“When do you intend to call Maximillian with the updates?” Bludd asked.
“It’ll wait.” The call was not all that important to me. It was Maximillian’s trust in Pembroke as an ally that had cost Anna her life. I didn’t say it, but Bludd got the message.
Bludd nodded, “Okay mate, you have the lead.”
Chapter 15
“I wanted to know how anyone could judge the outcome before the end.”
—Walter
On the lower east side of Toronto, the Galaxy Icahn hotel stood as a landmark, or so their advertisement said. I called Kuhl at the hut the next day. He had barely taken the time to rest his eyes before he was back on the mission. His plan was to get inside the hotel and put some monitoring bugs around. Foremost would be near the front counter where many conversations took place. With a little luck his surveillance would locate Bruno.
For some reason, Bludd was antsy to call Maximillian. I wasn’t. I didn’t see the need. I didn’t buy into Pembroke’s claim that Max had sold us out. What I saw was an error in judgment, not malicious intent on Maximillian’s part. I supposed it might cheer Max up a little to hear the details of Pembroke’s interrogation. It certainly made me feel better. I reluctantly made the call.
“Hello,” Max said.
“This is Scythian.”
“I was hoping to hear from you.”
“The hunting guide you suggested turned out to be useless.” I found myself guarded more than usual. I didn’t like the idea of an unsecure phone line as a means of communication, not with what we’d done. I didn’t care if Max knew what had transpired, but the fewer that had access to the information, the better. I spoke as coded as possible that Max could understand. “I fired him.”
“Where do we go from here?” Max asked.
“Hunting was good at lower elevations. Shot a nice mess of game birds, but the bigger game has moved further up the mountain. We’re going to move to a higher elevation for our next hunt.” I would have preferred to have told him that I’d planned to kill all the Abbandanza hierarchy, and shutdown the entire crime syndicate, but I couldn’t. Apparently he picked up on the fact I was on an unsecured phone and went along with me.
“When do you think you’ll end your vacation and return home?” Max asked. He was fishing for something without bait. I could hear it in his voice. If he was after operational specifics of when and where the next target would be taken out, he was barking up the wrong tree. He didn’t have a need to know. As with most plans, if you wanted to keep them secret, you didn’t tell anyone. Once the cat was out of the bag, it was hell to get it back in. “Just as soon as we’re done,” I said.
“We need to talk soon. I have someone I want you to meet. They will help wrap the project up.” Right then, I wanted to say, which one of your friends did you want me to meet and kill this time? I’d become distracted by Bludd jumping up and down in excitement as he pointed to the television. “Okay, I said to Max, “I gotta go.”
The local news broadcast brought its viewers a breaking news story, but it wasn’t news at all. Not to us. Bludd watched to see what, if anything, surfaced about Pembroke. After I had hung up with Max, Bludd laid out the particulars, “The report was pretty sketchy, mate. They didn’t give any graphic details—yet.”
“What about Sam, did they mention her?”
“Well I suppose they did, mate. The reporter said there was a witness to the brutal murder. She was placed into protective custody. It had to be her,” Bludd replied. “What did Maximillian have to say?”
“Not much,” I said. “He was fishing for the lowdown on our plans.” I grinned and continued, “He said he had someone else for me to meet.” I shrugged, “I don’t understand Max; I think he’s a slow learner, sometimes.” Bludd ripped a deep-bellied laugh.
I placed a call to Gladys Mitchell. I wanted to unload the hefty bundle of cash we’d taken from Rizzi. What better place to put it to good use, than with someone who wanted to get kids off the streets. When Gladys answered, I told her I had another donation to deposit. She agreed to meet at the Pearl Street Grill again and shoot for an afternoon rendezvous around three-thirty. I was mindful Kuhl might call and I’d have to forgo the meeting with Gladys. “Don’t take it personally if I’m a no show,” I said. “My job might call me out. If so I will reschedule with you.” She seemed satisfied with the arrangement.
I was able to make our scheduled meeting at Pearl Street without interruption, although I’d hoped for the call from Kuhl instead. The idea he had Bruno in his crosshairs aroused me. Since I had nothing else on my docket, Gladys and I chatted for a spell. She had something I rarely found in people, a genuine heart. It was refreshing, and a real treat to listen to her talk about her concern for the lost kids of the city. While she spoke, my thoughts took me back to what I’d felt when Walter was conceived in his original state. Gladys had virtue and character and was a positive influence in a negative world. She’d brought a touch of heaven to the process of deliverance. Society didn’t recognize the virtue because the concept was too difficult to comprehend. They had been ruled by the philosophy of every dog for himself. My part in the process was a notably darker and more sinister role in the rescue of kids. I looked at it this way; people like Gladys and I were both necessary for the process to work. We made a cycle of life; both positive and negative were comprised in the complete circuit. It was an honor to meet a counterpart in the cycle.
I’d placed the money in a leather and nylon rucksack before I met with Gladys. The last time we’d met, she’d ridden the bus. If it was her only means of transportation, then the rucksack would be easier than a canvas bag to pack. The eighty-grand was a mixed bag, from sawbucks to C-notes, and altogether weighed around twenty pounds. When I told her how much the wad contained, give or take a couple Gs, she got all teary-eyed. I gave her a hug, and said, “I gotta go.” She nodded and said, “God Bless you.” I was humbled by her prayer for me. God knows I needed help, but I doubted any God would bless what I did.
It was rush hour and traffic was snarled all across the city. After firing up Bludd’s Tahoe, I waited until the temperature gauge started to climb before shifting the transmission into drive. I flipped on the radio and listened for traffic reports, by the off chance I might miss a pile up somewhere along the route. It was a survival mechanism I’d learned since I’d been stuck in urban sprawls. Even expecting Kuhl would call momentarily; when the phone rang it took me by surprise. I flipped the phone cover up and fumbled it to my ear, “Yeah.”
“Scythian.” It was Max. It was a disappointment.
“I don’t have time to meet with anyone right now, Max, I’m busy.” It was a snappy response, more rude than abrupt. I’m sure I put icing on the cake when I called him Max. More than once, in the past, he’d made clear his disdain for the abbreviated version of his name. I’d also been clear in the very recent past, I didn’t care.
“Yes…well, I have someone here who wants to talk with you,” he said. “Just a moment, please.” I didn’t know what part of, “I don’t have the time,” he didn’t catch, but I had higher priorities than a phone call, from Max or any of his buddies.
“Hello Walter.” I was floored. Time stood still as I reeled from the confusion that overwhelmed me. I pulled the Tahoe to a stop alongside the road, I felt disconnected from reality. I waited for the voice on the other end of the line, a female voice, to speak again. It had been a simple, “Hello,” but it was an unmistakable voice; a voice from the grave. She spoke again, “Walter.”
I uttered her name in disbelief, “Anna?”
“Hi, Walter.” She waited for my response, but how could I? It wasn’t that I was speechless, because I wasn’t. But I froze up inside. I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t make any sense. What is going on? I wondered. Maybe I was speechless. As realization set in, I was flooded with emotion.
“Are you hurt…are you okay?” I whispered.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine, but I need to talk with you
as soon as we can?”
“Get together,” I said. “Where are you?”
“Here,” she said, “I’ve been here. In the best interest of the project, I remained out of the picture until the mole was caught.”
I didn’t know where here was. Not exactly. If she was here, it was clear, Max was here too. They were both here, wherever here might be. A bad feeling came over me. I had been used and perhaps setup to be used again. Why wasn’t I told what they were up too? I had taken control of the project, but Max clearly wanted to shut it down. At least that was what I was led to believe. If I’d gone along with Max and shutdown the project, how would it have caused Pembroke to come out of his rat-hole and show himself for what he was? I had questions, too many of them for a phone call, and the wrong type questions to ask over open airways. A meeting was necessary.
“When and where?”
“Maximillian and I will come to you, what is your location now?”
Tact was not my forte and I needed time to get a handle on what I felt. “Not now, not today,” I said. Questions ran rampant through my thoughts as if it was a playground. Anna’s being alive wasn’t a game changer. We’d set the wheel in motion to eradicate child sex slavery hidden within the crime family’s immigration racket. It escalated because of what had happened to Anna and from a determination to extract blood for blood. It wasn’t a smart move to interrupt the game while it was in play. We had pressure on the players; it didn’t seem smart to back off now. Secondly, it didn’t seem smart to let someone know our whereabouts until we understood what had happened.
“I’ll call you,” I said. “We’ll set a time and place then.”
“Okay honey, I want you to know how much I care about you,” Anna said. “I saw how much you cared for me through your actions. Walter…it’s been hard for me too.”
We left it there, for now. It was a dream come true or should have been. I was thankful Anna was alive and relieved to hear she hadn’t been hurt. But my emotions were all over the place. It was a mixed bag which made it difficult to focus my attention on Bruno. I didn’t like the confusion I felt. It fostered a greater distrust for the Palatini ways. It was a further reason to distance myself from the organization and embrace individual vigilantism.
It was ten minutes before seven when I made it back to the motel room on Buffalo’s north side. I’d had time to mull over what I would say to the team concerning Anna and the project as a whole. I felt we’d all been misled into thinking we were on a vendetta for Anna. It wasn’t true. On the same token, I didn’t want to call the project to a halt. There were kids to save. In my book, we could hash out the news later, after we took care of the business at hand. If we didn’t live through it, there would be nothing to resolve.
I had no sooner walked into the motel room when Bludd snagged my attention with an abrupt demand. “Call Kuhl.” His tone of urgency was out of character. It was enough to stand my hackles on end. I didn’t hesitate.
Kuhl blurted, “He’s here, room two-zero-niner.”
Project on, I thought. The main thing was to keep the main thing, the main thing. And the main thing was to kill Abbandanza mobsters. As many as possible and as long as possible. There was no other level of win conceivable. I would not let a peripheral issue like a meeting come between me and my prey.
“Can we wrap up business on the spot?” I asked.
“Let’s hook up here and take care of it,” Kuhl said.
That was great news. “En route,” I said, and turned to tell Bludd to clear out everything and mount up, we were moving to a new location, but he was a step ahead of me. His coat was on, and his bags were in hand. “Stop blathering, mate. Hurry and pack your things and let’s go.”
Kuhl hadn’t mentioned there was any need to hurry, but I felt an internal prompt just the same. I’d never been an adrenaline junkie, but I had an unexplainable urgency that could only be controlled by action. I didn’t live for the rush, but I could live with it just fine.
It was less than a two-hour drive to meet up with Kuhl at his surveillance van. He’d strategically parked in a lot adjacent to a large grocery store that operated twenty-four hours a day. The busy store acted as cover and concealment. On the road trip, I wanted to tell Bludd about Anna, but resisted the urge. I felt the timing wasn’t right. By not telling my comrades up front, I ran the risk of being as guilty as Max was for withholding the truth. Once Bludd and I joined Kuhl, maybe I’d find the opportunity to tell them what I’d found out from Max. However, at this point, my priority was Bruno’s imminent death.
When we arrived at Kuhl’s van, he had us enter through the back doors and take a seat. He had a pretty fancy get-up. A five-foot long piece of two-by-twelve rested on top of two five-gallon paint buckets meant for visitors. Although, I imagined he hadn’t had many that lived to tell about it. Kuhl sat in a beat-up rusty looking metal folding chair that retained a hint of its beige enamel factory paint. It was comfortable though, in comparison to the bench Bludd and I were on. Kuhl was perched at a custom designed workstation that was neither futuristic nor ergonomic. Nonetheless it contained the essentials of his high-tech electronics.
He adjusted his headset over his ears and sat motionless with his eyes shut like he was a participant at a séance summoning a spirit from the afterlife. I had news for him; I had spoken to one raised from the dead just before I’d answered his call.
Bludd and I made ourselves as comfortable as we could in the tight quarters while he continued to monitor the spy bugs for “voices.” I took it all in. From the electronic gadgets to the poorly constructed plywood counter. It was a curious mixture, much like Kuhl himself.
I wanted to bring up the subject of Anna, but when I started, Kuhl put his index finger over his mouth and uttered, “Ssssshh.” As I waited for an opportune moment, I noticed his lojack system was operational. He scribbled a cryptic note to himself on a yellow sticky Post-it pad and removed one side of the headphones. “He’ll be heading for his vehicle in a few minutes. I’d suggest you get a bead on him.”
“Where’s his rig parked?”
“In the hotel parking lot,” Kuhl said. He raised his hand and pointed, “Right over there.” The black SUV was in plain sight and backed up to the outer edge of the lot.
“We need to get a lojack transmitter on it.”
“Yeah buddy,” Kuhl said, “I’ve already done that.”
“Outstanding,” I said, but then I saw a twinkle in his eye that made me question, was there more to the story? Kuhl had something up his sleeve. “What else?” I asked. There had to be something else. He came off too smug.
“I rigged it to blow,” he said. As fun as that sounded, the reality was we were in a waiting game, and it was Bruno’s move. I caught a glimpse of Bludd’s big toothy grin out of the corner of my eye, he liked the idea of fireworks too.
Kuhl had picked up a transmission at the hotel desk that Bruno was checking out. When he left the hotel we’d tail and take advantage of the first opportunity. I wanted a piece of this guy, but because he was a high priority target, I wanted to interrogate him first. What could I achieve? Maybe nothing, but he might hold the key to the annihilation of the crime family, a thought that appealed to me. Anna wasn’t dead or hurt, and Cal got mixed up with mobsters he knew were dangerous. He didn’t deserve what happened, but he jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. It was no surprise when he got burned. Outside of the whereabouts of Joey Naccarella, I didn’t see where Bruno could shed much light on anything. I conceded to Bludd and Kuhl, either way worked on Bruno, but I made it clear, “He’s not the end to the vendetta. The Machine has to be destroyed completely, and forever.”
“I don’t think we can make a significant enough impact to run them out of town,” Bludd said.
Kuhl nodded in agreement. “We’ve hit ’em hard already; I’d say we’ve slowed them up, but we need to be realistic. I don’t see a way to affect any permanent damage. The money drop you took probably upset them more than the lo
ss of a couple street hustlers, but the more earners we take out, the greater impact it would have on their money.”
“Did you forget about Pembroke?” I asked.
“He was a patsy. Money can buy another one that looks just like him and does the same thing,” Kuhl said.
Kuhl was right. The Abbandanza crime family was resilient and numbered over three hundred known officers, soldiers, and associates. How could a small band of assassins make a long-term change? Kuhl’s response continued to resonate with me.
“How do you know what we can do?” I asked. I wanted to know how anyone could judge the outcome before the end.
“The problem is how do we know when we’ve reached the end?” Bludd said.
“There is no end,” Kuhl said, “the government has tried for a hundred years and they can’t shut down the Mob, not even with all their manpower and money.”
“Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think we’re spinning our wheels,” I said. “The Machine can be brought down. They are at the disadvantage, not us; they have never met the likes of a Palatini vendetta.” I let my comrades think about a solution, how we win or how we end it, but no one spoke up. I knew the Abbandanza history. There were times in their past when they’d engaged in territorial wars, and came out more powerful. They’d survived the onslaught of government agencies who had corralled a portion of their activity, but the Mob was never deterred. They have continued to expand their influence and wealth.
“I know this. We won’t know until we try,” I said. “We can’t compare what we do to the cops or judiciary; they are constrained by the laws they’ve made.” Kuhl and Bludd acknowledged the truism in my words with a sideways nod and a shrug. “As Palatini, we have no such restraint,” I said. “We are the law.”
Lawless Measures_Vigilante_The Fight Continues Page 24
