The Fox, the Dog, and the King

by Matt Doyle

  “Sunglasses?” Devin laughs. “Well, I suppose he doesn’t ever take the things off. What do ya call me? Cowboy Hat?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a ton of pleasant names, just for you.”

  Devin laughs again and cocks another gun. “You’re gonna want to speed up now, Caz. That black van we passed back there is about to start following us.”

  “Great,” I mumble and pull out beside the car in front, hitting the gas as I do, so that we can overtake.

  The sound of gunfire rings out behind us, and I can see the bullets ricocheting off the back window in the rearview mirror. I fight not to panic and swerve around another car while Devin pops up out of the sunroof, fires off a few shots, and drops back down again. “This’d be so much easier if I was trying to kill them,” he grumbles.

  “Any reason you aren’t?”

  “I’m hopin’ that’s gonna be obvious before death becomes a necessity,” he replies and pops up for another round.

  I swing us around a corner and immediately start heading for another, speeding across oncoming traffic like oh so many idiots I’ve yelled at before me. As I near the end of the street, another van skids out across the path and someone leans out the window, pointing a handgun right at me. They squeeze the trigger and fire off three quick shots. Devin’s windscreen holds better than my nerve, and I hit panic mode, slamming on the brakes and sending the car into a spin. We collide with the second van, jolting the shooter back, and that buys me enough time to find the accelerator again. I slam my foot down, and we rocket forward, barely managing to swerve past the first van as it rounds the corner.

  “Keep calm, Caz,” Devin says. “You’ve had a gun in your face before.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve also been in a position to fight back. That’s not so easy with your hands on a steering wheel.”

  We tear through the street the wrong way, sending several other cars screeching onto the sidewalk as they lose our accidental game of chicken. Eventually, I hit another turning and manage to get us back on track, but by then, both vans are once again on our tail and have spread themselves across both sides of the road. The front passenger in one fires off a few rounds and Devin tries to pop up to return fire, but the second van’s passenger immediately unleashes off a few rounds of his own. “Damn,” Devin growls. “They’re working in relay.”

  Devin grabs a small handgun and reaches the barrel up through the sunroof. He turns his head back towards the rear window and squeezes the trigger, trying to get a decent aim. The first clip empties with no damage done, and he quickly switches it out and goes straight back to firing. A stray shot manages to catch one of the van’s wing mirror’s just as the front passenger leans out, and the guy yanks his body back into the vehicle.

  We’re still too far from the station. And what happens when we get there? Sweepers won’t worry about shooting someone right in front of the cops if they have to. I slam my hand onto the horn, sending a pedestrian scurrying for the safety of the footpath, then glance at the rearview mirror again. It’s beginning to look like we’re pulling away from them. No, wait. They’re stopping . Why are they stopping?

  Devin stares out the back window and says, “If they ain’t back by the time we pass the car dealership two blocks on, pull over.”

  I nod and do as he says, eventually bringing us to a stop in the car park behind said dealership. “What’s going on?”

  “Sunglasses, as you so eloquently called him, came through. They’re off our backs.”

  “Why?” Castleford asks.

  “Because you’ve now got yourself a choice. See, you’re gonna be delivered to the police, just like Caz here planned. When you get there, you’re gonna be interviewed by Donal O’Brien. You know that name, right?”

  Castleford nods and Devin turns to me. “Caz, I gotta ask. Did he tell you what he dug up on the esteemed Mr. Fuerza?”

  “Not entirely. I think I can piece the rest together, though.”

  “Well, shit.” Devin pauses. I catch a nervous twitch on his lips as he says, “Sum up what you think you know, but be careful with your wording. You never know who’s listening.”

  I turn to Castleford and narrow my eyes. “I think I know who Allen Fuerza really is.”

  Devin sighs. “You know that list I said you’re on?” I nod, and he pats my back. “Be thankful for that. When this whole hoo-ha is over, I recommend you call me. If certain questions are asked, I ain’t gonna be able to cover for you, but I may be able to do something else.”

  That means I’m right. Great.

  I shoot Castleford a dark look, designed to demonstrate that I blame him entirely for the shit storm I’m gonna be stepping into. In case that wasn’t clear enough, I snap one of my favourite insults at him for good measure. “Puk gaai .”

  Devin, now confident that I’m fully aware of my situation, strolls casually over to Castleford and fires off a quick jab at his face. The accountant cowers back from him, and he smiles. “That one weren’t for Caz. If she wants to hit you, she can, and it’ll likely be harder than that. That was for the dogfight. Now, when we get to the police station, you’re gonna behave yourself, right?”

  Castleford nods in response, and Devin raises his hand again, causing the accountant to whimper. Rather than hit him again, Devin simply gives his thinning grey hair a patronising, if overly rough, ruffling. “Donal’s gonna make sure you don’t spill anything about any of your employers to anyone you shouldn’t. If you do, he ain’t gonna remember any of it, and when they find you the next mornin’, everyone’s gonna think you hung yourself. So, these are your options. One, you can keep quiet, bar admitting your guilt. You’ll be sentenced, you’ll go to prison, and you’ll be given a task to do. Two, you talk, and you die.”

  I guess Castleford’s bravado when I found him was because he thought he’d be able to cut a deal with just about anyone. Once he realised he was out of options, reality set in quickly, and now he has no fight left. “I’ll do what Mr. Fuerza asks,” he says.

  I switch out and let Devin take the wheel for the remainder of the journey, and by let, I mean that I comply with his request to switch places so he can stop me wrecking his pride and joy. Once we get moving, I dial Lieutenant Hanson.

  “Cassie?” she answers. “Shouldn’t you be hunting for our devious little accountant?”

  “Devious,” I repeat with a smile. “I’m guessing you found the evidence you were looking for, then?”

  “You could say that. That does mean your time’s nearly up, though.”

  “I guess so. Ask me how the search is going.”

  “Oh boy,” she chuckles. “Hey, Cassie, how’s the search going?”

  “I’ve got him here with me right now, and I’ll be delivering him to the station within the next thirty minutes or so, depending on traffic.”

  “Well, thank you for saving me some time on the paperwork. You better stick around when you get there. We’ll need to do the usual.”

  “Another interview? And here’s me without my makeup,” I reply, my voice dripping with mock upset.

  Hanson laughs. “I’ll see ya there,” she says and hangs up.

  “So, who’s Donal O’Brien?” I ask.

  Castleford remains silent, and I catch Devin checking on him in the rearview mirror. Devin lets the silence hang for a moment then responds, “He’s one of the officers with ties to the Kings. If someone’s deemed a danger to the running of the New Hopeland Underworld, then he gets to do the questioning. There are men and women like Donal O’Brien in every single one of Utah’s police departments. Sunglasses contacting the Elites probably gave them a shock, but Donal being involved would have been key to getting the Sweepers to back off. It shows that the Kings have stepped in to restore the peace.”

  “The ones like Donal. Do they know?”

  “What you figured out?” I nod, and Devin continues, “Most won’t. Donal does, though.”

  “Given how scary he is, I’m guessing that Sunglasses is part of the King’s Guard, is
n’t he?”

  “Yup. Technically, all of those who know the truth are. Or they are if they were told rather than finding out themselves.”

  “Huh. And what are the ones that figured it all out by themselves?”

  “Dead, mostly.”

  And that’s enough to silence me for a while. It’s funny, really. I didn’t do the digging myself this time, I let someone else do it and kinda piggy-backed their knowledge instead, but the result was the same. I still let it go too far for me to back out.

  BY THE TIME I make it back to my block, to say I’m tired would be an understatement. The police interviews took so long that they’d already dealt with Castleford and chucked him in a cell before I came close to getting out of there. I know it was all because he’d figured out how deep a hole he’d dug for himself and so gone along without the usual dancing around questions that a lot of the newly arrested give. It still annoys me that I had to spend longer explaining myself than the actual criminal did. Trying to convince the interviewing officers that they didn’t need me to name certain people was frustratingly difficult too, thanks entirely to Lieutenant Hanson offloading some city rookies on me. Did seeing her sitting there laughing her ass off at the situation help at all? No, it did not.

  To her credit, Hanson did eventually step in and explain a few things before I could get worked up to the level of violence, but by then, Fuerza and Sunglasses had turned up to give their own statements and visit Castleford. That I had to stop and let them know what I had and hadn’t spilled rather than just calling them on my way home meant even more delays. Yeah, they did ask if Castleford had told me what he knew. I told them the same thing I told Devin. Fuerza insisted on making an appointment to see me tomorrow afternoon at his warehouse so we could discuss things.

  With all that weighing on me, you can imagine how tired I am now that I’ve finally washed and slipped into some loose-fitting sleep clothes.

  I glance at the clock and note it’s not quite 10:00 p.m. yet. Almost instinctually, I grab my phone from the table, call up Lori’s number, and slide my thumb across the screen to hit dial…but I stop. Something’s wrong here. I’m nervous, but not normal nervous. This isn’t me worrying about saying something stupid, it’s something else. But what?

  I move my thumb away from the little green dial logo and Devin’s words come back to me.

  “You know that list I said you’re on? Be thankful for that. When this whole hoo-ha is over, I recommend you call me. If certain questions are asked, I ain’t gonna be able to cover for you, but I may be able to do something else.”

  “What am I trying to say to her? That the last two months have been really great, and I want her to know how much I’ve enjoyed being around her? Why now? What am I doing?” I lean back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling light, letting the truth of it all settle in. “I’m gearing up to say goodbye.”

  “Caw?” Bert asks, and I let my eyes drift down far enough to see that he’s taken up residence opposite me. He must have picked up on my mood.

  “I’m just tired,” I reply. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Bert lets out a mechanical chirp, and hunkers down into a more relaxed pose.

  I wasn’t lying. Today has been too overwhelming to think things through properly, which is why I’m feeling like I’ve lost already. That I thought it was important to say goodbye to Lori is something I can hold on to, because it will serve as a reminder of what I want to avoid. I won’t call her until I’ve fixed this. The temptation to tie up loose ends is there, and if I do that, then I’ll be walking into tomorrow having already decided I’m not getting out of this one alive. All that does is potentially create a self-fulfilling prophecy scenario for myself. I will call her, though. I will tell her how crap today’s been, and I will use some of the money Fuerza owes me to treat her because the last two months really have been great. That’s my aim. I don’t want a quick exit or to go down in a blaze of glory, I want more time. More time with her .

  I glance at Bert again and say, “Hey, Bert. Make sure you keep your power levels up. I need you on patrol tonight, just in case, but I’m gonna need you to do something specific for me tomorrow.”

  “Caw.”

  THE MORNING COMES quickly, and I end up spending longer in the shower than I would normally. It’s not that I’m worried so much about appearances today, it’s more that I want to make sure I’m fully awake. The first thing I do once I’m ready is call Devin.

  “Morning,” he answers. “I was getting worried when you didn’t call me after you left the station.”

  “Yeah? You know what’s going on then?”

  “Not exactly. I figured you’d come clean, so when I didn’t hear from ya… Well, you know what you’re dealing with now. If you’re calling now, though, then that means Fuerza’s called a meeting, ain’t he?”

  I sigh. “I’m only gonna get one shot at this, aren’t I?”

  “That’s the way it normally goes.”

  “In that case, I need to hire you for a job.”

  Devin goes quiet for a moment. “This is only gonna go one way or the other, Caz, and a lot of that is gonna come down to you and whether you’re looking at this the right way.” He pauses again, then says, “I’ll tell ya what. Name the job. If it’s the right one, I’ll do it for free. If it’s the wrong one, you’re on your own.”

  “That clean-cut, eh?”

  “Like I said, it goes one way or the other. There ain’t a third outcome here.”

  “When I was getting ready to call you, I considered hiring you to make sure Fuerza doesn’t kill me.”

  “But…” Devin prompts, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “But there’s a reason that neither Allen Fuerza nor any of the Four Kings have ever been arrested.” I swallow and play my one card. “Devin Carmichael. I want to hire you to make sure that, for the duration of the meeting, no one in Fuerza’s employ kills me.”

  Devin laughs, and says, “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

  WE ARRIVE AT the warehouse to find Sunglasses waiting to greet us. I’d done Fuerza the favour of letting him know I’d hired Devin to accompany me, not because I’m kind, but because I didn’t want to throw any unexpected surprises at him. Shock is a risky element to bring into any situation, but it’s one that works to your advantage in a lot of circumstances. This is not a scenario where causing panic is going to help me. Besides, I doubt it changes Fuerza’s plans for the day.

  “The warehouse is empty, bar myself and Mr. Fuerza,” Sunglasses states as he guides us inside.

  “I figured it would be,” I reply.

  “Good,” he says. “I am glad that you clearly understand the situation. For what it’s worth, you are yet to disappoint me, Miss Tam.”

  “Good to know.”

  Sunglasses leads us up a set of stairs and into a room I not only didn’t know existed but that I doubt anyone would expect to find in the building. It’s a circular space, well lit, and immaculately carpeted in a wine-red colour that compliments the fancy green walls. Less surprising than the room, at least to me, is the clear difference in demeanour of its only other occupant compared to the last time I saw him. Allen Fuerza is still confident, but the feel is more relaxed than his normal exaggeration of the trait. This isn’t a low-end, wannabe crime lord. This is someone who knows he will decide the outcome today.

  “Miss Tam.” He gives a slow nod. When I don’t reply, he says, “I was glad to hear that you still intended to join us today. That you brought Mr. Carmichael with you means you understand the gravity of the situation. It also means you intend to walk away from here alive and well, one way or another, correct?”

  “I do.”

  Fuerza nods to Sunglasses, who walks across the room and takes up residence to his left. “No sign of the Familiar?”

  “He’s not here,” I answer for Sunglasses. “I sent him over to watch Lori Redwood.”

  “Redwood… The Tech Shifter girl?” I nod and Fuerza continue
s, “Then you two must be… You think that I would target your girlfriend?” he asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  I shake my head. “Not really, no. But I’d rather play things safe. Plus, he has a habit of acting on his own authority. Right now, Bert busting in and going nuts won’t help either of us. Having a set task reduces the risk of that.”

  “That is appreciated, Miss Tam. Tell me, did you spend the hours I gave you making sure your affairs are in order?”

  “Nope.”

  Fuerza chuckles and shakes his head. “You are confident, aren’t you?”

  “If I wasn’t, it would have been pretty stupid of me to turn up at all, wouldn’t it?”

  “Often times,” Sunglasses interjects, “those who find themselves in your situation simply accept their fate.”

  “Yeah, well, I never did like other people deciding my fate for me.”

  “In that case,” Fuerza replies, “how about we let you get on with deciding your own fate, hmm? I understand Mr. Castleford told you some of his methods, but not the end result of his research. How about you tell me what you believe the result is? You have my word that I will confirm if you are correct. Under the circumstances, I think it would be fair if I were to offer a correction if you are wrong too, don’t you?”

  I take a deep breath and start to potentially throw my life away. “It all comes back to the book, Four Steps to Power by Casille di Franco. Honestly, having the name of the author spelled out by the initials of your aliases was pretty stupid. I know the possibility of all the aliases lining up in the right order was ridiculously low, but anyone with access to the data had the potential to spot the pattern if even only a few of the letters lined up.”

  Sunglasses smirks and says, “Insults?”

  “I got myself into this mess, and I’m gonna get myself out of it. That means all of me, personality and all.”

  “Please, continue,” Fuerza says, nonchalantly waving me on.

  “It could have just been that you’re a really big fan of the book. That’s what Castleford thought initially. I would have thought the same thing if I’m being honest. Even using the King’s aliases as part of an anagram could have been passed off as a crude joke, maybe even a form of hero worship aimed at those at the top of your profession. Your reaction, though, that tipped Castleford off. That he took this as far as he did means he’s either an idiot, or he found something else. This —” I wave my hand at the room “—tells me the latter applies. My guess is he followed the money deep enough into the mud to see what was lurking underneath. You had access to all the accounts involved. Once he figured that out, it wouldn’t have been hard to come up with a closer link between you and the Four Kings than the expected one.”