"But back to Dragovic. His customers are committing crimes because of what he's selling them."
"And going to jail for them." Jack finished his coffee and stood. "As for me, I believe I've seen enough of Dr. Monnet and Mr. Dragovic for a long time."
"But it's not finished."
Jack sighed. "Yeah, it is. You wanted to know the connection between Dragovic and Monnet. It's this drug. You wanted to know what Dragovic has over Monnet: nothing. They're in this together, as in partners."
"I can't believe that."
"Monnet's the guy who discovered the stuff, he's the guy who's testing the stuff, and if you take a trip out the GEM plant in Brooklyn I bet you find he's manufacturing the stuff. Be objective for just two seconds, Doc, and there's no other conclusion."
Nadia half sat, half leaned on the desk and stared at the floor, saying nothing. Jack didn't like the job of telling her that her hero had clay tootsies, especially with her fiance missing…
"Tell you what, though," he said. "I'll ask around, see who's been boosting in the DUMBO area, and find out if anybody knows anything about Sunday night."
She looked up and smiled for the first time since he'd arrived. "Will you? I'd really appreciate it."
Jack left her with at least a little hope. He emerged onto Seventeenth Street with the morning sun warming the air and the traffic back full force after the holiday. Had the rest of the day pretty much to himself. So why not drop in on Gia? Vicky would be off to school by now. That meant they'd have the house to themselves.
Yeah.
Started walking east. Passing Stuyvesant Square he wondered if its heavy-duty spear-topped wrought-iron fence was meant to keep people out or in. Came to a cluster of medical buildings and wove through a throng of people in white coats with stethoscopes draped around their necks like feather boas. Why wear them out on the street?
Wassamatta? he thought. Afraid someone won't know you're a doctor? His irritation surprised him.
Hung a left onto First Avenue when he reached the faded brick slabs of Stuyvesant Village. Gia was about forty blocks uptown from here. A cab would be faster but he decided to walk it. Felt so full of energy—Nadia's coffee must have been superstrong—he'd be there in no time.
He was a good walker, had a stride that ate up distance. Strode up the east side of the avenue—one long strip mall—until he reached the Bellevue-NYU medical complex where every damn building seemed to be named after someone. That annoyed the hell out of him for some reason.
After he passed through the shadow of the brooding hulk of the Con Ed power plant, the street opened up into the UN Plaza with its big Secretariat building looking like something out of 2001, towering over the sway-backed block of the General Assembly.
Jack remembered posing as a tourist in there last summer while following one of the Indian diplomats all over town. What a load of bullshit he'd had to suffer through while waiting for Kusum to leave. Tempted to make a detour right now, stop in there this very minute and tell them how to get their act together. First thing he'd have them do was move the big tombstone of the Secretariat, maybe lay it on its side so it didn't block the morning sun when he was walking by, or at the very least cut a hole in its center to let some light through.
Later. Maybe he'd straighten them out this afternoon. Right now he felt too damn good to waste even a second of this beautiful morning on those jerks.
But the flags—all these goddamn flags really bothered him. Rows of flags, blocks of flags, flags everywhere, wasting enough fabric to clothe most of Bangladesh. Reached into his pocket and grabbed his knife. Had a big-time urge to run up to those poles and start cutting the ropes—free the flags!
But no… take too long. Especially with Gia home alone. She was waiting for him, he knew. Jack was sure she could feel his approach, his growing proximity.
Moved on, passing a statue of Saint George killing some stupid-looking dragon on the other side of the fence, and there in the bushes, was that an elephant, a brown elephant? And then it was all blending together and then reversing direction and he felt like he was coming apart, pieces of him floating away, sailing into the air and then curving and boomeranging back to reassemble and fuse into something new and wonderful, the new Jack, King of the City.
After all, wasn't it known as New Jack City?
Energy bloomed in him as he picked up his pace. No matter that it was uphill all the way, he was strong, stronger, strongest. Came to Fifty-fourth and cut east one more block to Sutton Place South where he had a beautiful view of the sparkling East River. God, he loved this city, his city. Hadn't been born here, but that was OK. Meant he wasn't here by some accident of nature but here by choice. He'd come here and made it his own, explored every nook and cranny, knew highborn and low and every sort between. Owned this city, man, and no one was going to tell him any different.
Gia knew that, and that was why she loved him. And he loved her because she knew that.
Wait…
Jack shook his head. Did that make sense?
Sure it did. Of course it did. Wouldn't have thought it if it didn't.
Breaking a light sweat, heavier in the small of his back where the Glock 19 rested in its nylon holster, and more around his ankle where he'd strapped the Semmerling, but he needed those guns, needed them because there were people in his city, not many but always a few, who might try to take the city away from him and make it their own, so he had to be vigilant, ever vigilant.
But not today, no worry about that today, because it was all his today and he felt great. Laughed aloud.
"Top o' da world, Ma!"
Guy coming the other way gave him a strange look but Jack glared at him, daring him to say something, anything, to say one single goddamn word. Guy looked away.
Smart. Nobody gives me looks in my city.
Felt a growing pressure in his groin as he turned into Sutton Square. Something flitted through his head, a thought about looking out for a car, a car with two men, but it was a slippery thought and avoided his grasp every time he reached for it.
Who cared about cars anyway. All he cared about now was getting to Gia. Gia-Gia-Gia. Oh, this was going to be good, so very-very good. Do it in the kitchen, do it in the living room, and maybe even in bed. Dodo-do. All day, and all afternoon until Vicky came home. Then he'd take them both out on the town, his town, and show them a great time, the best time of their lives, the kind of time only he could show them.
Knocked on the door. Couldn't wait to see the joy beaming from Gia's face when she pulled it open and saw him, joy that would quickly turn to lust. And then he heard a child's voice, Vicky's, shouting on the far side of the door…
"Mom! It's Jack! Jack's here!"
And suddenly a cloud moved over his sun and sucked all the heat from his body.
Vicky was home. Gia wouldn't… she'd never… not with Vicky around.
"Jack!" Gia said, her smile bright as she opened the door. "What a surprise!"
"Yeah," he said through his teeth. Tried to force a smile but couldn't, just couldn't. Could do just about anything in this city of his, but right now he couldn't smile. Stepped through the door. "Some surprise."
"Hi, Jack!" Vicky said, looking up at him with a big happy stupid grin.
Ignored her and turned to Gia. "What's she doing home?"
"She's got a sore throat and a cough." Gia's smile was gone and she was looking at him strangely.
"Doesn't look sick."
"Yeah, I got a bad cough," Vicky said. "Wanna hear it?" She started hacking.
Jack wanted to belt her—one backhand swipe to knock her into the next room. She was ruining everything. Maybe he ought to just grab Gia right here and do it in the foyer, right in front of Vicky. Be a good lesson for her.
"Is something wrong, Jack?" Gia said, concern growing in her eyes as she stared at him.
"Wrong?" he said, feeling fury building like a thunderhead in his skull. "Yeah, there's plenty wrong. First off, you coddle this kid too much�
�"
"Jack!"
"Don't interrupt me!" he said, his voice rising. "I hate to be interrupted."
"Jack, what on earth's wrong with you?"
There, she'd done it again. Interrupted him. She'd never learn, would she. Only one way to handle someone like that.
He balled a fist and raised his arm—
"Jack!"
The terror in Gia's eyes as she cringed away hit him like a kick in the gut, a bucket of ice water in the face…
What am I doing? What's happening to me? Jeez, I was just about to punch Gia. What—?
And then in a flash of clarity Jack knew, and the realization struck like a knife through his skull.
Somehow, someway, he'd been dosed with Berzerk. The when and the where didn't matter right now. First thing he had to do was get out of here. Couldn't be with anybody, especially not Gia and Vicky.
Get… out!
Fighting panic, he turned toward the door. Remembered his guns—had to dump them. Mix a 9mm and a .45 with a snootful of Berzerk and a lot of people could wind up dead. Reached under the back of his T-shirt and pulled the Glock from its SOB holster, then ripped the Semmerling, leather straps and all, from his ankle. Shoved them into Gia's hands, then added his knife… and his wallet.
Immediately something made him want to snatch them back, pushed him to reach for them. What—was he crazy, giving his money and beloved weapons to this woman?
Forced himself to step back, to grit out words, "Something's wrong. Take these. Gotta go. Explain later."
She stared at him wide-eyed with fright and confusion. "What—?"
Didn't dare risk another word, another second here. Hanging onto control by his fingertips, could feel it wriggling away from him. Could maintain this grip only so long before it slipped away again. Wanted—needed—to be as far as possible from here when it did. Turned and ran out the door.
4
"Let's go," Vuk said, reaching into his coat.
Ivo shook his head. He didn't want to do this. "Wait a bit. Maybe he'll come out."
They'd parked in a BMW 750iL up the gentle slope of Fifty-eighth Street from where they had a narrow-angle view of the door. A purely residential block. Not a single store and few pedestrians. They'd been here only a few minutes when they saw their man arrive on foot and enter the town house.
"And maybe he won't." Vuk took out his pistol, his tried-and-true 7.62mm M57 semiautomatic, and checked the action. "You heard what Dragovic said. If we see him, we take him and bring him in."
Ivo licked his dry lips. "The woman and child might be there."
"Hope so." He checked his bleached hair in the rearview mirror. "She's a beauty."
Ivo's palms were slick against the steering wheel. He'd sworn that his days of killing noncombatants were over. Vuk didn't care. Ivo doubted Vuk had ever given a second thought to what he'd done in Kosovo. He had to find a way to delay this.
"We need silencers," he said, grasping at the first idea to dart through his head. "Even a single shot in a neighborhood like this will bring the police."
"We'll have to risk it." Vuk reached for the door. "If we move fast enough, it won't matter."
Ivo grabbed his arm. "Wait."
He was trying desperately to think of something to say when movement by the town house caught his eye. The man was out again, almost running from the door.
"There he is!" he said, hoping the gush of relief was not apparent in his voice. "Moving fast."
"Don't let him out of your sight."
Ivo started the car and reached for the shift, then stopped. "He's coming this way."
The man broke into a jog as he crossed Sutton Place and started up the sidewalk.
"Coming right to us," Vuk said with a grin. "Perfect."
Ivo left the car in park and studied the approaching man. This was the first time he'd had a chance to see him since their brief encounter on the beach last week, and he looked… different. His expression was strange, somewhere between panic and rage. But his eyes… they'd been so mild last week. Now they were wild.
"Ready," Vuk said. The man would pass on his side. "You move when I do."
Ivo checked the street. Light traffic, only one or two pedestrians and none close by. When the man came to within a car length of their vehicle, Vuk opened his door. Ivo jumped out on the street side, drawing his own weapon, a FEG FP9, holding it low as he came around the rear bumper. He didn't chamber a round until Vuk had his weapon pointed at the man's chest.
"Into the car!" Vuk said.
Ivo pulled open the rear door with his free hand as the man skidded to a halt.
"What?" the man said.
"You heard!" Vuk said, gesturing with his pistol.
"You're the jerks from the beach. What are you doing in my city?"
"In!" Vuk lowered his barrel and pointed it at the man's legs. "Inside or I shoot your knees and drag you in."
The man's wild eyes darted from Vuk's gun to the one in Ivo's hand, then back again. No fear there or in his expression, just a brief baring of the teeth, very much like a snarl as he moved toward the open door. Ivo glanced around as he stepped back to let him in. No one was paying them any attention. Yet.
"Stop right there," Vuk said. He did a quick pat-down and grinned at Ivo when he found the empty SOB holster. "I think we have our man." To the man: "Where is your gun?"
"Home."
"Good place for it." Vuk shoved the man into the seat on the passenger side. "Do not move a muscle."
Ivo covered him while Vuk ran around to the other side and got in. He sat in the rear, facing their captive, while Ivo returned to the driver seat. Safe behind the wheel again, he let loose a breath he'd been holding. No one had noticed them. The whole operation had taken perhaps thirty seconds.
"So," Vuk said as Ivo pulled from the parking space, "you are man who wrecked our cars, yes?"
"Your cars?" the man said. "If you bring a car into my city, it's my car."
"Who are you?"
"You know very well who I am. I am Moreau. Dr. Moreau. Dr. Jack Moreau. I created you."
Something wrong here, Ivo thought. The man on the beach didn't talk crazy like this.
He adjusted the rearview mirror. The brown eyes flashed toward him, strangely glittering eyes. The eyes of a madman. Fear began to nibble at Ivo's gut. He felt like someone who had set a possum trap and wound up with a bear.
What have we let into our car?
"So it was you," Vuk said.
The man was shaking his head. "The beast flesh… the stubborn beast flesh creeping back."
"Stop talking like fool. First you make fool of our boss, then you try to make fool of my friend Ivo and me too, yes?"
The traffic light on Sutton Place turned green as Ivo approached. He made a right and stopped at the red at Fifty-seventh.
"Ivo?" the man said to Vuk. "What kind of name is that? I didn't name him that when I created him from a dog. And you. I created you from a donkey, I think. An ass. But I did not give you that hair color. And why would I try to make a fool out of you when you do such a good job of it by trying to look like a carrot? Don't you own a mirror?"
Ivo could hear the strain in Vuk's voice. "I can shoot off your knees now, but that would mean I have to carry you inside to speak to our boss, and later I have to clean up the mess. But once we are inside, the boss will want you to speak, and I will be very happy to be one to make sure you tell everything he wish to know."
Ivo crossed Fifty-seventh, keeping as much of a watch in his rearview as he did through the windshield.
"You would do well not to anger me by breaking the Law," the man said. "You remember the Law, don't you? Are you not men? Has the stubborn beast flesh crept back so far that you've forgotten the law? Break the Law and it's off to the House of Pain with you. I told you: I am Moreau."
"You are no one," Vuk said. "You are nothing. But you somehow manage to find yourself a fine-looking woman. Do you know what will happen after our boss is through with
you? Ivo and I are going to come back and pay little visit to your woman. We are going to fuck her."
What is Vuk doing? Ivo wondered, anxiety building like a pressure in his chest. Why is he taunting him? Doesn't he see the man's eyes? Can't he tell that he's completely insane?
And an insane man is capable of anything.
As Ivo turned onto Fifty-fifth he said, "I think that's enough for now."
"No, Ivo. Not nearly enough. I want him to know how we will take turns with his woman and how she will love it because she has never had real man before. And then perhaps we move on to little girl."
Ivo felt the air within the car thicken, become charged, as if lightning were readying a strike.
"Vuk, please!"
"Vuk?" The man laughed. "That's a name? Sounds like someone puking. But I guess it goes with the rest of you, donkey-man. Dumb name, dumb hair, dumb ass."
Ivo sensed sudden movement behind him and knew, just knew that Vuk was swinging his pistol at the man's face. And he saw the burst of triumph in the captive's eyes that said this was just what he had been waiting for.
"Vuk, no!"
Ivo yanked the wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes. As the car lurched to a halt he pulled his pistol from his shoulder holster. But it was too late.
He heard the man roar, "You turn upon your creator?" The shot from the rear seat sounded like a cannon as warm droplets sprayed the back of Ivo's neck. "You two are beyond salvage!"
Ivo had his pistol on the rise, about chest high, and was swinging his head around when the muzzle of Vuk's M57 appeared, an inch from his right eye. As he gazed down that narrow tunnel to eternity, a flash bloomed in his vision and all became bright white light, engulfing him, consuming him.
5
Half blind with rage, he jumps out and aims Carrot Top's pistol at the car. Occupants already dead, which is just what they should be for threatening to harm his women.
A vagrant thought intrudes: Wasn't I just thinking of harming them myself a few minutes ago? but he brushes it aside. Yeah but that was different. What I do is one thing. Doesn't mean anybody else can do the same.
All the Rage Page 27
