle was a large cobra. Its mouth was open and its lifeless eyes stared at Flint. Venom raised the bottle and filled each glass, then returned it to its resting spot. Flint locked eyes with the snake as he sipped the burning liquor.

  “What brings you here, my friend?” he asked.

  “The band sounds nice,” said Flint.

  Venom nodded. “They’re not bad. Although no one ever played like you. How’s the music treating you?”

  “I play a little at my dive.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re running that cesspool. Your talents are wasted there. A man of your skill should be using it.”

  Flint slowly exhaled the smoke from his mouth. “Which skill are we talking about, Johnny?”

  Venom shrugged. “Take your pick, my friend.” He sipped his drink. “I would hope that the reason you came here tonight was because you’d like to get back on my stage. But considering what you have under that old coat, I’m assuming it’s for another reason. I heard he was in town. Cleaning a little house.”

  “Relax, you’re not the target.”

  “Oh, I know that. If I were, you’d be much more subtle about it. You may have been out of the game for a while, but rusty doesn’t equal stupid. Still, I thought you were done with the game. What brought you back?”

  Flint raised the glass to his lips. “Jackal came to my place last night.” He threw it back and drained the glass. Once he set it on the table, Johnny Venom filled it up again. “He said Dan—”

  “Watch what you say in this place, Carl. There’s more than one person around here who might be interested at sending him a message through a dead operative.”

  “Sorry. Jackal says the boss has a job for me, here in the city. Said it’s urgent and I’m the most convenient guy to come to.”

  Venom reached inside his jacket and drew a silver cigarette case. “That’s interesting.”

  “Why is it interesting?”

  Drawing a single cigarette from the case, Venom held it out to Flint, who motioned to his cigarillo. “It’s interesting because he already has someone in town.”

  Flint cocked an eyebrow. “Who? I wasn’t aware of any players in the area.”

  “Maybe because she’s not really a player. She was turned.”

  “Turned from what? Bureau? Special Forces?”

  Johnny Venom lit the cigarette with a gold Zippo lighter that had a cobra engraved on it. “Higher.”

  Flint scoffed. “Agency.”

  Venom clicked his tongue as confirmation.

  “Oh hell,” muttered Flint. “He wants me to hit an operative, doesn’t he? That’s why he’s not using her.”

  “Word on the grapevine is he’s had some close calls. Body count so far is three guys he used to do business with. They all had friends in high places. I’ve had to cool tempers more than once around here in the past few days.” Venom took another drag on the cigarette and blew out a few smoke rings. “Listen Carl, you’re one of the few people in this business I trust.”

  “I’m not in this busi—”

  “You know what I mean. Normally, I wouldn’t interfere in his affairs. We stay out of each other’s way and everyone’s happy. But this time, he’s got some heavy heat on him. And if you get involved with him, that means it’s going to start getting pretty warm.” Venom finished his drink and poured himself another. “But hey, there’s nothing to worry about. He just made you an offer, it’s not like you’re going to accept.”

  Flint remained silent as he stamped out the cigarillo. Venom watched him carefully with his one good eye. “Carl, look at me. You did tell Jackal where he could stick this job, right?”

  “He gave me twenty-four hours to think it over.”

  “You stupid son of a bitch,” muttered Venom. “Do you have a death wish or something? Have you become so pathetic that you don’t even have the balls to end your worthless life yourself?”

  “Easy there. You’ve been good to me in the past, but friendship won’t stop me from slapping you around,” said Flint.

  “This is me slapping some sense into you,” said Venom. “What possible reason would you have for coming out of retirement? For taking on a job with this much risk?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “I know he pays well, but if you really need money that bad, you’re always welcome to come back here and play. Wouldn’t even need to pick up a weapon again.”

  “It’s not the money,” said Flint. “It’s not...just the money.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I dunno.” Flint sighed. “Look, the reason I left the business the first time is because I was reckless.”

  “The pregnant woman, right?”

  Flint nodded. “The baby survived, she’s living in an orphanage now. What I should’ve done is take that money from the job and give it to her. But I was so pissed with myself and so pissed with Dante that I turned down the cash. This is my chance to make good. One last job and then I’m done, I don’t have to worry about this world any more.”

  “One last job is like one last cigarette—there will always be another,” said Venom. “When are you meeting him?”

  “Two hours from now.”

  “Is it him or his errand boy?”

  Flint shrugged. “I’m assuming it’ll be Jackal, but you never know with this guy. You know he likes to be hands-on.”

  “Do yourself a favor.” Venom slid the bottle closer to him. “Finish this bottle then borrow a sax from the band and play a set. Then I’ll give you another bottle. All of it on the house and you’ll even get paid for the set. Stay out here all night, skip the meeting.”

  Flint shook his head. “Can’t do it, Johnny.”

  “What is this, some sort of mid-life crisis? Are you trying to validate your manhood or something? Because there are better ways to do it.”

  “I didn’t come here for this shit, I just came here—”

  “If you say advice, I will smash this bottle and shove it up your ass,” said Venom. “Don’t bullshit me, Flint. We both know why you came here—you want validation. You want me to tell you this is a good idea, that this is something you should do. And if you were any other person, I might play along. But I can’t do that—I respect you too much. You’re a good man, too good to be involved with this and definitely too good to get killed over it.”

  Flint refilled his glass. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

  “Then listen to me because I know what I’m talking about. If you get involved with this, you’ll either end up dead or in some black site prison. Is that really what you want?”

  “As long as he fulfills his part of the bargain, that’s all I care about.”

  “What, the money? Carl, you have no family and you can’t use that money if you’re dead or thrown into some hole. What good is it going to do if you roll snake eyes?”

  “I never said the money was for me.” Flint finished the drink in one gulp and set the glass down as he stood up. “Tell your boy I’m sorry for roughing him up.”

  Johnny waved his hand. “He had it coming.”

  Flint extended his hand. “You’re a good friend, Johnny.”

  Johnny Venom hesitated before he gripped it in his own. “Watch your back, Carl. I don’t trust him.”

  “Big surprise there.”

  “I’m serious. He’s a lying, manipulative bastard. And I should know—we can smell our own.”

  Flint’s face cracked a slight grin. “Thanks for the drink.”

  NOW

  Flint’s eyes opened to the sound of pounding on his door. He got up from his chair and opened it, surprised to see the young face of Tanya Cruz staring back at him. Flint leaned against the frame.

  “What are you doing here?” He noticed something—her eyes were red and she was breathing heavily. Flint opened the door wider. “What happened?”

  “I didn’t see you all week.” She entered his house, moving into the living room. Flint lo
oked outside and then closed the door.

  “Day after we last met, Reyes came by with Suárez’s guys. Thought it best I lay low for a while. I don’t wanna cause any trouble for Antonio. And if they saw you with me, they might try to take out their anger on you.”

  “Maybe they already have,” said Tanya, lowering her head.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Flint.

  Tanya turned and faced him, one of her hands covering her mouth. When she moved it, Flint could tell she was on the verge of bursting into tears. “I think they already saw us.”

  Tanya looked down, tears starting to well up in her eyes. “They’ve taken my brother, Victor.”

  “Suárez’s men?” asked Flint.

  “Can you do something?” asked Tanya.

  “I don’t—”

  She clasped her hands together and moved closer to him. “Please! You don’t know what these people are like! And I heard about how you helped Antonio, how you stood up to them!”

  “Reyes made it pretty clear that things would be tough on me if I went after Suárez’s men.”

  Tanya lowered her head, resting it on Flint’s chest. “Do you remember what you told me the other night, Joe?”

  “Not quite, memory’s a bit fuzzy. I drank a bit too much that night.”

  Tanya looked up at him with wide, brown eyes. “You told me you always tried to do the right thing. I think you are a good man. And if you are, how can you let Suárez get away with what he does to this town?”

  Flint pushed her away. He walked towards the door. Hanging on a rack near it was his coat. Also hanging from that rack were his gun belts. He drew one of the revolvers from the holster and felt the weight of it in his hand. He walked closer to Tanya and then aimed the gun at her forehead. She retreated away from him, but Flint grabbed her arm. Holding her steady, he pressed the barrel against her soft, dark hair.

  “You wanna know what kind of man I am, lady? I’ve probably killed more people than you can imagine. I killed for governments. I killed for corporations. I killed for anyone that had the money. And I did it indiscriminately. You wanna clean up your town?”

  Flint tossed the gun and grabbed it by the barrel. He held it out to Tanya with the hilt pointing towards her. Tanya looked up and slowly wrapped her fingers around the handle. Flint stepped away and turned his back on her.

  “You can do it your own damn self.”

  Tanya’s face twisted in anger and she threw the gun at Flint. It missed him, going over his shoulder and striking the wall. He spun on his heel. “Are you crazy? What if the damn thing went off?”

  “What, it might kill you? Seems I’d be doing you a favor!”

  Flint leaned against the wall. “You might be right.”

  “I don’t care what you’ve done before. I care about what you can do now,” she said. “You are the only one who has stood up to Suárez’s men, and you did it because you saw someone in trouble. Well now, my brother is in trouble. And I am asking you to help me get him back. If you turn me away, I will know what kind of man you really are—a coward.”

  He knelt down and picked up the gun. Flint stood and ran his fingers over the chamber and the barrel. “Suárez’s men, why did they take your brother?”

  “They call it ‘making an offer.’ They take people from the town, ask them to work for them. Take things over the border.”

  “Drug mules,” said Flint.

  “Yes. And if a person says no...”

  “Suárez makes an example out of them.”

  Tanya offered a solemn nod. Flint cast her a sideways glance. “You realize that if I do this, they’re gonna know it was you who talked to me. This is only gonna get worse for you and yours.”

  “Then I suppose you should make sure there is no one left to talk about what happens.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Tanya moved closer and wrapped her arms around Flint’s torso. “Thank you, Señor Lawrence. Without you, I don’t know what I would do.”

  Flint pulled away from her. “You can thank me once your brother’s safe.”

  ***

  Sheriff Reyes wiped his forehead with a face towel. He turned the small fan on his desk so it aimed directly at him. He picked up the newspaper and fanned himself with it to gain a little more comfort.

  “When are we going to get an air conditioner?” asked one of his deputies sitting at one of the nearby desks.

  “When you take a salary cut to pay for it,” said Reyes.

  The sound of a ringing bell came from the other side of the door. Reyes looked at the deputy. “Is anyone out front?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “So why are you still sitting on your ass?” asked Reyes. “Get out there!”

  The deputy muttered curses in Spanish as he stood from the desk. He opened the door and slammed it behind him. Reyes shook his head and opened the newspaper, scanning over the headlines.

  “UGH!”

  Reyes looked up and saw the deputy pushed up against the door’s window. The deputy was pulled back and then thrown through the window.

  “Sonnuva bitch!” muttered Reyes, reaching for his gun. Before he could pull it out, the door was kicked in and Carl Flint stepped into the room. He pointed a revolver at Reyes’ head and pulled back the hammer.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Señor Lawrence...do you have any idea what you’re doing?” asked Reyes.

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” said Flint. “You’re going to tell me where Suárez’s men are holed up.”

  “And why would I do something like that?” asked Reyes.

  “Because if you don’t, you’re going to find out just how disagreeable I can get.”

  Reyes chuckled. “Señor Lawrence, anything you threaten me with is nothing compared to what Señor Suárez would do to me.”

  He picked up his coffee mug. Flint shifted his gun just slightly and fired. The bullet shattered the mug, the hot coffee spilling all over Reyes’ lap. He stood up suddenly, his teeth clamped together from the pain, trying to shake it off. Flint stepped forward and cocked the gun again, his sight fixed on Reyes’ forehead.

  “You have no idea how many places a man can be shot in without dying. We’re talking very painful places,” said Flint. “Or in other words—I’m here now. Worry about me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing. If you go after Suárez, it will be the last thing you ever do. He is not a man who pisses around.”

  “Then we’ve got something in common,” said Flint.

  “There’s an old hotel just outside of town. That’s where you’ll likely find them.

  “One more thing,” said Flint. “Your keys.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” asked Reyes.

  “I don’t have a car, so I’ll need yours.”

  Reyes sighed. He picked up his keys off the desk and tossed them. Flint caught them with his free hand, the gun never wavering. He slowly backed out of the room, keeping the gun trained on Reyes. He ran out quickly and once Reyes heard the engine starting and the car drive off, he picked up his phone, dialing a number from memory.

  “It’s Reyes. He’s on his way.”

  THEN

  “Evening boss,” said Mickey.

  Flint walked up to the counter and leaned against it. “Anything happening yet?”

  “Been slow tonight, had a few people stop in for a round but that’s about it.” Mickey reached under the bar and dropped a pile of envelopes on the counter. “The mail.”

  “Thanks.” Flint leafed through the messages rapidly. All bills or junk advertisements. He removed the ads and left them on the counter while keeping the rest. “Trash that. I’ll be in the office if anyone comes lookin’ for me.”

  “Expecting company?”

  “Might say that.” Flint walked past the counter to a door with STAFF stamped on its face. Inside was a small desk and a coat rack. Flint dropped the mail on the desk and also set the revolver beside the letters. He stripped th
e duster from his form, throwing it on the rack. With a hunting knife on the desk, Flint opened the first envelope once he sat.

  As he looked over the bills, Flint felt an odd sensation. Like he was being watched. He set the knife down on the desk and picked up the revolver and slowly stood. Walking to the closet, Flint felt his heart beat faster. He reached out, holding his gun at the ready and slowly opened the door. Instantly, he aimed the gun and found absolutely nothing. Except for a few old jackets and some boxes lining the floor and the top shelf, the closet was empty.

  Flint breathed a sigh and lowered the gun. He shouldn’t have gone to the Cobra Club, the talk with Johnny Venom had made him paranoid. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, he should just tell Jackal that he didn’t want to take the job. What he really needed was a way to unwind, something to relax.

  Before Flint could think another thought, a black-clad figure dropped silently from the ceiling. He moved without a sound and raised his hands up. He brought them over Flint’s head, pulling a wire against Flint’s neck. Flint grabbed the wire, trying to pull it free but the assassin was strong. The elder marksman threw his weight into his attacker, forcing them both against the wall. It stunned the assailant and allowed Flint a moment to elbow him in his ribs. Flint’s leg reached between the hit man’s and went behind it. He pulled the hit man’s leg from the ground, causing the assassin to stumble. Flint escaped from the wire and brought up his revolver, aiming it at the attacker’s head.

  “Easy there, Carlton,” said the black-clad man in a voice that sounded very familiar. A slightly sophisticated accent but difficult to tell which part of the world it came from. The man shed his mask and revealed platinum blond hair combed back neatly. His eyebrows were a dark brown, like his facial hair—which was styled in an unusual way. Two strips of hair running from the edges of his upper lip down to his chin and another strip down the middle of his chin. His crystal eyes held a spark in them, and his smirk betrayed his arrogance.

  “You wouldn’t want to shoot the man you stand to profit handsomely from.”

  Flint lowered the gun, slightly surprised at how unnerved he was. “Dante. Didn’t expect you here.”