Blood Conspiracy (Brooklyn Shadows Book 2)

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Blood Conspiracy (Brooklyn Shadows Book 2) Page 18

by Brock Deskins


  “Enough, Malone! You will conduct yourself in accordance with the rules of the forum!”

  “This is a forum now? Because I thought it was a dictatorial tribunal the way you perch yourselves way up there above the rest of us common folk.”

  Harriet looks ready to explode, but she composes herself. “Everyone within the enclave has a voice. Convince us that Mr. Poplonovich is acting in good faith and not taking advantage of our desperate situation.”

  “The price has more to do with cementing a trusting business relationship between his people and ours than being about profit. He fears us.”

  “He damn well should.”

  “And that attitude is why you are going to pay him. He didn’t ask to be let in on our little secret. It was one of yours who put it in a paper bag, dropped it on his doorstep, and lit it on fire. He has the knowledge and the technology to give us the best chance of pulling this off. I think that and the trust we will build through cooperation is well worth the cost. Most people in his situation would let us try on our own. If we succeed, he’s no worse off than he was before. If we fail, what he views as his biggest threat takes a potentially fatal blow.”

  “Again I ask, why help us then?”

  “Yuri is a businessman before all else. He is forward-thinking and sees potential in harvesting a cooperative relationship between his house and ours. He is risking the wrath of the federal government to help us, and we owe it to him to show some good faith. Ten million dollars’ worth of it.”

  Heads begin bobbing and words of agreement echo through the chamber. The vampire community, especially the old ones like those on the council, hates having to work with humans. Knowing Yuri has capabilities they do not possess is akin to blasphemy.

  Harriet confers with her fellow council leaders. “Very well, we will pay Mr. Poplonovich. Recovering Vincent and preventing this information from spreading beyond the current government operation is of paramount importance. If this helps reassure Mr. Poplonovich and creates a mutual understanding it is worth the expense.”

  “Yuri knows how to keep secrets. He is no more a fan of the government than we are when it comes to inner knowledge of our operations.”

  “Where do we stand now with our preparations, particularly in regards to Mr. Poplonovich?”

  “Our best hope for sneaking into the compound is by hijacking the truck used to refuel their generators. Yuri proposes that we take the driver and crew, disguise his people as the crew, and use a trailer with a hidden compartment to sneak our team inside. Once inside, Lesile, Marvin, and I will make our way to the top level where they lock up the captured vampires. When we find Vincent, Marvin will change the frequency so no one can remotely detonate it. Once we secure Vincent, your team waiting outside the compound will turn on the signal jammers so no traffic can get out, then storm the place. After that, it’s just a cleanup operation.”

  “Do you think a simple disguise will get his people past their security? I do not like relying on frail humans.”

  “Yuri says he has a guy who can create dead ringers. Because of the countermeasures I suspect Snow and his people to employ, we’ll need Yuri’s people to pose as the fuel truck crew. Snow knows how to identify vampires, and I’m sure some of these measures are passive types and in constant use, likely thermal imaging being primary amongst them. Since we cannot know what other measures are in place, it is best we not use our people.”

  “We are putting a lot of faith in Mr. Poplonovich and his people.”

  “No more than he is putting in us. Yuri is placing himself in a very dangerous position for no reason other than cementing a mutual tolerance of each other’s existence.”

  “And ten million dollars and some favors,” Harriet reminds me.

  “That too.”

  Mason, the werewolves’ pack leader asks me, “What would you have of my people?”

  I have been thinking about the wolves’ involvement from the get-go. No doubt they will provide some valuable shock troops, but if this operation goes south, I don’t want to expose them to discovery as well. It was bad enough I had to involve Meat, but I needed him.

  “I think it is best for you and your pack to stay behind the lines and pick off anyone trying to escape. Just in case Snow has another way of getting information out, I don’t want to compromise your people as well.”

  Mason nods. “I understand, and we appreciate your consideration. It is a bit unexpected coming from you.”

  “What can I say? I have a vested interest now.”

  Mason’s face twitches as if he just bit into a turd-filled éclair. Obviously, Kat’s and my relationship does not sit well with the pack. As if I give two shits.

  “Lesile Savard,” Harriet cuts in, “your conduct has been the topic of numerous discussions within the council. You toe a very fine line, but if you acquit yourself well during this operation, we will pardon your past indiscretions. Be warned, this does not give you license to continue acting recklessly.”

  Lesile’s condescending smile indicates she cares about the opinions and goodwill of the council about as much as I do. It’s an odd feeling realizing we are more similar than different. Maybe that’s why I hate her so damn much.

  “If there is no further business, this council is adjourned. We will reconvene once we hear back from Mr. Poplonovich regarding the acquisition of the truck and crew.”

  I shake my head at her continued formality. Even when everything is a clusterfuck, she and the rest of the old blood still can’t pry the sticks out of their asses. It’s doubtful, but I hope her and the other council leaders put themselves on the front line. When bullets start flying and explosions are rocking your bones, rules and protocols get thrown out the window. You learn to be flexible real fast or become real dead.

  Lesile and I take that as our cue to leave. I stare out of the car window as we cross over the Brooklyn Bridge. Looking out at the lights of the city, I can’t help but think about what a fiasco this all is. I don’t think I realized how close to Armageddon we really are. If we fail to prevent the information of our existence from spreading beyond Snow’s organization, it’s Judgment Day for us. Snow might be willing and able to keep our secret for a year or two, but it will become common knowledge soon enough, especially if they succeed in creating their super soldiers.

  This has to go down perfectly, or we’re screwed. The entire world will create task forces to eradicate our kind. For a minute, I start to wonder if I care. I’ve spent so long hating my existence I can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if that happened. Then I think of Kat and even Meat and his people. The humans wouldn’t stop with us. Someone would find out about the werewolves, in their hunt for vampires. Kat deserves better than that. She is a good person and not a parasite.

  But we’re not parasites either, not all of us. We made some of the greatest achievements in human history. Our long lives allow us to learn far more and develop insights well beyond those of most mortals. Sure, there are assholes like Francis and greedy dipshits like Percy who come along and fuck it up for the rest of us on occasion, but are we any worse than the warm bloods? We don’t exactly corner the market on killing people, and our motivation is a damn sight better than most murderers.

  Maybe I’ve been too hard on myself and my kind. Hell, I like me, and I like what I do despite my bitching about it all the time. I’m not sure I would have admitted that before meeting Katherine. Whatever the reason, I’m not going out without a fight.

  CHAPTER 14

  (Castillo)

  I’m smiling as I push the button that releases the chemicals into Malone’s body when a voice wakes me from my dream. My hand covers my right eye as it cradles my head and acts as a kickstand to keep it from dropping onto my desk. My left eye focuses on the open military record belonging to someone who looks an awful lot like Malone, only it’s from 1972, so it couldn’t possibly be him unless he’s the youngest-looking senior citizen on the planet.

  “Castillo, some ki
d wants to talk to you. You got a minute?”

  I lift my head up and blink away the fog. “Sure, send him back. Thanks, Callahan.”

  “It’s late even for you. Why don’t you kick off and call it a night?”

  “Yeah, I will, right after this.”

  Callahan gives me a concerned look before stepping out. He returns escorting a Latino kid, who looks to be around seventeen, to my desk. Both of his eyes are blackened and the entire left side of his face is a massive bruise. I’m no doctor, but I bet there are some fractures as well. The kid occupies the chair next to my desk. He looks around nervously, desperate to be anywhere else than here. The tattoo of a crown on his neck is new and marks him as a member of the Latin Kings. Something must be pretty bad for him to walk willingly into the police station.

  “What’s your name?”

  The kid flinches at the sound of my voice. “R-Rafael.”

  “What brings you here?” Rafael looks around the room again and struggles with what to say. “Look, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  He swallows and nods. “Me and some of my homies were hanging out at Brooklyn Bridge Park. We got into it with this guy. He hit me in the face and I blacked out. I’ve never been hit so hard in my life. It felt like he used a baseball bat, but it was just his fist.”

  “What caused the fight?” The kid looks down at his shoes and doesn’t talk. “What did the guy look like?”

  “He was just a gringo in a black coat. He acted like he was drunk, but I think he was faking.” He looks at me intently. “I swear he wanted us to do something! He baited us into the park so he could kill Miguel!”

  “He killed Miguel?”

  Rafael shakes his head. “I don’t know. He knocked me out, and when I came to, Miguel was gone. I can’t find him. No one can find him.”

  “Rafael, I need you to be a hundred percent honest with me. I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t. I shouldn’t even be here, but I’m afraid he’s going to come back for me too. He wasn’t human.”

  “What was he?”

  Rafael begins to tremble and he whispers, “El Diablo. I’ve sinned, and he’s coming for my soul. He’s coming for all of us.”

  I pull out a picture of Malone from my desk. “Is this the man?”

  Rafael nearly falls out of his chair, hugs his arms around his chest, and nods. “That’s The Devil, and he’s in New York.”

  “Rafael, I want you to tell me exactly what happened. Whatever you say is just between us, I promise.”

  “You believe me?”

  “I do. Tell me what happened. Why do you think he is The Devil?”

  “Me and some of the gang were just chilling at the park. This guy, we thought it was just a guy, staggers past us. Me, Miguel, and Julio follow him. We’re going to roll him for his wallet. It’s supposed to be my final initiation. We follow him off the path and jump him. We start beating him, and he goes down like he’s supposed to. Julio and Miguel, they start stabbing him. I’m freaked out. We were just supposed to roll him. Suddenly, the guy jumps up like it’s nothing. Julio and Miguel must have stabbed him like ten times and he doesn’t care. He hits me, and I go down. When I wake up, Julio is lying in the grass with me, but Miguel is gone. Everyone looked for him, but he’s gone. El Diablo took him to hell.”

  “Why did you come to me?”

  “I didn’t know where else to go. A couple of the guys, they know you. They said you were cool if you played straight with you. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “If you really think it’s The Devil, I suggest you get out of your gang and start going to church.”

  Rafael’s head bobs up and down. “I will!”

  “Go home. Get out of the gang, get a job, get that thing removed from your neck, and go to church if you want to save yourself.”

  “I will, I swear. Can you do anything for Miguel?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  It looks like I’m going to have to make a stop before I go home. I refuse to believe Malone is The Devil or any other kind of immortal monster, but there are things I have seen that make it hard for me to maintain my belief. I do know he is a threat to this city, and I am going to stop him whatever the cost.

  ***

  (Leo)

  “Do you have an outlet outside?” Lesile asks as she parks the car.

  “What for?”

  “I need to plug in my car.”

  “Are you serious, like a toaster?”

  “It can’t go forever without refueling, just like a regular car.”

  I point past the side of the building. “Around the corner in the back near the stairs. Just put a condom on it. I don’t want your gay car to give my house AIDS. God only knows how many strange sockets it’s plugged into.”

  Lesile rolls her eyes and moves the car around as I enter my loft. Marvin is in the corner, lit up by his computer screen. The shotgun is leaning against the table, and he flinches toward it when I come in.

  “Good news, Leo. Yuri’s people have been studying the security tapes of the fuel suppliers in the area, and he thinks they have their guys. A truck comes every two weeks and takes on a load of diesel. It’s always the same two people. Yuri looked into their paperwork and says it’s bullshit. He’s got his Hollywood guy using the images to make the masks.”

  “I better call him.” I punch in Yuri’s number. “Yuri, Marvin tells me you’re already working on the truck thing. Thanks. The council agreed to your terms by the way.”

  “I knew they would, so I got my people on it right away. You need to get to Philadelphia. These guys are smart, and they vary schedule by a couple of days. Could come maybe three days or could come tomorrow. Very small window to take truck, switch trailer, and put you inside.”

  “I’ll pass it on to the council and get down there.” Yuri gives me the address, and I call Harriet. “Yuri’s found our truck, and we need to get on station ASAP. Get your strike team in place, and have whoever is coordinating the attack meet us at the fuel distributor. Me, Marvin and Lesile will set up camp there so we’re ready to deploy in an instant.”

  “Excellent work. You are quite capable when you put your mind to it. I’m starting to understand why Vincent allows you so much leeway.”

  “My taut Italian buns?”

  Harriet sighs and hangs up. No one appreciates my baser attributes. Someone starts banging on my door with what I assume is a brick. Kat’s knocking is more delicate, so that narrows down the list of likely visitors to a determined Jehovah’s Witness or someone even less welcome.

  I swing the heavy door open. “Speak of the devil and his girlfriend shows up.”

  “Shut it, Malone,” Castillo snaps.

  “I’ve been out of town for a while, so unless you’re here with a welcome home gift, I’m a little busy.”

  “Out of town where?”

  “A quaint little beach resort on the coast of none of your fucking business. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

  “How long were you gone?”

  “Just long enough to miss your sirenesque voice.”

  “How long have you been back?”

  “Long enough to remember it was an ear-piercing police siren.”

  “Real cute, Malone.”

  “Thank you, I was just remarking on how no one appreciates my roguish good looks.” I turn and flex my butt cheeks at her. “What do you want? I really am in a hurry.”

  “There were two suspected murders in the last two nights.”

  “I’m sure there was more than that. I think Chicago alone likes to rack up at least a dozen a day.”

  “Where were you last night?”

  “Right here.”

  “Can anyone corroborate your alibi?”

  “Why do I need an alibi?”

  “I’m just checking up on some reports.”

  “I can,” Marvin says and hastens across the room.

  “Who are you?”
<
br />   “I’m Leo’s technical guy. We’ve been here the past couple days working on his alarm system and a website for his company.” He hands Castillo a business card. “I do all kinds of freelance computer and network service. If your department ever needs a computer guy, I’m your man.”

  Castillo gives Marvin a dubious look and takes the card as if it might be infected with Ebola. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind. Can anyone else place you here?”

  “I was also here,” Lesile says.

  Castillo flinches at the voice behind her but does an admirable job of not screaming and pulling her piece. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Lesile edges past the detective and squeezes through the door. “She’s a client.”

  “What kind of client?”

  “My husband is a cheating sonofabitch, and I hired Mr. Malone to catch him in the act.”

  “Cheating spouses? That seems a bit pedestrian for you, Malone.”

  I shrug. “I got bills to pay.”

  “You keep weird hours, Malone.”

  “Yeah, and you’re cutting into them. Now, do you have anything specific you want to ask, or are you just here to check up on my itinerary?”

  “Someone called in a disturbance at Prospect Park two nights ago. We found tire tracks, a discarded shoe, and blood but no body.”

  “I don’t own a car, so why are you bugging me about it?”

  “The people we questioned claim they saw what they thought was a police unit come in and clean up the scene.”

  “It sounds like you should be calling your department instead of sniffing around here.”

  “I did, but no one covered a hit and run in the area, and the cleanup was completed before any units could respond. Sound familiar?”

  “Should it?”

  Her eyes lock onto my face in search of the subtlest clue that I’m fucking with her. I don’t give her one, but we both know what she’s referring to.

  “Tonight, a kid came in beat to shit. He says one guy took out all three of them.”

 

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