A pair of eyes opens right against the glass.
I jump back, raising my arms instinctively. “Jesus fucking Christ!”
My heart’s racing—that scared the shit out of me!
The eyes stare at me, the pupils gray as old stone and the whites stained with red streaks. They don’t move, they don’t blink—they just… watch me.
The guard appears and moves to the door. Without hesitating, or looking at the eyes, he bangs his nightstick against the glass before closing the flap.
He presses a button on the intercom, which is mounted on the wall to the side of the door. “Back away from the door! Now!” He turns to me. “I did warn you… ”
I’m laughing only to hide the embarrassment, not because I thought any part of that was fucking funny.
“Heh… yeah, I won’t be doing that again, don’t worry.”
We continue on. About halfway down a metal gate is blocking the way. The guard takes a key and opens it, allowing me through before following me and locking it behind us. We soon approach the end of the corridor. There’s a door in front of us. The guard stops next to it.
“Your cousin’s in that room,” he says, nodding to the door on my right. “But we don’t open it up without a full team. Instead, we keep her in this particular cell because, along with the one opposite, it’s linked to an observation room, where you can see her and communicate with her without having to step inside.”
I’m really tempted to look through the window… No—don’t do it, Adrian.
“Is that not overkill?” I ask. “Even for this place…?”
The guard unlocks the door, then looks back at me, frowning. “You don’t know what she’s in here for, do you?”
I shake my head. I have a feeling I’m not going to like this…
“She set fire to a care home,” he continues. “Killed everyone in there. All sixty-two of the old bastards. Courts ruled she was certifiable, so they sent her here instead of giving her the chair. She’s… tormented, to say the least.”
Holy…
“Shit… Well, like I said, I’m just… y’know… doing right by the family…”
I thought she was in the business? That’s pretty out there, even for an assassin. I wonder if Case made a mistake. Saying that, he did say she was a plan B…
Christ, can you imagine what she would do if I let her loose in the White House? I smile to myself at the thought. It would certainly be one way of stopping Cunningham—burn the building to the ground!
Hmm…
The guard opens the door and steps to the side. “You’ve got five minutes with her. Any longer than that and she tends to get a little… agitated.”
I smile and walk through. The door closes behind me. The room is long and has two temporary walls dividing it with cheap doors cut into the plasterboard. I open the one on the right. There are two chairs side by side facing a window currently hidden behind closed curtains. Other than that, the room is empty.
I move over to the window. I feel myself hesitate before reaching for the curtains. There could be anything behind these… I’m not entirely sure I want to know.
No—man up, Adrian, you fucking woman!
I pull them back to reveal Ruby DeSouza’s cell.
Huh…
It’s well-lit by the fluorescent lighting overhead. The walls are gray brick and the floor is tiled. Everywhere is clean, spotless—not a mark to be found on any surface. As I look, at the far end there’s a single bed, neatly made, in one corner, with the door in the other. Nearest me, next to the window, is a toilet and sink with a desk opposite.
In the center of the room, there’s a woman sitting quietly on a chair, facing the window. Facing me. She’s… well, she’s stunning, if I’m honest. But she’s staring right at me, which is kind of freaking me out a little.
And now she’s tilting her head slowly at an angle, not blinking…
Okay, I don’t like it…
I sit in one of the chairs and compose myself, taking a deep breath. This place is doing a number on me, and I need to get my shit together.
I take another breath.
She’s still staring at me.
Her hair is jet black and cut short into a bob that finishes level with her chin. Her eyes are green, with long, black lashes. She’s wearing—and don’t ask me how she got the outfit—a very short black dress. The kind of dress women wear to a nightclub. Her long toned legs are crossed, and her hands are clasped on her lap. She has no shoes on, and she’s bouncing her foot like she’s sitting in a doctor’s waiting room or something, idly passing the time.
What the…
“Ruby?”
The foot stops bouncing. She uncrosses and recrosses her legs the opposite way.
I get a brief image of Basic Instinct in my head and thank God she’s not Sharon Stone right now…
She moves her head slowly to a different angle, never taking her eyes off me.
“You’re not… him,” she says. Her voice is faint, like a whisper. “Where is he?”
I frown. “Where’s who?”
“The nice man in the hat and the suit and the power tie, which has four different pastel colors merging into each other. He comes here once a day, about this time, with his newspaper and his drink of tea. Oh, he likes his tea. Same cup, every day. The same cup. I hope he washes it after each use… It will become stained. Yes it will. Stained. Like blood. Bloodstains. They don’t wash out. No, no, no, they don’t. They don’t wash out.”
Wow.
That’s… ah… that’s some kind of crazy she has going on for herself!
She’s not moved. She’s still sitting all prim and proper like an English rose. But those eyes… man, I can see the demons in those eyes.
They’re impressive.
I know a thing or two about dealing with demons and about letting them out. Dear Ruby here seems to let them roam free 24-7.
Her emerald orbs are darting in all directions now, like she’s trying to track a fly that’s buzzing around her. But still she sits, all delicate.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I say. “But I’m here. I came to see you. To make sure you’re okay.”
Her eyes snap to me in an instant, her brow furrowing with an immediate, unjustified hatred. “And who the fuck are you? Heretic! What the fuck are you doing here?” She spits out the words with venom, saliva forming on her lips.
I’m starting to think this maybe wasn’t such a good idea.
So, I’m assuming the patience and understanding route probably isn’t going to get me anywhere. I’ll try another approach.
“Okay, Ruby, tone down the psycho—I’m better at it than you. And a helluva lot better at hiding it. I’m here to offer you a job. Do you know what I mean by that? When I say job?”
Her face relaxes, but the frown stays. I think more from confusion than anger, though. She tilts her head alternatively left and right, like a dog trying to understand its master’s command.
I sigh. “Look, I’ve only got a few minutes with you because, for some reason, the guards here seem to be scared of you. Why is that, do you think?”
A smile slowly creeps across her face and reaches her eyes, which light up with a fiendish glee. She stands, not bothering to shimmy her dress down. It’s ridden up a little, revealing most of her thighs. She walks casually toward me, up on her toes, placing one foot exaggeratedly in front of the other, like a ballerina, until she’s mere inches from the window.
She strokes her hand up and down the glass, playfully, before turning around and reaching behind her, grabbing the zipper near the base of her neck, and pulling it down all the way to the top of her ass.
I shift in my seat, feeling a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Hey, what are you doing? Don’t be doing that, now. Come on.”
She slips the dress off one shoulder, then the other… slowly, like she’s putting on a show. She shakes her hips as she ushers it down her body.
She’s naked underneath.
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I quickly look to the floor, putting my head in my hand. “Oh, sweet Jesus…”
I’m a man, like any other—in some ways, at least. Ruby is an attractive woman, and she’s now naked in front of me. I don’t want to see her like that but there’s really nowhere else to look—the window runs pretty much the full width of the wall and almost floor to ceiling.
This is weird. Like, really, really, weird.
Josh would be loving this. Not only for the gratuitous nudity, but also for my obvious discomfort.
She steps out of the dress and walks back toward her chair, stopping just in front of it. She puts her arms out to the sides, moving them slowly up and over her head as she bends her knees and arches her back, stretching. She stands up straight and turns around.
I jump in my seat. “Fuck me!”
Her, frankly, incredible body is covered from throat to groin in a network of scars. Self-inflicted wounds in the shape of a thousand pentagrams tattoo her chest and stomach. The freshly healed cuts are a deep red.
“This is how I keep my demons locked inside,” she says seductively. “It stops them coming out to play. Do you like my demons?”
I shrug, squirming in my seat. “Ah… not really, no. It’s a little bizarre, if I’m honest.”
She frowns. “You do not like me? You do not want me? Why are you here? The people who come here always like me… always want me. They cheer for me, beg me for more… And they visit me. Late at night when they think I’m asleep, they visit. They try to unlock my door with their key. Try to let my demons out. But I don’t let them come out. No, no, no… They stay locked behind my door. Yes they do.” She pauses to giggle like a little girl, putting one hand to her mouth. “Their keys aren’t big enough to open my door. But I don’t tell them they’re wasting their time. It’s fun watching them try.”
I shake my head and smile, which gradually gives way to a laugh.
Sonofabitch.
It’s the eyes. They never lie. And Ruby DeSouza’s eyes are no different. I’m not saying she isn’t a little… out there… but this—it’s an act. A very elaborate, very clever act. I don’t know the reason behind it. But I know it’s all for show. She had me—hook, line, and sinker—right until the double entendre about the guards interfering with her at night. I could see her struggling to keep a straight face. Her eyes betrayed her.
I stand and applaud.
She stops, frozen in place and naked, staring at me, genuinely confused.
“Very good,” I say. “You should be an actress. Now put your fucking clothes on, sit your ass down, and listen to what I have to say.”
She doesn’t move for a moment, frowning at me. Eventually, she gives in, moving quickly over to her dress and putting it back on. “Who are you?”
Her voice sounds drastically different now. More down to earth. More… sane.
“I’m Adrian Hell.”
Her mouth drops open with shock. “Get the fuck outta here! Really?”
I smile and nod.
“No shit! What are you doing here? And, hey, how did you know I was faking it?”
I shrug. “You’re good, don’t get me wrong. And the whole naked thing—nice touch. Very nice touch… But I could see it in your eyes, trying not to laugh. You couldn’t quite stay in character.”
“Damn it… ” She sighs as she zips her dress back up. “So what do you want?”
I must admit, as far as she’s concerned at least, I feel much better about potentially having her on board. I think her natural talent for deception probably makes her a formidable killer. And she’s definitely crazy enough to want in.
“I’m here to offer you a job. But thanks to your little striptease, I only have about thirty seconds left to give you my sales pitch before the guard comes back.”
She shrugs. “So make it quick.”
“Okay… how would you feel about earning twenty million dollars to help me assassinate the president of the United States?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Huh… Okay, I’m in—sounds kinda fun.”
I shake my head and smile. She didn’t even hesitate.
“There’s just one thing. I’m kinda incarcerated here for,” she pauses to look at her wrist, even though she’s not wearing a watch, “oh, the rest of my life! It was a nice idea at the time, but I didn’t think it through, I’ll admit. If you want my help, you’ll have to bust me out of here first.”
I hear the door open outside the room. I don’t have much time…
“I’m guessing that’s not going to be as easy as it sounds?”
She shakes her head.
Damn it.
“Okay, sit tight. I’ll think of something.”
Great… now I just need to think of something!
The door to the room opens and the guard appears. “Okay, time’s up. Let’s go.”
“Can I not just have a couple more minutes with her?”
“I’m afraid not. Too much excitement sets her off.”
I glance sideways at her, suppressing a smile. She winks at me.
“Yeah… I can imagine.”
I walk over to the door, pausing in front of the guard. He’s about my height—similar build and shape. A bit younger than me. He’s on edge, his body language is tense.
I look past him, over his shoulder, at Ruby, who’s sitting patiently in her chair, watching me.
I’ve never been one to really plan things. And, if I was being brutally honest with myself, my track record of improvising in the heat of the moment is poor at best.
But when in doubt, stick with what you know…
I whip my body to the right, slamming my elbow into the guard’s temple. No warning, minimal movement, maximum effect. He drops to the floor in a heap.
Ruby stands and runs to the window, slamming her hand on it. “Are you crazy?” she shouts.
I gesture to the surroundings. “Really? You’re asking me that after what I just had to sit through?”
I crouch down and take the nightstick and keychain before dashing into the corridor, fumbling around with the keys, trying to find the right one. I strike gold on the sixth and pull the door open. She’s standing in front of it, arms crossed over her chest.
She pokes her head out and quickly looks left and right. “Are you an idiot? I mean, I was acting… but you—you’re genuinely this fucking stupid, aren’t you?”
I frown. “Hey, hold on a minute, lady! I’m doing you a favor busting you out of here!”
“And I’m eternally grateful. But my door, like the one opposite, is alarmed. It’s not linked to the main system like everyone else’s, so it can’t be opened centrally. Extra security measure for high-risk inmates, should they have a system failure or something. Hence the alarm—no one can open my cell without everyone finding out.”
“Oh…”
“Plus, that guard you just laid out has a panic button that’s electronically linked to a heart rate monitor, so if anything happens to him, it sends an alert to the central system, also telling everyone.”
“Ah…”
“So, Adrian, while I’m glad you’re getting me out, tell me—what do you intend doing about them?”
She points to her left, and I turn my head to see what she’s referring to. Through the darkness I see the lights flickering into life above the metal gate separating us from the stairs. I see the two guards from the desk standing with five of their friends. They’re armed with what look like cattle prods—I can see the blue line of electricity crackling at the end.
I look back at Ruby and shrug. “Good question.”
7
11:46 EDT
“Well?” she asks.
“Shush!” I hiss. “I’m thinking.”
We’re at the end of a corridor. The only way out is directly ahead of us through a locked metal gate and a team of armed security guards. I have a nightstick, of the non-electrified variety, and a half-dressed woman who I�
��m trying to bust out of an insane asylum.
I’ll be honest, nothing’s jumping out at me…
Ruby sighs. “Oh, for crying out loud—move!”
I feel a little bewildered by all this. I step to the side, allowing her out of her room. As she passes me, I see her sink back into character once more. The madness fills her eyes, and her body language changes as she morphs back into the psychotic bitch I saw a few minutes ago. She disappears inside the observation room, coming out a moment later dragging the unconscious guard behind her by his collar.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper, genuinely unsure where she’s going with this.
She stays in character, tilting her head slowly, staring at me with insane eyes.
She says nothing.
“Oh, right… I see.”
It’s probably best I let her do her thing.
She drags the guard into the middle of the corridor and stands over him, a leg on either side of his body. Hitching her dress up, she slowly crouches down, straddling his waist. She leans forward, resting her hands on his shoulders, then looks ahead of her, down the long corridor, through the gates, into the eyes and souls of each security guard in turn.
“Oh, he’s mine!” she shouts. “A lovely gift—oh, yes he is! Daughter needs a new dress…”
Jesus Christ, it’s Gollum!
She starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Daughter will make herself a new one so she’s pretty for when the man with the tea comes back. Pretty in her own flesh… pretty in his!”
She rips the guard’s shirt open and digs her nails into his chest, drawing blood. She snaps her head around, stares straight at me, and lets out a scream that would scare a banshee.
“Let’s see how good you really are, heretic!”
Oh boy…
I look down the corridor at the team of security personnel. They’re running toward us, approaching the metal gate. The one in front is already reaching for the keys. They’ll be coming to save their colleague and restrain the crazy lady.
This is not a drill, they’ll be thinking.
Now what do I do?
Hang on…
I have a nightstick. And I’m Adrian Hell. I know exactly what to do…
She’s not the only one with demons to let out.
A Necessary Kill Page 5
