by Platt, Sean
Torrino slapped his chest to punctuate his virility. “A lot of people laugh at us, laugh at our beliefs, even though they don’t know half of what we truly believe. But I never doubted your father, Marina. Never. Can you say the same?”
“No, you’re right.” She shook her head. “I did have my doubts. But I think that strengthens my faith.”
“Yeah,” he said with a light laugh. Marina wasn’t sure if Torrino was agreeing with her, or calling bullshit.
“Please,” she said, “I wouldn’t ask you for the vial, but my father said I had to get them, and that the world was counting on me to do this … for him.”
Torrino ran a hand through his still-wet hair and massaged his temples as if agonizing over her request. Marina could practically smell his refusal.
He stood and circled his desk, then paused to Marina’s left, just inches away, looking down at her as he leaned his ass against the desk’s corner. Marina’s eyes drifted down his sculpted abs, stopping at the large bulge in his shorts.
She looked back up, too quickly, at his eyes.
He smiled.
Smug bastard!
He crossed his hands over his chest, casually, not bothering to hide his erection. It took a certain bravado to sit and insult someone sitting eye level with your balls. She could easily hurt him for the way he was treating her, but he knew she wouldn’t. He reveled in that knowledge, letting his cock stick straight out, daring her to hit him or move away.
“You know, I always liked you.” Torrino stared down the front of Marina’s shirt at her cleavage.
She didn’t bother to adjust, refusing to surrender in any way.
“And,” he continued, “I think your father wanted you and me to be together. He tried talking me into dating you a few times, but I always felt like it might be too weird. He thought of me like a son, you know?”
“Yes,” Marina said, wondering where he was going.
“He took me under his wing after my first movie, when everyone was calling me the next big thing. Stardom had already gone to my head, and though I didn’t know it I was vulnerable, in with a bad crowd, and soon strung out on too many drugs. My agent was a Don King of corruption, and I had an army of hangers-on all dragging me down. They were, as your father said, ‘suffocating my star.’”
He continued. “But your father saw me as more than a flash in the pan. He saw my potential and helped mold me into the man I am today.”
“You’ve done very well for yourself,” Marina said, sincerely. “I know he was proud of you.”
“Yes, yes he was. He was a far better father than my own deadbeat piece of shit, that’s for sure. Josh Harmon was the father I deserved.”
Marina nodded. “He was a good man.”
“Yes,” Torrino agreed. “And he was a far better father than you deserved.”
Marina stifled her anger. Still, she could feel her cheeks burning. If she didn’t need the vial, she would’ve stood and slapped Torrino across the face, or maybe kneed him in the groin.
Instead she kept her mouth shut, choking on crow.
He continued, not daring to let up. “You were always such a cunt.”
Torrino kept his eyes on her the entire time, like a monster toying with prey.
Marina knew for a fact that he’d been violent with a few ex-girlfriends; it was all in the dossiers that the church kept on anyone with power. The same dossier asserting that without the church’s programs, Torrino would be a raging sociopath. Whoops, too late. It was the sort of thing Marina could’ve leaked to the press if she were a petty person, but she’d only play that card if she had to.
For now, she kept saying nothing.
“Your father didn’t deserve you either. You were, or rather are, a cancer in the church. There are people looking to have you removed, especially after this whole stink with your former head of security dying under mysterious circumstances. You know this, right?”
Marina didn’t have a chance to answer before Torrino barreled forward.
“Tell me, did he do it?”
“Who? Did what?”
“Your new head of security, this agro guy you came in with. You hired, or promoted him rather quickly, eh? So soon after your lover’s death. So, is this your new man? Is he the one that did that to your face? Or was it Steven? Ah, I get it. Steven punched you, and this new guy killed Steven. That sound right? I bet Papa would be proud, you fucking whore.”
Whore?!
Marina stood, her face on fire and heart pounding out of her chest.
Torrino held his position as she stood, just inches from Marina. She had to push the chair back in order not to bump into him. He seemed like he expected her to fall back, afraid.
She’d stand her ground, screw him.
He was about an inch shorter than her, maybe two, and it thrilled her to know that he noticed. Marina tried to stand straighter as she bore down on Torrino, hoping her strength was making his cock flaccid like the tiny man he was.
“I always knew you hated women.”
“Not all women, just whores like you who don’t know their place.”
“My place?” she said, getting in his face. “My place?!”
“Yeah,” he said, refusing to back down, eyes red, glaring into hers. “When your father died, you were supposed to go off and enjoy his money, let one of the other leaders take over the day-to-day operations, repair some of the damage you were already starting to do. But nooo, you had to go whole hog with your plans to sully the church and turn it into some bullshit liberal charity, throwing money to fucking mongrels who don’t work for a thing.”
“Oh, wow, so a womanizer and a racist, elitist scumbag? Wow, real class act, buddy.”
Torrino stood his ground, fogging Marina’s face with his breath. “You know they laugh at you, right? All the church leaders think you’re a fucking disgrace to the organization! You’d never have this job if your father hadn’t given it to you.”
Marina shook her head, nearly as fast as her racing heart. Her leg was shaking; she hated confrontations like these, but damned if she would let this asshole treat her like he treated everyone else with the misfortune of living in a lower station.
She inched ever closer, putting her face inches from his.
“You wanna know something, Max? My father didn’t love you. He didn’t even respect you. He felt sorry for you. He pitied you. Because you were a nothing when he met you, and you’re a nothing now. All the money in the world won’t make you a tenth of the man my father was.”
“Yeah, well I guess he respected me more than he did you, or he would’ve given you the vial and not me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, cunt, I’ve gotta get back to my tan.”
Torrino started to walk past her, his smug grin like a kick to her gut.
“No!” she said, “you will give me that vial!”
Marina reached out to grab Torrino’s shoulder and turn him around.
He spun fast and ferocious, like a predator, punching Marina hard in the jaw, where Keenan had punched her before. Her face exploded in pain.
She fell back, her head hitting the desk, hard.
Marina cried out as she sank to the carpet, feeling dizzy, weak, like the world was blurring, darkening at the edges of her vision.
Torrino looked down at her with disgusted rage, before kicking Marina in the ribs. Pain tore through her body. She cried out with the one word she was able to form.
“Help!”
* * * *
CHAPTER 2 — EDWARD KEENAN
Ed stood outside Torrino’s office, pacing, eavesdropping on the conversation via the earpiece connected to Marina’s mic as the actor’s steroid case, the bodyguard with a buzz cut and no neck, guarded the door like Ed might decide to rush into the room.
Ed had every intention of letting Marina try to get the vials first, as he didn’t need the shit storm he’d get from his superiors if things went south with Max Torrino.
But then shit went south anyway.
Ed had
his gun in the bodyguard’s face the moment Marina screamed.
The bodyguard froze, hand reaching for the pistol inside his black jacket.
“Is he worth dying for?” Keenan asked.
The bodyguard’s eyes widened, frightened to die. He shook his head no.
“Good, take your gun out, by the barrel, then hand it over nice and slow,” Ed ordered. “I’m with Homeland Security. We have this place surrounded.”
The bodyguard did as instructed. Ed grabbed the man’s Colt Python and barked, “Open the door!”
Behind the door, Marina let out another cry as the guard followed orders.
Keenan followed the man into the room and saw Torrino about to kick Marina.
“Freeze!” Ed yelled, aiming his gun at the movie star. It was almost surreal pointing a gun at a man whom Ed had seen in countless action movies as the guy who always outsmarted his enemies. Pulling a gun on Torrino in a movie was the quickest way to get your ass handed to you.
But this wasn’t a movie, and Ed was no more afraid of Max Torrino than he was the boogeyman.
Torrino turned, eyes wild, hair mussed, stunned that someone was stopping him.
“Get away from her!” Keenan said, “Homeland Security.”
“Homeland Security? What the hell is this about?”
“Get in your chair,” Ed said. Then, pointing to the guard, added, “You get in the corner and keep your hands in the air. Lower them or turn around, and I’ll shoot you. Understand?”
The bodyguard nodded.
Ed watched as Torrino went to his seat. Ed then turned and locked the doors to the office.
“Hands on your desk, palms down,” he snapped. “Move ‘em, and I’ll shoot you.”
Torrino sighed as he put his hands on the table, rolling his eyes.
Ed bent down and looked at Marina. She seemed woozy, her jaw screaming red where Torrino had apparently punched her. He felt a sting of guilt as he looked at her jaw, seeing one bruise shading another.
“You OK?” he asked.
She tried to stand, eyes tearing, pissed and wanting to go after Torrino.
“You sit down a minute,” Ed said. “I’ve got this.”
Ed helped Marina stand, set her in a chair opposite Torrino, then turned to the celebrity. “So, you’re a big Hollywood tough guy, eh? Hitting women?”
“Fuck you,” Torrino sneered. “I want my lawyer.”
Outside the office door, Ed heard Torrino’s assistant yell, “I’ve called the police, Mr. Torrino. They’ll be here shortly. I suggest you all leave here before they arrive.”
“We are the police!,” Ed growled back. “I’m with Homeland Security. Now shut your mouth and get your ass downstairs.”
Ed wished he could see the woman’s face. She’d been such a bitch when they arrived, as arrogant as Mr. Hollywood himself.
“I want my lawyer,” Torrino repeated, glaring up at Ed.
“Oh, you didn’t hear me? I said I’m with Homeland Security. You have no rights. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to cooperate and give us the vial before I have this place crawling with agents and leading you out your front door in cuffs.”
“You can’t arrest me. Mr. Harmon gave me the vial. It’s mine. And besides, it’s not even here. It’s in a safe deposit box at the bank.”
“Bullshit,” Marina said, surprising Ed. “I can tell he’s lying. He wouldn’t trust it in a bank. It’s here, somewhere. No way he leaves it out of sight. He wouldn’t trust anyone.”
Ed saw something creep across Torrino’s face — a look that confirmed Marina’s accusation. She’d figured him out, and he didn’t like it.
Torrino shook his head, “I’m not handing it over. Do whatever you want, you’re not getting shit.”
“Oh, you’ll hand it over.” Keenan leaned forward and sneered into his phony Hollywood smile.
Ed saw movement in the corner, the bodyguard’s right arm creeping down.
Ed fired a shot into the monitor behind the man on the adjoining wall. “Keep your hands up!”
The guard jumped when the monitor screen shattered, then did as he was told.
“Fuck!” Torrino screamed, starting to stand. “Do you know how much that costs?!”
Ed shoved the gun in his face and barked, “Sit down!”
“Do you know who I am?” Torrino yelled, his face turning beet red. “Do you know what I can do to you? To both of you?”
“Yeah, you’re a guy who gets paid a lot of money to play pretend and shoot bad guys and fuck starlets. And oh yeah, you’re a lot shorter in person. And you like to hurt women. Yeah, I know who you are. But all I care about is that vial. So you’re going to lead me to it and hand it over, or else.”
“Why the hell do you even want it?” Torrino whined.
“It’s a matter of national security, and you, sir, are impeding our attempts to preserve said security. That makes you a terrorist, son.”
“I want to know why you need it.”
Keenan was tired of playing patty cake with this bastard, but figured the man was clinging to his fragile ego and needed a win, something he could cling to. If that meant trading the vial for some information, Keenan had no problem throwing the mongrel some scraps.
“Have you seen the violence on TV? The mass shootings at the mall, at the school, that woman who tried to bite a child’s face off? These people have been infected with what’s inside the vial. It’s a highly dangerous biological weapon.”
“Bullshit,” Torrino said. “No way Josh Harmon would have a biological weapon, or give it to me, or anyone else, to hold onto.”
“It’s complicated,” Ed said, “but believe me — if we don’t get the vials back into custody, millions of people will die.”
Torrino stared at them, his grin finally fading as he seemed to consider Ed’s words. He looked at Marina, and something twisted in his face, an anger he couldn’t dismiss. He shook his head no.
“I want my lawyer.”
Marina shouted, “He’s telling you the truth, Max! Innocent people will die if we don’t hand over the vials. Do you want to be responsible for that?”
“I’m not responsible. Whatever happens happens, it’s what’s meant to be. As the Great All-Seeing intended.”
“You can’t be that heartless,” Marina said. “You’re willing to let innocent men, women, and children die because of what? Some stupid belief that the Great All-Seeing won’t let bad shit happen?”
“It won’t happen to me, or any of the other enlightened. We’ll be fine. It’s all ordained. Perhaps the world needs a proper flushing.”
Ed shook his head. “You can’t be serious. Are you stupid? I mean, I know you Hollywood types will believe anything, but this is some world-class high school misfit nihilism shit here.”
“Why should I care about anyone else? You think I don’t know what people think of me, think of us, Marina? They laugh at our religion, mock our beliefs, and they thought your father was a fraud. But it looks like he’ll have the last laugh, eh? No, I’m tired of being everyone’s dancing monkey. Fuck humanity, and fuck you, too, Marina. You can die with the rest of the unenlightened flotsam.”
Torrino grinned his big, stupid Hollywood smile, like he was sitting on a talk show host’s couch, discussing his latest flick, oblivious as he was evil.
Ed had had enough.
He reached into the loop on his belt, fingered the handle of his black carbon blade, and whipped it out, slicing across Torrino’s left cheek.
Torrino screamed, fingers up as the flap of skin fell open and blood began to gush down his face and onto his neck.
Keenan glanced over at the guard who stared back with terrified eyes. Keenan pointed his gun at him and said, “Staaay.” The man turned back around.
In his ear, Keenan heard Luther ask, “What did you do?”
“Don’t worry. What’s the situation with the cops?”
“The agency is taking care of it. We’re good.”
Keenan smiled, and leaned closer to Torrino. “My man just said the cops are getting sent home. That means we have all night to give your plastic surgeon the biggest hard-on of his life. Now you might not give a shit about most people, and that doesn’t surprise me at all, but as long as there are people, you’ll care about your appearances. And as long as there are people around to watch your stupid movies, you wanna be making as much money as you can, right? So here’s the deal, Max. When I’m done with you, the only role you’re gonna be able to land is a remake of The Elephant Man. Do I make myself clear?”
“You’re fucking crazy!” Torrino held the flap of flesh to his cheek, as if it might mend itself back if pressed hard or long enough.
“You’re right,” Ed said, “I am crazy because I love my job. Especially when I get to put little bitches like you who play tough guys on the big screen in your place.”
Ed turned and winked at Marina.
She smiled.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” Ed asked. “The vial, or round two of Stabby Pokey?”
Torrino nodded yes, tears in his eyes.
Sometimes, Ed really did love his job.
* * * *
CHAPTER 3 — MARY OLSON
Mary stared up at her bedroom’s darkness. She could feel hot sun outside the drawn curtains, trying to pour light into her room, but wanted nothing of it, nor the people in her cabin — Brent, Teagan, Ben, and Becca.
She could hear them outside, discussing Jade’s death and how they couldn’t tell Ed that his daughter was gone because Bolton had killed all communication between the island and the mainland. It was wrong — that the people in charge were choosing operational security over Ed’s rights as a parent.
There were also whispers about Mary. She couldn’t make out much of it, other than how horrible everyone felt about her losing Paola.
Every now and then someone would come to the door, gently knocking to check on her needs. Mary said no thank you each time, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.
But Desmond had asked them to stay while he was back at the facility working to get the situation under control. The island was on lockdown. No ferries in or out. No shipments from the mainland. Civilians were told to stay in their cabins while the Guardsmen scoured the island for infected and Desmond inspected everyone.
