There was another lull as Oniel stepped back again, admiring his work as Purdue squirmed and trembled.
“I know that you love to talk, Mr. Yesterday. It is very annoying but now you have a chance. This is your chance. Talk. Now.”
It took a minute of shaking and stuttering but Purdue found his voice. He looked over at Oniel. “Must have been hard ... being tied up on that island with Alton's body right there. But ... but you and I both know that he deserved it. You know that. He was a terrible human being. A right bastard, that one.”
Oniel didn't show any reaction on his face but it was hard to tell since he usually looked so agitated anyway. His anger became apparent when he stepped forward and sent another shock through Purdue without any kind of prompt from the Wharf Man. He may not have shown it on his face, but Purdue could feel Oniel's rage all too well. He had obviously struck a nerve—but now Oniel was striking all of his in return.
The Wharf Man looked a little startled by Oniel's sudden attack but took advantage of it, like it was just another round of planned torture. “What did you do with the treasure? Where is it?!” The Wharf Man was shouting but all Purdue could really hear was his insides rattling from the charges running through him. He couldn't even close his eyes, they were held open by the pain.
Oniel backed off again and the Wharf Man repeated his question.
“What did you do with all of that treasure?” The Wharf Man waited until the volts seemed to have passed through Purdue before grabbing his chin hard. He pulled his face so they were looking directly at one another. “Where is it? All of that gold did not vanish in a puff of smoke, did it? No. It is somewhere. And you are the one who knows where.”
Purdue shook his head out of the Wharf Man's fingers. “You're ... you're wrong ... you're so wrong about that. I spent it all. It might not have vanished in a puff of smoke but it is really gone. Long gone.”
“You spent it all,” the Wharf Man repeated, letting the unconvincing claim hang in the air between them. “What? What could you have spent all of that on, hmm? What did you buy then? With all of that gold ... what could you use it all on?”
“Well...” Purdue took a breath to steady himself but his body still trembled. “I gave cuts to my crew since ... unlike when you were their boss ... I made sure they actually got their fair share for a job well done. And the rest ... I wasted it, I'm afraid. Old habits from my wealthier days got the better of me. So sorry.”
The Wharf Man grabbed Purdue's face again, squeezing it hard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I spent it all on all kinds of things. I got myself a couple of new homes, for one. If you recall, my last one burnt to the ground. I needed a place to sleep and some spares in case the next one burnt down too. And of course, those houses need cars. Nice cars can be a vice of mine, I'm afraid. Can never get enough. And then ... well ... I was rather lonely. So I may have spent some of it wooing some beautiful women—”
“Enough!” The Wharf Man boomed and stepped away. Oniel zapped Purdue again. It hurt again, but Purdue focused on the satisfaction of not giving them what they wanted. He relished upsetting the Wharf Man. That big baby needed to stop always getting what he wanted. They weren't in Jamaica, and Purdue wasn't just some criminal that the Wharf Man could control.
Everything he said was bullshit and the Wharf Man didn't look remotely fooled by his explanations. “You are a bad liar, Mr. Yesterday.”
“You think so?” Purdue laughed through his chattering teeth.
The Wharf Man stepped closer so his wide face nearly filled Purdue's entire view. “I do. You think I am a fool but you could not be more wrong. I also have a very, very good memory.” He tapped the side of his bald head with his pudgy index finger. “I do not forget. Not ever. I remember why you wanted that treasure. You wanted to take back the things that were stolen from you. Yes, that's right, you wanted money for revenge. You expect me to believe that you wasted all of that? That you forgot about that redemption you were talking all about. I am not convinced. Not a little. This is going to be painful for you either way, but if you tell me what I want, it can be quicker.”
A smaller man entered the warehouse and rushed to the Wharf Man.
“There is someone here to see you.”
“Who?” The Wharf Man barked, not averting his gaze from Purdue. “You can tell whoever it is that I am busy at the moment.”
“It is a man who says that he wants the prisoner.”
The Wharf Man glared at Purdue and then stepped toward the messenger. “He wants David Purdue ... he said that name?”
“Yes,” the man said.
“Did he say why?”
“He was talking about a black sun and things like that. I did not fully understand.”
A shock went through Purdue but it wasn't from the torture this time. The Order of the Black Sun was here. They were coming for him ... which meant they knew he was alive. And here he was, unprepared, chained up, and entirely helpless against them. There wouldn't be any retribution after all, despite the plans he had. He wouldn't find redemption. They would beat him down again before he even ever had a chance to hit them back.
But how the hell did they find him? He was so careful.
The man who wanted the audience with the Wharf Man might even be Julian Corvus. As horrible as it was to be captured by the Wharf Man and his gang, they were nothing compared to the Order of the Black Sun. He would be wishing he was still being electrocuted if the Black Sun got their hands on him.
The Wharf Man looked back to his prisoner. “Someone who wants you, hmm? Black Sun. These are the people who took your things, no?”
Purdue didn't answer, which was a good enough answer for the Wharf Man. A sick smile rolled across his plump face. He welcomed anything that would make Purdue hurt more. “Send him in then! Yes! Bring him in here right now!”
Purdue stared at the door of the warehouse, waiting for the Black Sun member to come in. Worst case scenario ... it would be Julian himself. The most dangerous man Julian had ever met. A psychopath who not even death itself had seemed able to stop.
Then again, it could be Galen Fitzgerald. He would love to see Purdue so helpless. He didn't really want to hear that Irishman's smug laughter though. He wasn't in the mood to deal with someone so unbearably petty.
Or it could be someone new, just another enemy for Purdue to loath.
There were footsteps and a man stepped through the door.
“It's a pleasure to meet you. The stories of the Wharf Man are quite infamous.” Purdue recognized the man immediately. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Julian Corvus.”
The man in the door was certainly familiar ... but it wasn't Julian.
It was Sam.
He may have been dressed in a fine suit and tie and cleaned himself up, but it was undeniably Sam.
Purdue felt a surge of relief run through his body but he couldn't let it show. This wasn't a new painful development after all. This wasn't more bad luck. This wasn't taking a step closer to being killed. This was a rescue.
“They tell me you want my prisoner,” the Wharf Man said defensively.
“That I do,” Sam said, doing his best to mimic Julian's quiet intimidation. Every word had to be precise and laced with threats. “You must not have heard. David Purdue was our prisoner first.”
“You did not do a great job then, hmm? He said you tried to kill him ... so it looks like you did not do that right either.” The Wharf Man spat on the floor and laughed. “He is ours now. He took things from me. You lost him. We found him. Your claim means nothing to me.”
Sam was obviously a little shaken but kept his composure enough to stay in character. Though the real Julian Corvus probably would have killed all the Wharf Man's men by now just to make a point. They had no idea how lucky they were that they were dealing with an imposter. Otherwise, they would all be dead.
“Surely we could come to some kind of arrangement. The people I work with ... the order I represent ... we hav
e vast resources and quite a long reach. We could give you whatever you want for him.”
The Wharf Man ground his teeth. “What I want ... what I want is for him to tell me where his crew is and what he did with the gold that is rightfully mine. And after he tells me that, I want his head. That is what I want and you cannot give me those.”
“Maybe not,” Sam said, flashing a nervous glance at Purdue. “But not cooperating with my organization is not something I would recommend.”
The Wharf Man clicked his tongue, obviously not happy with the implication. “Getting in the way of my business is not something I would recommend either. And that sounded like a threat to me, hmm?”
The Wharf Man took a step toward Sam. He could probably squash Sam if he really wanted to. Sam tried to stand his ground but it was hard to look strong against a wall of a man. He wouldn't stand a chance if this got ugly.
Sam was bold to try and threaten the crime lord, especially since he didn't actually have the backing of the Order of the Black Sun like he was pretending to have. He wasn't powerful like the real Julian Corvus. He might have been able to fake Julian's name and even his attitude but he couldn't fake his resources. Imitation had its limits.
Sam tried to stand tall, despite things not going as hoped. “I am not leaving without David Purdue.”
“Yes you are,” the Wharf Man growled. “Or you are leaving in tiny pieces, small enough that we can send a piece to each member of whatever this Black Sun is. How does that sound? Does that sound good to you?”
Purdue wanted to yell at Sam to leave before he got himself killed.
“There must be a price,” Sam said unsteadily.
“I have told you my price and you cannot pay it.” The Wharf Man cracked his knuckles.
“Whatever that treasure he stole was worth, we could match it.”
The Wharf Man's beady eyes widened in surprise as he seemed to be considering it for a moment and his expression softened. “But why would we just hand him over to a stranger, hmm? If we were to give this little thief away, and that is a big if, then it would have to be for even more than what he took from me. Anything less would be charity.”
Sam straightened his tie like he was trying to look proper and powerful. “Name your price.”
“Nine-hundred million, as a start. And then half that every year. A donation from your people to mine year after year.” It was an outlandish offer, but it was the one on the table.
Sam took a breath, knowing that he didn't have that kind of money or even any say in the Black Sun at all. Still, he tried to keep calm and look like that was nothing more than pocket change. “That is quite a price. Is David Purdue really worth that much anymore? My order took away all of his money. Everything he had of value. He's practically nothing these days.”
Purdue tried to not feel offended.
“He is worth that much to me,” the Wharf Man said, folding his broad arms. “I have been looking for him for a long time now. It would not be cheap to take him away. That is my price, my final offer, and you would need to pay it now.”
“Now?”
“Why not?” the Wharf Man sneered. “You and your group have all of this power. You said so. You can pay me now if you are as powerful as you say.”
Sam glanced at Purdue and it was clearly dawning on him how futile this rescue attempt was going to be. It might be making things even worse. Posing as an intimidating force was smart to try to force the Wharf Man's hand but it clearly wasn't panning out the way Sam wanted. He could lather on all of the threat and bravado of the real Julian Corvus, but it didn't matter to the Wharf Man.
Even if it was the real Julian, the Wharf Man would never submit to him, so he was never going to submit to someone with no actual substance to back up his claims.
Oniel suddenly made some gestures with his hands at the Wharf Man, displaying sign language. The Wharf Man watched the hands closely and then looked from Purdue to the supposed Julian Corvus. His face twisted into a wide, open-mouthed smile.
“Good eye, Oniel. Very good eye.” The Wharf Man took another step toward Sam, but it came down hard like a stomp. Sam looked past him at Oniel whose hollow stare was bearing into him, like he could see straight through this whole facade, right to the real man behind this act. “Oniel here ... he can't speak ... but it does make him very good at listening and very good at looking. And he sees something that I have not been seeing.”
The Wharf Man turned back toward where Purdue was suspended. “It is strange, isn't it? This man and his people took everything from you. You told me so when we first met. He and his friends ruined you, no? That is why you came to me looking for pirate gold ... but here they are. They have found you. The Black Sun is right here ... so tell me, Mr. Yesterday, why are you not afraid?”
Purdue cursed himself internally. He had let himself seem too comfortable once he realized it was just Sam. He should have appeared far more nervous than he was. Damn Oniel for having noticed that. That mistake could get both him and now Sam killed.
Purdue chose his words carefully. He couldn't crack, no matter how closely the Wharf Man was encircling the truth. “There's not much that really scares me. Especially not a bunch of mad bastards like you lot.”
“No.” The Wharf Man wagged his fat finger. “No that is not it, is it? No. You two do not look at each other like enemies. Do they, Oniel?”
Oniel gave a firm shake of his head.
“You should be sweating ... but you were more nervous about Oniel and I than you were being found by the people who destroyed your life.”
The Wharf Man turned his attention back to Sam. Sam was trying to strand straight and confident but his impersonation of Julian Corvus was crumbling away rapidly. He was losing that quiet intimidation. He was losing the pompousness and the self-assurance. It was becoming very visible that he didn't really have the power of a secret society at his disposal. All of his claims were coming apart at the seams.
Oniel had seen that—and now he helped the Wharf Man see clearly too.
The Wharf Man moved closer, until his big face was inches away from Sam's. “You are not the Order of the Black Sun, are you?”
Sam scoffed but beads of sweat were rolling along his brow. “What? What are you going on about? I am—”
“No you are not. This is some kind of rescue, hmm?” The Wharf Man craned his head to where Purdue was chained up. “Tell me, Mr. Yesterday ... do you feel rescued?”
The jig was up. Purdue looked to Sam who was staring at him apologetically. He looked so guilty but there was nothing to be sorry for. He had given it a good try, a commendable one even. It really seemed like it could work at first. Unfortunately they weren't dealing with overly gullible criminals. Oniel especially was far more observant and intelligent than Purdue had ever given him credit for. He wasn't just a lunatic with blood lust on his mind. He was much more than that.
Sam retreated a step, holding his hands out defensively and stammering, trying to desperately recover and put his ploy back together. It was far too late for that and it was no use. They would have to fight their way out of this. Given that Purdue was bound by chains and they were up against seasoned killers, the odds weren't looking like they were in their favor. In fact, those odds were looking very, very bad.
The Wharf Man was going to end them.
A plume of smoke suddenly erupted into the room, blanketing everyone in darkness. Strangely, it wasn't the usual kind of smoke that would force its way into your lungs and suffocated you. It was something else, like a cloud of pure darkness.
Purdue couldn't see a damn thing but he felt hands grab hold of him and felt a snap as the chains binding his wrists plopped to the floor. There was yelling. Mostly the Wharf Man barking orders for his men to fix this newfound problem.
“Hurry,” a voice said beside Purdue as he felt hands pushing against his back and guiding him through the shroud of blackness.
Purdue emerged out of the warehouse into the sunlight, already being pus
hed into something of a sprint. They were by the water, and he realized the warehouse was stationed by a pier, probably some holding, shipping place.
Aya was beside him, smirking. Barely had time to process what had just happened, or even his current surroundings as they ran away from the warehouse before the Wharf Man and his men got out of the smoke. Sam was close behind them, looking ridiculously dressed running so fast in a business suit.
It took a minute for Purdue to notice the book of shadows tucked under Aya's arm.
“What did I say about that book?” Purdue asked through exasperated breaths.
“You said not to touch it,” Aya said, looking a little guilty.
“Aye, that was it. But let's add a note that you can touch the book as long as you're using it to save my ass.”
“I accept that,” Aya said, glancing back nervously, looking for any possible pursuers. “The ship is ready to leave. The Challenger is loaded on and they say it is ready for the dive.”
“Brilliant,” Purdue said. He took his own look back to make sure they weren't being followed. “The quicker we get away from the Wharf Man, the better.”
“He seemed like a nice guy,” Sam said sarcastically as he ran beside them. “How did you end up as business partners again?”
“Desperation,” Purdue admitted. “Simple as that. My life was in ruins. The world thought I was dead. It seemed like a great idea at the time.”
“I bet it did.” Sam pulled his tie over his head. “Until they tried to kill you.”
“Aye, that seemed like the natural place to cut ties with them. But at least I found some real friends during that, right, Aya?”
Aya rolled her eyes. “I wonder every day if I made a good choice. The Wharf Man never gives up trying to squash people who go against him.”
“You don't say,” Sam said under his breath.
“He's still not very happy with you and the crew,” Purdue said. “Kept asking me where you were.”
“I was a lot closer than he thought,” Aya said with some satisfaction.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 10 Page 6
