American Mutant

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American Mutant Page 13

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

“I told Claire about you Thomas, because she freaked a little when she saw me pull up in the Lincoln.” Nate leaned back and closed his eyes smiling.” You should have seen my son’s face.”

  “Did you tell them your ship had come in?”

  “Claire is agency, and agency people do not believe in ships coming in. I told her the truth. She does not believe half of it, but she wants to meet you.”

  “You know how crazy that would be.” Connor said seriously. “Even if I get everything straightened out with the Russian Mob, Pierre, and the Red Chinese, it will still be dicey getting together.”

  “I told her about the danger, but like I explained to you before, one of the reasons I married her was because she knows the score. Claire does not stand around all day wringing her hands at the doorstep, waiting for me.

  When we got married, she kissed me off as dead, and just enjoyed everything after as happiness on borrowed time.”

  “Even your son?”

  “Hey, you know fear and loss Thomas, better than anyone. We do not live anticipating loss, only preparing for it. After we get things calmed down a bit, I want all of us to get together, and so does she. We are brothers. We always will be. Don’t you want to meet the sister-in-law?”

  Connor laughed. “When you put it like that Nate, how can I refuse? You want to have dinner tonight with Karen and I after we get done fooling around?”

  “I would Thomas, but I have a Cub Scout meeting to host at my house, if you can believe that.”

  “Man, oh man,” Connor replied. “Just think, an assassin as a Boy Scout Troop Leader.”

  “Better than a Gay one.”

  “You have a point there my friend,” Connor admitted. “How in hell do you find the time for all of that? There must be camping and all kinds of stuff.”

  “Not much of that yet with the cub scouts, just a few outings together. It’s the t-ball that really takes up some time. If I want to make it to every game, I have to really bust my butt.”

  “Cub scouts, baseball, what next, marching band?”

  Nate laughed. “No, not yet, but eventually. Did you transfer all of Whitney’s accounts too?”

  “Yep, we are loaded my friend. Transferring money from the Swiss accounts I have set up gets tricky, but I have alerted Quenton about it, and he will run interference if I get any of our nosy government agencies poking around. We will have the budget of a small country soon.”

  “Where do I stick this cash Thomas?”

  Connor handed him a brown paper bag. “Put it in this Nate, until we get ourselves a couple of briefcases. Let’s get these other things to Derek.”

  “Lead the way Bwana.”

  “Grrrrrrrrrrr.”

  “Would you prefer ‘Great White Father’?”

  Connor sighed. “Some choice. You are lucky I like you.”

  “No, you are lucky I like you.”

  “No, you.”

  The two unlikely partners continued their banter on the way to Quenton’s office, where Derek looked on in amazement as the two continued trading insults on the way in. They sat down in front of Derek’s desk. Connor handed him a plastic bag with all of the written material, and tapes he had accumulated the night before.

  “Good morning Derek,” Thomas said brightly.

  “You and Nate here have a disagreement?”

  “No, I am trying to set down the guidelines for the modicum of respect I think Nate should show me in conversation.”

  Nate laughed in appreciation of the jibe. “You can forget it Bwana, I knew your ass when. I will treat you anyway I like.”

  Connor pointed at Nate, and gestured to Quenton. “You see Derek. I want you, as his supervisor, to order him to stop this disrespect.”

  Derek chuckled as he looked at the two cold-blooded killers in front of him. “Things went well last night Thomas?”

  “Very well Derek,” Connor replied seriously. “You will find everything you ever dreamed about knowing in reference to the Russian Mob in this area right there before you. The accounts of course no longer exist.”

  “Do you think you could come up with some money for our budget once in a while Thomas?” Quenton asked. “I would not have to get down on my knees then every time I get called in at budget time.”

  “You bet Derek. Just give me the department’s account number, and I will transfer discrete amounts whenever you need it.”

  “Great, I cannot tell you how much better that will make things. I suppose there will be a rather large body count from last night?”

  “And confusion,” Connor added. “Tonight I will have to make sure the Russians will not be regrouping. By tomorrow, I believe Nate and I will be working on more familiar problems.”

  “I will get to work on these items right away, and leave you two to pursue your business goals. Good luck.”

  “Derek, you realize the papers will be picking up on all of this carnage, right?” Nate asked.

  “Yes,” Quenton replied. “I realize there will be fallout from all of this, but it will all blow over. The attention span in Washington D.C. for gang killings will be short. The warehouse, I cleaned up, with the Director’s okay, and swept that whole thing under our rug.”

  “In that case Derek, we will see you later.” Connor got up, and left, with Nate giving Derek a little wave before following.

  Nate pulled the Lincoln into the parking lot of the first bank on Connor’s list. Connor now had a new bag they had bought on the way. “How the hell do you plan on getting into these safety deposit boxes Thomas? You do know there will be someone in there, who knows what this Starikova looks like, and that you need matching signatures.”

  Connor changed into Starikova right in front of Nate, and greeted him in Russian. Nate stared with his mouth open for a few seconds, and then handled it the way Connor remembered he handled most of everything he could neither understand nor do anything about: he laughed.

  “Whitney was most definitely right Thomas, you are indeed a mutant. What in the world has happened to you, and where have the aliens, you represent, put my friend?”

  “I told you there would be a few more items to get used to,” Connor added reasonably as he shrugged his shoulders.

  “Yea, you did say that, you little mutant prick. Don’t you ever spring anything like that on me again without warning.”

  “I’ll be back,” Connor said in a clone like imitation of Arnold Swartznegger’s line out of the Terminator movie as he stepped out of the car. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. A naked Kathy appeared next to Nate on the front seat.

  “Jesus H. Christ Palomino,” Nate yelled. “Connor, you mutant son-of-a-bitch!”

  Connor chuckled and let Kathy disappear. He bent down and waved at Nate, who gave him the universal gesture of displeasure. With his brand new bag, Connor walked into the bank, and over to the desk of one of the bank manager assistants.

  The man looked up at him and smiled. “Hello Mr. Starikova, what can I help you with today?”

  “I would like to get into my safety deposit box please.”

  “Of course Sir, just let me have your key, and I will get you signed in.” Connor handed him the key marked for this bank, and the man led him over to a locked, see-through paneled room. He went in and brought the sign-in ledger to the small opening in the panel, where people stood in line. Connor signed Starikova’s name, but the man barely glanced at it. He let Connor in to the outer room, and led the way into a vault with the rows of safety deposit boxes. After inserting his key into the lock, he put Staridova’s into the other lock. Withdrawing the lock box, he handed it to Connor, and led the way to a small closed off viewing room.

  Connor closed the door. He opened the box. He found twenty-five camcorder tapes, which were numbered. As he placed the tapes into his bag, he found a list of names corresponding to the tapes in a plastic bag. As soon as he had emptied the box, he exited the room and handed it to the man in the alcove. Fifteen minutes later, Connor eased into the Lincoln next to
Nate.

  “Hello Boris, how did it go?”

  “Very well Mr. Johnson. I retrieved twenty-five videotapes, numbered in relation to an accompanying list. The names on that list will give you the creeps. I cannot wait to see what might be on them.”

  “Shall we go on to the next bank Bwana, and see how much more trouble we can get into?”

  “You bet.”

  By one o’clock, they had sixty-five 8mm camcorder tapes, with accompanying lists that read like a who’s who in Washington D.C. “This information gathering can be very enlightening Mr. Connor.” Nate said as he looked over the lists. “What in the world do you want to do with this?”

  “Give it to Derek. Let him sort out people paying money from the ones paying in information. If he finds a target, we will decide whether to use the target or eliminate it. My first impulse.”

  “Do them all and let God sort them out?” Nate finished.

  Connor laughed. “God, it’s good to have you around Nate. No one understands how frustrating this selling out America gets. Derek probably comes the closest to the way we feel. I would rather trust this to him first.”

  “I agree. We need to get your business ideas up and running. With all the other junk about the Red Chinese and this slavery ring, I think you need to delegate some of this. Besides, Derek putting the right word in the right ear with this list, and I do not think anyone will ever screw around with us.”

  “You got it Nate. That way, I won’t see something on these tapes, and go out and do something hasty, like exterminate half of Washington. Karen says I have a control problem.”

  “Man, you are gettin’ whipped brother,” Nate ribbed him. “Next, you’ll be asking if you can go out and play. On the other hand, I better shut up about that, because I see the wheels of payback already grinding in your little mutant head. Forget I called you whipped. Karen probably has a point.”

  “You were very wise to lay off the whipped stuff there ‘Don’,” Connor said chuckling. “Yea, she has a point. Shall I call our Mr. Leary and see if he has the details worked out for us to acquire the business?”

  “Are we going to drive around with those tapes in my new car?” Nate asked.

  “What would be the life expectancy of anyone casting an evil eye towards your new Lincoln Nate, my friend?”

  “About fifteen seconds if I am sitting down, ten if I am already standing. I see your point my merry mutant. Make the call and tell him we are on our

  way.”

  “Better slow down there speedy,” Connor advised, “until I find out which bank we are meeting at. I wonder if it will be one of the ones we have already visited.”

  “At least we won’t get lost,” Nate pointed out.

  Chapter 14

  They Close The Deal and Sammy Gets Taken

  It took them the better part of the remaining business day to go over the accounts, transfer the money, and sign the necessary paperwork. Leary wisely did not bring up the Russian connection. Nate fielded the questions from Leary’s two lawyers, and handled the contracts with expertise. Connor knew Nate specialized in contract law, another of the paradoxes he enjoyed about his friend.

  Nate and Connor climbed into the Lincoln at the end of the afternoon with joint sighs of satisfaction. They were major property and business owners, with keys to the kingdom they hoped would bring a small amount of normalcy to their lives. Connor figured if Nate had wanted another direction without the danger, he would have pursued a law career long ago.

  They were partners when Nate received his degree. Connor asked him why an assassin would need a law degree. Nate had smiled at Connor benevolently and said, ‘to have something to fall back on, of course’. They laughed until the tears flowed at that line, Connor remembered. Nate helped his cohorts with questions, and law problems, whenever they gave him the chance. He passed the BAR exam on the first try, and began to make a little money on the side at his hobby.

  “You know Nate, maybe I should open a law office too. You could really hang your shingle for real then.”

  “It wouldn’t be fun then Thomas. I do it like the guy fixes an old Camaro on the weekend, just to fool around and get my hands dirty. Now, this new business, coupled with working with those young men; that, my friend, has the blood flowing again. Throw in Red Chinese espionage, slave rings, Russian Mobs, and traitorous government leaders,” Nate sighed again, “my cup runneth over.”

  “I saw the glint in your eyes when you moved on those Russians in the office. We won’t be doing that crap everyday if things get handled right. You won’t be walking out on me crying boredom in a few months will you?”

  Nate clasped his friend’s shoulder with a big right hand as he easily guided the Lincoln. “No way. We’re back together again to stay, even if you are a mutant. Now, shall we go see about hooking up our phone network, or have you had enough of the mundane matters of the business world?”

  “We better get hooked up today Nate. We meet the boys out in front of the Mall at 8 AM.”

  “You sure got generous with Leary, offering him a million dollars to handle the severance pay for his former workers. We could have used some help getting started you know.”

  “Hey,” Connor protested, “for all I know, one of those twits had the inside track for the Russians. I want my own people in there from the ground up. I already started the wheels turning on the chauffeur licenses for everyone except Jeffrey. We both know driving, and I know how to repair the beasts. In two weeks time, we will have those boys on the road making money. I figure we add another half dozen boys by the end of the month, and we will be floating. I don’t think we will luck out with six as good as the ones we have, but we can sort that out as we go.”

  “Are you going to let the boys bring in new applicants?”

  “Yep, and if they do not work out,” Connor replied, “whoever brought them in will be responsible for letting them go.”

  “Accountability too? I had no idea we were building ‘Utopia’ according to Ayne Rand.”

  “Just as close to it as we can come as measly humans and mutants,” Connor added.

  “What kind of network you want to pick up for our young men to

  ???

  “I’d like to set them up with those ones inserted into their ear, so I can talk to them at anytime,” Connor replied. “That, however, would be a little over the line.”

  “Ya think?” Nate said sarcastically.

  “We will settle for the company I researched off of the Internet.” Connor laughed as he pulled out a paper he had printed out earlier, and handed it to Nate.

  Nate looked over the address and then handed it back. “On your command Bwana.”

  As they left the phone store, Nate played with the buttons on his new direct link cell phone. “Did you have to get twelve of these things Thomas? You are showing bad business judgment not simply adding cells as we add employees.”

  “You mean bad like purchasing a new Lincoln Continental, when we were in the process of buying a limousine service,” Connor remarked sharply.

  “The Lincoln was an investment in the future,” Nate added defensively. “We needed to get around until the business papers were signed.”

  “That would make the Lincoln the most costly business dealing in recorded history.”

  Nate threw up his hands. “This is what I get for debating a mutant. I make a simple business comment, and suddenly I am debating the necessity of my signing bonus.”

  “Your signing bonus?” Connor laughed. “Well, now you have a cell phone to go along with it, and one button contact to me. Just make sure you do not say anything classified over the damn thing, or we will all be in trouble.”

  “Ya think?”

  “You have gotten awfully testy since becoming a businessman Nate. I am worried about you. The strain keeps surfacing, and you have not even worked in the business a day yet.”

  Nate stopped, straightened the vest of his tailor made three-piece suit, and looked haughtily down at Conn
or. “Thomas, you pathetic mutant, you do not know true happiness when you see it. I hope this strain you talk about keeps on coming, because I like everything about the last few days. I am anticipating an exciting business venture. Do you want me to come with you tonight for old times sake?”

  “No, I will handle that business. I want you to become the complete businessman. Leave the mutant matters to me.”

  Nate laughed. “You really like the mutant label, don’t you?”

  “I used to read the X-Men comic books. I liked Wolverine the best,” Connor explained.

  “You would pick the clawed freak out of all those characters. Maybe we should think of a name for you, since you want to be a superhero,” Nate offered.

  “Don’t do it Nate,” Connor warned as Nate rubbed his chin in concentration. “Just get in the car. I see those twisted thoughts of yours rambling around.”

  “I know, Bwana Bull.”

  “You know I can send naked Kathy home with you on the front seat of your pimp mobile. I can just see Claire’s face now.”

  Nate’s jaw dropped momentarily. “Do not go there Thomas. Do not even joke about something like that.”

  “It may take some concentration, but I believe I could pull it off,” Connor replied as he rubbed his chin in imitation of Nate.

  “You cold hearted, twisted mutant prick,” Nate said heatedly. “You know I was only kidding around. I.” Nate stopped as Connor had burst into laughter, pointing at his friend.

  “You should have seen your face Nate. One of the most dangerous assassins of all time, reduced to mush with a single image.”

  “You dirty .no good… rotten…” Nate stopped sputtering, and joined in the laughter, as he saw he was achieving nothing but breaking Connor up even more. Nate went around to the driver’s side of the Lincoln.

  “Down Nate,” Connor screamed suddenly.

  The many years in the field served Nate well as he dropped to the pavement without hesitation. A bullet struck the driver’s side window without damage, right where Nate had stood a moment before. Nate scrambled around the Lincoln, his Walther 9mm already in his hand as he scanned upwards. He looked over to see where Connor might be crouched, but could not spot him. No other shots rang out, but Nate stayed where he was. The shot had been from a silenced weapon. People walked by Nate, giving him a wide berth.

 

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