“I already do that, in real life. I do not need to in space.”
Isaac bent over in laughter.
“Enough of this.” Vance pushed his cards toward the pile and reached into his coat. “I’ll show you real Russian game.” He grinned and set his pistol on the table with a loud thud.
Terror surged throughout Isaac. “No fucking way.” He pushed his chair back, the legs scraping along the floor.
“What?” Vance said with a shrug. “I do this all the time. It is easy, and there is only one rule.”
“No. No. Fuck no.” Isaac quickly shook his head, eyes on the gun. “That’s a fucking semi-automatic. You’re fucking insane.” His mind drew up image after image of the gun aiming at him, of Vance advancing on him, saying, “I know you are trying to betray me, you little kusok der’ma.” His heart beat wildly in a sporadic rhythm. He stumbled backward and nearly tripped over his chair.
Vance began to laugh, loud and long.
Isaac frowned. “Are you messing with me?”
“Not at all!” Vance replied. In a deft motion, he swiped the pistol from the table, racked the slide, and pressed the cool metal of the barrel to his temple. “Watch. I will go first.”
“Jesus!” What the fuck is going on? Isaac’s head swam with booze, fear, and anxiety. Dizzy, he pushed past his chair and backpedalled away from the table until he collided with the wall behind him. He threw a glance at the door nearby when Vance began to laugh again.
“Calm down, calm down,” the man said, and lowered the gun. “Is joke.” He disarmed the weapon swiftly and replaced it into his holster.
Are you kidding me? Isaac tried to relax his body, but it refused to comply. “Fucking Russians.” he whispered from the wall, eyes still wide and wary.
Vance chuckled. “Come back here. We have to keep working on this, no?” He gestured to the bottle of tequila.
“Yeah,” Isaac said. He cautiously stepped back toward Vance, who grinned at him. “Yeah, fine. Just...let my heart slow down a bit first, okay? Fuck.” He sat heavily into his chair.
Vance leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder. He began to pour more tequila, but paused as a loud voice flew through the room.
“Sir!” A stocky Korean man burst through the room’s doorway, startling Isaac. “Urgent call for you.” He held out a burner phone.
Vance lowered the bottle and snatched the cell. “Yes? Elena, what is it?”
Isaac couldn’t hear the voice on the other end. He brought his glass to his lips, then thought better of it and pushed it away.
“If they are at the cemetery, take them out. I cannot send backup due to the shit going down right now off Carol Street. Do it now,” Vance snapped. Isaac’s eyes snapped up to look at him, his fingers clenching and unclenching the hem of his shirt.
Vance paused, then said, “Well get a clear shot. Take them out.”
Isaac leaned forward, rapt on his uncle.
“Elena?” Vance said in a calm voice. “Kill them now, or kill them after. Either way, take them out. When your job is complete, I will have Grant escort you to me to pick up your son, and we can all get back to our lives.” He hung up and glowered at the small black phone in his hand.
—-
“Thank you so much for coming, you two.” Shawn smiled as he heard the voice of Rhonda, Cassie’s mother, as they approached her house after the burial.
“Of course,” he said. “And again, we are both so, so sorry we were out of town for the wake.”
“No, don’t worry about it.” She placed a hand lightly along his elbow and gently led him out of the room full of family and friends talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. “This wasn’t something anyone could have predicted.” Her voice was soft, the voice of a mother who had come to terms with a second dead child, but would be in mourning the rest of her life.
“We still feel awful.” Jaxon’s voice was quiet.
“Well, don’t.” She sniffled, blew her nose, then changed the subject. “I wanted to tell you something. Frank and I were going through Cassie’s things in her room and we...we found something with your names on them.”
Shawn frowned. “Oh? Like what?”
She continued to move Shawn along, slowly, his walking stick too long and cumbersome to use in the small, crowded house. “To be honest, we didn’t look through any of it. We wanted to respect her things, and weren’t comfortable knowing if it was...private.” She stopped moving forward and Shawn halted. “It’s on her bed, upstairs. Will you need help getting up there?”
He smiled. “Nah, Jax will take me. Thank you, Mrs. Saetren.”
“Of course. Second door on the left. And please call me Rhonda.”
Shawn made his way up the stairs one at a time, the unfamiliar path slowing him as he placed one cautious foot after the other. The steps were wooden, and they creaked as the two men ascended. Once at the top, Jaxon led him into a small room and, within seconds, the pair was sitting on Cassie’s bed. He could smell her scent, faint, in the room’s atmosphere, and a wash of grief tumbled through him.
“What do you see?” Shawn asked, breaking the silence, fearing that if they sat like that much longer he’d lose it.
Jaxon took a deep breath and shifted on the mattress. “Uh.” He paused, then, “A shoebox with our names on the lid.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well...what’s inside?”
There was another moment of silence, then Shawn heard the scraping sound of a cardboard lid slowly being pulled off of the box.
“Papers,” his brother reported. “Photos. Clipped together.”
“Photos of what?”
“I don’t know, people. Just...” Shawn heard Jaxon rummaging around and his face involuntarily turned in the direction of the sounds. “There’s a handwritten list on top, but I don’t...it’s a list of names and titles.”
“Titles? Like doctor, teacher, things like that?”
“No. It starts with a section titled ‘Big Heads’ then goes to ‘weapons distribution’ and then there’s a section titled ‘drugs.’ There’s even a list of police officers, headed by some guy named Grant Halpern. Underneath each section, there’s more names that—” Jaxon stopped talking abruptly.
“What? What is it?”
His brother remained silent.
“Jax, come on. Tell me what you see.”
Still no response.
Shawn reached toward the blur that was his brother. “I—”
“Shawn, Emma’s name is on here. And Alex’s.”
His stomach churned. “Holy shit. Jax...it’s a list of Vance’s employees.”
“Why would Cassie have this? It’s not her handwriting, though.” There was more rummaging, and Shawn thought wildly as his brother dug deeper in the box.
“Here, it’s a letter,” Jaxon said after a moment. “Says, ‘Cassie, Take this to your masked friend should anything happen to me. Break Vance the way I was trying to. Your friend, Henry.’”
The two sat in a stunned silence.
“What the fuck?” Jaxon burst out.
“Shh. Keep your voice down.”
“Why wouldn’t she have given this to us? What the fucking fuck?”
Shawn put his hand out, still trying to silence him. “Jax, calm the hell down. We can’t draw attention right now. Please, let’s just take this and get out of town. We can head to—”
A soft knock sounded at the door, and he froze. Shawn felt his heart skip a beat as the knob turned.
“Boys?” It was Rhonda. “I’m sorry to interrupt. There’s an officer downstairs, she says she’s looking for you two. Tried to catch you at the cemetery earlier.”
Shawn’s insides turned to ice. “What?” he managed to say.
“She said she just had a couple of questions.”
“About what?” Jaxon said, a bit too quickly, a bit too loudly.
“Didn’t say.”
“We’ll be right down,” Shawn assur
ed her and stood, mind whirling.
“Wait,” Jaxon said. “What’s her name? The officer?”
There was a slight pause, then she said, “Officer Valdez.”
“Let her know we’re coming, Rhonda,” Shawn said. “We’ll be right behind you. It’ll just be a moment.” He gestured to his eyes and smiled with a shrug.
“I will.” She left, and the door clicked behind her.
“Jax?” Shawn turned to his left, in the direction of his brother, who, from the sound of it, hadn’t moved from the bed. No reply. “Jaxon?”
“Her name is on this list.”
Shawn stilled. “Oh, no. No, no.”
“Elena Valdez. RPD.”
“It might not be the same. Rhonda didn’t say her first name, maybe it’s a different officer?”
“Put the pieces together, man,” Jaxon said in a hushed voice. Shawn heard his voice move as his brother stood. “I kill Alex, you help Cassie poison Vance...they’re after us. Shawn, what do we do?”
His mind flew. If they went downstairs, it was very likely the cop would simply shoot them after everything they’d done to Vance and his people. If they didn’t go downstairs, the cop would come looking for them.
“Is there a window in here?”
Jaxon groaned. “Yeah. There is. We’re going through it, aren’t we?”
“Oh, yes. First, lock the door.” Shawn reached out. “Then take me to the window.”
“Then what? Once we’re out, assuming we aren’t seen and shot at.” Jaxon took his hand roughly and pulled him along Cassie’s room.
“My suit is in the back of the truck.” Shawn whispered as they moved.
“Yeah, but it has bullet holes in it, the fabric is compromised.”
“All I need is the mask.”
They reached the window and Shawn felt cool air trickle over him as Jaxon opened it.
“Goddammit,” his brother complained. “What if I break my ankle or something?”
“Look around. Anything to jump to? A lower part of the roof? A tree? Hell, even a bush?”
“No, dude, it’s a straight drop.”
Shawn swore. “Well, looks like you’re going for a ride.”
“The hell does that mean?”
“Do you have the box? Do not forget that box.”
“Yes, yes, I have the damned box.”
“Get on my back,” Shawn dropped into a low crouch.
“I can handle the cop. I can call my wraiths, or—”
“Are you joking right now? You yourself said you can’t control them. And there’s no way in hell you’re hurting all those innocent people down there.”
“Son of a—”
“Do it, Jax. Now!”
Shawn felt his brother’s arm wrap around his neck, the other no doubt clutching the shoebox. A loud knocking sounded from the bedroom’s door as he reached forward and felt along the window. It was large, but the inside sill was narrow. He pulled himself up, the balls of his feet perched precariously, Jaxon’s weight nothing on his back.
“Are you sure there’s nothing in the way? I’m not going to land on something and break my own leg, right?” Shawn’s eyes only picked up a bright blur in the afternoon light. His heart was racing, and he breathed quickly through his nose.
“Yes, I’m sure. Just drop straight down. I’ll tell you when to brace yourself.”
Shawn swallowed, then tilted forward, right as a loud bang sounded from Cassie’s room.
“Now!” Jaxon cried. Shawn braced his legs and within seconds felt his feet connect with the ground below in a sharp but pain-free jolt. The landing had shaken Jaxon’s hold, but he was instantly off of Shawn’s back and pulling his brother across the lawn.
“Shawn, you need to let me do something. I can at least slow her down.”
“No. Don’t you dare go all Carrie right now.”
Jaxon was puffing. “I can at least try to control it.”
“No,” Shawn said breathlessly as they practically slammed into the side of their borrowed truck. He pulled the door open and fumbled around in his bag on the back seat. “Promise me you—”
“I’d stop if I were you,” a woman said from behind, and Shawn felt his stomach drop. His fingers had just brushed one of the large lenses of the Grim mask, but he froze at the feel of a gun barrel brushing against the back of his skull. He raised both hands in the air next to his head. Before he could speak or even think, the gun fired, and Shawn fell to his knees, ears screaming.
He didn’t know what happened. He ran his fingers through his hair, along his neck and the side of his face, but there was no damage. The breaths he drew in came so fast, he felt lightheaded. He turned his head to the right, then to the left, but of course saw nothing. Then the woman grunted behind him. Shawn hurriedly reached into his bag once more. Before even thinking twice about who was watching, he pulled on the Grim mask and activated the lenses.
When he turned around, Jaxon was standing over Officer Valdez, a grin on his face, her gun in his hand. He was pointing the weapon at her face, which was full of fury and fear. Shawn turned and saw people from the funeral gathered at the windows of Cassie’s house, saw Rhonda and Frank, side by side, staring at him in horror. Shit, he thought. “Jax.”
His brother turned and looked at him.
“Not here. Everyone’ss watching. You’ll—”
With a cry, Officer Valdez launched herself at Jaxon, knocking him backward against the Ford’s dirty white exterior. His head slammed into the truck, and he dropped the pistol at the force of the attack. It fell to the pavement with a clatter. In a split second, Valdez had scooped it up. She brought it up in Jaxon’s direction, finger clenched over the trigger.
Shawn reacted before thinking. He lunged toward the officer, gripped the side of her head between his hands, and squeezed as hard as he could. Her skull resisted for a moment. A wordless yell come from her mouth, then her head crumpled. Her body fell to the ground heavily. He looked at Jaxon, who grinned at him with wide eyes.
Then the screaming started.
“Go!” Shawn yelled through the mask’s slits. He jumped into the truck on the passenger side, bloodied hands leaving crimson streaks on the vinyl seats. The other door slammed as Jaxon threw himself inside, started the vehicle, and stepped hard on the accelerator, tires screeching as they made their escape.
—-
Isaac watched Vance, who paced back and forth in the main room of their bunker.
“Ublyudok!” The big Russian gripped the edge of a large table and flipped it on its side. The crash echoed throughout the room. Isaac flinched back, watching his uncle fling a glass against the far wall. Vance snarled.
“How could you have known...?” Isaac asked, hands up, eyes wide. “None of us truly expected them to be stupid enough to go to Cassie’s funeral. Ivan, this isn’t your fault.”
“She was undercover. How the fuck did they know she was mine?”
Isaac frowned, but kept quiet.
“And now they have disappeared,” Vance continued. “Who knows how much of a head start they have?”
“There’s an APB out on them,” Isaac said. “You sent Grant to plaster their faces on every surface in Redborough and the surrounding areas. They won’t get far.”
“That will take time. Too much time. They could slip through our fingers before the city even hears about this.”
“Their sketches will be on the news, in the papers.”
Vance scoffed, then ran a thick-fingered hand through his grey hair.
After a few moments of silence, Isaac spoke. “Sir, you need more men out there. I can help.” Vance turned and stared at him, bringing a twinge of nervousness to Isaac’s belly. He held up a hand defensively. “They are more than pissed now. If they can’t find you, they’re going to look for the rest of us. Emma’s in more danger now than before, and she’s out there.”
Vance considered him. “They could find you. They could kill you as they killed Elena.”
“I
’m willing to take that risk to help,” Isaac said without hesitation.
A long, quiet moment passed. He knew Vance could easily refuse, knew that if he couldn’t convince his uncle to let him leave, he’d have to find a different way, regardless of the undercover men guarding the bunker’s entrance.
“If you come across them alone,” Vance said at last, “you run the other way. Do not try to apprehend or kill them. You run.”
“Of course,” Isaac said. The look on his uncle’s face pained him slightly. “I don’t want to die.”
“Meet up with Grant and the others first, help take these two out. Do not bother with torture, or infiltration, or anything. You kill them fast. You end this.” Isaac nodded. “You can use my vehicle. Do not fly. Stick to heavily populated roads but stay out of sight in public places. They know your face.” Vance paused, staring at Isaac. “I feel like I am sending you to your death.”
“I’m going to be fine. I promise. I’ll get to Grant, take out Jaxon and Shawn, find Emma. I’ll stay in contact with you.”
“I cannot promise I will be able to answer, or that we will still be here if you come back.”
Isaac nodded. “I understand, sir.”
Vance approached him quickly then, and pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing, cutting Isaac’s breath short. Tears of pain pricked the corners of his eyes, but he embraced the Russian back.
Finally, Vance released him. “Jesus,” Isaac gasped, then flinched as his uncle clapped him sharply on the back.
“I will get your phone.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I am no monster, like Shawn and Jaxon.” The Russian turned and disappeared through a door.
Isaac grinned. He wasn’t afraid. The only emotion he felt was elation, regardless of the impending possibility that he could be attacked by Grim and his freaky little sidekick. He was still smiling when his uncle returned, Isaac’s powered off cell in hand.
“Now go.” Vance said as he handed him his phone along with a spare vehicle key. “Take it easy on the car if you can.” He placed a hand on Isaac’s shoulder and squeezed. “Goodbye, plemyannik.”
Chapter Eight
THEN
Grim Judgment Page 9