I thought about standing next to Lynn during her treatment of Diego Reyes. “I hate to tell you this, partner, but I found out today I’m probably only a few feet from Lynn on that plain, separated only by imagination. Anyway… thanks, we could use you down there with us. What’s this new discovery of yours?”
That’s when Tommy leaned forward, holding out his bottle for a toast. I accommodated him. “I’m back on board as your manager. I started feeling guilty about being such a pussy. Then I went to work on the videos we have of all the Rattler fights. It hit me while thinking about our training with the pole poke. When you weren’t allowed to yank Lynn into the Bay, you started whipping over chopping the pole off with that hell-a-fast knife-hand strike. I know it’s tough to use it in the UFC, because it takes an extra split second to deliver because of the arc necessary. We’re going to shorten your arc just like you do to chop the pole. Until you sawed our poke pole into pieces, I never believed it was possible.”
Damn it! No way. “You’re fired as my manager! Period. I take back the toast.”
“It’s back in the Bay for you, meat!”
“I don’t take orders from strangers. Sorry, do I know you? I don’t think so. Get out of my house… right now.”
Tommy enjoyed the hell out of my protestations. He pointed at me. “I know you’re meeting with Rattler and Fiialkov tomorrow. I know you’re dopey enough to sign on for a rematch. I’m going to make sure you don’t die doing it.”
“I’d rather be dead than go back in the Bay.”
“Fine. Leave Lora to raise Al without a husband and father, you unfeeling cracker!”
I pointed at him with my most frightening Cheeseburger face. “Don’t you dare play the family card on me. I ain’t going into the Bay again except on the deck of a boat.”
“You’ll do what I tell you to do, Cheese!”
We had a stare off, but then T did his Denzel Washington face, and I lost. I let my head drop to the table top – the agony of defeat.
“Look at the bright side, meat. We’ll go back to using wooden poles instead of metal ones. You’ll love that freedom of the seas once again. I know your cuddly finned friends will be glad to have you back jogging the waves with them.”
I didn’t lift my head. “Wonderful.”
“What time should I pick you up for our pre-fight meeting with Rattler?”
“Noon,” I said with my head still down. “Call first. I’m thinking of jumping into the Bay tomorrow… from the Golden Gate Bridge.”
* * *
Tommy and I arrived at The Warehouse a little early. Marla didn’t work Sundays, so I was surprised when we walked in, and she was behind the bar. Their brunch crowd had half the dining area full, but Alexi must have reserved a table, because Marla rushed right around to guide us toward a large table set up for oversize customers. It had a bit more space around it.
“Hi Cheese,” Marla said, taking my arm while leading us to our seats. “Mr. Fiialkov called ahead. We’re all excited you’re meeting with Rattler here, but I thought I told you there would be no rematch.”
“I tried that, Mar,” Tommy said. “The big dummy won’t listen, but I have a plan to keep him alive. He’s also giving me a hard time about that too.”
Marla smacked me in the back of the head. “You listen to Tommy, Cheese. He’s your manager. I like you alive. Stay that way.”
We sat down where directed after my physical upbraiding by our waitress. “I fired Tommy, but he doesn’t listen. Maybe with a witness it will get through to him. You’re fired, T.”
“You guys! What do you want to drink?”
“I’m driving, Mar,” Tommy told her. “Bring Cheese the Bud and Beam brothers. I’ll have whatever you’re allowing me to drink today that’s nonalcoholic. I’ll do the negotiating during our business meeting.”
“Rat poison it is,” Marla retorted, heading for the bar.
She delivered our drinks only moments later. “I decided on a Diet Pepsi for you, Tommy, since I need you around to keep Cheese alive.”
“Thank you, Mrs.”
Marla pointed at me warningly. “You start listening to Tommy.”
I held up the brothers. “These will help a little, Mar, but no guarantees.”
“Our date’s here,” Tommy said.
Marla looked toward the entrance as we did, watching Alexi Fiialkov and a well-dressed Eugene Comings walk through the entrance. A smaller dark haired man in a brown suit accompanied Fiialkov and Comings. The crowd was used to me, but the arrival of a UFC superstar ignited more than a little excited conversation amongst the regulars. A couple of the guys engaged Rattler to get autographs, which Eugene gave with a smile. He looked huge in the dark pinstriped suit he wore with black tie, especially next to a couple of normal sized Oakland cops. Alexi waved at us, while Marla remained at the table to take drink orders. I had already sipped my Beam brother down to nothing, and was in the process of draining the other brother when they arrived at our table. Tommy and I stood up. We had dressed casually, but with slacks and sweaters, so we didn’t look bad. Eugene held out his hand to me.
“Hard Case. I am happy to meet you outside of the cage or that prefight weigh-in circus.” He managed to talk very well even with his jaw wired shut. “You are healing well.”
He had a good solid short timed grip. I noticed his ear was looking very good, considering the way it was on fight night. He had taken much less of a pounding, so other than his jaw, Eugene looked good. “I’m doing okay. You can call me John. My friends have been calling me Hamburger and Cheeseburger after what you did to my face… Cheese for short.”
He and his manager enjoyed my nickname very much. “Call me Gene. This is my manager, Conrad Bueller.”
I shook hands with Bueller, and gestured at Tommy. “My partner, Tommy Sands.”
Tommy shook hands with Gene and Conrad before we all sat down. The trio ordered coffee. I held up my empty brothers, and Marla nodded. She called over another waitress to fill the coffee orders while she went back to get my Bud and Beam refills.
“You are drinking this afternoon, Cheese,” Gene observed.
“This is a friendly meeting, Gene. My partner Tommy will be listening very closely. He makes the business decisions. Don’t worry. I promise I won’t get sloppy.”
“You are taking this meeting lightly. I hope you are serious in our discussions.”
Marla and her assistant brought the drinks and served them. I didn’t want to upset my new friends unnecessarily by speaking in front of the waitresses so I waited. I sipped the Beam and then a quarter of my Bud. “Believe me, Gene, I will be taking a serious part in the discussions. I will not shortchange you.”
“Very well. Mr. Fiialkov has probably explained we wish to discuss the possibility of a rematch. Because of the intensity of our last fight, we are guaranteed a spot in the next Mandalay Bay UFC fight hosting. Would you consider fighting me again, John?”
“Certainly. You speak very well. I am sorry about the jaw, Gene. How much time will you need to rehab it? Does the Mandalay Bay officials have a date in mind?”
“I am already training again now. We believe there will be a UFC Mandalay Bay fight ticket in February. I know you did not know the round had ended. The noise level was incredible. I played to the crowd like a fool, John. We both know you would have been stopped in the second but for my idiotic showboating.”
“Now wait a minute…” Tommy interjected, but I put a hand on his shoulder, shaking my head.
“He’s probably right, T. Man, did you kick my ass in that first round.”
“You really played me doing that dance for the cameras before the last round. I knew I needed only to stick and move, but you got in my head with the dance.”
“Yeah, he did,” Tommy agreed. “You looked like your head would explode watching the monitors. You two really got it on. The crowd loved it.”
“I will not showboat in the rematch, John. If you fight, I am going to hurt you badly. You are no
t one to give up. I know I will have to beat you into submission.”
I grinned. “Yeah… you will, Gene.”
“Then you will never be the same after the rematch. I like you. I wish it could be otherwise, but because of the knockout after fight’s end, I must show the fans the Rattler is best.”
“Good enough,” Tommy said. “Let’s talk money. Mr. Fiialkov, do you have an idea how the split will be?”
“Conrad here would like the split to be sixty-five/thirty-five. I had it in mind that a more equitable split would be fifty-five/forty-five. I know you and John probably have your own idea. I hope we can come to an agreement today, so a contract can be drawn up.”
“Gene doesn’t need you, Harding,” Conrad blurted out. It looked like he had been barely able to keep from jumping into our discussion a few times. “That was a cheap shot at the end and you know it. Sixty-five/thirty-five is a gift for the couple minutes workout you’ll be doing to get it. You’ll be lucky to make it through two minutes.”
Tommy and I looked at each other enjoying the show. We’d fought a bunch of back alley fights with side bets. The battle to get larger odds went on a lot like this with insults and tongue wagging by the handler. Gene kept his mouth shut because this wasn’t his arena or mine.
“Everyone at the Mandalay Bay, and around the world, who paid to see the fight knows John knocked Gene into la-la land, broke his jaw, and only a split second kept him from being the winner. I figure we’re giving your fighter a chance to redeem himself after being declared the winner in a fight he clearly lost. Fifty/fifty would be fine since you think Gene will only have to pummel Cheese here for a couple minutes. Poor old Cheese should get even money since his life will never be the same.”
Alexi smiled appreciatively at Tommy’s delivery. I drained my Bud and Beam. Marla waved. She’d been watching. I was having a good time. Conrad… not so much.
“That… that is an insult. Fifty/fifty? Are you insane? You’re lucky we didn’t insist on your pug’s license being revoked.”
Marla brought the pug his drinks, patted the pug on the shoulder, and went back to work.
“You’re not very good at this, Conrad,” Tommy said. “It was your turn to make a counter offer like sixty/forty. I would then agree to Alexi’s suggestion of fifty-five/forty-five.”
The pug sipped his Beam, enjoying Tommy’s work. Gene seemed nervous. “We can end this bad talk right now, Gene. You’re confident you can win in a round. You may be right. We’ll settle for a fifty-five/forty-five split. There will be plenty of money. If I’m going to get hammered, that seems pretty fair.”
“John’s right,” Gene told Conrad. “Let’s get this contract written up. They will not do it for less, and we need to do it.”
“He’s right, Conrad,” Tommy said.
“Very well,” Conrad hissed in a very nonprofessional way. “We will be going now. Thank you, Mr. Fiialkov for your hospitality.”
Bueller stood and walked toward the exit without another word. Gene and the rest of us heathens stood also, shaking hands in an amiable way.
“I apologize for Conrad. He is upset about this setback on our way to the title. I hope I will not be forced to cripple you, Cheese. It will be hot in the cage grill on fight night.”
“Thanks, Gene. Nice meeting you.”
Gene nodded with a big smile. He exited, leaving Alexi with us. “Didn’t you come with them, Alexi?”
We sat down again with Alexi shaking his head in the negative. “I cannot stand the sight of Conrad Bueller. We have had words before. He is always arrogant and disrespectful, even as today when he did not have to be. I had heard you quit as John’s manager, Tommy. I am happy you are again at his side. Please tell me you have special training in mind other than beer and whiskey drinking.”
“I do indeed, Alexi,” Tommy replied. “Cheese will be ready.”
“Good. Although I have heard a burger is very tasty marinated in beer, I do not think it a viable fight plan for you, Cheese.”
Tommy snickered over that jab. The Cheeseburger continued sipping and nodding. “I will keep that in mind, Alexi. How is little Michelle and your family?”
“Mishy is looking forward to the holidays with very normal expectations of getting everything under the sun for gifts. She is a happy child once more, and my daughter and son-in-law are well also. I have men watching them only slightly less dangerous than your crew. Have the in-law’s visit driven you crazy yet, Cheese?”
“Nope. The visit has been less stressful than I had anticipated.”
Alexi finished his coffee, and got up once again. “This is all on me, gentlemen. Please order anything you wish. I must see to a few items of business with my new fight partners. They will be happy at the outcome of our meeting. I’m sure we will be in touch again soon. Good day.”
Alexi left with our cheery goodbyes in his ears. Tommy’s smile disappeared. “That Gene even looks scary in a suit. I felt better before I saw him again.”
“Hey… it’s all good. Gene even said he hopes he doesn’t have to cripple me.”
“Yeah… sure he did. I hope that phrase looks good on your tombstone.”
“I feel a negative tremor in the Force, Darth Sands.”
“Enjoy your drinks, Cheeseburger. Your marinating days are over as of now.”
“Yo’ Mamma!”
“At least I knew my Mamma, Cheese.”
Chapter Eleven
Hollywood Connection
Victoria Lydia Voltaire, the screaming husk of life strapped onto the plastic wrapped table with legs wide spread, knew no other conscious thought other than pain. Pain so intense, her wrists hung twisted abnormally in the straps where they had fractured. Victoria’s forehead bled where restrained by the wide strap holding it in place, she had twisted incrementally during her torture until the skin remained on the strap. Without warning, numbness spread throughout her body, seeping into her very soul, gradually washing over all other feeling. The pause in pain took her breath away. She sucked in air with gulping, sobbing gasps. Moments later, Victoria passed out in sheer relief. A dull feeling of coolness made her eyes flutter open, only to see the smiling face of her torturer. She cried out, her eyes widening in terror. Lynn made shushing noises as she dabbed and patted Victoria’s face with a cool wet cloth.
“Hi honey. You dropped off to sleep there. Poor baby. You’ve been through a lot. Take a sip of this.” Lynn put a straw in Victoria’s mouth. The woman sucked in some water hesitantly, her eyes in a complete trance, locked onto Lynn’s face. “Can you speak, baby?”
“Please… please let me die.”
“Not yet, baby. You’ve atoned for all your past cute little actress tricks, holding out on us, while pretending to be helpful. Bad girl – but now you’ve really put aside your half-truths and obfuscation. I’m happy with you again. That’s a good thing. Aren’t you glad I’m happy again, Vicky?”
“Yes!” Victoria sobbed. “Oh… God yes. Please don’t hurt me anymore… please.”
Lynn straightened, holding her hand to chin in a contemplative way. “Okay… good. Now… here’s what we need to do with you feeling so much better pain wise. I’m going to go over a few of the details you held out on us-”
“I’m sorry! I…I’m sorry… Ms. Montoya!”
“That is so sweet. You remembered to address me correctly. Gus Denova’s involvement concerned us greatly. I know you were only trying to tell us what you thought we wanted to hear, and you really have paid your penance for that. Let me make sure we have it all right now, Vicky. Calm down and take your time to answer. You told me during our question and answer session that Gus was brought in from his Thailand hideout to run a Southern drug network. Terrorist cells were to be set up along this network much like you planned to do in the North. Is that correct?”
“Yes… yes Ms. Montoya!”
Lynn patted Victoria’s face fondly. “Just yes and no will be fine now, baby. The Muslim Brotherhood has not yet smuggled men in fo
r the Southern network. You claimed they will arrive next month from Thailand, aboard a Cosco container ship… correct?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. Now, remember Vicky, our conversation and your facts are being checked by one of the best teams I’ve ever seen with computer hacking. If I hear a bad buzzer noise that something doesn’t check out, we’ll have to start all over again. We don’t want that now, do we?”
Victoria nearly screamed, but she controlled herself, eyes squinted tightly shut. She answered with slow deliberation, her mouth a thin lipped slash reflecting the abject fear racing through her mind. “No! I will not give you false information, Ms. Montoya. Denova brought half a dozen men with him to a…” she coughed dryly, and Lynn gave her some more water. Victoria went on after a moment. “To a meeting I had with him in LA only a few weeks ago. His network is to get one of the containers.”
Lynn dabbed at Victoria’s face with the wet cloth. “You even knew his address where we can find him too, you little minx. Such a bad girl. Now you’re my good girl. Repeat the address again, Vicky, so we know we have it right.”
Voltaire did as she was told, enunciating the address carefully, aware of what she recognized as a morphine derivative keeping the searing pain at bay. Victoria watched Lynn’s face as she seemed to be listening to something, praying she would smile or show some sign of being pleased. Lynn noticed.
“Oh… sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to keep you hanging. You received a real good report from my helpers.”
Victoria’s features eased into a relieved stupor. She had only one coherent wish – to never awaken again… ever. “Can… can I die now?”
Lynn framed Victoria’s face in her hands, leaning close in with smiling countenance. “Of course, my little darling. Would you like it to be super-fast, or a slow minutes long easing into it with music?”
Tears welled out of Victoria’s eyes as Lynn released her and wiped off her face gently. “The slow one with music sounds nice.”
Hard Case IV: A Violent Life (John Harding Series Book 4) Page 18
