The Devil You Know

by James P. Sumner

He smiles. “That’s my kind of answer.”

  I gather the contents of the folder together and hand it to Jessie. “Good luck, folks.”

  There’s a murmur of thanks from the group as they hustle across the apartment and out the door.

  Ruby’s standing beside me, quietly sipping her coffee. She’s wearing a large hoodie and leggings and looks incredible.

  “You okay?” I ask her.

  “Mm-hmm.” She nods. “I’m gonna go pack for Paris. I assume we’re leaving as soon as possible?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  She brushes her hand over my arm and back as she walks away, toward the bedroom.

  She didn’t say much during the briefing, and she’s surprisingly subdued, considering I just told her she’s going on an all-expenses-paid trip to Paris. Something’s definitely bothering her.

  I’m sure she’ll tell me when she’s ready.

  12

  April 25, 2020 – 20:33 CEST

  Paris is beautiful at night. Lights line the streets, reflecting off the water of the Seine. The Eiffel Tower stands like a beacon, watching over the city. The traffic is busy without being intrusive. The people move at an easy pace along the sidewalks, content in their own world.

  If I were here for any other reason, I’d be in awe.

  Ruby and I are walking hand in hand along the banks of the river. I’m wearing a tailored black suit, which she complimented more than once before leaving the hotel. She’s wearing a blood-red evening gown. It clings to all the right places, and she looks incredible. It’s elegant and classy, yet she somehow still manages to wear it on the right side of slutty, which is her safe space when it comes to formal fashion.

  The cool breeze is more refreshing than brisk. We walk with purpose but with no great hurry. I can see our destination on the other side of the river. There’s a bridge up ahead that will lead us there.

  While the silence between us is comfortable, it isn’t natural. Taking Ruby to Paris and telling her to dress formally is like taking a kid to Disneyland. She would be excited beyond words. Yet she’s remained uncharacteristically subdued since we left London yesterday. We know each other well enough to know when to give each other space, but even I can tell there’s something bothering her.

  “You okay?” I ask her.

  She smiles almost reluctantly. “Sure. Paris is lovely.”

  “It is. I know we’re here on business, but I figured you’d be a little more… I dunno… happy. This is your kinda town.”

  “I am. It’s great. Just focused on the job. That’s all.”

  Now I know something’s wrong.

  I stop and pull her to the side, turning her to face me. Then I lean against the waist-high wall that overlooks the Seine.

  “Contrary to popular belief, Ruby, I’m not an idiot.” I smile to try and keep the mood light. “Something’s been bothering you since the briefing yesterday, and it’s been too long for you to not say anything. What’s going on?”

  Ruby’s eyes search mine. I see the internal debate behind those hypnotic emeralds. She bites her lip, then exhales heavily.

  “Fine.” She pauses. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  I frown. “For what?”

  She gestures around her. “This. Paris. The mission. Where we’re going.”

  I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because…” She sighs. “Can I be honest?”

  I smile. “Are you ever not?”

  “I think you’re underestimating the situation. I think us being involved in Blackstar, with Schultz, has given you tunnel vision. You’re being sloppy, and you’re better than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You came here as if it’s just another day at the office. Adrian, you walked away from this world two years ago. Low-level contracts in Tokyo notwithstanding, you’re retired. You know how our world works. Someone steps away, and someone else steps up. I’m worried your reputation isn’t what it used to be.”

  I sigh. “I don’t give a damn about my reputation. I never have. I don’t need anyone to tell me how good I am at this.”

  “I know you don’t. But if you think a reputation isn’t currency in this game, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

  “I know it is. I like to think I’ve done enough over the years to—”

  “You walked away, Adrian. You weren’t killed, which is the single biggest reason for retirement for people like us. You walked away. I know why. You know why. But everybody else? They will see it as you quitting and admitting you can’t do this anymore. Most of the great and impressive things you’ve done lately were done behind closed doors. The only thing anyone in our world knows for sure about you now is that you got beaten to within an inch of your life by a little girl.”

  I roll my eyes and go to speak, but she points a finger at me before I can say anything.

  “And before you start, I’m not making fun of you or belittling Miley’s skills. She was about as deadly an adversary as you’ve seen in a long time. She was well trained and shockingly violent. But she was young and motivated. That’s what people saw. They saw the next generation almost killing the previous one.” She points across the river, toward the building we’re heading for. “Everyone in there knows who you are. Of course, they do. But they also know there’s little evidence anymore to suggest you’re anything like the Adrian Hell you used to be. I know you are, but perception is everything. When we walk in there, I’m telling you right now, it will be like a shiver of sharks smelling blood in the water. You need to stop being so… you about this.”

  I don’t say anything, letting her words sink in. She’s clearly been holding that speech inside a lot longer than the last twenty-four hours. Her breathing is heavy. Her eyes are locked on mine.

  “A group of sharks is a shiver?” I say eventually.

  Ruby rolls her eyes. “It was on an Attenborough thing the other week.”

  “Look, I appreciate your concern, but you’re worrying about nothing. Of course, I know the value of a good reputation. Josh taught me that. It’s how I became the man I am. Living long enough to voluntarily walk away from this life is proof enough that I’m still me. Look at Ichiro. He was the same.”

  She shakes her head. “No, he wasn’t. He was respected for walking away because of what he had done, not because of who he was. He didn’t build his legacy on the back of good marketing. You did, and it worked brilliantly. But they’re two different things.”

  I take a small step back from her. “What are you saying? That I’m a fraud?”

  She screws her face up. “What? No! Jesus, Adrian, have you not been listening? I’m not denying who you are. I’m trying to tell you that after two years, nobody cares anymore. Your reputation allowed you to secure a lot of high-paying work. Work that no one else had the chance to get. You also made a lot of enemies who tried to hire these people to kill you. That was a big payday a lot of good assassins had to turn down because we don’t hunt our own. But I’m worried you’re going to walk in there as if it’s the good ol’ days, expecting to be welcomed back with open arms and treated like the king you used to be. Adrian, you’re so driven by the purpose Blackstar has given you, I think you’re blind to the fact that the only value your reputation is good for here is as a notch on someone’s ammo belt.”

  I shake my head. “Feel better getting that all out?”

  She stares at me blankly. “What?”

  “I love you, Ruby, but this overbearing mother routine you sometimes do is tiresome. You’re worrying about nothing.”

  She chuckles humorlessly. “Oh, fuck you, Adrian. Fuck you! Don’t you dare dismiss me. Is this how you were with Josh when he tried to help? Hmm? Was he too afraid to be honest with you because of how you’d react? Because I can stay silent, Adrian. I can keep my peace if you want. If that would make life easier for you. If you want to walk around in your own self-importance. If that’s what you want, fine.” She pauses. “No wonder he walked
away from you.”

  Her last words hang in the air. Her visible anger doesn’t mask the immediate regret.

  She sighs. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just—”

  I hold my hands up. “No, please—say what you really think, Ruby. Don’t sugarcoat it on my account.”

  “You know I would never—”

  “No, you’re right. He did leave me. He did walk away. Because I told him to!”

  I raise my voice, and it takes her by surprise. Her eyes widen slightly. Her expression softens.

  “He spent well over a decade keeping a gun out of my mouth,” I continue. “He made me who I was, and I owed it to him to live that life. I didn’t just walk away for me, Ruby. I walked away for him. He deserved better than being my full-time carer. He was my brother, and I loved him. But I knew I was a burden to him. He should’ve been so much more, so much sooner. But he wasn’t—because of me. He died because, even after I stepped back so that he could have his own life, he got dragged down into my shit, and that’s on me. I live with that every fucking day, so don’t you tell me I’m being sloppy or naïve or careless!”

  Ruby says nothing. Her eyes glisten as tears form in them. Her hand absently moves to cover her mouth. A couple of people glance out the corner of their eye as they walk past, not daring to get involved in a domestic on the street.

  I look momentarily to the sky, then stare back into Ruby’s eyes. “Do you honestly think I still believe I’m the same man I was ten years ago? Twenty years ago? The mind and the spirit are still strong, but I know my body’s betraying me. However, I’m still as deadly as I ever was. I walk around in my own self-importance because that’s who Adrian Hell is. That’s how he became the man he did. How he earned the reputation he has. The reputation I have. Being that way is all I know anymore. You dance with the one who brung ya, Ruby. Josh helped make me this way because he knew it was the only way I’d survive. I do this to honor him. Maybe I’m too good at playing the role because you clearly think I’m a fucking idiot.” I point across the river. “You think I don’t know exactly what’s waiting for me inside there?”

  She shakes her head. A single tear escapes down her cheek.

  “You want a peek behind the curtain, Ruby? You want to really know what goes on inside here?” I tap my temple with my finger. “What happened with Miley five months ago scared the shit out of me. She made it look easy. Yeah, I still beat her, but doing so nearly killed me faster than she almost did. I hate the idea of not being able to do this anymore. The only thing I can do to compensate for that is play on my reputation. There’s an old saying: you either walk like you’re the king, or you walk like you don’t give a fuck who the king is. There will be a thousand bullseyes on my back the second I walk through those doors. Of course, there will. But you know what? Every single killer in there will take one look at me and know that trying to get that notch on their ammo belt still isn’t worth it. Because I’m still me, and that ain’t gonna change until someone puts a bullet in my head.”

  I pace away. My breathing is fast and shallow.

  Maybe I was keeping something inside that I needed to get out too.

  I stop and turn around to look at Ruby. Her arms are folded across her chest. Her eyes are wide and sparkling with tears. She’s shaking a little. Possibly because of the temperature. Possibly not.

  I feel bad for snapping like that. But I won’t apologize for it. It needed to be said, as much for my benefit as hers. She has doubts, and I understand that, but I need her to see I’m still the man I always have been. I need her to believe in me.

  If I lose her, I lose everything.

  I step toward her, and she moves to meet me. She reaches out and places a trembling hand on my arm.

  “You should have said something sooner,” she says softly. “If I’d known, I—”

  I smile. “I think we both should’ve spoken up sooner. Things might have been said in a healthier way if we hadn’t bottled it up and waited to erupt.”

  We embrace beneath the pale moonlight. The gentle rush of the river beside us is the only sound in the world. We hold each other for what feels like an eternity.

  When we part, she looks up at me and smiles. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

  I shrug. “I’m sorry for giving you reason to.”

  We kiss, then she holds my hand. We set off walking again, heading for the bridge ahead.

  “So, you’re ready for this, then?” Ruby asks.

  I nudge her playfully with my arm. “Always.”

  13

  20:56 CEST

  It took a few minutes for us to compose ourselves and for Ruby to fix her makeup. We spent another minute or two double-checking we were both okay. We’re good now.

  Hand in hand, we head inside the Palais de Platine—the Platinum Palace. It’s the fanciest casino in Paris and caters to the most pretentious assholes that high society has to offer. It’s also a safe space for assassins to hang out and find work. It’s managed by a slimy, yet respectably effective controller called Remy Fortin. He coordinates the handlers who arrange work for people like me. Occasionally, contractors will work direct, but we usually try to stay away from the business side and stick to what we know.

  There are numerous establishments like this around the world. Each one is overseen by someone like Fortin. A lot of assassins have their regular haunts. It’s how they network. Personally, I always tried to avoid places like this. Not really my scene.

  Ruby and I walk in through the large revolving doors. The glass is as clear as crystal and held in place by thin, golden frames. We stand just inside the entrance, taking the place in. There’s a loud, civilized rumble of chatter and activity in the air. Background music is barely audible. Sounds classical, like something you would hear in an elevator.

  Everyone is dressed in tuxedos and gowns. It’s hard to tell the upper-class pricks from the trained killers. At first glance, nobody pays us any attention. We’re simply two more well-dressed people in a casino. Nothing to see here.

  “How do you want to play this?” asks Ruby as she looks around at the opulence with awe.

  I smile to myself. It’s good to have her back.

  “We should try to blend in, lie low,” I reply. “Fortin might not even be here. No sense in drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

  She looks at me, smiling. “Since when are you subtle?”

  I grin back. “Well, I didn’t learn it from you.”

  “Asshole.”

  We laugh together and make our way further inside, climbing the few marble steps that lead to the main floor of the casino. It’s not quite Vegas, but I can taste the wealth in the air. Tables and slot machine are all occupied by people who seemingly enjoy handing over their money.

  To each their own, I guess.

  Ruby gestures toward a Blackjack table to our left. “You wanted to blend in…”

  “Yeah, I guess we’ll have to play something while we’re here,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Come on.”

  As we head over to the semicircular table, I notice the first couple of reactions from some of the guests. Nothing much. Just the occasional sideways glance, followed by a hushed conversation.

  I guess word will soon travel. Probably the right move to bide our time. Let the attention come to us.

  I sit in an empty chair to the right of the dealer. He’s a short man, probably in his late twenties, with a thin mustache. It’s either a fashion choice, or he’s simply too young to grow a real one. I can’t tell.

  He acknowledges my arrival with a courteous nod. I place a hundred-Euro bill on the table, which he quickly exchanges for chips—two fifties. The other players pay me no heed.

  I shuffle for comfort in my seat, fidgeting against the tie I had to wear. Ruby stands behind me, resting a hand casually on my shoulder. Ever the glamorous companion.

  I bet fifty and am swiftly dealt two cards. I’m familiar with the game. I’m not exactly Rain Man, but I know enough to pla
y it properly. I have to beat the dealer’s hand to win.

  I have a two and a queen.

  The dealer works his way around the table, dealing cards on request and collecting his winnings as he goes. He reaches me. I tap my finger twice on the table, signaling for another card.

  A nine.

  “Vingt et un,” he announces. He adds another fifty chip to mine and pushes them both toward me.

  “Did you win?” asks Ruby.

  I shrug. “It would appear so.”

  “Damn. Why have we never done this before? Ooo, you should bet a thousand next time!”

  I glance back at her. “That’s why.”

  “Oh, whatever,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “You’re boring.”

  “I’m also rich, and I intend to stay that way by not gambling all my money on a game of cards.”

  I stack my three chips together, then toss one back into the mix for the next hand.

  The dealer waits for all bets to finish, then deals the cards.

  I get a four and an eight.

  I wait my turn, then tap the table for a card.

  He deals me another four, giving me sixteen in total. There’s a good chance the dealer will beat such a low hand if I stick, but there’s a high risk of going over twenty-one if I take a fourth card.

  Screw it.

  I tap the table again.

  A seven.

  Damn it.

  “Did you lose?” asks Ruby.

  “I did,” I reply, sighing. “Thankfully, I still have the same amount I arrived with, so I haven’t lost anything, really. Let’s hope I don’t have to play this for long. We know how my luck tends to run.”

  She absently runs her fingers through the back of my hair. “Play a couple more hands, then we’ll go get a drink at the bar.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Just then, a waitress appears at our side, expertly holding a silver tray in one hand, carrying two cocktails. Both Ruby and I turn to look at her. She’s wearing a short black dress and high heels, with white shirt cuffs on her wrists, like bracelets. She looks like a Playboy bunny without the ears.