“Shit. We thought it fit, but you’ve just given us our confirmation,” Johnny exclaimed. “That’s some memory you’ve got.”
“It only stuck with me because I felt something was off when he said it.”
“That’s great, Marco. So HH hasn’t been on a killing spree. Okay, you need to get a message to him that you found the heroin and you want to take over where Kratos left off,” Johnny declared as he stood up and began to pace, “but it’s not like we can pick up the phone and call him. We could play out a scene in the office in front of the camera Tank put in place behind that photograph—oh—speaking of that, wasn’t Kratos maniacal about checking for surveillance equipment?”
“I’ll bet that camera was old,” Steve suggested. “If Kratos was using high-tech stuff to hunt for bugs it wouldn’t pick up a plain old video cam. Kind of like hackers can’t get into outdated computer systems.”
“That makes sense,” Marco said, “but getting back to the subject, how do I go about this?”
“Tank!” Steve exclaimed. “He must have a way of communicating with HH. We need to convince him he’ll be better off if he works with us.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Kat piped up. “I mean, if Tank betrayed Kratos to save his own skin, why would you trust him?”
“I agree,” Johnny said with a resigned sigh, “but is there another way?”
“I think there is,” she offered. “A much easier, more direct way. What about Jason Dean.”
“Of course!” Marco exclaimed, “Why didn’t I think of him. He was the one who introduced Kratos to HH in the first place.”
“When Jason hangs out at the tavern it’s usually with Tank,” Marco said thoughtfully. “I’ll bet Jason has been the go-between. I have Jason’s number and I have an idea, but it will rock the boat and I’m not sure who will be thrown overboard.”
“Marco, I know that look,” Steve said solemnly. “You’re going to suggest something I’m not going to like.”
“Probably.”
“Okay. I’ve got my seatbelt fastened. Let’s hear it.”
“It’s actually quite simple,” Marco said with a wicked smile.
As he outlined his scheme, Johnny’s eyes grew wide, Kat started to laugh, and Steve nodded.
“Yep,” Steve sighed, “just what I thought. Heart attack time.”
Sitting in the library where Kratos had undergone his lie detector test, HH was playing one of Bon Jovi’s earliest albums, Slippery When Wet. The number one single, Shot Through The Heart, always made him smile. The lyric, you promised me heaven, then put me through hell, reminded him of the pure white powder that offered heaven but turned people’s lives into hell, the same white powder that had made him filthy stinking rich. He sang along, then laughed his maniacal laugh that his comrades-in-crime had likened to The Joker from Batman, but it was short-lived. HH wasn’t happy. HH had a problem.
Kratos was dead. Dennis was dead. Mike was in jail, and Tank was lying in a hospital room guarded by the fucking FBI.
Mike or Tank could open their big mouths, not that they knew a great deal, but they knew enough to be a nuisance, but worse, HH still didn’t know exactly what had gone down, and his informers had told him a package of heroin had been found at Mike’s garage. While it was likely the missing delivery, HH couldn’t know for sure and he didn’t like loose ends. Loose ends were like the loose threads on the sweaters his mother would knit. Pull one and the whole damn thing unraveled.
It was entirely possible the third in line to the throne, Marco D’Angelo, had been behind the entire mess. Brooder was his nickname because he was moody. He had no girlfriend, he’d kicked the ass of every man in the club, and had come up the ranks fast…real fast, but that’s all HH knew about him.
“I think it’s time I made your acquaintance,” HH muttered. “Let’s find out exactly who you are Marco.”
Hitting a button on the wall, the rock music abruptly stopped and the library fell silent. Pulling his phone from his pocket he touched the screen.
“Hey, get me a complete profile on Marco D’Angelo. I want to know who this fucker is, and I mean everything.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As the meeting wrapped up there was a sense of triumph tinged with excited anticipation, but Marco was anxious. It had been a long, perilous, challenging operation in a gritty, grimy world, and he couldn’t wait to put it behind him.
“You look happy and worried all at the same time,” she remarked staring at him. “What’s that about?”
“This operation is coming to an end, I can feel it, and it’s going to happen fast.”
“It will if your plan works, but let’s face it, HH is so slick. He’s like the invisible man.”
“Yeah, but I can feel that we’re going to get him.”
The elevator doors opened, and as they walked towards the double glass doors that would take them outside, he stopped and pulled her to a quiet corner of the lobby.
“I’m going to drop you at your place then head over to the tavern. There’s a lot to do. I need to get the gang back, I have to start sorting through all the crap in the office, and I don’t know when Dennis’s body will be released so I can’t arrange a funeral, but I’ll put together a memorial service and a wake for him and Kratos.”
“I should come with you. I can help.”
“I need you to do something else. See what you can dig up on Jason Dean. Find out everything you can. Who is this guy? What did he do before he was famous?”
“I’m good at that stuff. I’d love to do that.”
“Great, we’ll meet up and go over everything later tonight at my place.”
“Your place?”
“Yeah. I need to stay close to the tavern. Meet me there around nine. My home is a hovel, by the way, and there’s no gorgeous view.”
“Are you kidding. Wherever you are has the best view in town,” she said softly, running her fingers down his chest. “Especially when you’re naked.”
Marco laughed out loud, then abruptly falling serious his eyes shone down at her.
“Back at ya baby,” he said softly, “the best view in the world.”
A little while later, when Marco pulled up outside the tavern, the parking lot was virtually empty; just four bikes and a car. Striding through the doors he immediately felt the dark shadow of grief. Jim, the happy-go-lucky bartender who had worked for Kratos for years, was red-eyed and forlorn. Leo, looking glum, was sitting at a table drinking a beer and talking to a couple of regulars who had heard the news.
“Hey, Leo.”
“Hey, Marco,” Leo said solemnly, rising from the table and moving over to greet him.
“Anything going on?”
“Yeah, I have some news. I’ll tell you in the office.”
“Sure. Hey, Jim. How are you?”
“Been better,” Jim grunted. “This place…I can’t imagine it without Kratos and Dennis.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And we’ve got a problem with the bar, not that anyone’s coming in, but they might later when the word spreads.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Someone cleaned out the cash register. I ran to the ATM and pulled out some money of my own just to give myself some change.”
“No shit,” Marco frowned, though he assumed Kratos had emptied it on his way out. “I’m about to check the accounts. I’ll see what’s what, but don’t worry, you’ll get it back.”
“Are you officially the boss now?”
“Yeah,” Leo interjected, then turning to Marco and looking at him gravely, he added, “that’s what I need to talk to you about.”
“Then let’s do it.”
They walked through the swinging doors and down the hallway to the office. The door was wide open. It was an odd sight, and moving inside Marco closed it behind them.
“This is how I found it when I came in last night,” Leo remarked, “the safe’s open and empty.”
“As far as I kno
w only Kratos and Dennis had the combination,” Marco said moving across the room and staring at the solid steel antique. “We’ll have to find someone to come in and reset it, if that’s even possible.”
“If they were the only ones who could get in there…”
Leo’s voice trailed off as he tried to figure out why Kratos would have robbed himself, if that’s what had happened.
“I think we’re going to have a lot more questions than answers over the next few days, but tell me, what’s this news?”
“I talked to the guys, and they don’t want any power struggles. You seem like the obvious choice to take over for Kratos, but…”
“But?”
“They’ll understand if you say no.”
“Why would I say no?”
“Seems like it’s suddenly not the safest job in the world. We don’t know shit. Kratos, Dennis, Mike and Tank. Aren’t you worried you’ll be next if you sit behind that desk?”
“I admit, I am a bit, but I want to find out what happened, and there’s something else.”
“What’s that?”
Marco stared at him, then turning away he moved across to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.
“You want one?”
“Sure.”
Picking up a second bottle he carried it back with him and handed it to Leo, then moving behind the desk he sat down in the chair once inhabited by Kratos. It was surprisingly uncomfortable.
“What’s the something else?” Leo pressed.
“Kratos had an appointment the morning of the accident, and he told me about it.”
“What kind of appointment.”
“An appointment he wasn’t sure he’d walk away from,” Marco declared. “There has to be a connection.”
Though Marco had no way of knowing whether the nanny cam behind the picture was working, he was having the conversation with Leo strictly for the benefit of whoever was watching, hoping the information would reach HH.
“Where was it? Who was it with? What was it about?” Leo demanded. “Let’s go and find out if that motherfucker has anything to do with all this shit.”
“I’m not sure how to deal with it. I need to think it through.”
“What’s to think through? When the boys get back we’ll ride over there, all of us, together. Tell me who Kratos was meeting? Let’s kill the bastard. Why not?”
“Why not? That’s a good question, and maybe that’s exactly what we should do, though I doubt we’d all come back in one piece.”
“Hey, if that scumbag took out Kratos and Dennis and Mike, we’ll take our chances!”
“There might be a better way to handle this. Let me think about it. In the meantime I’m going to find out what kind of state this tavern is in. I have to see if we have any money in the accounts and I need to arrange a wake. Do you think you could help me with that? I was thinking maybe tomorrow. Start in the afternoon with a memorial service and carry on from there.”
“Yeah, you betcha, it’d be an honor, and Jim will get some help in the kitchen. We can do burgers and fries.”
“That’s great, thanks, Leo.”
“Maybe we should take the photograph off the wall and put it on an easel out in the tavern.”
“Sounds like a plan, or…”
“Whatta you thinking?”
“We could set up a shrine in here. Move the couch away and put something together underneath it. People could come in here a few at a time. Make it kinda personal.”
“I like that, Marco. I like that a whole bunch,” Leo said with a catch in his voice. “This office may not be much, but was his fuckin’ throne room, ya know?”
“Yep. I know.”
“Okay, I’ll go out and talk to Jim about the wake and start calling people.”
“Sounds good, Leo. Close the door behind you.”
“Sure. See you in a bit.”
Leo walked away, and as Marco began opening the drawers and going through their contents, he pretended to knock over a mug. It fell to the floor and broke into pieces. Bending down, as he placed the bits on top of the desk, he began searching underneath it, looking for the mysterious piece of string Kratos had instructed him to find. He spotted it hanging from behind the bottom file drawer. Giving it a gentle tug, he discovered it was taped to a sealed envelope. Folding it up he pushed it into his pocket, then finished cleaning up the broken mug, carefully dropping the crockery shards into a small wastebasket. Carrying it with him he headed from the room and out the side door, leaving it next to the dumpster.
Across the street was a diner he often frequented. It was the perfect place to read the letter in peace and privacy, and he jogged across to the humble eatery. Settling into a back booth next to the window he ordered coffee and a slice of hot apple pie and ice-cream, opened the envelope, pulled out the letter and began to read.
Hey Brooder:
Yeah, I’m gone, but not dead. Nancy and I have started a new life. Even though I told you not to stick around I knew you would, and I know why, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
The waitress arrived with his coffee and pie, and pausing, Marco took a sip and stared out at the street. Though Kratos was a murderer and a criminal, Marco felt a pang. The man had meticulously planned and executed his escape from the violent world in which he’d lived, only to meet his end in a bizarre and totally unexpected accident.
“You never know when it’s coming,” Marco muttered. “None of us do.”
Feeling slightly unnerved, he took a breath and sent his eyes back to the letter.
Dennis is dead, and Mike will be arrested for his murder. If Dennis hasn’t been found yet, he’s in the trunk of a car in Mike’s yard. The huge photo of me on the wall in my office hides a nanny cam. It’s in the headlight. That was Tank’s doing. He betrayed me and I couldn’t let that go, so Tank, well, Tank is either dead or in a hospital bed. That leaves you. You’re next in line. You’re the obvious choice as the man to sit behind my desk, except for one thing.
I’ve always had a feeling about you Brooder.
I know you’re a Fed. Maybe FBI, maybe DEA, don’t know which, but I purposely elevated your status in the Kings because I’ve seen you as a safety net and I wanted to keep you close. Why? Don’t worry, I’m getting to that.
I gave you opportunities to nail me. I set you up to do it. You wouldn’t have succeeded and you would’ve been hurt, but you never did. That told me you had bigger game than me in your sights. There was only one possible target that fit the bill. HH.
You’re reading this because you need to kill him.
Yeah, I know you can’t just snuff someone, but if you shoot him in the line of duty you’ll be doing the world a favor. I know guys who would whack someone for a day’s supply of smack. I know some of the meanest sons-of-bitches you ever want to meet, but there’s no-one like HH. He’s the devil incarnate. Keeping you around wasn’t about me, but about getting him. If my time ran out and HH got to me, I knew you’d try to uncover him. Maybe he did get me, and maybe you’re reading this because HH discovered my plan to bolt, but either way his demise is now in your hands. How’s that for drama? That was Nancy’s line, not mine. The only way to save ourselves was to leave our lives behind.
So, Mr. DEA, or FBI, or whatever you are, here’s what you need to know.
HH operates out of a mansion in the hills above Sunset Blvd. You might already know that, but if you don’t the address is 7655 View Vista Drive. The house is a glass mansion surrounded by tropical landscaping at the end of a cul-de-sac, and I’m pretty sure his lab is in a basement of the guest house behind it.
The property is littered with cameras. Everywhere you go you’re watched, and he only talks through a PA system. He has a torture room. I don’t know how you get there, but it’s a room of horrors. I wish I could give you a description of him, but I’ve never met him, no-one has, and I have no idea what HH stand for.
He has parties, lots of them, with drugs everywhere. He also deals in girls, buying
and selling them. If you crash one of those parties you’ll hit gold, but his surveillance will let him know you’re coming, and by the time you get inside you probably won’t find a thing.
I’ve never ratted on anyone in my life, but I want HH dead, or at the very least behind bars. They’ll know how to deal with him inside.
Jason Dean, the actor, is the only person I know who’s directly connected to HH. He was the one who got me involved, and who I contacted if I needed to reach out to HH. Watch out for him. I’ve seen him turn nasty on a dime. I think he might be a psycho. I mean, a real psycho.
One last thing. Brooder, unless you arrive at the mansion with a team of agents to bust down the door, don’t go. There is nothing that can prepare you for what HH will put in front of you. Find another way. WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T GO THERE.
Whether you’re a cop, or even if you’re not and I’ve got all this wrong, you’re a cool cat, Brooder. I like you. I respect you, and I don’t say that about many people. In another life we could have been brothers, though in a way, I feel like we are.
Safe riding…oh, and Tank knows where the bodies are buried.
Kratos
P.S. The key to a happy life? Find your Nancy.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Laying the letter flat on the table, Marco retrieved his phone, snapped a photograph, and sent it to Steve, Johnny and Kat, with a short message saying he’d call soon, then waving to the waitress to bring him a second cup of coffee, he read it through again, but slowly.
It was astonishing. And what the hell did Tank know? What bodies?
Kratos always had been secretive and cryptic, and it was clear he’d been several steps ahead of everyone. When he’d concluded Marco had been working undercover, Kratos hadn’t panicked. He’d watched him and kept him close, and perhaps it was more than fear of HH that had made Kratos decide to get away. Perhaps he was worried that the feds were getting close to finding HH and blowing apart the operation. That would mean he and Nancy would go down too, but as Marco idly ate his pie and processed the new information, he realized Kratos had skillfully executed a complex operation, outwitting not just the authorities, but the formidable and diabolical HH as well. Were it not for the accident, he and Nancy would be on their way to a tropical paradise somewhere in the Caribbean. Kratos had been brilliant. Had he turned his talents in another direction, he could probably have achieved great things, and Marco felt an unexpected wave of sadness, then a sudden need to hear Kat’s voice. Touching her name on his phone, it only rang only once before she answered.
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