Infernum Omnibus

by Percival Constantine

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “A white face in a small town like this has a tendency to stick out, so why don’t you tell me what you actually know about Lawrence?”

  “Jesus lady, what’s wrong with you!”

  Julie quickly patted him down and then turned him around. Antonio raised his hands in the air as Julie took a step back, steadying the gun with her other hand. “The man you know as Joe Lawrence is actually a lethal assassin named Carl Flint. I’m here on behalf of the U.S. Government and I’m here to bring him in for numerous crimes he’s committed both on American and Mexican soil.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Old Man Joe is the best thing to ever happen to this town.”

  “You have no idea what you’re bringing down on yourself, buddy. Flint is dangerous.”

  “Suárez has terrorized this town. Floods it with drugs. If Old Man Joe can stop it, he’s a hero to us.”

  Julie shook her head. “My god, you people have some really bizarre ideas about heroism.”

  “You don’t live here. You don’t know what we have to deal with every single day.”

  “Maybe, but—”

  Julie sighed as she felt the feel of cold metal pushed up against the back of her head.

  “Drop the gun.”

  “Dammit,” she muttered as she held out her hands to her side and let her weapon fall to the ground.

  “Antonio, get back inside,” said Flint.

  “Thank you, Joe,” said Antonio and he ran back inside the bar.

  “Now you, turn around. Slowly.”

  Julie did as she was ordered and for the first time in months, laid her eyes on the face of the man responsible for the death of her partner.

  “Agent Kim. This is a surprise,” said Flint. “Wasn’t expecting to ever see you again.”

  “I was hoping I wouldn’t see you, either. But plans have a way of changing, don’t they?” asked Julie. “Put down the gun, Flint. I want to talk.”

  “I prefer keeping it up.”

  “You sure you want to kill an operative?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time. How’d you find me?”

  “Your actions threw up a red flag with the Agency. Ran your identity and found out who you really were.”

  “And why would anything I’ve done here send the Agency running so fast?” asked Flint. “Unless...”

  “I think the Agency’s got an investment in Suárez’s operations.”

  “So are you here to kill me for Pierce or for interfering with Suárez?” asked Flint.

  “Why did you barbecue the sheriff?”

  “He was on Suárez’s payroll. Offered to help me take down Suárez provided I let him take over the cartel. So I decided to show everyone just how far I’m willing to take this.”

  “Seems pretty far,” said Julie.

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”

  “The files on Suárez are classified, I couldn’t access them. When I confronted my superiors, I was told in so many words to keep my mouth shut.”

  “So you’ve gone AWOL,” said Flint.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” said Julie. “Originally, planned to come here to bring you down for Christian.”

  “And now?”

  “I’ve dug up some information on the Suárez cartel from outside sources. The things they’ve done make you look like a boy scout in comparison.”

  Flint lowered his gun. “Wait just a damn minute. Do you mean to tell me you’re here to help me?”

  “Taking down Suárez is the right thing to do, regardless of what the Agency tells me. So yeah, I’m here to help.”

  “And what happens when you get back to the Agency? Think they’ll let this slide?”

  “You let me worry about that,” said Julie.

  “And Pierce?”

  Julie hesitated, glancing down at her gun, still laying on the ground. She looked back up at Flint. There was no denying she wanted him dead, but the situation was no longer black and white. Suárez needed to be put down, the Agency would only take him out to replace him with someone more complacent, and that meant the only back-up she had was an assassin responsible for the murder of her partner.

  “We can settle our score over Christian after the smoke clears,” she said. “But for now, consider us on the same side.”

  Flint holstered his weapon. “Fair enough.”

  Julie picked up her gun and slid it into her shoulder holster. “So what do you have in mind?”

  “You mean in terms of a plan?” asked Flint.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  Flint gestured towards her rental. “That yours?”

  Julie nodded.

  “Good, I’ll take you to base camp,” said Flint. “Give me the keys, I’m driving.”

  Julie tossed him the keys and Flint climbed into the driver’s seat. She barely closed the door on the passenger side before Flint hit the gas and sped past the town border. A few minutes later, they pulled up to an old, run-down hotel. Flint entered the hotel and led Julie inside. In the office was a table set up with a shotgun, a rocket-propelled grenade launcher, an AK-47 assault rifle and several grenades. On the walls were photographs pinned up of various people, including a very large mansion with shots taken from different angles.

  “This is the plan,” said Flint. “We hit ‘em hard and we hit ‘em fast. We don’t stop until Suárez is dead.”

  “Flint, this looks like a suicide run,” said Julie.

  He began checking the ammunition on his weapons. “It is.”

  “Excuse me for being a downer, but I kind of want to survive this,” said Julie.

  “For what purpose?” asked Flint, laying down the shotgun. “So you can go back to the Agency, going after a few bad guys while they let the rest stay in action because it serves their interests?”

  “And why don’t you care about your own self-preservation?”

  “You said it yourself, Kim—once this is over, we’re going to settle our score. Maybe this will settle it for us.”

  “That’s not an answer. I find it hard to believe that killing one Agency operative has left you this suicidal.”

  Flint paused. He ran his fingers over a few grenades laid out. “It was the job before Pierce. Dante sent me after this war profiteer. Someone who defrauded the Defense Department out of billions. He was investigated but the charges were dropped. Had some very powerful friends.” Flint’s eyes went up to meet Julie’s. “Some of those friends are the people you work for.”

  “So what happened?” asked Julie.

  “The op went south. Target was getting away and I had to chase after him on foot. There was a firefight, right out in the open in the middle of a city. And in the fray, I got careless. I accidentally shot a pregnant woman.

  “They rushed her to the hospital. They saved the baby but the mother didn’t make it. She had no other family, so the kid ended up in an orphanage.

  “It was supposed to be my last job. The money from that hit would’ve been perfect for my wife and I to leave the States, move to the Caribbean. We had a place picked out and everything. But after what happened...I couldn’t accept the money.”

  “Is that why she left you?” asked Julie.

  “I never kept any secrets from her,” said Flint. “Melissa knew what I was. She knew what I did. Sure, she wanted me to stop, but she didn’t voice a lot of opposition when Dante’s checks cleared.”

  He lit a cigarillo.

  “So when I turned down the money from that last hit, she was pissed. Said I shouldn’t let one accident ruin our retirement. She told me I needed to go back to Dante, get the money and we could start over fresh. But I refused. Told her I was putting my foot down. And then she gave me an ultimatum. She told me to get out and not to come back until I had the money. So I left. Few months later, I sent her the divorce papers.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of that.”r />
  “I opened up Outlaw Blues after that. I had some cash saved away, not enough to retire in the style Melissa’d grown accustomed to. But it was enough to keep the place afloat. Then, Dante came to me a few months ago, offered me the Pierce job. With the money from that, I could set up a trust fund for Sarah.”

  “Sarah?”

  “The baby I made an orphan.” Flint puffed on the end of the cigarillo. “One more life, didn’t seem like too much to ask if it meant I could at least make up somewhat for the pain I’d caused that little girl.

  “Problem is, I didn’t realize how hard it would be. Killing Pierce, it’s eaten at me, I can tell you that.”

  “I guess I understand. At least a little bit,” said Julie. “Doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

  Flint huffed. “I don’t forgive myself, Kim. What makes you think I’d believe you would? I’m not telling you this because I want your sympathy or your mercy. When this is over, you’d be doing the world a goddamn favor by putting a bullet in my head.”

  “So why are you telling me?” asked Julie.

  “You asked.”

  Julie paced around the room, reviewing the photographs posted up. There were also a few timetables. She pointed at them. “What are these?”

  “That’s when the guards change shifts. They seem to have it down to a routine.”

  “And why all this?” asked Julie. “This has nothing to do with Sarah. She won’t benefit if you take out Suárez.”

  “No, she won’t. And at first, I was going to stay out of this. But that bartender you pointed your gun at, he’s been good to me since I came here. Some of Suárez’s men were giving him trouble and I stepped in. That’s what put me on the radar.

  “After that, I started getting grief from the sheriff who warned me to stay away from Suárez. This woman in town, Tanya, also came to me. Asked me to help her brother, who Suárez’s boys took. I did, only to find out that she set me up to take out the competition. I confronted the sheriff and he told me the truth about Suárez.”

  “And what truth is that?” asked Julie.

  “Suárez is dead. Has been for years,” said Flint. “Back in Colombia, Tanya was in love with Suárez’s son. Except Suárez wanted her for himself. So Tanya and the son, they killed dear old Dad, took over his operation and his identity. Since Suárez was always pretty private, it was easy.”

  “This is because they used you?” asked Julie.

  “This is because all I wanted was some goddamn peace and no one will let me have it. So if I’m gonna go out, might as well go out doing something right. Now are you in or not?”

  Julie looked down at the weapons, then back at the photographs and the timetable. And finally, her eyes drifted over to Flint. Even with his grizzled appearance, his weathered eyes, he looked different from when Julie last saw him. He looked like he had a purpose again. And it was one she could get behind.

  “I’m in.”

  “Good. Now here’s the plan.”

  THEN

  The elevator doors opened at the top floor. Flint stepped out, slightly hunched over and holding his duster coat closed. As usual, there was a line outside the Cobra Club. Flint simply walked on the other side of the velvet rope, his eyes locking on the big bouncer—Kevin—who he encountered before. Kevin saw him coming and already folded his arms and stepped forward.

  “Wanna tell me what you’re doin’ here aga—”

  Before Kevin could finish his sentence, Flint pulled the shotgun from under his coat and slammed the butt against Kevin’s jaw. Holding the weapon with both hands, Flint struck him again with it and then used it to sweep Kevin’s legs out from under him. Kevin tried to get up, but Flint pointed the barrel at his head.

  The people in line backed off, some of them completely abandoning their plans for the night and filling the elevator or running to the stairwell. Flint ignored them, just kept his weathered eyes trained on the bouncer.

  “You really gonna try givin’ me shit tonight?”

  A grin slowly appeared on Kevin’s face. That combined with the shadow Flint now noticed falling over him gave away the bouncer attempting to sneak up on him.

  Flint threw his body weight back, striking the bouncer in the chest and taking him by surprise. The bouncer hit the wall, hard. Flint spun around and clocked his assailant with the shotgun barrel. Then he kicked the man in the knee and brought him down to the ground.

  Walking past the two felled guards, Flint entered the Cobra Club and raised the shotgun into the air. He fired and the loud boom caused the band to stop playing. The conversations died and all eyes fell on him.

  Flint held the shotgun at the ready, one finger resting on the trigger, the other hand clutching the barrel. He stalked through the lounge with purposeful strides, moving out to the terrace. Only one person remained standing—Johnny Venom himself.

  Johnny’s hands were clasped behind his back and his remaining eye held a glint of anger in it. His lips were twisted downward and he waited until Flint stalked closer, aiming the shotgun at his old friend.

  “There are more civilized ways of getting my attention, Carl.”

  “Civilized. That’s a funny word comin’ from a snake like you, Johnny.”

  The brow over Venom’s good eye rose up in confusion. “I feel a little like a guy who’s walked into a movie after the second act. Are there some pieces to this story I’m missing, Carl? Last time we met, it was on very good terms.”

  “How about the part where you’re on the Agency’s payroll?”

  “Oh. That,” said Johnny. “Why don’t you lower the gun and we can talk about this over a drink.”

  “Think we’re past the point for a nightcap.”

  “It’s never too late for a nightcap, my friend.”

  Flint raised the shotgun so the sight was level with his eye. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for jokes, Johnny?”

  “No, you look like a man who’s about to make the last mistake of his life,” said Johnny. “The only reason my security team hasn’t erased you from the face of the planet is because I haven’t given them the signal. But rest assured, if you pull that trigger, they’ll be all over you.”

  “‘Least I’ll get rid of the snake who sold me out.”

  “Sold you—what are you babbling about?” asked Johnny. There was genuine confusion in his tone. A betrayal of his usual stoic veneer. Carl Flint had known Johnny Venom for a very long time. He was probably the only friend Flint still had in this world. If Johnny was putting him on, he was doing a damn good job of covering it up from one of his closest friends.

  Flint lowered the shotgun. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

  “Follow me,” said Johnny. He walked past Flint, his hands still clasped behind his back. Flint held the gun by the barrel and cast his eyes around the frightened crowd. He also noted Kevin and the other bouncer, both of them glaring at him. Flint gave them a wink before he followed Johnny.

  At the end of a small corridor was Johnny’s office. He opened the door and motioned for Flint to enter first. This office could have held around ten of Flint’s. It was extremely spacious, with a large desk in front of a huge window overlooking the city lights. Two high-backed chairs with red cushions rested in front of the desk and Flint took a seat in one. Johnny went to a small bar in the corner of the room. Sitting on the bar was a bottle of the snake wine with a dead cobra staring out, its teeth bared. Johnny filled two glasses with the alcohol and placed one in front of Flint. He sat on the edge of the desk and sipped his own drink.

  “How long have you been working for the Agency?” asked Flint.

  “I don’t work for them, I’m an independent contractor,” said Johnny. “Occasionally, they ask me to help out with some consultation or they need some sort of chemical agent, either in interrogations or assassinations. I don’t ask questions, I give them what they ask for. In exchange, I get paid handsomely and I become a ghost to the law enforcement agencies of the world.”

  “They also pay you to inform on yo
ur old business associates?” asked Flint.

  “Of course not. It’s all about the present. My terms with them are very clear.”

  “Who’s Julie Kim?”

  Johnny sipped his snake wine. “She’s an operative. A bit green. Doesn’t have a clue what’s really going on over there.”

  “I could tell. And her partner is the man Dante hired me to kill.”

  Johnny slid off the desk and circled around to the window, his back facing Flint. “I warned you, Carl. I warned you getting involved with him again would only bring you trouble.”

  “Kim came to my bar. There was very little the Agency didn’t have on me. They know I worked for Dante, know I retired, they even know that I came in here a few weeks ago.” Flint gulped down his drink and slammed it on the desk. “And then I find out you’re working with them?”

  Johnny snapped at him. “Carl, you’re one of my oldest friends, but you are treading on very thin ice right now. You come into my club, beat up my bouncers, and point a goddamn shotgun at my face! And then you accuse me of betrayal?”

  “Seems pretty convenient, doesn’t it?” Flint stood and picked up the bottle. He refilled the glass himself, his eyes never breaking gaze with Johnny. “I show up here, and Kim tells me I’ve popped up on the radar. I tell you I’m doing a job for Dante and a few weeks after, Kim shows up at my door.”

  “Did you kill her?” asked Johnny.

  “No. She wasn’t there to bring me in, she was there to offer me a deal. Is that your doing? Some sort of way to get me out of this life as well as take down Dante?”

  “I told you once, I don’t work for them. I’m an independent contractor. I don’t inform.”

  “Why didn’t she bring me in? Why did she know I was here? How did she know I was the one who killed Pierce?”

  “She didn’t bring you in because it’s obvious she thinks you’re more useful as an informant. She knows you were here because you used to be a player in the old days and there are lots of people who run in the Agency’s circles who frequent my establishment.”

  “None of that explains how she knew I was the triggerman,” said Flint.

  “You’re right, it doesn’t,” said Johnny. “But you have my word, Carl—it was not me. Kim doesn’t even know about my associations with the Agency.”