by Ali Vali
“Display a gun in my home, Walter, and you’d better be sure you have the stones to use it.”
“You sound like a cartoon character,” he said, and laughed.
“I’m not threatening you.” She wasn’t armed, so she widened her stance in case she had to run for cover. “But just like I know you and what you’re capable of, you have to have some idea of how this will end if you don’t back down.”
“You’re telling me you’re not scared?”
“You should be asking yourself what kind of life I think this will be if an asshole is knocking on my door less than three months out. There are worse things than death.” She felt naked, but it wasn’t the time to back down. “Do we understand each other?”
“I thought you military types were brimming over with respect.” Walter laid his hand over the barrel but didn’t move to put it away.
“I’m retired.”
He laughed again and slowly holstered the weapon, then raised his hands. “I’m only trying to explain how urgent this is, and that the job isn’t voluntary.”
“I haven’t turned you down, so back off and stop telling me how to do my job. And don’t show up here again unless Don’s with you.” She moved to the elevator with him and walked him out, not trusting him alone anywhere in the building. Walter had a problem, and it was big enough that he could barely contain his desperation. Pombo was a badass, but Walter’s hounding meant that whatever the jailed drug lord hadn’t said yet was his trump card.
Her cell rang as she rode back to the fourth floor, but she was expecting this interruption. “Take the shuttle to the Delta terminal, then the escalator down to baggage claim. Once you’re there, walk down the long hallway past the main carousels to the third set of doors. That route should shake off any ticks you might’ve picked up. If you did, call me back so we can fumigate before you infest all of us.”
Only one door was shut down the hall to the guest rooms, but the second room she passed had an open suitcase on the bed. “You both can come out now,” she said after she tapped on the door.
“Everything okay?” Aubrey asked.
“Some things are easier to take care of with a high-powered rifle, but I have to have more willpower than that.” She looked past Aubrey to Tanith, who sat playing some sort of gaming device. “I have to go out for a couple of hours, so I’m setting the alarm. Please stay inside and don’t use any phone.”
“When you come back, do you think we can talk? There’s so much I want to tell you.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations. I didn’t give you much of a choice but to find a new life. Who and what you did with that freedom isn’t my business, and I’ll never judge you.”
Aubrey nodded and wrapped her fingers around Wiley’s arm. “I was so angry for so long about so many things I didn’t understand, but I tried to make peace with it. I’d like for you to listen while I talk, and while you don’t in any way owe me, when we talk I want you to pretend none of this happened. Do you think you can do that?”
“We were good at pretend games when we were children under that tree, but we’re all grown-up now.”
“I just want to talk to you without you thinking I’m doing it so you’ll keep us from getting killed.”
“Fair enough.” She took a step back in a need to put distance between them. History was a fucking bitch that taught lessons like an abusive parent who beat the shit out of you until you snapped or bent to their will. Aubrey was teaching her that she couldn’t have everything she wanted, even if the heavens opened up and showed her who and what would make her life complete.
Wiley still feared the reasons she’d had to leave Aubrey behind, but at night when she slept, her dreams didn’t replay the painful memories. Unconsciousness only revealed the times she’d put her hands on Aubrey because she’d been desperate for her touch, and how hard she’d worked to make her smile. Those moments were as seared into her brain as the lessons the army had taught, different as night and day, but both an integral part of her.
“We have plenty of time for that before you go back to your life,” Wiley said, and turned to leave before she dropped to her knees and begged Aubrey’s forgiveness.
She’d been an excellent soldier because she could always adapt and change her plan in real time in the field. That talent was rooted in experience and knowing her limitations. None of that had mattered when she’d shared time with Aubrey. Those were the only times in her life that she’d set herself adrift and floated on the feelings Aubrey intensified in her. She’d been able to drag herself through a life without that and without Aubrey. No way could she repeat the process and keep her sanity.
There was no going back. Not willingly. Not for any promise of reward. Not to heal. Not ever. The price was too great.
Chapter Nine
Nunzio lay on his back and scrubbed his face with his hand, trying to wipe away the lethargy that never truly disappeared after he watched Kim drop to the floor dead. He’d stayed long enough after the mob boss, Cain Casey, had run out the door like the devil himself was chasing her, to watch the blood pool spread around Kim like a death halo.
He’d fled alone and run to his grandfather when Remi and Ramon Jatibon, the heads of one of the other families, left the scene. After everything Kim had meant to him, that he hadn’t buried her still brought him a sense of shame, but he wasn’t about to ask either Casey or the Jatibons what happened to her body. The time for vengeance, not only for Kim but for his father, was coming, but he wasn’t ready yet.
The actions of that day and the battle he faced afterward gave his wife her excuse to leave. She demanded only two things when she told him to get out, and he’d given in, over the objections of his grandfather and mother. He wrote her a large check and agreed to stay away from their daughters. Had they had to hash it out in court, his ex-wife would have negotiated the amount of the check, but not the children. In her opinion they were still young enough for the Luca name not to taint them. Casey and the Jatibons had to make up for that loss also.
Tracy and infrequent updates on his two little girls were all he had of the life before he watched Kim bleed out. Unlike then, he kept the most recent picture he’d gotten of his daughters in a frame next to his bed, to remind him of everything Casey had taken away from him. Everything he’d built from that day took him one step closer to getting it all back, with the exception of his ex-wife. Like Cain, the day would come for her to pay for the humiliation they’d piled on him.
“Are you awake?” Tracy asked softly from the other side of the closed door.
She was young, but she’d kept him sane and provided him with the sense that he mattered to someone. Once everything was on track he’d set her up somewhere doing whatever she wanted for the loyalty she’d given him.
He got up and put his pants on before answering the door. Tracy was dressed and ready to go out, but waited to have breakfast with him. That never changed no matter what was happening. She handed him a cup of coffee before she went to uncover the room-service dishes.
“Mitch called an hour ago and said there might be movement on what you wanted,” Tracy said as she poured raisins and nuts into the bowl of oatmeal she’d ordered.
“What’d you tell him?”
“That you still weren’t interested, even if the first shipment was free.” That was exactly what he’d said the night before.
“When did Mitch’s supposed boss want to meet?” The steak she’d ordered him was almost tender enough to cut with his fork and made him smile. Tracy delivered everything he liked.
“He said he was working on it, but his guy doesn’t see a need. Mitch told him you wouldn’t move ahead without a meeting and asked if you’d be patient until tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“He’ll have an answer one way or the other.” Tracy stopped to take a bite and a deep breath. That was the giveaway that she had more, and whatever it was, he might not like it. “While I was waiting I made some calls on your behalf.
”
“Did I ask you to do that?” He cut up the rest of his meat and mixed it with his eggs and hash browns.
“No, but I know what’s coming.” She pushed her bowl away and picked up the large glass of juice. She held it like she was trying to hide behind it.
“I don’t like playing twenty questions right after I open my eyes, so tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”
“These last few months have been charity for what happened to Kim, but you didn’t need to take care of me because of that.”
Nunzio slammed his utensils down and pointed at her so fast she flinched as if he might hit her. “You should be thanking me for keeping you alive, not giving me shit.” His anger had risen so quickly he could hear his heartbeat in his ears.
“I don’t blame you for what happened, and I’m doing my best to prove to you that I belong here. Please see that I’m not some little kid before you dump me somewhere for what you think is my own good.” She had gotten up and knelt next to his chair. “Last night should’ve proved it to you, but if you need to hear it—I want to stay.”
“Tracy,” he said, his voice raspy. “You’re young and smart. You don’t need this. You have a choice, and that’s what Kim wanted for you. I’ve got plenty of scores to settle before I head off to Florida to play golf with Papa.”
“That’s what Kim wanted, but I want to stay with you.” She moved one hand up his thigh and placed the other at the center of his naked chest. “She was my sister, and I want to help you avenge her death.”
He’d been dead inside for months, only moments of fear and indecision breaking the cycle, but Tracy’s touch was like an electric shock to his system. She must’ve seen something in his eyes since her hand went even higher on his leg. “You can’t want this.”
“I know what I want.” She rubbed her palm over his erection through his pants. “I got us another meeting with someone else for tonight.” Her touch became firmer and faster. “But right now I want to show you what an asset I can be.”
It had been so long, but this was not a good idea. Tracy was Kim’s sister, and he’d made a promise to watch out for her, not fuck her.
“You’re all I have, Nunzio,” she said as she stood and started shedding her clothes. “And I want to be with you even if you send me away.”
She reached to open his pants when he stood, but stopped when he placed his hands over hers. The expression on her face undid him and he released his hold. It was time for him to start over, and with Tracy he’d finally get it right. She’d be a partner who’d embrace every aspect of his life and watch his back.
“Come on,” he said, and held out his hand. When Tracy accepted it, he led her toward his bedroom.
The rest could wait, especially Mitch, since the closer they got to the bed, the lighter he felt. It was time to have something to be happy about, and Tracy was the quickest and most convenient way of achieving that.
*
Wiley cranked the old bike, wanting to exit without having to open the large garage door. She didn’t worry about anyone following her as she headed for her first stop. The grocery was not only a necessity if they didn’t want to live on peanut butter, but that’s where she’d flush out the people Walter would most likely have sent. She was willing to bet on it.
Walter had assigned her a target that, up to that point, he was the only one pushing to terminate. So, until Don and his superiors gave the go-ahead, Walter had to shift his priorities in a new direction. If she gave him an opening to trap her, he wouldn’t hesitate to bypass the brass to get her to do his bidding. Once she did, she’d belong to Walter until one of them was dead.
She found a parking spot close to the door, wore her helmet inside, then placed it in a cart and moved quickly to the back. Anyone following her was probably laughing at her amateurish attempt to ditch them. At the end of the aisle she took a left and headed to the end of the meat display, which was well out of sight from the row she’d picked.
The two men in the aisle she’d come down, and the other guy one over, came close to having their shoes screech when they abruptly stopped. They split up and, the second they saw her standing there, seemed desperate to find something to focus on. Her back was to them, but the mirrored panels that separated the refrigerated section from the butcher’s work area were perfect for the initial trap she’d had in mind.
Once she’d made brief eye contact without turning around, she started placing items in her cart like she’d noticed them but didn’t realize why they were there. It was humorous to see how much they seemed to relax when she didn’t glance at them again.
For the next hour she walked through the store, mentally filling her pantry with everything from staples to bottles of wine for the cooler she’d installed in the kitchen. When she was done she’d filled almost three carts, the third—which wasn’t stacked as high as the others—she left almost in the spot where she’d started. The moment she lifted her helmet out of the space built to carry a child, her three shadows tensed. She’d had the choice of three markets close to her building to pick from, but this one had one difference that made it perfect.
The aluminum swinging doors led not only to the section of the warehouse used to store produce and bakery items, but to where the bathrooms were located. She didn’t know if these guys had done the same reconnaissance she had, and even if they had, they couldn’t take the chance to let her disappear.
The warehouse was cool, but ten degrees warmer than the store, and dim from the few overhead lights and lack of windows. Boxes were piled on large, tall, sturdy shelves, and the smell of cardboard made her nose tingle. If any of the employees were back here they were being extremely quiet, which was great since she wanted these guys out of commission for at least an hour. She climbed the second shelf stacked with boxes of toilet paper.
“Spread out,” the tallest of the men said, and pointed to his left and right as soon as they cleared the door. Each of them took out a gun. Use of force told her that Walter had taken off the gloves. When someone did, he was either stupid or desperate. After spending more than twenty minutes with him, she hadn’t ruled out that Walter could win a contest on both counts.
She waited until the smallest of the three passed her position before she moved. With one last fan of her fingers to get a better grip on her helmet, she jumped down and connected with the bottom of his jaw when she swung her headgear like she was fast-pitching a softball. When the guy dropped she was already running toward the back of the row. The silence in the place would work against her now, but most people in this situation never expected her to come right at them. The sudden adrenaline rush was small, part fear and mostly excitement. This part of her job never got old.
The second guy toward the back got his gun about a fourth of the way up before she hit his hand first, then came back up with the helmet again. When he went down she moved to the top of the shelf next to her and waited. She needed to center herself and figure out where the team leader was.
He seemed to be the most experienced of the three since he didn’t make a sound. But suddenly a kid walked through the door with a dolly.
“Get lost,” the guy screamed, and she saw his gun come up when he pointed at the stock boy. The crash of the dolly echoed through the space and then the doors swung closed. Unless the kid ran all the way home with a damp pair of jeans, he was alerting someone about the armed maniac in the back. She had only a small window to finish this without shooting an agent of the federal government.
Don had taught her to use whatever was available to come out on top. She smiled as she took a can of peas out of one of the boxes on the shelf under her. With about twenty feet between them she tried for his hand, hoping that even if she missed she could distract him. She started moving when the can left her hand and was on him before he could reach his gun, which had slid under the bottom of the shelf closest to them.
She landed on his back and put him in a sleeper hold, even though he was swinging back at her, landing a
few blows. It didn’t take long for him to be out cold, and she rushed to drag him toward a dark corner and zip-tie him to one of the pipes coming from the ceiling. She emptied his pockets, interested in the leather box inside his jacket. The vial with no markings and the syringe moved Walter to the top of her list, and he wouldn’t like the attention. Whatever was in the bottle would’ve been her ticket to Mexico, where not even a case of tequila would’ve helped her hangover.
“Thanks for the head start, asshole. And, Walter, I’m going to teach you the meaning of ‘voluntary assignment.’ After you went to so much trouble I’m almost curious now to hear what Mr. Pombo’s side of the story is.” She filled the syringe and injected his neck. Before company arrived, she repeated the process with the other two. As she walked to the swinging doors she dismantled their guns, spreading the pieces throughout the space, and threw their wallets into the toilet and flushed. Once she finished her housekeeping, she strolled back into the store to pay for her purchases and arrange for a delivery to the building.
She didn’t know if anyone was waiting outside, so she left out of the back loading bay and strode to the business next door. The rental car she’d ordered was waiting with the keys under the back passenger tire. She took her time driving to the airport, staying on River Road as long as possible before she cut over a major thoroughfare to the interstate.
During all the days and nights she’d spent in nests around the world holding a high-powered rifle and waiting for the order to pull the trigger, she’d tried her best to keep her mind clear. Aubrey had always been the crack in her discipline, and she’d thought about her often as she kept her target in sight. No amount of imagining what happened next could’ve come close to this. Any hope of a quiet retirement, accepting the commissions she wanted both in art and for her other skill set, had disappeared. These assholes and Aubrey showing up like this held her peace of mind like she’d held Jerry’s balls and dropped them into a shredder, but perhaps she deserved it after what she’d put Aubrey through.
