“No, but I figured it might bother you. I wasn’t sure if I should mention it or not; obviously I chose to mention it.” One day soon, I won’t care about playing this game with you, Victor.
“Thank you. Like we discussed, publicly I’m your big brother. It is inevitable that people will see us together and I’m okay with that so long we never reveal who we work for.”
“Okay.
“And, I’m sure I don’t have to warn you about revealing your powers to him, right?”
“I haven’t, and all things being equal, I won’t,” Blake lied.
❖
Radoslav cleared his throat. “Did Victor tell you about captured man who killed himself like coward in my…how-to-say birou…office?” he asked, his voice sounding strained as their driver, Chappy, steered the black SUV off US Route 1 onto the Carter Street exit in Chelsea, Massachusetts. Radoslav sat in the front passenger seat and Blake sat in the back seat on the driver’s side. Even without super powers, Blake sensed Radoslav’s stress level rising—a surprising revelation for the otherwise unflinching, even-keeled personality the Romanian had mastered. Over the past ten minutes, the man had become fidgety and beads of sweat formed on his bald, tattooed head.
“Radoslav?”
“Yes?” he asked.
“You’re sweating and anxious. Calm down.” You’re making me nervous.
Radoslav gave Blake a quick glare, but nodded. Blake realized several days ago the man had decided to treat Dark Flame with respect despite Blake’s youth and inexperience with mafia and the criminal underground.
“To answer your question, no, he did not,” Blake answered.
“Okay, I was right. The man was traitor to Order.”
“You mean he was one of ours?”
“Unfortunately, yes. It happens. Traitors try to…how-to-say…sabotaj…oh, is same word…sabotage. They try to sabotage Order and stop Victor and other suits.”
Blake nodded, noting Radoslav’s understanding of his place in The Order’s hierarchy.
“Which entrance do you want?” Chappy asked. He had a higher pitched, nasally voice with a Massachusetts accent that grated on Blake.
“Use one of the side entrances,” Radoslav answered.
“Where the hell are we going, anyway?” Blake asked.
“One of the power plants on the Mystic River.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see,” Chappy chimed in. “But, I will tell you this, kid, respectfully of course.” He glanced at Radoslav, who nodded. “I’m not going in there; no fucking way. Already told Victor, too. So, this is the part where you have to pony up and protect Radoslav. They ain’t gonna like seeing him come back.”
Come back? “I take it you worked for these people once and pissed them off before you left?” Blake asked.
“You could say I found better opportunity,” Radoslav responded.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Order wanted a man with my talents, Unfortunately, my previous employer refused to release me quietly. When Order threatened him, he allowed me to leave, but promised his men would shoot on sight if I showed up again—which is what we are about to do.”
“Oh,” Blake responded. “Why exactly does The Order need people who are good at torturing people?”
“Basically, Order offered me more money to do less work. Occasionally, I will run errands and carry out important duties, but when Victor or the Archimandrite needs answers, they call me and I am happy to help.”
“What did you do for the organization we’re about to surprise? I assume they do not know we’re coming, right?” Blake asked.
“You are correct, Dark Flame.” Radoslav answered. “I was, uh, how-to-say…chirurg…” he tapped on the dashboard as his mind searched for the correct English word.
“Oh, is surgeon, or doctor. I was not like enforcers or soldiers in organization. I make big boys cry in their panties. When Big Boss thought people were snitching and going to police or skimming too much money for their pockets, I conducted, uh, how-to-say…interogatoriilor…is similar word…”
“Interrogations?” Blake offered.
“Yes, exactly. I conducted interrogations to discover truth of their crimes.”
“So, more torture?” Blake asked. That’s funny, crimes in a criminal organization…
“From certain point of view, yes.”
“What were you doing from your point of view?” Blake asked.
Radoslav chuckled and glanced at Chappy. “Smart boy. No one ever ask me that question.”
Chappy nodded but kept his eyes on the afternoon traffic.
Radoslav shifted in his seat and rested his elbow on the passenger door. “This is what I think I do: First, I believe in people I work for. I believe they are helping planet. Unfortunately, as you will see, my previous employer does bad things that only fill their pockets. Money isn’t everything, despite what most people think. Power is the real prize.”
“Isn’t money power?” Blake countered.
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. When Victor knocked on my door, I saw opportunity to make difference and stick it to Big Boss.”
“Okay.”
“From my perspective, I look for gaps, problems, anything or anyone that gets in way of mission. If they are snitches or tattle-tails, they threaten Order. If they are not pulling their weight, or if they want personal gain, they must be removed like a cancer—so I cut them out of the equation. This is why I say I am like chirurg…a surgeon.
“And you did the same thing here, in Boston?”
“Yes, but for bad people. Victor promised me that one day we will take bad people out. You will see why they need to be put down.”
Radoslav turned slightly in his seat and looked at Blake. “Maybe that day is today; I do not know. But I do know that one day there will be uh, how-to-say…socoteală…I do not know.
“A reckoning,” Chappy chimed in.
Radoslav nodded. “Is good word.”
“Why do these people need to be stopped?” Blake asked.
“You will see,” Radoslav answered.
Chappy pulled the SUV into one of the side gates and stopped the car near the backside of the power plant. Chappy put the car in park and said, “This is as far as I go. You guys will have to walk the rest of the way in.
Radoslav nodded. “Is close enough. Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”
Chappy shook his head. “No fucking way. At least this way, I’ll be able to get away if I need to.” He tapped the windshield. “Bulletproof glass.”
“I hope you’re right, but I will take my chances and stick close to him.” He jerked his thumb toward the backseat. Then, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Are you ready to go, Dark Flame?”
“Let’s get whatever this is over with,” Blake curtly answered. “And don’t worry, Radoslav, I’ve got your back.” He followed Radoslav into the power plant through a set of old, rusty doors that squeaked loudly when he wrenched them open.
So much for the element of surprise.
They walked down a dimly lit, painted cinderblock hallway that smelled of old dust and mustiness. Above them, fluorescent lights flickered as they approached a well-lit office area.
“You’re not supposed to use that door,” the red-headed woman at the desk said with a South Boston accent, flipping the page of a magazine. She glanced at them through her oversized glasses. Her head snapped up and she looked at them a second time with scrutiny. Blake saw the magazine dip as her left hand moved to the underside of the desk drawer.
“Patricia,” Radoslav said with enthusiasm and open arms. “It is good to see you again.” The woman shook her head, her face ablaze with panic. Her hand returned to the desk surface and grasped the magazine. “You’re not welcome here, Radoslav,” she said. “You better turn around before there’s trouble.”
Radoslav chuckled. “Patricia, we already know there will be trouble, but trouble will be for Big Boss.”
Blake’s super hearing detected footsteps approaching from another room behind Patricia’s desk. “Company’s coming,” he announced softly.
Radoslav nodded. “Time to make sure we don’t get hurt, Dark Flame.”
Blake smiled. “With pleasure.”
The double doors behind and to the left of Patricia’s reception desk burst open and four armed enforcers hurried through, their eyes quickly finding Blake and Radoslav. Each one aimed an assault rifle at them. Behind them, a fifth man with slicked blonde hair and a dark, five o’clock shadow strode into the reception area. He wore a sharp business suit that looked both cheap and old.
“Radoslav!” the man said with surprise.
“Hello, Armen,” Radoslav answered.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Rad? We have orders to shoot you on sight.”
“I have different orders,” Radoslav said. “I intend to show my young friend here everything Big Boss is doing.
Armen’s eyebrows furled, and he shook his head, offering Blake a passing glance. “You’re kidding, right? You know that’s not going to happen—no offense, kid. Tell you what, Rad, because I’m having a good day, why don’t you turn around and walk out of here before we shoot both you.”
“Dark Flame,” Radoslav said grimly, “would you relieve these men of their weapons?”
“I’d be happy to,” Blake answered, smirking. He stepped forward and allowed the men to shift their aim at him. Then, he raised his right hand and pulled with his mind, ripping the rifles from their unsuspecting hands. The men cried out with surprise, and Patricia gasped, paralyzed with fear.
“What the hell?”Armen exclaimed, suddenly nervous.
Blake brought the rifles around so the business end of each weapon pointed at the face of the men who once wielded them.
“You don’t need to kill them,” Radoslav said.
Armen reached into his jacket, but Blake grabbed him with his mind and thrust him back against the concrete brick wall, crushing the man’s skull in the process. His head struck the wall with a sickening crack and his body slumped to the floor, unconscious or dead. Blood poured down the wall and dripped from his eyes and nose. Patricia stifled a terrified scream when Blake pointed at her.
“Here’s the part you need to understand, Radoslav. I don’t give a fuck anymore,” Blake replied. Then, a very loud bang echoed in the room as the four rifles fired simultaneously. Radoslav jumped at the loud sound and Patricia screamed, her entire body quaking with fear. Blood and brains splattered on the walls behind the four men and their bodies pitched backward and fell to the floor. Blake released the rifles and they clattered to the floor.
Blake looked at Patricia. “If you try anything, you’re next, so sit down, shut up, and don’t move.” Wait, I have a better idea.
The woman nodded and obeyed, nervously sitting at her desk. Blake took a step toward her and pointed at the center desk area. “I assume you pressed some kind of alarm button when I saw your hand move there?”
She nodded emphatically, her tightly curled red hair bouncing with her affirmation. “Yes, I hit a silent alarm that goes to the back office. That’s why they came out here.”
“Are you armed? Do you have guns in your desk?”
She nodded again, eyeing her desk. “Yes, I have a pistol in my right top desk drawer for defense.” Her voice shook with fear.
“Thank you for your honesty,” Blake responded. “If you want to live, I don’t want to see that gun. Understand?”
“Yes, yes, I definitely want to live. I won’t do anything, I promise. I’m suddenly feeling ill, perhaps I should just…go home for the day?”
“Smart decision.” Blake answered. “But use the back door we came through, and run.”
Patricia hesitated and stared at him.
“Go now,” Blake whispered.
She scrambled and grabbed her purse from the floor and pulled her coat off the rack. Then, she hurried down the hallway, her shoes clacking on the tile floor.
“Is always good to see you, Patricia,” Radoslav said, chuckling. “Come, Dark Flame, we don’t have much time. There will be more men heading our way when Armen doesn’t check in, not to mention the rather loud gunshot you made. I want you to see the…how-to-say…fabrica ascunsă…uh…hidden factory.”
This should be interesting…a hidden factory in a power plant?
Blake followed Radoslav through the double doors into a control room of some sort. Computers and massive instrument panels with blinking lights of various colors indicated their operational status. They looked old, but not as ancient looking as the ones in the Rangeley facility’s original reactor control room.
“Keep your eyes sharp; they’ll be coming for us. Especially once we walk through this door.” Radoslav said, pointing ahead of them.
“Okay,” Blake said.
Radoslav put his hand on the door and paused. “Dark Flame, what you will see is very disturbing to young eyes, and Big Boss won’t let us leave alive once you do.”
“Understood,” Blake responded. What the hell is behind the door?
Radoslav opened the door and Blake followed him into a large, warehouse-sized multi-level factory. Blake looked up and saw suspended gangways and other ramps that provided access to the old multi-story power equipment from which workers could monitor and maintain the power processes. He lowered his eyes and observed rows of conveyor belts, each pushing objects in various states of assembly or packaging around the factory floor.
Then, his eyes set upon the one-hundred or more light blue dust mask-wearing people working the assembly lines, sitting or standing at different stations. It looked like they assisted the machinery, double checked the quality of the product, or packed boxes for shipping.
“What are they doing?” Blake asked. This is a power plant, not a factory. Something isn’t right here.
“Repackaging drugs for distribution,” Radoslav answered.
At the same time, one of the guards on the gangway above them noticed their intrusion. He cried out and aimed his weapon at them. “Alarm!”
All heads in the factory turned and searched for the problem. As eyes turned to stare at them, Blake looked at the dirt-smeared faces of the workers and saw desperation in their eyes. There were Mexicans, Asians, and other ethnicities staring back at him with elderly eyes, middle-aged eyes, and children’s eyes.
“What the fuck? They have kids making this stuff?” Blake asked, looking at his guide.
Radoslav eyed him nervously and nodded. “It’s time you looked for the guards. They’ll be…”
“Code Red! Everyone down!” a guard shouted. The factory workers screamed in a cacophony of panic and dropped to the floor. A moment later, someone gave the order to shoot. Gunfire rang out and echoed in the all-metal and concrete power plant. Blake raised his hands and caught the bullets in midair, stopping them before they could hurt Radoslav. His eyes glowed orange and Radoslav stared at the hovering bullets in wonder, stepping closer to Blake.
“I’m not going to stand for this,” Blake said loudly over the sound of the gunfire. “No one treats children like this and gets away with it. These people will pay for what they’ve done.”
Thirty seconds later the gunfire stopped, and the guards stared at them incredulously. Blake swiped his left hand across the suspended bullets and they clattered to the cement floor, the sharp pinging of metal echoing in the vast room around.
“Which one is the Big Boss?” Blake asked, his eyes tracking the guards around them.
“I do not see him.” Radoslav answered, looking around. “Big Boss is probably hiding in his office like coward.”
Blake nodded. “Fine, then we go to him. One way or the other, this ends now.”
“What will you do?” Radoslav asked.
“Watch and learn,” Blake answered. “But first, I need to take care of our new friends.”
“Fire again!” a guard yelled out. The sound of ammo magazines being changed out echoed across the factory as gu
nfire rang out again. Bullets whipped through the air and became stuck in Blake’s invisible snare. Seconds later, Blake carefully focused his powers and made a pretend gun with his right hand. Then, starting on the left side of his field of vision, he fired the bullets back with his imaginary hand gun. One by one, the guards dropped to the ground as bullets tore through their bodies. Several bloody moments later, twenty-seven criminal enforcers lay on the floor, seriously injured or dead, losing blood from returned bullets fired from their own weapons.
“How did you do that?” Radoslav asked, his face aghast.
“It’s complicated,” Blake answered. “Take me to Big Boss, now.”
Radoslav nodded and pointed to a set of stairs. “Up there.”
Blake traced the stairs up to the next level and saw a man in a light blue suit flanked by four heavily armed guards watching them from a glassed enclosure above the factory floor.
Blake and Radoslav made their way across the factory, the sound of whimpering women and children filling the air. Some of them thanked them, while others regarded Blake with fear. One of the women whispered, “Diablo,” and it made him smile.
“You should all leave,” Blake said loudly. The workers scrambled across the factory floor to the various exits in a strangely organized but panicked manner. Then, Blake led the way up to Big Boss’s office, his eyes locked through the glass windows with the eyes of the surprised and angry mob boss.
“What are you waiting for?” the man shouted to his guards. “Shoot them!”
The glass between them shattered into thousands of pieces as bullets streaked through the air. With his mind, Blake deflected the onslaught of bullets to his left and continued toward them. He wanted to use his fire powers, but he knew he would burn off the bespoke suit he was wearing. He didn’t bring a change of clothes and returning home nude might be problematic.
Blake’s eyes ignited and blazed with fiery orange fury as he reached out with his mind and grabbed the four henchmen. Then, he ripped them out of the office and pulled them through the shattered windows. They screamed as they flew through the air and fell to the other side of the factory floor.
Stunned, Big Boss dropped the pistol in his hands and backed away, terrified, until the office wall stopped him.
The Guardians Omnibus Page 54
