Never Go Alone

by Denison Hatch

  “I’m simply going to utilize the full resounding power of the police force,” Susan continued to scroll on her phone as she spoke, like she couldn’t care that Jake was there anymore. “You’re suspended until further notice.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, Susan.” Jake said. He pointed to himself. “I worked hard to get in there. Rory? He likes me. Think about it. It wasn’t Emanuel Vipa. He’s a nothing. Rory’s the one doing this. Rory, Castle, Nik.”

  “And the girl?” Tony asked.

  “No culpability,” Jake shook his head.

  “It’s not whether you know what we all know already. It’s your evidence. What’s your evidence?” Susan asked.

  “I don’t have it all. But I’ve got a lot. I know what they’re going to hit next. And last night? That was my in. You get it? The thing at the Statue of Liberty wasn’t shits and giggles. It was my initiation. Now they trust me. Give me a week or two. I can tell that Rory’s about to tell me everything. The floodgates are opening.”

  She didn’t respond directly. Instead, she beckoned.

  “Badge and gun,” Susan said. “You’ll follow Tony back to the house in New Rochelle for debrief. I’m stopping rent on the apartment. I’ll clear that place out. I heard you’re actually living there, so maybe you should think a bit about future accommodations.”

  “My badge and gun is in the Bronx. At the apartment. Susan, please . . . ”

  “Okay, enough. Tony will grab it all later,” Susan sighed. “I don’t have time for this.” Susan nodded at Jake then towards the door.

  Jake opened the car door and stared down the highway at his bike. It was a warm, beautiful day. But he couldn’t feel a bit of sunshine as he stepped out.

  “It’s okay, you know. I’ll keep you on the force,” Susan said. “But you’re out of the cold. For good. You should look around a little, bask in the sun. Then smile. And don’t worry one little bit because believe you me . . . I’m going to kill those jokers.” She grinned as she slammed the door shut.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “THE NEXT PLACE THEY HIT is one of these five locations,” Jake said.

  He wrote down the list of locations he’d spotted at Rory’s apartment and slid the piece of paper towards Villalon. They were sitting outside by the pool, behind the house in New Rochelle.

  “I also have his garage door PIN, which might be of use to you,” Jake added.

  “I’d love that,” Tony said. “Thanks. So what about the girl? Is she in on these hits?”

  “Who?”

  “The person whose bed you slept in last night. The one from social media. Mona.”

  “She didn’t hit the Razor—’cause she was with me. I don’t think she really knows.”

  “That may be,” Tony said as he raised an eyebrow, “and if that’s true she won’t have any problems. Susan wasn’t lying. She’s planning the full-court press. A couple hundred guys. Head-to-toe surveillance.”

  “Do me a favor, Tony. Trust me. Mona’s not into this stuff.”

  “You know where she works?”

  “She’s an art student,” Jake said.

  “I said where she works . . .”

  “The mall, I think?”

  “Right . . . Belensky’s.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Look it up. Might connect a couple more dots. Anyway, time to celebrate the fact that you’re still alive.” Tony popped open a beer for Jake and pushed it across the table.

  “Told you Susan would jack me,” Jake said as he took a sip.

  “Right in the chest,” Tony nodded.

  Jake chuckled. “But she wasn’t looking me in the eye, unless you count her Blackberry. I guess firing me was about as interesting as revising a Google doc.”

  “So you know our plan. What’s yours?” Tony said.

  “Right and wrong doesn’t rest on the thin blue line. I am going to bust this open. I am so close—and they trust me. Wanna know what’s gonna nail these guys to the wall? Evidence. I’ll just become the evidence.”

  “C’mon . . .”

  “What?”

  “Why do you gotta say stuff like that? Makes me worried. That doesn’t fly with me, Jakey.”

  “You asked me what I’m going to do . . .’

  “No support at all? I gotta cover you, man.”

  “Not possible,” Jake said.

  “Just me. Not the force.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Jake asked.

  “Well, you know most of the money they spend on us is useless.”

  “Yeah? Like the pool?”

  “Gotta keep up appearances for the neighbors,” Tony replied.

  “Oh yeah? In that case . . .” Jake stood up and yanked off his shirt, then went for his belt. Within a moment he was down to his boxer shorts.

  “But being SID has some perks too. Like the hand-me-downs the FBI drops on our doorstep every few months,” Tony said. “Let me get something for you.”

  “Whatever you’re talking about? That’s your bag. Not mine. Me? I’m only here for a few more minutes. I’m going to chug this beer, go for a couple laps, and then I’m outta here, Tony.” Jake propelled himself into the air and executed a perfect backflip into the pristine body of water behind him.

  ▪

  Jack Castle didn’t wake up when his phone rang the first time. He missed the second call too—finally rousing from his stupor when a text came through.

  Nikki was very intent on finding him. Her text read: “Call me NOW. You need to know something about your ‘friend’ Jake Easton.” It didn’t take Castle long to remember exactly who Nikki was. He walked up the stairs to the loft bedroom above Rory’s living room.

  ▪

  Rory was already up. He was tapping away on his laptop, securing a van rental online and using Tor-anonymizer software to hide his tracks.

  “Fun party, eh?” Rory said.

  “Listen, we have to talk. About Eastie,” Castle said.

  “What about him?”

  “You know I always got your back, right?”

  “Sure . . .” Rory said.

  “I put feelers out. Just doing some due diligence. Nothing major. But one came back like a boomerang. We gotta meet this chick,” Castle said.

  “Who?”

  “A girl that knows about Jake. I know you think he’s crazy enough to do what we’re thinking about . . . But maybe he ain’t just broken. Maybe there’s a different reason he’s game?”

  “Fine,” Rory said. “Set it up.” He turned back to his preparations.

  ▪

  A few hours later, Rory and Castle paced down a Bronx street. A motorcycle bolted past them with a woman seated on the back. Both the female and the driver tipped their heads towards the two men, and then slowed. As Rory and Castle approached, Nikki pulled her helmet off her head. The man on the motorcycle stayed seated.

  “Were you expecting two of them?” Rory whispered to Castle.

  “No.”

  “Careful.”

  Castle put out his hand to Nikki. “Hey there,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “Who’s he?” Nikki pointed to Rory.

  “Everyone has a boss.”

  “Not me.”

  “Then who’s that guy?” Rory pointed to the man sitting on the motorcycle.

  “My fuckin’ cowboy,” Nikki said.

  “You said you’ve got something. About Jake?” Castle asked.

  Nikki glanced back and forth between Rory and Castle. “You got problems, bro,” she finally said. “You got a problem with a virus. You’re sick and you don’t even know it.”

  Rory grinned. Nikki was obviously under the influence of a cocktail of major league drugs. It was tragic, actually, because she was a broken-down beauty. She had the ragged logic of a person who didn’t know how far along the sad slide she’d slipped, someone who was accustomed to others doing her bidding and was just on the precipice of that dynamic completely reversing.

  “The hell are you talking a
bout?” Rory yelled. “We don’t have time for this bullshit,” he said, turning to go.

  “Hey, homie,” the guy on the motorcycle grabbed Rory’s shoulder with force. Rory slapped the guy’s hand away. But now Hector Trizzo had removed his helmet and stared at Rory and Nikki with snake eyes. “You need to know this. I’m just as interested in Jake as you are. Whatta you do? Your crew. What are they up to?”

  “We explore,” Rory said.

  Hector started cracking up. The laughter rose from his belly and erupted when he couldn’t control it anymore. His chuckle was guttural. “I don’t know ’bout exploring, homie. Don’t know what that means. Let me tell you something, Jake wouldn’t be friends with ya unless you were doing something real illegal. And so now I’m a little interested because somehow . . . Your punk asses . . . are like, more of a concern to the po-po than me. Which I find real difficult to believe. But that shit’s on the level. I can co-sign with that.”

  “Don’t mess with me, man. Police—why are you using that word?”

  “So now you want to know what we know, eh?” Hector cackled.

  “Yeah? And who are you?” Rory said.

  “I’m a goddamned winning lottery ticket for you, homie. ’Cause your buddy, your pal Jake Easton? I know him. He’s the same as my old buddy Jakey, who I ain’t seen in a while now. Quite a coincidence. He used to be my best friend . . . Met him a bit ago, and he rolled hard. Not exploring. Thievin’. Then all of a sudden we got busted up by the cops, and Jake rolled on me. I thought it was just the streets for a while, until this finey comes around and tells me something real interesting,” Hector nodded to Nikki. “Show him,” he said.

  Nikki pulled out her cell phone. She scrolled to a photo and flipped the phone around. It was the picture of Jake’s badge and gun.

  “Jake ain’t really our buddies at all. Jake Easton, if that’s even his real name?”

  “He’s . . .” Rory stuttered, the wind actually knocked out of him.

  “He’s a fuckin’ cayp,” Hector spat with rage. “And I’m telling you that on the level. There’s a couple monsters on the street gonna kill him and everyone he’s with. Maybe you included if you still nearby. Not my job anymore. I ain’t nothin’. Just a little part in the plan. It’s already going down. He screwed with a Leviathan, and he gonna pay the price of a life or three. But maybe you and I, we could do some mutually beneficial work. Together.”

  ▪

  Mona exited the Belensky Brothers jewelry store in Manhattan and walked down the sidewalk towards a bus stop. A motorcycle on a side street expelled a guttural roar. She glanced over furtively. When she saw Jake, a smile erupted from her lips. And then concern. Why was he here?

  “What are you doing? Thought we were going to meet by the demo.”

  “I was nearby.”

  “How’d you know I work here?”

  “A little birdie.’

  “Okay . . .”

  “Hey. Can’t blame me for looking around. Saw some mail at your place. That’s what I always do when I wake up in a strange bed.”

  “How often does that happen?”

  “Never.”

  “Liar.”

  “Takes one to know one. Want a ride?” Jake held up a second helmet.

  ▪

  He drove furiously along the Brooklyn Bridge back towards Red Hook. She held onto him tightly. She could feel the nervous energy radiating off him but wasn’t sure how to address it.

  “What’s up, babe?” Mona asked over the radio headset inside her helmet.

  “You work at Belensky’s, eh? What do you do for them?”

  “It pays good,” she said.

  “I bet.”

  Mona spied the distinctive red brick structures of Whale Square to the south as Jake guided the motorcycle off the highway. It took another few minutes before the gargantuan parking lot of oversized construction vehicles around Whale Square came into view. The worst of them, like a dragon romping towards a besieged stone castle, was the crane that held the wrecking ball. The machine lumbered slowly down the road, guided by a number of oblivious men in construction helmets. With all of the money flowing into the economy nowadays, and cheap loans available to large and even medium-sized developers, the construction business was booming. What these guys—who were being paid quite well for a few months of history destruction—didn’t realize was that the cash wasn’t actually going to help them climb the ladder. For every dollar they made, a supplier was making five, a lawyer on the project was making ten, and the developer was making a hundred. The construction workers would never be able to leave Long Island and neither would their own children—the ones they were saving up for. Because they were building value-skyrocketing fortresses for the kids of lawyers and developers. They were marching into the gaping mouths of their own demise, like the slaves who built the pyramids in Egypt. There was no salvation at the top of the pyramid, just a ride back to reality—while their rulers decked themselves in crystal and laid down to rest in bunkers designed to withstand Armageddon.

  Jake parked the motorcycle, and they headed towards the piers below Whale Square—a vast and rusting oil infrastructure spreading south. Jake was sure that Metropolis would have his eye on this area next. One empty and large lot, the size of a few football fields, had been used as a graveyard for shipping containers. Mona nudged Jake.

  “Those will give us a good view,” she said.

  Jake followed Mona. She climbed up a pyramid of shipping containers. It took a deft combination of leaping, climbing, and shimmying, but Jake was well prepared for the task. They finally found themselves a few hundred feet in the air—sitting atop a pile of steel and aluminum.

  Manhattan was glorious and beautiful to their left. Less lovely was the sound of cracking brick and shearing metal to their right. The wrecking ball went through the Whale Square complex without any thought for history or prudence. It was pure destruction. They watched as the walls of the building where they had met were reduced to dust. A huge cloud of debris and detritus clung to the air. Jake had to pull his shirt over his mouth to stop from coughing, but found that he couldn’t turn away. Neither could Mona. Both were enchanted by what was happening—it was a macabre sensation. Mona held her cell phone silently, recording the mess for later use. Jake said nothing, his thoughts already quite dark—and becoming blacker still.

  “You’re not saying much. What’s up?” Mona asked.

  Jake scowled.

  “Please . . .”

  “I can’t afford to just . . . do this anymore . . . I need a job,” he said.

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “That pisses me off too.”

  “All you have to do is write your résumé. Start hitting the pavement. That’s how normal people do it. That’s how I did it,” Mona said.

  “It’s like you think I haven’t proved myself yet,” Jake replied. “It’s obvious that Rory doesn’t live the way he does on investments alone. I want in on it. I need in.”

  Mona absorbed Jake’s statement. She stopped recording on her cell phone and put down the device. She stared out over the Whale Square demolition. “You don’t want what you’re asking for,” she finally said.

  “Maybe not. But that’s where I’m at. And yeah, it pisses me off that you won’t give Rory the good word about me.” Jake stood up on the container. He began pacing. “I know you’re in on this stuff, too. What’s up with you? What are you doin’ at the jewelry store? You want me to think it’s just a coincidence that you work at Belensky’s?” Jake grabbed Mona’s shoulders and shook her, just a bit harder than she would ever have wanted him to.

  Her eyes blew wide—Jake was frightening.

  “I know he’s doing robberies,” Jake continued. “I know that’s how he makes his bones. Last night they hit another place. A boat. Did you know that was going down? Was I just some sort of diversion?”

  “No,” Mona replied. Then she doubled back, “I don’t know, actually . . .”

  “What do
you know?”

  “I know that . . . I hate him.”

  “What?” Unexpected.

  “You don’t want to get sucked in,” she said.

  “Yeah. Actually, I do,” he replied. “Tell me. Mona. Please.”

  “Rory kicked me cash.” The truth finally began to erupt. “I don’t know where it came from. He knows me too well. We have a history. Mari and Vicki are all I have . . . and he’s aware. I just told him about people, and he gave me money for my family.

  “People . . . Clients from the store?”

  She nodded. “The whales.”

  “And Rory robs them?”

  “Guess so,” she said.

  “And what about Metropolis? Was he one of your clients?”

  “No. Metropolis is all Rory,” Mona shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m done with that. Have been for a while. And once I graduate, that’s it . . . He doesn’t need me. I’m just one of a dozen spokes on his wheel. Rory’s got a whole network. Castle takes jobs to learn how places work and get access. They track celebs on Twitter. Nik cracks their emails and schedules. Hit ’em when they’re out of town.”

  “You gotta get away. Today,” Jake said.

  “I will . . .”

  “No. I mean it. Out of town.”

  Mona nodded tentatively, not sure exactly where Jake was going with this.

  “Listen to me.” Jake stared at her with deadly serious eyes. “Everything I’ve told you about me is true. It’s all real. But just like you, I left a couple of things out. One thing, actually. I’m the police, Mona.”

  “What?”

  “I’m a cop.”

  The truth hung like a venomous spider in the air. In that moment, Jake’s revelation was definitely more painful than the demolition in front of them. Mona put her hands to her temples, hyperventilating.

  “Oh god . . .”

  “Rory and everyone around him is goin’ down.”

  “You turned me in?”

  Jake shook his head. “They have no evidence when it comes to you. I made sure of that. If you want out, this is your chance. I can save you, save your life—without a scratch. I can end all this. We can. But only if we do it together.”

  “What do you want me to do?”