Hell To Pay

by Andrik Rovson

  Cathy sensed her new husband's tension, her head half turned in his direction, expecting him to notice her constantly. She was honest enough with herself she understood she often behaved like a spoiled as a child, always wanting attention. His raw lust for her, captured in a quick glance made her shudder inside, like he'd slipped his hand under her skirt in the elevator or as they rode in the car, sitting side by side.

  She watched her man, recognizing his seemingly casual air was his way of looking at something without looking at it. His languid looks and short glances had always seemed strange before she'd spent so much time with him, day and night. Jabo's eyes would move, but his head didn't follow. He was clearly hiding his interest, taking subtle but extreme care, all so someone far away wouldn't notice he was paying attention, never showing with his posture or head movements.

  She wasn't as good as him but she picked it up, enough he looked at her quickly, and gave his head a little shake, telling her to not react or try to pick up what he had. It made her feel good, a sign he tracked her all the time. It was a feral quality that had scared her the first time she understood it, a powerful presence that wasn't civilized – a predator alive to the world around him.

  She smiled at him, giving him what he called her 'dumb blond' look, hiding behind what other people expected a stunning female like her to be. The majority of men and women assumed high IQ couldn't co-exist with gut aching beauty with natural blonde hair.

  “So, all ready to go up?” she asked, letting Jabo turn to her along with Albert, moving along the counter. A man with a large suitcase took their spot, eager to check in and relax, greeted with the clerk's hyper friendly 'how can I help you?'

  “I need to go to the bathroom, go on ahead,” Jabo said, biting his lip, uncharacteristic for him. His posture shifted, revealing his chameleon abilities in a way she'd never seen before. Who the hell is this? He was acting like he was a goof or secretly gay. It made Albert look at him quizzically, then, getting the idea, that it was an act with some hidden purpose, he nodded his agreement.

  “See you upstairs then, room 416?” Albert switched gears as well. He spoke their room number a little too loud, not turning his head to survey the lobby, seeing Jabo had that covered, “You feeling a little car sick?”

  “Yesss,” Jabo went all purple and pink on them, he was loudly flaming and proclaiming 'I like MEN'. He got a smirking look from Cathy, hearing her husband sound like he was on the prowl for a nice man in the bathroom, not very careful about hiding it from anyone in the lobby, getting the slightest wink back, all she needed to confirm she'd picked up the new ploy. But it didn't answer any questions. What the hell was going on?

  “Well you run on up when you're feeling better,” Cathy twittered her fingers at him, like they were friends who'd heard it all before. “Ciao.” It was turning into fun, but the scary kind.

  Jabo asked another hotel employee walking by where the bathroom was, his voice and movements a little bigger than they should be, keeping up his act, portraying an obvious gay man. As she and Albert shoved off, heading up to their rooms upstairs, Cathy remembered a friend in college who'd turned out to be gay, then showed her they weren't freaks, just oriented differently. It was a life lesson she'd taken to heart, never judging others based on what society said about their choices in life. What you did defined you, but it didn't mean you were good or bad, it just reflected your preferences.

  She'd turned enemies into allies with that simple truth. If you changed what you did, how you behaved, then you truly changed who you were deeper inside. It was the basis of most religious beliefs, that the soul was at the core, an entity that decided each second what to do. In Cathy's opinion, God, if he existed, had little to do with it.

  In the lobby, walking quickly to the bathroom, Jabo used a mirrored panel on the wall to check the man he'd spotted in the lobby. He'd been focused on them then tried to act disinterested, like he hadn't been looking. That motion, turning away too quickly, trying to act like he was waiting for someone else had given him away. He'd tried to back it up by sitting down in a chair, one that partially faced them, picking up a magazine to flip through. It was pitiful for an operator like Jabo. He might as well have worn a kid's toy plastic helmet, one with a revolving yellow light on top, sporting a flag that said 'Mr. Sneaky'.

  When they'd lingered by the front desk he'd grown bolder, taking out his phone, like he'd got a text or notification, turning toward them, obviously taking their pictures. It seemed stupid to Jabo, since Cathy had warned them they would be covered by multiple cameras the moment they entered the parking lot, then walked inside the concrete walled building that looked like a fortress. Their security cameras had recorded pictures of Cathy and him, she'd even used her real ID – why was this clown taking more? It made no sense, but it confirmed the man was interested in them. He had no doubts this was the same guy, the tail he'd spotted, pulling alongside in heavy traffic before he dropped back. Since both Albert and Cathy were always skeptical about his paranoia, he'd do this little Op himself, and prove he was right later. If the guy wasn't tailing them he'd find out quickly, apologize, then move on. But if he was...

  Moving up to a urinal, acting like he needed to pee, then it turned out he did. His prickling situational awareness picked up the man he'd spotted, entering the bathroom behind him. It was very unprofessional, unless he wanted to talk or take a shot at intimidating Jabo, assuming a gay man would be a wimp, someone he could scare, forcing him to reveal what he'd been doing in the server farm building. It the man who'd followed him into the bathroom was armed it would be dangerous to confront him. It was never a sure thing. There was a chance Jabo would be shot if he was forced to take his weapon. The real world could bite you. This wasn't the movies where the good guys never got hurt. If the man knew what he was doing...

  He didn't.

  “So, you're cute,” Jabo walked right up to him, entering his very personal space, then cupping his crotch gently, all in a few seconds after he'd zipped up – making sure they were alone in the bathroom. Combat had taught Jabo seconds were precious. The most precious are the first tics after initial engagement, closing with the enemy. You move, you attack, you overpower, you win in that first gasp of anticipation. Hesitate, think instead of acting, reconsider and you die.

  “What?” the man stepped back, disgusted and shocked by Jabo's very homosexual come on – openly touching his cock. It confirmed what he'd sensed in the lobby, that he was clearly gay, maybe on the prowl.

  Lance immediately questioned why he'd come in after him. It was a stupid move, driven by over confidence and the need to be recognized. The moment Jabo's hand went to his fly he wanted to escape. As big as the man who'd grabbed his crotch, Lance was glad he could reach out to push this crazy faggot away so he could get the hell out of there.

  'Exactly what I wanted you to do' Jabo thought, grabbing the man's hands as he reached up to push at his chest, making space. Gripping the man's wrists firmly, he'd crossed his arms as he lifted them up, then unwound them, forcing Lance's forearms to turn in a circle, then twist his body to follow the motion Jabo kept up. Using almost unconscious suggestion, purely physical but uniquely mesmerizing, Jabo stepped into his body slightly, forcing the man off balance so he started falling backwards, his upper torso driven toward the floor, off balance. Keeping it up so he couldn't regain his poise, now driving him there, faster than gravity, he dropped his body to the floor, bouncing the back of his head off the hard tile surface, stunning him enough knock him out temporarily. When he opened his eyes the first thing he saw was a knife blade pointed at his eyeball, then Jabo's iron grip crushing the sides of his neck, damping down the blood flow to his brain. He froze, then his brain started shutting down.

  “Shhh, shh, don't do anything, calm down, you're okay, relax,” his voice was soothing and oddly friendly, like he was a comrade hurt in battle, or a person who'd fainted on the sidewalk and was being helped by a stranger. The man passed out and Jabo pulled him into a stall, th
en called up to Albert.

  “I got him, who? The fucker who was following us, yeah, like you didn't notice,” his fight with the older man who was constantly trying to make Jabo the tail on Albert's dog was a real pain in the ass. “I'm down in the lobby bathroom, nope, nobody here at the moment, do you have an idea how we can get him up to the room?”

  Albert showed up five very long, nerve wracking minutes later, wearing an ill fitting overall in the burgundy color of the hotel with its logo on one side of his chest and a name tag that said Rodrigo Martinez on the other. Albert had found a large blue recyclables container on wheels. Between the two of them they efficiently loaded up their quarry. After he was safely inside the plastic tub Lance started coming around. Jabo reached in and their quarry was quickly knocked out again with a few seconds of Jabo's strong hand squeezing the sides of his neck, mashing down the arteries feeding his brain. No blood flow, no consciousness.

  “You could give him brain damage you know,” Albert said, then saw Jabo didn't give a shit. This unsettled the government man. Jabo was ruthless. He'd assumed that kind of pitiless wrath wasn't in his makeup. Albert had made Jabo as more mercenary but not vicious. Hadn't he'd taken a large re-up bonus, to finance his honeymoon for all appearances – flippant about his role in the server building, bored til now, not taking any of it seriously, as a mission. After all hadn't he brought his newlywed wife, like it was a vacation?

  They used the freight elevator in the back and hustled the blue can to their room, calling ahead for Cathy to be ready, texting her when they were close, so she could confirm the hallway to their room was clear.

  “There aren't any cameras on this hallway, I looked, just the ones off the regular elevators toward the front.” Albert told Jabo as their elevator stopped, showing showing he'd done stuff like this before. Jabo decided he should rethink his estimation about this man. They both were finding each had qualities, both good and bad, things the other hadn't initially noticed.

  “What the hell is going on, first you call up and say you have a guy in the bathroom downstairs, Albert disappears and now he's in our room. We're all going to jail, this is kidnapping!” Cathy was on the edge of hysteria, surprised by their out of bounds actions, in her opinion. Always prim and proper, it was the first time she'd lost it and cussed at him. Marriage was looking up, but this small rebellion required some feedback. Daddy's home.

  Jabo didn't hesitate, grabbing Cathy by her forearms to steer her over to sit on the edge of the bed as he nodded to Albert who began moving the man out of the can to the floor where he started tying him up and gagging him, worried he'd come to and start shouting loud enough to get noticed. If Jabo choked off his blood supply again he might not have any brain function.

  “Do you trust me, yes or no?” Jabo stared at Cathy's face, feeling their rushed marriage followed quickly by including her in his little operation might have been a huge mistake. He'd thought she understood this was coming, eventually, taking hostages, breaking them for information, ending with some form of attack and killing people.

  Jabo was out for revenge. Solving the damned mystery about what LazaRuss was doing was entirely secondary to him. Ruthless people had attacked his family, killing without mercy. Everyone who was associated with that decision was dead, period – including this guy if they found out he'd directly participated in any way in his Grandparent's killing.

  “Yes, I...”

  “That's it, no discussion, you follow my lead, my orders if you will,” he looked at her, knowing he had to be clear instead of loving. There wasn't time to explain now things had started. “Never question me again or you're off the team.” That hit her hard, making her worry he meant they might be done as a couple as well, which was always a possibility, something he'd risked taking her along. She was the one who wanted to work with him, be close. Alright darling, this is how this shit works. His stare told her there was no discussion, nothing but absolute obedience from now on or she would be out.

  “Are you on my team or do you want to go home to your parents until I'm done?” He could see her trying to work out some way she could act as a second leader, not as a soldier who took orders and followed them without reservation, wanting to be his equal in some way.

  “Cathy, I've done this all my life it seems, and I'm good at it. I win, always, which is why they wanted me to stay on, to pass on what I've learned, so others could learn how to win like I do, nearly every time. Right now I need to win this battle. That means we find out as much as we can about the assholes who sent this guy to follow us back to our hotel. They were doing it to get intel on us so they could kill us after a round of very vicious torture, so we'll spill everything. They need to find out what we know and don't know. That's how this scenario works. Getting it right means life or death in my world. So, in or out?”

  “He's ready to move or we can do it here,” Albert felt like telling Cathy to go, but Jabo had taken charge and the last time he'd looked in Jabo's eyes he saw he'd lose any confrontation with him. Once again he was hitching his wagon to a powerful man who got things done, his way. Cathy made things trickier. When things started to happen, when they were on the move, she might need more hand holding like she was now. What could she possibly offer that they needed that bad? It took a special kind of dedication for a woman to operate at full capacity in the military. Maybe she didn't have it.

  Cathy swallowed, her throat dry, the common side effect of massive adrenaline flooding into the blood stream. “I'm in, a member of the team.” She wanted to cry or throw herself into his arms, but soldiers don't do that with their commanders, not when the shit hit the fan and was flying all over the place. She'd wanted this, to prove herself to him and he'd given her the chance. Buck up girl, open your eyes, follow him, the man you love!

  “Good, we're going to interrogate him, do you have any ideas where we can do that without anyone asking questions, it could get...” he looked at Albert who sighed, agreeing he'd go along, like Cathy had just promised she would, “messy.”

  Chapter Ten

  Brent knew the first cardinal rule of talking to cops – don’t

  K. Eade

  “Are you guys cops?” Lance was tied to a metal chair, tested when he'd pulled at the strong, reinforced tape they'd wrapped around his forearms, tying them to the chair, leaving his legs free. It didn't seem right, expecting they'd want him completely bound up, including his lower legs.

  Jabo looked at him, as Albert watched, sitting at a nearby table, checking the feed from the video camera they'd bought on the way, complete with a tripod, ideal for their purposes, all for under three hundred dollars. Really good technology was so cheap these days, and really high quality. The box on the camera had said it would record in 4K, whatever that was. They'd also sprang for a forty dollar microphone that was sitting on the table next to Lance, who sat, bound to his chair, facing Jabo, his interrogator who was ignoring him at the moment.

  “You can't make me talk, I'm going to press charges, you're all going down.” His face didn't look as brave as his words, canceling their effect the moment he spoke. “Just let me go, no harm done, I got a hard knock on my head, that's all, no big deal, final offer guys.”

  Jabo looked at him, like he was an alien he'd found laying in a wheat field covered with swirling crop signs – a complete mystery. Staying silent he went over to whisper in Albert's ear. The older man looked over at Lance, like he was regretting he'd been part of this, that something terrible was going to happen to Lance, something he'd been advised he wouldn't want to witness. Albert rose, pursing his lips, giving his head a short shake, contemplating something terrible.

  “Call me when you're done and I'll get ready to...” Albert let it go at that, implying Lance would be dead when Jabo was finished getting what he needed to know out of him, a body to be carried away and buried somewhere. He looked at Lance, his sad eyes full of pity, shaking his head before he turned and walked out the door, rattling the knob to make sure it was closed and locked, aft
er he'd left.

  “So, you need any water, bathroom?” Jabo was solicitous, further disarming the young man who'd finally noticed Jabo was close to his age, strange for the level of power his posture and voice exuded, different from the caged violence of Grigor, a graying lion snarling behind bars at the zoo. Jabo was the mean assistant Principal at a school filled with poor, hard ass kids who didn't give a shit, keeping it all from blowing up day by day. He could handle that, what was he worried about?

  “No?” Jabo raised his eyebrows, then went to the table where he pulled out some blue examination gloves, giving him the air of a technician, not a torturer, but maybe Lance was wrong. He couldn't place him, the good looks, body of a linebacker, razor sharp hair, military maybe?

  “You in the special forces?” Lance tried to engage him, find common ground, “you guys must learn some cool moves, kick ass stuff, how to kill with one blow, that kind of shit.”

  “Lance,” Jabo looked at his driver's license, sensing, from the way the guy was freaking out that he'd been right, but there was always the chance, at first, that he'd fucked up, taking the wrong guy, just someone who'd looked suspicious. He thought he was the guy in the car that had pulled up beside them then fallen back, a quick look inside, so he could follow them later when they got out. It was how he'd operated, enough information to make sure he could spot his quarry when he tried to blend in or hurry off.

  “Your nose, it's very distinctive, broken?” Jabo was friendly, taking a sip from a water bottle, like he didn't want to start the messy business of beating the shit out of this man to make him talk, like it was a hard job he'd rather put off as long as possible.

  “Yeah, college, some asshole, you know, drunk, in my face,” he laughed nervously, “sort of like you, pushy.” Lance tried to make eye contact but Jabo kept moving to his side or looking away, like he was distracted, thinking, trying to remember if he'd told his wife he'd pick up the dry cleaning as he drove home. “What the fuck do you want, tell me, shit I'm being held against my will, but I'll help you out, really, what is it, just tell me.”