Stormcrow: Book Two: Birds of a Feather

by N. C. Reed

  “Roberto will have no say in this or any other matter concerning this family from now forward,” his father informed him calmly. Tony hesitated at that.

  “Ah, that sounds a lot like you're getting rid of him, pop,” he finally chose to say.

  “Indeed,” his father nodded.

  “Seriously?” Tony's eyes widened just as there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for a reply the door opened and Antonia stepped inside. She kissed her son's forehead and then moved to do the same to her husband, remaining by his side.

  “I was explaining to our son about Roberto,” Jerome told her.

  “I see,” she nodded gravely. “Perhaps it would be better if he heard this,” she handed him the chip. Jerome looked at it, then to his wife.

  “Do I want to hear this?” he asked carefully.

  “No, but you will need to nonetheless,” she replied. “It will be good for Antonio to hear it as well. In fact I deem it a necessity that he listen,” she added.

  For the third time that day, members of the Delgado family would hear one of their own betray them in a most heinous way.

  -

  “I wonder where they are?” Meredith said as she and Lincoln prepared for bed.

  “Mere, they're both grown men and they had something going,” Lincoln reasoned. “And we're stuck here for at least a week. Whatever you're wanting to get done, I'm sure they'll get to it. They've never let us down yet,” he reminded her.

  Meredith had to agree that was true but. . .one of her greatest failings was that she wanted to always know what was going on. It sprang she was sure from her days commanding a warship in the Commonwealth Navy, where it was vital that she know her ship and crew from tip to tail. Though gone now from the Navy for over five years, a lifetime of training and experience was hard to surrender regardless of time passed.

  I'm not nosy, she thought to herself. I'm not. It's just important that I know where my crew is and what they're into. That's all.

  Having mollified herself with that, she crawled into bed and snuggled up to her husband, who carefully laid his new glasses alongside on the small stand.

  “Glasses,” he shook his head slowly.

  “Yes, Lincoln,” she sighed yet again. “Glasses.

  -

  “I. . .” Tony tried to speak, but couldn't find anything. His friends aboard the Celia would not have known what to say about his being speechless. Tony was never at a loss for words.

  The glass in Jerome Delgado's hand suddenly shattered under his grip, his anger seething to the point that it was like a pressure wave in the room. Seeing blood on his hands, Antonia moved wordlessly to retrieve a small first aid kit and called for Marisa to bring her water and a towel. The other woman was there in three minutes, careful to set the dish on the desk and then depart.

  Antonia worked to clean up the small mess after cleaning and bandaging her husband's hand. She would have the floor cleaned once they were out of the room.

  “I should go and talk to him about this,” Tony said finally, managing to get the words out over his own crushing anger.

  “That will not be necessary,” his mother informed him. “I have taken responsibility for this and have taken the necessary steps to see that it is corrected.”

  Always the convoluted way. Saying it without saying. Her voice was completely absent of any feeling like anger, or remorse.

  “What have you done?” Tony asked.

  “Antonio, your brother must be dealt with,” she told him flatly. “He has brought shame upon us. Upon me,” she stressed. “There must be a reckoning. The blood of my people calls for it and it must be. Roberto will answer for all that he has done.”

  “Answer how?” he asked warily. He was seeing a side of his mother than he hadn't seen before to his memory. It was a bit intimidating to be honest. Almost like she was channeling Sean, in fact.

  “With his life,” was the simply reply. “Blood of this tr-family has been shed at his order and instigation. Atop that he has worked to undermine your father, and his actions have brought further shame upon us by associating the Delgado name with activities that we had long since divested ourselves of thanks to your father's influence. It was a long and bitter battle to rid ourselves of those practices, requiring many sacrifices and not a little blood. Roberto has spit upon those sacrifices by immersing our name into those practices once more. I will not allow that, nor will I allow it to go unpunished.”

  “Nor can his challenge to your father's rule to go without answer.”

  Tony didn't know what to say. He'd never heard his mother speak like this. And she had just announced that she had condemned her oldest son, her first born child, to death for his actions against the family. He almost recoiled as his mother's blue eyes turned on him, shining with a simmering rage that he had missed earlier, as if it had been camouflaged by her calm demeanor.

  “Ah,” Tony tried to come up with something but failed.

  “It is not for you to concern yourself with, my son,” her voice softened considerably as she addressed him. “Your brother is treacherous. He sought to take by slight of hand that which he could not earn by merit. He would have sacrificed your sister, just as he did Elena and the others, for his own foolish and selfish agenda. This family could no more allow his ruinous rule than I intend to allow him to get away with what he has done.”

  Again, there was that flat and final declaration. He realized that his father had been silent through all this, staring out the window into the yard. A fountain, lighted from beneath the water in the darkness of night, was visible from where he sat and he watched the blue shaded water falling peacefully without speaking. That too was new. It had always been his father who ran things. At least so far as Tony knew.

  “Your mother said she would deal with this,” Jerome said, as if he could hear Tony's thoughts and feel his stare. “Her heritage is such that she cannot tolerate betrayal in any fashion, not even from her own,” he added, his voice laced with both pride and satisfaction. He turned finally to look at Tony.

  “I hope, my son, when the time comes for you to take a wife that you will be as fortunate in your choice as I was in mine,” he said softly as Antonia took his large hand in her own. “She is truly a magnificent woman that I have been privileged to spend my life with.”

  “Your father is emotional,” Antonia said with a slight grin. “He will recover in a few moments and return to normal.”

  “Ah, yeah,” Tony nodded. “I'm sure.”

  “That was mean of you, my wife,” Jerome's eyes crinkled at the corners, the only sign of his amusement. She patted his hand fondly.

  “So, uh, what is. . .I mean, I can still take care of it for you,” Tony offered.

  “As I said, I have already seen to it,” Antonia shook her head. “It so happened that a distant kinsman of mine was visiting at the moment and has agreed to undertake this task for me to restore my honor. He will see to it that things are set right, my son. Do not concern yourself with this matter further.”

  “Really?” Tony's interest heightened at that. He'd never met anyone from his mother's family before. He had allowed himself to believe she had none. “Can I meet him?”

  “Perhaps,” she smiled beautifully. “We shall see. In the meanwhile. . .” she paused as the door flew open and Lucia, now showered, changed and wearing fresh bandages on her wrists and ankles, stood in the doorway.

  “I. . .I don't want to be by myself,” she told them.

  “The house is full of people, mi bambina,” Antonia promised her, moving to take her daughter in her arms. “You are safe, I promise you.”

  “I. . .I don't want to be with them,” she shook her head even as her mother cradled her. “I want to be with you. With my family.” She raised her head and looked at Tony, flushing a bit.

  “I wouldn't mind it if Galen were here, of course,” she tried to make it sound as if she were doing Tony a favor, but no one was fooled.

  “I'm afraid Mister Galen has alrea
dy departed for the evening my dear,” her mother told her. “I'm sure you will see him tomorrow.”

  “Sean left?” Tony frowned, standing. “I. . .I told him to stay! To use the guest room!”

  “He had something he had to attend to, Antonio,” his mother looked at him. “He will return when it is finished.”

  “But I-” Tony started, then abruptly stopped. His eyes narrowed as he realized what his mother was saying.

  “Are you telling me that Sean is-”

  “It is a rather long story that I have no intention of telling tonight,” his mother's voice was firm, indicating that there would therefore be no discussion tonight. “I will share it with you tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, but tonight we will simply support your sister.” Her look added emphasis to her 'order'. She meant to be obeyed in this.

  Sean had to be the kinsman she was talking about. Tony couldn't see any way for this massive coincidence. Somehow, someway or another, Sean Galen was related to his mother.

  And was even now on his way to kill her oldest son.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  -

  Roberto Delgado reclined on the bed of the hotel room he had rented and considered his options, such as they were. They were limited, but he did have them.

  Roberto was, as his mother had noted, intelligent to a degree. While not nearly as sharp as he had imagined, he was smart enough to plan for failure. He had resources enough and to spare to escape San Lucia and set himself up somewhere else, far from his vengeful family and under an assumed name. Money, documents, identification, everything he needed to live a quiet and comfortable life somewhere along the near rim perhaps, or even at the edge of the Mid-terior as it was called. Somewhere that he could still access the better things if not the finer ones, yet be distant from the arm of the Delgado family. He knew firsthand how far his father's reach extended.

  It would take getting used to he acknowledged, not being a Delgado. Roberto had rode the coattails of his father and ancestors all his life, depending on the threat of his family to allow him to get away even with murder at times. But now he was stripped of that protection, which meant that enemies he had made over the years would now be looking to make things even, no longer held in check by fear of reprisal from the Old Man.

  His mother's reaction to the death of Lucia's governess, what was her name? Elena? Something like that. Anyway; Antonia's reaction to her death had caught Roberto by surprise. She had seemed to treat the death of the governess and the guards as if they were members of the family. How did someone as smart as his mother not see them for what they were? They were tools, nothing more. Tools to be used by the Delgado family for their own desires and ends.

  Of course, that Falcone witch had upset his apple cart as well by threatening to cut Lucia into pieces and ship her home one of those pieces at a time. Had she not done that then his mother and father might have listened to him and his plans would not have fallen apart.

  He had enlisted the woman because she had an old hate for his father and grandfather. Thinking this would motivate the woman to do as he asked so as to hurt Jerome Delgado, it had never entered his mind that she might turn the tables on him and use his sister as a means to revenge rather than as a lever of control against his father. In that his intelligence, had failed him, but even that he blamed on her rather than himself.

  If people would only listen! He knew what it took to get things done! Why could no one see that?

  His mother had been angry at some of the business decisions he had made, but could she not see that leaving those ventures had cut into their finances? Yes, the Delgado family had no real need of the money. In truth in would be several generations before anyone had to actually earn any money even if they stopped earning anything right now, but that wasn't the point! The money was there, so why not take it!

  Perhaps some of the things were distasteful, but it wasn't as if he was doing these things himself. He had underlings for that.

  Had being the operative word at the moment. He sighed as his thinking came full circle, leaving him where he had started. Cut off from those underlings and his other resources. All he had now was what he had put away in case of an emergency just like this. Roberto had no friends or even comrades to call upon in his time of need because he'd never cultivated any. He had used the people in his father's organization assuming they would always be there, never once befriending any of them nor even granting favors that might make them willing to help him now in his own time of need. He had never seen the need.

  Now, when it was far too late, he could see that need. The need to gather his own people, to create his own network, his own organization. If he'd done that then perhaps he could use this opportunity to take on his father, and if need be his mother, and best them in the open for all to see. Many people would support his rise to power he was sure, as he was the eldest. Typically, it was the oldest who assumed the role of head of the family.

  But his mother had made it clear that role was lost to him now. She had somehow uncovered his 'dealings', and had used them to ensure that her favored one, Antonio, would likely sit in their father's chair one day. She had always loved Antonio more, hadn't she?

  Was it because he was named for her? Or perhaps because they shared a birthday? How rare was it for a baby to be born on his mother's birthday, he wondered suddenly. Luka would know, he decided. Little Luka, the absent-minded professor. A genius with numbers and an idiot with everything else. Another disappointment to the family, Luka. Weak, meek, and a little dizzy at times when working, he doubted Luka would even realize anything had happened. He would notice Roberto missing at Christmas or Easter in the next three or four years and ask where he was. Maybe. If it wasn't numeric, Luka didn't always note it.

  Which meant Luka would never rule. He couldn't, in fact. He simply wasn't able. And Lucia? She couldn't manage to dress herself without that woman, Elanor or something, to help her. Always chasing after the latest 'fashions' or 'shoes' or whatever else caught her eye. Never once working a day of her life for anything that would further the family's interest.

  Which left Antonio. Roberto knew in his heart that his mother had always intended for Antonio to inherit control of the family and now she had managed to make it happen. What made a mother love one child over another? he wondered to himself. What was it that had made Antonia look at her second son and love him more than the first? She had never bothered to try and hide it, either. Look at how she had greeted him when he came waltzing into the house that very morning.

  Was that just this morning? Seems like a year or more.

  She had embraced him at once, called him her baby boy. She didn't do that for him. None of that for Roberto. No, for Roberto there is only condemnation. For Roberto, there is a meeting in the office where she takes great delight in pointing out any failures, castigating any actions and finally stripping him of his rightful place as the Delgado heir. Cutting him off from the family and their resources completely.

  Roberto was suddenly gripped by an all-consuming rage. He grabbed the lamp sitting by his bed and yanked it from the table, hurling it across the room into the mirror.

  Great, he thought to himself as he flopped onto the bed. Seven years’ bad luck. That's all I need right now.

  -

  “Here ought be fine,” Sean said to the driver, a dark haired woman with equally dark eyes. She was attractive beneath her business look though she tried to hide it he noticed. A severe ponytail pulled high behind her head, a muscular build that her height disguised by making her look thin, she appeared relaxed but was anything but. Former military, probably. She was carrying at least three handguns, Sean had noted.

  “You sure?” she asked, looking at the street. “Middle of no and where right here.” She was not aware of his mission, just that he needed a ride. “This isn't exactly the best part of town either,” she added.

  “I'll be fine,” he told her. “Thanks for the lift.”

  “Any time.” The door closed and the
car departed. Sean made sure it was out of sight returning the way it had come before he started walking.

  His target was just over a mile distant.

  Target. How long since he'd thought of someone as a target? How long since he'd lived this kind of life at all? Six years? Five? Or was it seven? He honestly wasn't sure. He'd never bothered to keep up with the time. He went, he did, he returned. That was all that mattered.

  On the ship, he did his job, he interacted with the crew, he slept, he started over. It was a nice, safe, normal routine. One that kept him from sliding over the edge and back into something he wasn't sure he could stop again once it started.

  He had almost reached that point with Faulks and the Captain. Between Faulks' mouthing and the Captain's prying and demands, he had almost snapped and killed the lot of them. There were still moments when he wished he had killed Faulks, and perhaps the Captain too. Of course if he had, then he'd have had to kill Lincoln and in spite of everything Sean liked Lincoln.

  Then there was the girl. Who or what was she? That was the question that he, Lincoln and Tony had been asking for months now. She was odd, that was for sure. No, she was an oddity. Jess herself wasn't odd. She looked and acted normal. Well, most of the time she acted normal. Her 'programming', if that was the right word, kicked in at odd times perhaps, but always when she was under pressure that she couldn't seem to escape from or in response to a direct attack.

  Or in defense of someone close to her, he added to himself, recalling that it was the threat of the arrest of himself and Tony on Hartley Station that had set her in motion the first time, revealing that she somehow knew how to pilot and navigate a star ship.

  Enough, he told himself, realizing he had been wool gathering for some time. The hotel that Roberto was staying in was facing him diagonally across the intersection he had stopped at. He stepped into a store alcove, the store closed for the evening. A glance around confirmed that no cameras were watching him in this part of town. He used a small set of viewers to scan the hotel.