The Mercy of the Mako Shark

by Nicole Castle

  “Friend of yours?” Frank asked. He was cold in his attempt at sympathy, but at least he wasn't beaming to gloat over it like Blondie was.

  Miko sighed and set down the pen, realizing the extent of what he was doing. He was helping one of his heroes kill another one of his heroes. Maybe more than one. Miko wasn't sure how he felt about that. He knew Hans, even if Hans had never known him. But Frank knew Miko. Frank would've carried Miko home from the backyard. “No, he was not my friend.” He picked the pen back up and crossed off Hans' name, then froze, the ink coming out red. Being dead was what made Hans belong on the list. Made István belong. István was dead, Simon blamed Frank, and Miko knew exactly who would come after them.

  Yuri.

  He'd trained István. István had saved his life, was there with him when he received the injury that changed his role from assassin to associate. Miko could've crossed off every other name but he wasn't ready to do it. Because he'd have to write down Yuri's instead. He needed guidance, needed to consult Nasir about this, about what was good and what was bad. He needed to stall. “You are my friend. I will think for more.”

  “Danke,” Frank said. “I have to go out. Vincent will look after you.” Then he added in German, “I would appreciate it if you didn't mention what we discussed.”

  Miko made his best attempt at keeping his grin subdued over being privy to a secret of his more-mysterious-by-the-minute idol, but Vincent began to pout at his obvious exclusion from the conversation and he immediately asked for details the moment his husband was out the door.

  “He said you will tell me story. How you kill Malkolm.”

  Now Blondie was the one who looked overjoyed, and he sat down on the coffee table across from the sofa to get started. “Let's begin with Hans, shall we?”

  Vincent told stories the way Hector did, enthusiastically and with sound effects and probably at least a little embellishment, and when he was finished telling Miko for the fourth time how he'd saved everyone's lives by single-handedly taking out Malkolm, Karl, and Boris when they'd come to attack Frank and his family at their home, along with shooting Hans on a rooftop, Miko simply smiled and said, “Tell it again.”

  “What, all of it? You're really weird, you know?”

  Miko nodded, but they were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. “Wait here,” Blondie said, and disappeared into the hallway. He returned several minutes later with a young girl, maybe fifteen, with dark hair and fashionable red-framed eyeglasses that matched her red dress. “Sophie, this is Miko. He just got shot. Miko, Sophie. She's the au pair. We were just telling assassin stories.”

  Sophie got an expression of sheer delight on her face that Miko was very familiar with, and sat beside him on the sofa. “I was held hostage!”

  “You were?” Miko turned to her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

  “I left that part out,” Vincent said. “That's how Malkolm found us. They kidnapped her.”

  Sophie blushed severely, but Miko quickly comforted her. “I was shot in my hand by Malkolm's friend. He killed my sister and I killed him.”

  “You did?” she asked. Her English was nearly perfect, only the barest hint of a French accent. “And now you're an assassin?”

  “I am nickname the Mako Shark,” he said for once with pride. Sophie's enthusiasm was more than contagious, it made him feel closer to Hector, telling stories of his own to such a captive young audience.

  Miko started telling her the whole story, which she was completely and utterly enthralled with, but Blondie was not. Since neither of them were paying much attention to him, he said, “Okay kids, have fun,” and he left the room. And they did.

  Miko could barely catch his breath long enough to tell Sophie the next tale of murder when Miranda the lady doctor finally arrived. Frank still wasn't back yet, and Bella was still keeping her husband and children far away from Miko even with the au pair in the room. Only Blondie visited, and Joe to check on him. And check on the list.

  Sophie didn't look away for a single second as Miranda changed the dressing on his wound and listened to his breathing. Miko couldn't look at all, focusing instead on his conversation with Joe.

  “You know what these guys look like?” Joe asked. He'd only placed one check mark himself on an English assassin he knew, and gotten a mark for three more from Bella.

  Miko placed a check next to Rodrigo's name, which made Sophie's face light up. She'd thoroughly enjoyed that story. He pointed to a few more. “I know these too but they are already checked.”

  “Thank you. This is helpful.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Vincent said. Like Sophie, he hadn't looked away from Miko's blood either. But unlike her, he stood there carnally eating the pastries Miranda had brought. If anyone should've had Miko's bloodthirsty nickname, it would be Blondie.

  “You are very lucky,” Miranda said, handing him back his shirt.

  “Thank you.” Miko left it open, not wanting to struggle with buttoning it in front of so many witnesses. Then Miko realized someone else was watching him. The artist, Casey, was standing in the doorway with the little girl holding his hand.

  He gave a hesitant smile and brought her closer, the girl half-hiding against his leg. “She wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Miko smiled at her, leaning forward a little but not letting the pain show on his face. “You are very sweet to worry but I am fine.”

  “Come here, Sylvia,” Sophie said, holding both her arms out for the little girl. “This is Miko. He's our friend.”

  Miko nodded, remembering how Hector's family had rejected him, the mean children and the bitter, hateful adults, and he felt very much welcome here, like he was a part of Frank's family. “See it is just a little ouch.” He moved his shirt a bit so she could see the fresh bandage, still white and clean.

  The artist smiled wider, silently observing from the doorway while his daughter gained her courage to get closer. The little girl did not look like her parents, with dark hair and eyes, and Miko remembered what Frank had said, that Bella and Casey hadn't been together that long. She was adopted like Ophelia, but clearly much happier, and less fearful despite circumstances.

  Looking up, Miko saw that Bella had taken her daughter's place at the artist's side. Miko didn't feel so welcome anymore, and he started to button his shirt even though he was bad at it. The bleeding wound aside, he didn't think he'd ever recover from the pain of having Bella reject him.

  “Frank told me you saw her bunny ears,” Bella said. “Is that true?”

  Miko nodded. “But I would not do in front of little girl even without.” He cleared his throat and said, “I can get Nas new ears. He does not need them back.”

  “I wasn't offering,” Bella said with a smirk. “You really are lucky. Are you all right?”

  “Yes!” he practically shouted. Then he got embarrassed and went back to buttoning his shirt. “Thank you for asking.”

  “Where is your friend anyway?” she asked.

  Looking to Joe as if he'd somehow heard from Nasir within the last few minutes without Miko noticing, he quietly admitted, “I do not know.”

  “I'm sure he's on his way,” Joe said. Miko wasn't so sure. It wasn't like Nasir not to call. Something could've happened to him in Liberia. Simon sent Miko to get killed but maybe he sent Nasir somewhere worse. Somewhere that would kill him inside.

  The Kevlar dog barked which startled Miko so much he hurt himself, but once he figured out why the beast had risen he was just as excited as the dogs. Frank was home. Frank gave Sophie a questioning glance then tilted his head towards the hallway. Blondie and Joe got up to join him in what was clearly a conversation not meant for children. After a moment, Bella did too. Sophie heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. “If only they were more like your Hector,” she said. The little girl asked who Hector was and Sophie pulled her up onto the sofa beside them. “Hector was Miko's papa. He is with the angels now, like your grandmama and grandpapa.” She gave Miko a creepy little w
ink, which made Miko like her even more. Miko was creepy too.

  Casey sat beside Sophie and his daughter, stroking the little girl's hair with a maudlin look on his face that Miko was all too familiar with. Miko wanted to stroke her hair too but he stopped himself and pet the dog instead. “Your parents, they are dead?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  Sophie leaned over to whisper to Miko, “They were murdered. I found the bodies.” Then she added, “Not connected to the agency, ironically.” The fact that their murder was not an assassination seemed to bring her more grief than the murder itself, but Miko was still getting over the pain of Hector's loss and he gave Casey a candy to cheer him up.

  “Thanks.” He didn't eat it, but Miko didn't really mind. He'd given enough of them to Sophie by now that he was starting to run out, and he would eat it later if Casey put it down. “Bella said you had a thing for these.”

  “I have mental problems.”

  Sophie giggled, but Casey just smiled. “She said that too.” He put his arm around his daughter, pulling her closer. She curled up on his lap but continued watching Miko, staring unabashedly at strangers the way children do. “Bella isn't mad at you, by the way. She's just...upset.”

  “I know,” Miko said, but he didn't really know and being told flat out eased his mind immensely.

  “And I appreciate what you did. We all do. As well as what you're doing. To help.”

  “You can help me too? Tell me about being civilian?”

  Casey cocked his head, his sharply arched eyebrows knotting in such confusion that Miko thought for a moment that he was speaking German on accident. “Um, sure, what about it?”

  Cautiously looking at the little girl, Miko made certain to be very careful about his words. “You do not mind what they do for their jobs? Bella does?”

  “I don't really think about it. We don't discuss the details or anything. It's just a job.”

  “And you are normal? You do art for your work?” Toby's cooking was art. But Miko discussed details with him. Toby thought about it a lot.

  “They're like soldiers, I guess. What they do is...something that needs to be done.”

  “You get scared for them?”

  Casey looked away and sighed. “Yeah. I do.” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “These other people you know, can you describe them to me? I was putting together composite sketches, just so we—they can be prepared. In case they see any of them.”

  “Yes, I describe.” Miko didn't know when Nasir would be back. He couldn't wait for his advice. These were his friends. He would start with Yuri.

  Miko woke by himself in the dark but he was not afraid. The dog had left and must've been gone for some time judging by the lack of warmth on the sofa, though Miko could tell he wasn't alone in the room. He thought it was Sophie. She'd begged Frank to let her stay the night, and since Frank had found the client and the artist who shot Miko, and disposed of them properly and in many pieces, he was in a good enough mood to grant her request. After Miranda ordered him to get some rest, Sophie insisted on sitting with him in the library until he fell asleep. Sophie had trouble sleeping herself following her kidnapping, and she understood the security of having the presence of another person.

  He sat up and turned on the lamp Frank had brought him, only to find Nasir sitting there instead. He might've walked to Paris for as tired as he seemed. He may not have made it at all from the distant, haunted look in his eyes. “Nas?”

  Nasir tilted his head just slightly at the sound of Miko's voice, blinking like he'd only then realized the lights were on. “I do not know where to tattoo his name,” he said quietly, rubbing at his chest.

  “Whose name?”

  “I'm so sorry Miko.” He shook his head. “I'm so sorry.”

  Moving down to the floor beside him, Miko winced at the injury he'd momentarily forgotten about and breathlessly asked, “What happened, Nas?” Then Miko saw the cat, growling and stuffed into the carrier where it would've once fit, before Simon overfed it. “Simon is dead?”

  A tear streaked down Nasir's face. “He was responsible. For everything.” Taking a deep breath, he finally looked at Miko, his face filled with remorse. “He had her killed so you would get the book for him.”

  Now Miko looked away, a chill in his bones. Toby was right. And it was Miko's fault. “Did he say who?” he asked. His voice sounded far away. He'd been so stupid not to see it, stupid to let Simon know about her.

  “Rodrigo.”

  “Straight razor.” Miko gave an involuntary smirk.

  “Simon said that she called him by name before she died. That he's terrified of you.”

  “He should be.” He could taste blood. It was dripping down the walls, all over Frank's books. He didn't reach for a candy.

  Nasir swallowed hard, reaching out to take Miko's hand. “He killed Hector.”

  Miko twitched. The king of Denmark was rolling in his grave. Claudius was rolling. Miko shut his eyes. When he opened them, the blood was still there. “Because he told me to leave it.”

  “I'm so sorry, Miko.” Nasir wasn't covered in blood. Not even his hands. But he wasn't smiling, wasn't laughing, and that was the worst thing.

  Miko gripped his hand tighter, forcing a smile. “Tattoo right on your ass. I will draw for you.”

  Nasir covered his mouth, muffling a surprised laugh that quickly became a sob and then just as quickly ended. He gazed at Miko with a look of relief, no longer guilt, and he playfully asked, “Are you flirting with me?”

  Miko laughed too, and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Nas. Even with your skinny arms.”

  “And you, my friend.” Nasir put his arm around him. “Where are you hurt?”

  Shifting his body to show Nasir his side, Miko gestured to the area, not wanting to go through the trouble of buttoning his shirt again. Miko didn't think he'd bled through, but he couldn't tell in his current state of mind.

  Nasir sighed. “What did Toby say?”

  “I did not tell him.”

  “Miko...” he said reproachfully.

  “I do not want him to worry.”

  “And what do you think will happen when he finds out?”

  “He will be upset but then I will be home.”

  “If he wasn't so nice he would make you sleep on the sofa.”

  “I cannot sleep there.”

  “Yes, that's why he's nice.”

  “I sleep here okay. Frank has a big dog.”

  “I saw the dogs. That's why I didn't let the cat out.” They both glanced at the cat, who hissed fiercely to give them another reason to keep it where it was. The cat had never been afraid of Miko, but he and Nasir certainly had their doubts about it. “They have taken care of you?”

  “They are my friends. I am helping them. There is a hit on Frank. I think it is Yuri.”

  “I think you're right about that.” Nasir took out a cellphone. “This was Simon's.” He clicked on the text messages, scrolling through pictures sent to Yuri. Drawings of Bella and Frank, Blondie and several others. Drawings like Casey did of Yuri earlier that day.

  Miko suddenly felt sick. Frank wasn't Yuri's target. Hans had been like Yuri's family, and Yuri thought Frank had killed him. He was returning the favor. “We have to warn them.” Miko tried getting up, only to flinch and sit right back down. But at least he made it to the sofa.

  Nasir sat beside him. “I will talk to Joe. But if you're doing this for them, they're doing it for you. He can contact Rodrigo. Set up a meeting.”

  “Okay.” Miko wouldn't have asked for anything in return; they'd done so much for him already. But Nasir always thought ahead, and Miko didn't think Joe was the type of man to willingly set someone up. Not like Simon had.

  Nasir disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, likely sensing Miko's need for a moment alone more than the urgency of immediately alerting Joe about a threat to a houseful of people sleeping safe and sound. Miko carefully leaned forward, pointing the carrier towards the sofa befor
e opening it so the cat could dart underneath. The only one of Frank's dogs that could possibly fit under there was the little white fluffy one, and Ophelia's cat was twice its size so it wasn't much of a threat. Then he lifted the bag Nasir had brought onto the sofa with him, bringing up his feet in case the cat was angry enough to attack him.

  He hadn't been back to Ophelia's cottage since before she died. It had been his home, and yet all of his belongings fit in one garbage bag. Shoes, clothes, several pairs of gloves. Christmas presents. It felt like all of the air had gone from the room. Miko couldn't breathe as he held them, his hands shaking. He'd never opened his Christmas presents from her. Three boxes, beautifully wrapped in red paper with bows formed into flowers. The bows had been smashed and distorted but he remembered what they looked like, and suddenly it was like she was there with him, all around him, more than she'd been at the Marlowes' house in Hollywood or the crypt where she was buried. He sobbed uncontrollably as he opened them, and cried even harder when he saw that she'd bought him sweaters just like the one he'd taken from Toby and worn into ruin. The sweater she used to repair for him day after day as it fell apart.

  Cradling them to his face, Miko lay helpless on the sofa, everything hurting so badly that he wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. He imagined he could smell her, and Hector, but he couldn't because Simon had taken them from him and it was all Miko's fault.

  There was a girl's voice and Miko thought he imagined that too, but then he realized it was French and Sophie was singing to him. He raised his eyes to her, sitting beside his head where he'd curled up on the sofa as much as his excruciating ribs would allow. She smiled and kept singing, tracing a flower over his wet cheeks. “Your friend has brought you bad news,” she said when she finished her song.

  “It was Simon all along.”

  “I thought so,” she said flatly. “Is he dead?”