The Real Thing

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The Real Thing Page 15

by Jacob Prytherch


  Roman looked up and down, his memory slipping quickly through the details. Down, third left, fourth right.

  He skipped down the steps three at a time, sliding down the handrail for the last descent before sprinting through a group of three returning party goers, slipping between their surprised faces as if they weren't there.

  No need to worry about the guards, they'll find me wherever I go, thought Roman. The tracker in my cuff link. It’s not just for signalling Ozawa, also for keeping tabs on the Black Cat.

  Part of him considered dropping the tracker and simply escaping the ship but he quickly pushed the thought aside. He burst back onto the street of revellers, diving horizontally across the front of a stall and narrowly missing both customers and stock before skidding sideways down another corridor. No need for fear, just keep thinking.

  He sprinted the length of a mercifully empty corridor before turning right and finding the door marked 49a. This was it.

  At his best guess he had a maximum of two minutes. It was more than enough. The maze of tunnels and mass of bodies would slow his pursuers down and make him hard to pinpoint. Time to get to work.

  He slipped the skeleton key card down the door lock and slipped inside.

  It was more unnerving than he thought it would be to see the look of surprise on Luis' face – his own face.

  Luis was sat with his briefcase of bastard Cupid on a table next to him, a roll up hanging from the corner of his mouth. He was wearing the same suit as Roman. Perfect.

  The cigarette dropped to the floor and anger rushed to replace the surprise as Luis quickly pulled a gun from beneath his suit jacket and rushed forwards, grabbing Roman about the throat and slamming him into the metal wall.

  “How the fuck did you find me?” hissed Luis, his breath stinking of booze and smoke. Good, his reactions should be down. I can't outrun a bullet.

  “I brought you here, you idiot,” said Roman, his mouth twisting into a sneer that he knew would get Luis' blood boiling.

  One minute thirty.

  “What are you talking about?” said Luis, pressing the silencer of his gun into Roman's cheek. Surely this must be just as strange for him to be looking at my face?

  “I arranged it. I arranged everything,” said Roman, trying to ignore the fact that Luis could kill him at any moment. “The suite, the transport, even what you're wearing to 'recognise you'. You're here to dispense your left over dog piss Cupid to a bored millionaire gold digging husband who is just wanting to ease the time until his aged wife keels over?”

  Luis' face started to drop, but he pressed the gun even more firmly into Roman's face, causing pain to lance through his cheekbone. One minute.

  “You didn't think to try and verify the source of the message did you? You were never the brains of the operation, and after losing Medea, Idalia, after that then you just saw the money. That's all you ever cared about.”

  Luis' eyes twitched. “I'll kill you.”

  “Maybe,” replied Roman, squirming as Luis held him. “I just want to ask you one question first. Why my face?”

  Luis grunted. “Your reputation. No one knows your name except me, Roman. But your face is well known and still trusted by those wanting your product.”

  “You destroyed my reputation.”

  “Poor boy,” said Luis with a snarl. “It was your own fault, getting caught by that crazy bitch.”

  “She was more than that,” said Roman, feeling his own anger rising. Keep calm. “She was brilliant.”

  “You killed her, I saw the news report. Dead in a pool. Where's your morality now?”

  Roman gritted his teeth. “I never had any. I'm trying to make some more now, a new formula for my own life. I have Idalia's death on my hands too.”

  Luis laughed, forcing a wave of disgust to run through Roman. Thirty seconds.

  “She left me the supply of goods though, with no fifty percent share to work with. I'm rich.”

  “You still wanted more though.”

  “Always,” said Luis. He adjusted his grip on the gun. “Fuck this, I'm done talk-”

  Roman moved his hands faster than he'd ever thought he could, down and around Luis' arm to break his grip. He heard the bullet smash into the wall just behind his head. Luis turned and tried to train the gun on him but Roman lashed out quickly, kicking it from his hand as it discharged again, sending a bullet through the briefcase on the table so that it bled pink Cupid onto the floor.

  Luis threw a punch at Roman which caught him on the thigh. The man was older but still incredibly strong, which was probably why he'd had no problem masquerading as Roman's age. Roman moved away and knocked the latch on the window which flew open in the wind, leading to another balcony and the churning black waters below.

  Luis was a professional and looked to raise the stakes again, rushing for the gun that had fallen beneath the table. Roman quickly slid under from the other side and lashed out with a kick that smashed into Luis's mouth, sending the man scrambling backwards clutching at his face. Roman pulled himself back out from under the table quickly and vaulted over it, leaping on Luis's back as he turned, blood streaming from his broken teeth.

  Roman latched on with a sleeper hold, grabbing Luis' neck hard and kicking the back of the man’s legs to drop him to his knees. It was a position of power that compensated for Luis' extra strength.

  Any time now. Please!

  “You lost your rubies,” said Roman as Luis squirmed in his grasp. The bigger man spat a wad of blood on the floor.

  “Fuck you. I'll find you, and I'll kill you. I won't rest until I do it.”

  “Don't make promises you can't keep,” hissed Roman as he heard the footsteps thundering down the corridor. He kicked Luis hard, slamming him against the door before running towards the open window and vaulting up onto the railing. For a moment the dark waters yawned below as his balance threatened to desert him, but he managed to hold himself steady and grab the balcony above, pulling himself up.

  He heard the voices below as the guards told Luis to freeze, and smiled to himself as he heard the man with the stolen face shout muffled curses. By the time they realised it wasn't him it would be too late, but then Luis would have to answer for his own crimes.

  It took a little longer than he had estimated to vault from balcony to balcony. The sea below called to him and the tiredness in his limbs made him wish for respite, but he pushed himself onwards. He moved from window to window, trying to avoid any rooms with their lights on. He had to give a false and innocent explanation to one or two couples that he met on the way, pretending that he was a jilted partner looking to make a grand gesture. Whether they believed him or not was a moot point as at last he navigated himself back to Jun and Kuri's quarters, pulling himself up as quietly as he could and staying close to the wall outside so he couldn't be seen. He could hear Jun still trying to press his point as carefully as possible, but Ozawa wasn't having it. Time to deal with this, once and for all.

  After waiting for what seemed like an age, Roman leapt into the room and grabbed Ozawa. He twisted the old man’s arm away from his body as he swung him around and pushed his body hard towards the balcony rail. He slammed Ozawa's gut into the railing and forced his head over so he was staring at the water below.

  “Your time’s up, old man,” he said, spitting venom. He had no love lost for Ozawa and it was time to show it.

  “Black Cat, don't!” screamed Kuri, her eyes filling with tears. She tried to move towards them but Roman shot her a warning glance.

  “Not a step closer. I am sick and tired of this, of all of this. Double cross laced with double cross, myself included. I'm not going back. I'm never going back to that prison.”

  “You will,” said Ozawa through gritted teeth. “I'll see to it personally.”

  “And that's why you have to die.”

  The bullet tore through Roman's shoulder, sending him reeling backwards until he was leaning precariously over the railing. He looked back to see Jun, gun raised
as he aimed towards Roman's chest. Blood pumped freely from Roman's shoulder and fell to the balcony floor, mixing pink with the salt spray. He felt strangely calm seeing it, though it was far from expected.

  “Why?” asked Roman, feeling the fire in his arm.

  “He is my father in law, or will be. I cannot see him harmed.”

  Ozawa was standing straight again, fire in his eyes as he started to pull his own gun out. He'll kill me. This is it. The whole plan was flawed. I've failed.

  Before Ozawa could pull his weapon the bullet from Jun's gun had thudded into Roman's chest. The Black Cat tumbled off the balcony in a bloody heap, spinning away to land in the dark waters that swallowed up all trace of him.

  Ozawa looked hard at Jun, studying the man’s features as he massaged his own neck. He felt the pain start to subside as he felt himself returning to normal. His daughter was still on the bed, her eyes wide as she watched him. Jun was slowly lowering his gun, his eyes still staring at the space that the Black Cat had occupied. The boy had defended him, and had preserved his honour against a sickening thief who had threatened his life. Perhaps Jun would be able to defend his daughter, and give her the life that he had always wanted for her. Such a thought was somehow alien to him, but the fact that the Black Cat had overpowered him and almost brought an end to his life had pulled his mortality into focus, with all the frailties that such a fact carried with it. He would not survive forever.

  Would his daughter really be better off with a money whore such as Haruba? The man would provide for her financially but what about emotionally? Kuri was far from helpless, but she would need a husband who would fight for her and her family, and she needed a partner that she would be willing to fight for. Maybe she really needed love.

  “Jun,” he said, “we need to have a discussion.”

  He tried to swim, he did. At least no one could have said that about him. He never gave up. The cho-freighter kept moving on its inexorable course, drifting away and rocking him in its current as he desperately kicked in the darkness, blood seeping out into the water. Sleep called to him, the darkness of the night, the all-enveloping rest that would finally grant him peace. All things must come to rest, it was the laws of physics. All things must end.

  If I sleep then perhaps I'll dream.

  The cold of the water was a welcome hand, dragging his legs as if plucking violin strings, its music calling him to the depths. What creatures there must be below, winding through the water and moving on their way, free within the cloying dark.

  The water rushed over his head, smothering him in love.

  Fire lanced through his shoulder again, waking him and making him scream. Water rushed in to fill his lungs. He spluttered, trying to clear the liquid but feeling it still closing in around him. The pain did not stop as he felt himself being pulled upwards. Water parted and fell away above him before cool, clean air kissed his features. He felt arms and heard the sounds of effort as he was dragged out of the water and onto the small motorboat.

  The air was a rarefied delicacy, filling his lungs as he breathed, opening his eyes to the stars. A face moved in front of his eyes. It was beautiful, but it was not the right face. In the end though, did it really matter? Her soul shone through. He saw Aarati/Tavisi, his love, his world. He coughed hard, water splashing onto the bottom of the boat as each spasm wrenched his body, releasing the sea.

  “What happened?” she asked, seeing the blood still pumping freely from his shoulder, spilling slowly onto the floor. She grabbed a cloth and pressed it hard to the wound, causing a fresh wave of pain to lance through him. He grunted, hating the pain but relishing the feeling of being alive, and of being free.

  “His first bullet went wide, hit my shoulder instead of my back. His second shot was good though, Ozawa would have killed me if he'd fired. The old bastard was aiming directly at my face.” He began to peel off his clothes to reveal the Kevlar vest that Tavisi had managed to steal from ParCorp storage, an integral part of the plan. “I feel like my body is all bruise and no muscle.” Tavisi lifted a breeze-block from the bottom of the boat and wrapped his jacket around it, before dropping it into the sea, where it was quickly lost. Goodbye tracker.

  “I feel free,” said Tavisi, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she bent over him. She kissed his brow, long and hard, a kiss that was meant to last the ages. He relished it, revelled in it. His wonder, his beauty.

  “So it went well?” she asked eventually.

  “Well? I don’t know if I would say that,” said Roman, his eyes almost glazing over as he stared up at the stars, glittering above him. “Luis must be taken by now with his case of knock-off Cupid, so hopefully they will pin at least some of his crimes on him, and maybe some of mine. I don’t know about Ozawa. I have no idea if he will forgive Jun. There is a lot of bad feeling there and I was lucky that both of those young lovers agreed to the operation, as it was simply based on faith. If they can be accepted into the family then I will be happy with that. Getting rid of me should help. I hope that they can live together, be together. I just hope after all of this that I will have done something good in my life.”

  Tavisi smiled. “It will be good.”

  “I hope so,” said Roman, his eyes filling with tears. “I truly hope so.”

  “They’ll be fine, I’m sure,” said Tavisi, kissing him hard on the lips. The pain subsided, somehow her love pushing any pain away from him. “And we’ll be good. We’ll be the couple we always should have been. We have nothing to go back to. Korea will be our home now.”

  “I feel like I’ve died,” said Roman, coughing a little as he sat up. The cho-freighter was already moving away, its glinting lights fading into the night far into the distance.

  “You’re living,” she said, “living with me. I love you.”

  Her arms were warm. They wrapped around him and drove the cold from his body.

  “A cat has nine lives,” he said. “I’ve only lost one. Eight more to go.”

  The engine fired up, moving onwards through the crests of the waves. The land was far away, a land of strange opportunities and unknown future, with a language that he couldn’t understand, but a future that he could care about. The neon of Japan was a distant past, a darkness that was lost within the waters behind them. All they had was a future, a future together and a freedom that could never be matched. Roman had seen the strings, and he had cut them.

  ###

  A note from the author.

  Reviews are worth their weight in gold. If you enjoyed this book (or even if you didn’t) would you consider leaving a review on your site of choice?

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  Author Bio:

  Jacob Prytherch is an author of science fiction, horror and weird fiction. He started writing due to a love of Bradbury, Tolkien and Gaiman, and carries on writing due to restlessness. He currently lives in Birmingham with his wife and two daughters, writing as much as he can in the darkness before they wake up. Coffee is both his friend and his enemy.

 

 

 


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