Paradise Burns

by J. P. Sumner

  I know she’s not on my side, but it’ll be really funny when she catches up to us.

  ‘Jimmy,’ I said, my smile fading. ‘I told you to leave this alone. In fact, I explicitly told you I’d kill you if I saw you again.’

  He said nothing, but reached into the other side of his jacket and produced some papers, which I recognized instantly as the deeds to the land from my hotel room.

  ‘Let’s start with you explaining why you lied to me,’ he said, nodding to the papers.

  I stared at them for a moment, not saying anything. So it was the mob who raided my room and shot Clara. I needed a minute to let my anger subside. If I wasn’t in a moving vehicle, Jimmy would already be dead. As it was, now wasn’t the time or the place to rip his throat out.

  ‘Like I told you and your boss last night,’ I said. ‘You’re in way over your head here. The best thing you can do is walk away. Whatever money you believe you’ve lost as a result of all this, you can easily recoup elsewhere.’

  He said nothing.

  ‘Now let me ask you a question,’ I said. ‘Was it you personally who broke into my room?’

  Manhattan smiled.

  ‘You’re wondering if I pulled the trigger and shot your girlfriend?’ he said. It was more of a statement than a question. ‘How touching.’

  ‘You’re on thin fucking ice, Jimmy. I suggest you tread carefully.’

  ‘We don’t intimidate easily, Mr. Hell, as I’m sure you can understand. Besides, you’re hardly in any kind of position right now to be threatening anyone.’

  I looked behind him out of the back window and saw the single headlight of a motorcycle slowly gaining on us.

  ‘How do you figure that?’ I asked.

  ‘I have the deeds to the land for Mr. Pellaggio, which I managed to obtain without having to pay you a cent. Your girlfriend has been shot and is currently lying in a hospital bed somewhere. After seeing what was left of that bar earlier, I can only assume you’ve managed to get on the bad side of a few other people along the way.’ He paused, seemingly for effect. ‘Stop me if I’ve missed anything.’

  ‘Actually, yeah, you’ve forgotten one thing.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Those other people I pissed off? Right now, they’re more pissed at you than me.’

  His eyes narrowed slightly with a mixture of concern and doubt. I continued.

  ‘And I’m the only one who can tell you why. Do you wanna know?’

  ‘Enlighten me,’ he said.

  I figured now was as good a time as any to introduce him to the rest of the players on the pitch.

  ‘You ever heard of Dark Rain?’ I asked.

  ‘Should I have?’ he replied.

  I shrugged.

  ‘I guess not. They’re an independent military outfit based somewhere in Heaven’s Valley. Ted Jackson’s company is funding them. He was going to sell that land to you on the side to make some money for himself. But then, by pure chance, GlobaTech ordered him to broker a deal to sell the land to Dark Rain. That’s why he screwed you over.’

  ‘I don’t care about any militia outfit. Roberto Pellaggio runs this entire city, and owns half of it. They’re of no concern to us.’

  ‘Yet again, you underestimate the game you’re playing, Jimmy.’

  Before Manhattan could speak, Stan came over the intercom to announce we’d arrived wherever we were heading to.

  ‘Get out, nice and slow,’ he said when the car came to a stop.

  I opened the door and stepped out. As I stood up, Stan appeared at the side of me and hit me flush on the side of the head with a big straight left. It took me by surprise more than anything, but given the beating I’ve taken over the last twenty-four hours, it was enough to drop me to one knee. He reached behind me and took my guns away. Then he grabbed me by the neck and dragged me back to my feet.

  I looked around. I didn’t recognize where I was. We had to have been close to the city limits. There were no buildings to be seen, just desert and the silhouette of the mountains in the distance. In front of us was a large area, with the beginnings of a construction site forming on it. There was a digger parked over to the left, and straight ahead was one of those portable cabins that they use as an office. Far back on the right was a large billboard that had yet to have a picture placed on it.

  I quickly glanced around, but saw no signs of the motorcycle. It was definitely Salikov. It worried me that she’d disappeared.

  Manhattan got out of the other side of the limo and walked round. He still had his gun in his right hand and the deeds in his left.

  ‘Here we are,’ he said as stood next to me. ‘This is what you were seemingly so desperate to keep from us.’

  He waved the deeds at me and walked on ahead. Stan’s hand was still on my neck and he forced me forward, following Manhattan in the direction of the cabin.

  My headache had returned with reinforcements thanks to that punch from Stan. But it still clicked where we were.

  I was walking on a uranium mine.

  THIRTY

  They sat me down in front of the desk in the portable cabin and tied my hands behind me. This was nowhere near as much fun when you’re the one sat in the chair.

  I looked around. The cabin was almost empty, save for the desk I was sat at and a notice board on the left hand wall. There was a window in the right hand wall.

  Stan was stood to my left and Manhattan sat on the corner of the desk in front of me. He had a gun in his hand, although he wasn’t aiming it at me. He must have been trying to intimidate me.

  When will these people learn?

  ‘I’m almost offended that you’ve only brought Donkey Kong over here with you for backup,’ I said to him, gesturing toward Stan with my head. ‘Especially given I’ve already handed his ass to him once this week.’

  I turned to Stan and smiled.

  He unleashed a big right hand that caught be square on my left cheek.

  Man, that hurt!

  My head was in a spin, and my brain was shouting at me to stop getting hit.

  I laughed.

  ‘Come on, asshole,’ I said, goading him. ‘This isn’t a tickling competition. Give me a shot that doesn’t feel like it came from a girl scout.’

  He wound up his right hand again, and I was fairly sure it would take my head off if it connected.

  ‘Enough,’ Manhattan said. ‘We want him alive long enough to get what we need. Then he’s all yours.’

  Stan smiled at me. I threw him a dismissive look with my eyebrows that clearly said whatever, dickhead.

  I looked back at Manhattan.

  ‘So, what now? You going to threaten me some more?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said.

  He reached over the desk and opened the top drawer. He pulled out what looked like a medical kit. It was a small, green bag with a zipper going all the way round. He placed it on the desk in front of me and opened it up. Inside was an array of stainless steel surgical equipment - all of which looked very sharp.

  ‘I’m going to ask you, very nicely, to explain to me everything that’s happened since we first spoke a couple of days ago. You’re going to leave nothing out, and you’re going to take particular care when telling me why you kept the deeds for this land to yourself.’

  I eyed the surgical blades on the table. This probably wasn’t going to go too well for me. There’s no way Jimmy Manhattan was a qualified surgeon, which means he won’t have the dexterity to handle those blades with care and precision. This was going to be ugly, and it was going to hurt.

  But that’s okay. I can take it. I reckon I’ve been through worse.

  And there’s no way I’m telling the mafia that we’re currently sat on top of the only natural uranium deposit in North America!

  ‘Jimmy,’ I said. ‘I say this with all the love and respect I can: you’re a dick. You have absolutely no idea of the trouble you’re in. And that’s in addition to how pissed off I am at you. If you go down this road, you will cross
people who can turn your entire organization to ashes in minutes.’

  With a speed not becoming of someone his age, Manhattan reached over and grabbed one of the steel blades and lashed out toward me. The blade stopped about a quarter inch below my left eye. The tip was touching my skin. Not enough pressure to draw blood, but enough that you knew it was there.

  I stayed calm and still, despite my shock at how quickly that had happened.

  ‘I could turn you into a memory with a flick of my wrist,’ said Manhattan. ‘So keep your advice and your idle threats to yourself.’

  I looked down at the blade, then back at Manhattan. His old eyes were cold and unblinking. I’d pushed him as far as he was willing to be pushed.

  ‘As I’ve said,’ I began. ‘Dark Rain has a working relationship with GlobaTech Industries. Ted Jackson was in town selling this land to them because of that relationship. I fully appreciate your view on things, but I’m the only one who does. Dark Rain doesn’t care about you, or Pellaggio. They just want their land back. They feel they have just as a valid a claim on it as you do.’

  Without a word, Manhattan pressed the blade further into my skin and slowly sliced down, opening up a cut on my face running from my eye to my jaw.

  I couldn’t help it. I screamed through gritted teeth as the pain flashed through me. My face felt cold and numb, countered by the warmth of my blood pulsing from the wound and running down my face.

  ‘Answer my goddamn question!’ he yelled. ‘What is it about this land that they want? What are they planning?’

  He placed the blade against me once again, but this time it was my throat. He wasn’t quite piercing my skin, but he was as close as he could be without drawing blood. I instinctively tilted my head back and began breathing shallow, in an attempt to alleviate the pressure of the blade on my throat.

  I couldn’t tell him the real reason, but right now, I couldn’t think of a good enough lie.

  I closed my eyes. I don’t know if I did it to try and think clearer for a lie to give him, or whether, in that moment, I accepted my fate and simply didn’t want to see the final flick of his wrist. Either way, it didn’t matter. Before anyone could say or do anything else, we heard tires on the gravel outside. Lots of them. Manhattan stood up and looked through the blinds at the window on my right.

  ‘Who the hell are these guys?’ he said to me, moving over to the window. ‘Friends of yours?’

  I smiled. About time.

  ‘Black Humvees?’ I asked, relieved to no longer have a blade at my throat.

  ‘Four of them,’ he replied.

  I laughed out loud, prompting both Manhattan and Stan to look at each other quizzically, then at me.

  Party time.

  THIRTY-ONE

  I looked at Stan, who had drawn both of my Berettas and was currently holding them, ready for action.

  ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Use your own guns.’

  He ignored me, seemingly too bothered by how concerned his boss was getting. I found it all highly amusing.

  ‘Jimmy, you remember what Dark Rain did to the bar I was sat in when they came after me, right?’

  He looked at me, the concern giving way to something more potent. Fear.

  ‘All the crime families in the world can’t protect you now,’ I said. ‘But I can.’

  ‘How?’ he asked, his jaw muscles clenched in frustration.

  ‘Untie me and give me my guns. You guys don’t even register on their radar. All they’re concerned about is this land. And killing me, seeing as I made Clara betray them.’

  We heard car doors opening, and the crunch of boot on gravel. Then we heard the unmistakable double crunch sound of weapons being cocked.

  I turned to Stan.

  ‘Untie me now, or we’re all going to die,’ I said, with more urgency.

  Stan looked at Manhattan, who nodded. He bent down to untie me. I stood up, rubbing each of my wrists in turn to get some feeling back in them.

  ‘Now give me my guns,’ I said.

  He hesitated, but one look from Jimmy and he handed them over.

  ‘Now what?’ asked Manhattan.

  ‘Now you keep quiet and let me handle this. They’re after me, not you.’

  ‘Why are you helping me, after what I’ve just done to you?’

  ‘An outstanding question. Look, I’m no master strategist. I simply do what I can to survive. I’m a fighter, and right now my fight isn’t with you - despite the fact you’re trying to pick one with me. Be grateful and leave me the hell alone. You’re the only person I’ve ever warned twice. Take heed, as there won’t be a third time. Understand?’

  Before he could say anything, a voice boomed from outside.

  ‘Adrian Hell!’ The voice had a thick, Russian accent. It was really deep, and reminded me of the guy from the Flash Gordon movie in the eighties with the beard and the wings. I loved that movie as a kid.

  It definitely wasn’t Natalia anyway. I’m guessing it was the leader that Clara told me about: Colonel Ketranovich.

  I looked out the window. There were four Humvees parked with their doors open. Stood in front of them were twelve armed soldiers, all dressed in black. Stood slightly in front of the soldiers was Natalia Salikov. She was on the right of three people. The one in the middle had to be Ketranovich, their Colonel. I’d never seen the guy on the left before, but he looked familiar. I figured he must be important, or he’d be stood with the rest of the grunts.

  Everyone except for the Colonel had assault rifles, which were all aimed at the cabin.

  I sighed. This has been a really shitty week.

  The Colonel spoke again.

  ‘Adrian Hell, come out of there, unarmed, and I promise you we will not shoot.’

  Yeah, right.

  Still, I didn’t really have a choice. There was no cover in here, and if they opened fire, this cabin - along with everyone inside it - would be decimated within seconds.

  I turned to Manhattan.

  ‘You want to get out of here?’ I asked.

  ‘There’s no reason why I won’t,’ he replied. ‘You just said yourself, their issue isn’t with me.’

  ‘You’re right, it’s not. But they had no issues with anybody in that bar either, but that didn’t stop them killing everyone.’

  He thought about that for a moment. Then asked:

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘The deeds to this land,’ I said. ‘It’s the only reason they’re here, and it’s my only bargaining chip.’

  ‘You can kiss my ass, Adrian. You’re not having them.’

  In response, I raised my gun and put a bullet right between Stan’s eyes. His head snapped back and has body flew against the wall and slid to the floor, leaving a deep crimson trail behind it. The gunshot was loud inside the cabin, and the muzzle flash was bright. I heard agitation and the movement of weapons from outside. I had to act fast.

  I pointed my gun at Manhattan.

  ‘I have a million reasons to shoot you, and hardly any not to,’ I said. ‘Give me the deeds.’

  He slowly reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the papers, which I took off him. I placed them in my back pocket, then slammed the butt of my pistol into Jimmy’s nose, sending him sprawling to the floor. He lay there, looking up at me holding his presumably broken nose, his eyes wide in a mixture of shock and fear. I took aim at his head.

  ‘We aren’t done, Jimmy. I’ve got big plans for you, my friend,’ I said. ‘In the meantime, if you wanna get out of here, you’re gonna have to trust me.’

  I aimed just to the right of his head and put a bullet through the floor.

  He held his breath as his eyes rolled in silent relief. I knelt down beside him.

  ‘Be seeing you soon,’ I whispered.

  Then I slammed the butt of my gun down hard onto left temple, knocking him out cold.

  I put both pistols back in their holster, wiped the blood from my face as best I could using my sleeve, picked up my bag - which had been thrown be
hind the desk – and put it over both shoulders, then walked to the door.

  I touched the cut on my face, which was bleeding steadily. That’s gonna scar like a bitch.

  I took a deep breath to compose myself. I must admit, I prefer not having much more than a vague outline of a plan. Any significant amount of detail and you felt compelled to stick to it as best you can, which means you sometimes lose sight of the big picture. Not seeing everything clearly in front of you can be a costly, and sometimes deadly, mistake.

  Luckily for me, right now I had no fucking clue what I was about to do.

  When in doubt, improvise.

  ‘I’m coming out,’ I shouted. ‘I’m unarmed.’

  I opened the door and stepped out to face the firing squad.

  THIRTY-TWO

  The moon had risen and was bright and clear in the night sky, bathing the whole area in a pale, white glow. I stepped out onto the gravel, my arms out to the sides like a cross and my palms open.

  ‘Get your men to lower their weapons,’ I said. ‘We can sort this without any more violence or bloodshed.’

  I thought I’d try the diplomatic approach first. It rarely works, but it buys me more time.

  Ketranovich laughed.

  ‘You have some balls, Adrian Hell, I give you that,’ he said.

  He motioned for his troops to lower their guns, which they all did. Apart from Natalia. She kept hers trained on me the whole time. Our paths had crossed before, and she knew better, it would seem.

  And she was right. If it came to it, I could have both pistols drawn and the first bullets fired in less than two seconds. You can be damn sure I’d take out Ketranovich and Salikov before I was cut in half my machine gun fire. I’d count that as a victory as well. If you cut off the head, most organizations like this will simply crumble.

  But let’s try and remain optimistic and hope it doesn’t come to that, yeah? I have no fear of dying, but I also have no wish to do so any time soon.

  Roman Ketranovich was an impressive man. He was tall, with short graying hair and dark eyes. He was wearing a green vest and camouflage pants. His arms were covered in tattoos, and were huge - his muscles toned by years of combat and killing. He had a scar down his cheek. I wondered if I’d have one similar now, thanks to Jimmy Manhattan and his scalpel.