The guard in front of her turned to Trent for instruction, who simply nodded, and he stepped to one side to let her through. As she strode past him, she ran her hand slowly down his chest, causing him to stare straight ahead and take a deep breath.
“Thanks, big boy,” she whispered with a smile.
She slid into the chair opposite Trent, sitting side-on to the table so he could see her crossing her long, toned legs slowly. She rested her elbow on the table and leant her chin on the back of her hand.
“So,” said Trent. “How can you help me?”
She remained silent for a moment, and then said, “I hear you’re looking for a professional to dispose of someone.”
Trent let out an involuntary laugh before composing himself. “Sweetheart, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m after an assassin, not a hooker. I might have a job for you in one of my clubs though…”
She smiled at him, but this time there was no humor or flirtation.
“As I’m essentially here looking for work, I’m going to let that one slide,” she replied. “But if you insult me again, I’m gonna slit your throat open, then reach inside and pull your balls out. We clear?”
Trent raised an eyebrow and regarded her for a moment. He liked her attitude. Maybe he’d jumped the gun a little with his first impression…
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Dominique.”
“Okay, Dominique. How did you know where to find me?”
“I’m very good at my job,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Okay,” he said after a moment. “You’re hired. Your target is staying in the Hilton not far from here. I want him dead. And his friend. Leave me your details and I’ll wire one point five million dollars to your account, up front. Just get it done.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the target?” she asked.
Trent shook his head impatiently. “It shouldn’t matter who the target is, just kill them. I’ve told you where they are, so go and do the job you came here to apply for before I change my mind and have you removed from my table.”
She rolled her eyes and was about to say something, but Trent cut her off.
“And just because you waltz in here with your sexy strut and your attitude, don’t think that counts for anything. You can make all the idle threats toward me that you want, but make no mistake, sweetheart—I’m the worst kind of bad guy, and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish and string you up with your insides. Do not fuck with me.”
Dominique paused for a moment, and then simply nodded. “Consider it done,” she said, before standing walking off past the bodyguards. As she did, the one who stopped her when she first arrived smiled at her menacingly.
“How’s about me and you have some fun later?” he said with a wink.
She stopped in her tracks and looked at him over her shoulder. She thought for a minute, then smiled and walked back toward him. She stopped in front of him. They were almost the same height because of the heels on her boots. She placed her hand on his chest and slowly moved it down, tugging lightly on his belt before resting on his crotch. She moved her hand up and down slowly.
“You mean… this kind of fun?” she said, playfully.
He smiled and nodded.
Then, in a flash, her smile faded and she grabbed him hard, squeezing her hand tightly. He gasped loudly, his eyes going wide in pain as she twisted her hand slightly, applying more pressure to his most sensitive area. Some people turned to stare for a moment, but hastily looked away again when they saw it was at Wilson Trent’s table.
“You men are all the same,” she said, looking at Trent, who was watching with bemusement. “If I were you… any of you… I’d think twice before fucking with me!”
She let go of the guard, who immediately bent over in pain. As he did, she brought her knee up and smashed it into his face. He grunted at the impact then slumped forward to the floor, unconscious.
She smiled at Trent and winked at him before turning and walking off, looking as confident as before, through the restaurant and out the front door.
The remaining bodyguards looked at Trent, who simply shrugged and smiled.
“I like her,” he said.
21.
ADRIAN HELL
16:35
We decided to ignore the unexpected link to Wilson Trent. We left King’s body for his people to find, fulfilling the terms of our contract and sending a clear message on Manhattan’s behalf.
It’s late afternoon and the first drops of rain have begun to fall as we head back to Pittsburgh. I’m staring out the window while Josh drives, my mind rushing in a million different directions simultaneously. The morale boost was short-lived, and we’re back where we started—us versus Trent, with us on the back foot.
What is it with Wilson fucking Trent anyway? Everything we do seems to lead back to him. I know his empire is far-reaching, but I had no idea he’s so embedded in everyone’s lives and interests. Even Manhattan’s found himself on Trent’s radar now, thanks to our efforts a few hours ago.
Not that I’ve told him yet…
I need to get to Trent before he gets to me. I can’t afford to let myself go on the defensive—I have to attack. Get my retaliation in first, so to speak.
Josh glances at me with a brief look of concern, as if deciding to try to distract me from my thoughts.
“So, do you wanna break the news to Jimmy, or shall I?” he asks.
I let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll call him later and tell him,” I reply, distantly.
I drift off, my eyes locked on something far enough in the distance that they lose focus and the need to blink. The world flashes in front of me in an anonymous blur as I stare at absolutely nothing. Occasionally, a drop of rain will draw my focus as it slashes across the window, bringing me back to the here and now, but I quickly zone out again.
“What the hell do we do, man?” I ask Josh, finally returning to the conversation. “Trent’s everywhere, and it’s just us trying to go against him. Talk about an uphill struggle...”
“Hey, we’ll be fine,” he says. “Like it or not, we’ve got Manhattan fighting our corner for the time being. I’m still working away at assaulting his finances, and there’s no one he can throw at us that we can’t beat. We just need to pick our fights, choose our moments wisely, and not get caught out. It’s a numbers game, and it’s sometimes easier to win five small fights than one big one.”
I rub my temples, and then massage the base of my neck, where a tension headache that feels like a thousand knives has settled in for the long haul.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I acknowledge. “I’m just frustrated because whatever direction we seem to turn, that bastard has already made his presence felt, meaning we’re doing nothing put poke an already pissed off bear.”
We fall silent again. I figure Josh probably feels the same way I do—that we’re just going around in circles and accomplishing nothing except giving our enemy more reason to want us dead.
Another twenty minutes pass before Josh speaks again.
“Okay, we’ve been traveling long enough that I can tell you and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he says.
I look over at him, confused. “Tell me what?” I ask.
“We’re taking a detour.”
I frown and look out of the window again—this time paying attention to where we are and trying to figure out where he’s taking me.
Josh remains silent as I look around for road signs. Heading to Pittsburgh, I’d expect us to be on I-78, but we’re not. I wait another couple of minutes before finally seeing a sign I recognize… It’s telling me how far along the I-476 we are…
I sigh. I know exactly where he’s taking me.
“Josh, you don’t need to do this,” I say.
“I think I do, Boss,” he replies. “I know this is hard, but I think you need reminding why we’re here and to get your head back in the game.”
17:42
Just over an h
our later, we enter Philadelphia. We cross the Delaware River and, after a couple of minutes stuck in some light traffic, we turn right on 46th Street and pull up outside a large, detached white and gray house.
My old family home.
Josh gets out of the Winnebago without a word and stands on the sidewalk, looking at the house. It takes me a minute to join him; a flurry of emotion explodes inside my head like a thunderstorm.
I haven’t seen the house since the day I left. Not since the day I found my wife and daughter murdered on the kitchen floor.
I take a deep breath.
“You alright?” he asks me.
I nod.
“You pissed off at me?”
I shake my head and smile weakly, momentarily lost for words as the occasion proves too much for me.
“Good. This... this is why you’re here, Adrian,” he says, pointing at the house. “No matter how shitty things might look, we both know you will not let your girls down.”
My whole body relaxes, and I stand staring at my old home, a numbing sensation washing over me. I look at the windows, in desperate need of cleaning... the car parked on the drive with a baby seat in the back... the front lawn with the same rosebush that I’d planted the day after me and Janine moved in, still growing strong...
Josh has paced away slowly and aimlessly out of respect, giving me a moment or two alone. As I stare at the place, the image of how it used to look when I lived there bleeds through from the depths of my mind. It gives me a glimpse into the past; a happier time, before my demons had consumed me… before I was so passionate and serious about being a killer... when I had genuine love in my life.
A voice drifts into my thoughts, causing the image to evaporate in front of my eyes.
“Huh?” I say, absently.
“Adrian? Is that you?”
I shake my head to regain total focus and turn to my right. There’s an old man standing next to me, staring at me with a look of disbelief. He’s much shorter than me, with thin, gray hair and light brown eyes. He’s easily eighty years old, dressed in suit pants, with a sweater vest over a white shirt and striped tie.
I frown at him for a moment, confused… Do I know him?
Oh shit—yeah, I do… he’s my old neighbor! Jesus… he remembers me?
What the hell was his name?
“It is you, isn’t it?” he asks again, his voice frail and cracked.
“It’s me,” I confirm after a moment.
“Well, I’ll be... we thought you were dead,” he says. “After what happened... there was a lot of talk from folks ‘round here for a long time afterward...”
He lets his words trail off before extending his hand. I look down and shake it. He nods to me. “It was a goddamn tragedy what happened here,” he says. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
I take a deep breath before letting go of his hand. “Thank you,” I say, eventually. “I appreciate that.”
“If I may,” he starts. “What happened to you? The police were round here for weeks after they found... well, no one knew where you were—I think you were a suspect at first, but then word got round that you’d died too and over time, the matter was simply dropped. Another unsolved crime...”
“I bet,” I reply, unable to hide the disdain in my voice. “I left town when I found them. I… I knew who was responsible, and I knew the police wouldn’t do anything. I got scared, and I ran.”
The old man purses his lips together as he processes what I’ve just told him. Then he holds a finger up at me and leans forward slightly to speak.
“Don’t you dare feel fuckin’ sorry for yaself, son.”
I can’t hide my surprise at his candidness, and he undoubtedly sees the look on my face.
“Everyone knew who was to blame,” he continues, gesturing to the houses around him. “I tell ya, he thinks he fuckin’ runs this state. Goddamn police in his pocket, literally got away with murder.” He spits on the ground as he takes a breath and coughs. “Makes me sick!” He looks me up and down, as if he’s judging me. “You back to bury that sonofabitch?” he asks.
Josh appears next to me, and I quickly look at him before answering.
“What makes you think I’d be able to do something like that?” I ask, cautiously.
“Ah, don’t gimme that crap,” he says, making a dismissive gesture with this hand. “I’ve lived here nearly sixty years. Seen all kindsa things and all kindsa folks. I never miss nothin’, Adrian.”
I know what he’s saying without him having to spell it out to me. He knew all along what I did for a living, and why Trent attacked my family. I don’t know how he knows—I guess he’s very observant in his spare time.
I hold his gaze for a moment, but say nothing. After a moment, he simply nods.
“Good. That bastard deserves everything he’s got coming to him. So, where you staying? Somewhere local?”
“In Pittsburgh, actually,” I say. “I’ve just been seeing an acquaintance over in Allentown while I was around these parts.”
“Well, if you’re ever around here again, you make sure you call in for a coffee. Or something stronger.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I say, extending my hand, which he shakes. “But to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be back around here again for a long time.”
He looks at Josh briefly, giving him a curt nod, and then walks uneasily back to his house.
“What was that about?” Josh asks.
“My old neighbor was giving me his blessing to kill Wilson Trent,” I reply.
“Ha! Well now we know he’s alright with it, we can go ahead!”
I laugh. “Come on,” I say, walking back to the Winnebago. “Memory lane isn’t what it used to be.”
As I’m about to open the door, my old neighbor re-appears on the sidewalk, shouting my name.
“Adrian,” he says. “Hey, Adrian... I got somethin’ for ya.”
He walks over to us, out of breath, and hands me a small photograph. It’s from a Polaroid camera and shows a young man standing with a beautiful woman who’s holding a baby in her arms.
My eyes go wide and my mouth opens in shock as I look at the picture of me with my family, taken from a different time... a different life.
“I had this picture of you,” he explains. “I found it on the street when the police were searching your house, after they found them. I thought you might want it before you go.”
“Thank you,” I say, lost for words as I stare at the picture of everything I’ve lost.
“And just you remember,” the old man continues. “There’s that saying about a man on the road to vengeance digging two graves... You just watch yaself, ya hear?”
I look him in the eye.
“Only two? Jesus... you’re gonna need a lot more than that by the time I’m finished.”
22.
MEANWHILE…
18:41
Word had spread quickly of Johnny King’s demise. Jimmy Manhattan knew the few hours after his death were crucial. That was when panic set in and people instinctively looked for someone to turn to. When they found no one, that’s when the fighting would start. And by the time the dust had settled and the victor had emerged, enough would’ve been destroyed in the process that they ended up being in charge of nothing. He’d seen it in the past, and had learned from his time working with Roberto Pellaggio to know that it’s best to act swiftly and decisively.
Upon hearing King was found dead in his office, Manhattan immediately sent Tarantina and three other men to The Palace, to establish his presence and quash any concerns people there may have had. He had given Tarantina instructions to kill anyone who challenged their authority without hesitation.
As expected, it’d been necessary to make one or two examples, but the rest fell in line soon after. Tarantina had stayed at The Palace, organizing the newly acquired businesses and personnel. And that was that. Manhattan now completely ran Allentown without opposition, and after a few moments to allow everything he
’d accomplished to soak in, he’d set to work figuring out how to get the rest of the state.
The first and most obvious hurdle to get over was the discovery that the rest of Pennsylvania was owned, and run, by a man named Wilson Trent. A quick look through King’s financial records had told Manhattan that he worked for Trent, laundering money through his nightclub for him.
Manhattan had done some digging and made some calls. It turned out that Wilson Trent wasn’t exactly a hard man to find out about. If you could think of an aspect of the city worth controlling, or an illegal enterprise worth starting, the chances are Trent did it years ago.
He’d actually heard the name many years prior, when Pellaggio was still completing his takeover of Nevada. Trent had always been a player, but he was never in the major leagues. It was only the last decade or so when he’d really come into power, and he’d done so in a big way.
It hadn’t taken long to get a good idea of how far and wide Trent’s reach stretched. But what was interesting was the discovery of Adrian Hell’s relationship with him. A former employee of Johnny King’s had proven most helpful in detailing why Trent was so irate that Adrian had re-surfaced on the East Coast after a prolonged absence. And the more Manhattan learned, the happier he became.
If he had one regret in life, it was hiring Adrian Hell for that job back in Heaven’s Valley. It made perfect sense to do so, given he was—and arguably still is—the best hitman money can buy, by a long way. But he was… different. He asked questions. He thought too much. It made him great at his job, but also a major pain in the ass for anyone hiring him. He’d hated him ever since, and the only memories that made him smile were the ones where he was causing that bastard pain.
He’d played the diplomat with him earlier in the day, as it was good for business, and it had proven a wise choice. Within three hours of giving him the contract, Johnny King was dead. Tarantina would be subtly leaking the fact they’d hired Adrian to do it, so everyone in the city now associated him with Manhattan. So now, he was untouchable. People would be too afraid to cross him, as they know he’d let Adrian Hell loose on them.
One Last Bullet: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 3) Page 14
