by Barry Reese
“You think Tamaki knows that I’m still alive?”
“That’s confirmed,” Mitchell said, speaking up before Mortimer got the chance. “Our sources at the morgue say there was a man who came by last night asking about you. When he was told that you were still alive, the man left in a hurry.”
“What about Pandora?”
This time it was Cedric’s turn to answer. Charity noticed that the normally boisterous businessman looked a bit deflated this morning. “The woman whose body she’s inside of is named Sandra Locke. Small-time hustler with a knack for winning the hearts of influential men, she’s been associated with Hiroshi Tamaki and Quick Dan Nunn for awhile now.” Gesturing to Mortimer, Cedric added, “And we know where she is.”
Mortimer nodded his thanks and picked up the narrative. “Around 3:30 am, Tamaki sent down an order for drinks. I slipped the guy a five who was taking them up to let me know if he saw a woman matching Locke’s description. He did.”
“But none of you saw her enter the hotel?” The question was directed at all of them but Charity looked at Li as she asked it.
The young Chinese-American shrugged her slender shoulders. “She had to have come through a service entrance unless she scuttled up the building like a spider.”
“Mortimer, do you think that Bright Eyes is going to be able to spot them when they move out? If Li and Cedric – who are pretty damned capable – didn’t see Pandora, what makes you think this stoolie will?”
“For one thing, that was one woman, one very experienced woman. When they leave today, they’ll be moving an entire operation. We’re talking at least 14-16 men, plus their luggage and equipment. Bright Eyes got that nickname because he doesn’t miss a thing. He’ll see them.”
“Okay. I trust you.” Charity plucked up her knife and fork, digging in to her sausage. “After breakfast, we head out.”
UNFORTUNATELY FOR GRAVEDIGGER, things were already in motion that would render that timetable moot.
Bright Eyes was a thin man with pockmarked cheeks that were well known in the underworld. His tendency to loudly chew gum only further added to his notoriety. While it was true that he scarcely missed anything with that roving gaze of his, his role as an informant for the police had not won him any friends amongst the criminal class. In fact, many of them were eager to make him pay.
When one of Tamaki’s gang recognized Bright Eyes and mentioned his presence to his employer, the Japanese crime lord put two and two together: they were being watched.
For a moment, Hiroshi had considered taking Bright Eyes as a captive. He would have had the man tortured and left for Gravedigger to find as a warning but there were perils to such an action and he had no desire to tempt fate any further.
Instead, he left the hotel via a staff exit, taking Pandora, Dr. Craig and Prof. Potter with him. Their belongings would be shipped out later, though the ETD was valuable enough that Hiroshi carried it himself. To cover the flight of the others, along with all of the bags and equipment, his men were given strict instructions to sound the fire alarm approximately twenty minutes after Hiroshi had gone.
These orders were carried out to the letter, which led to Bright Eyes being evacuated along with everyone else. The informant scanned the crowd and when he realized that there was no sign of Tamaki or the others he’d been told to watch out for, he hurried to the phone to call Hendry Hall.
By then, Tamaki was boarding a private plane.
PANDORA STARED OUT the window, her eyes wide. Down below, the countryside looked so small. It was like she was one of the gods or goddesses of Mount Olympus, looking down upon the rest of humanity from afar.
“All of that is going to be yours.”
Pandora glanced at Hiroshi as he slid into the seat next to hers. He had splashed on more cologne and she wondered idly if modern women were susceptible to its musk. To her, it was a maddening scent, one that stank of lies and broken promises.
“You look displeased,” he said, his eyes narrowing.
“You seek power for its own sake?” she asked. “I’ve seen more men than I could count who did that and it never made any sense to me. It’s obviously a byproduct of Greed and Pride but I do wonder why it affects your gender more than mine.”
Hiroshi threw his head back and laughed. “It’s just in our natures, my beloved. Women and men both desire power, it’s just the way we go about it that differs. Men want dominance. They want the badges of office, the respectful fear in their enemy’s eyes. They want to be able to take whatever they please without even having to lift a hand. Women, now, women prefer to seek the power of the heart. They seek out the most desirable mate and do whatever it takes to capture him. Then they mold him and his seed into the perfect family, lying and stealing to provide for them. They say they do this out of a desire to provide for their loved ones but it’s just another form of power. Women want men to be dependent upon them for food, sex and emotional fulfillment. Their children are taught to cry and run to them for protection. In these ways, women hold on to their small little empires.” Hiroshi waved a hand. “It’s all the same thing. My empire will just be bigger than a woman’s, that’s all.”
“I don’t care for power,” Pandora replied, her voice very low and husky. “I have seen what it does to people. It dries them up like husks and then blows them apart. All I care about is undoing the damage I’ve done, and if it means destroying the entire world, I’d be willing to do that.”
“Power,” Hiroshi said. “That’s what everything comes down to. You want the ability to decide if the world is fit to live. You want to stand in judgment over every man, woman and child to determine if they live up to your standard. That’s biggest use of power I’ve ever heard of: the power of life and death.”
“You don’t understand.”
“But I do! You feel extreme guilt but I tell you, it’s not necessary. I can’t fathom what the world was like before you opened that box but I’d wager that men and women lied, stole and murdered before you did a thing. It’s human nature.”
“The world was more pure before I committed my crime,” Pandora argued. “There were bad people, yes, but things spiraled so badly out of control after I set the demons free.”
Hiroshi reached out and took her hand. She flinched at his touch but did not withdraw. “Look around you. See all that we’ve accomplished and a lot of it is because of our pride, our jealousy, our wrath. Don’t focus on the sins you unleashed but upon all the good things that have spun out of them. Without those base desires, man and woman would still live in shacks, eating off the land. But no more! We don’t have to eke out an existence like that any more. Now we can seize the very heavens! We fly through the air, float over the water and create weapons that lay waste to mountains! No longer do we seek the protection of gods – we are gods!”
Pandora yanked her hand free, her eyes narrowed. “Lust. Gluttony. Greed. Sloth. Wrath. Envy. Pride. Those are the bane of mankind’s existence. And I unleashed them. I will help you only so far as you help me. We will burn those sins out of the human condition.”
Hiroshi paused, looking away from her. When he spoke, his voice was cold but certain. “I do understand, my love. You help me and I will help you.”
IT WAS JUST after dusk when Frankie Bean slid the key into the lock of his apartment door. He was beyond tired, having reached the point where his features were fixed into one expression. Smiling, frowning, doing anything of the kind, really all of that would have required more energy than he could spare.
Frankie was a driver, one of the very best in the city. He’d worked for all the big names: Doc Pemberley, The Undying, Thanatos. All of them had known he was the best when it came to losing a police pursuit or for high-tailing it through the dark, rain-slicked streets of Sovereign. He knew every curve of every avenue.
Today he’d put in a lot of hours behind the wheel. First, he’d driven Hiroshi Tamaki and his crew to the airport. Then he’d played taxi driver for one goon after another, all of whom w
ere cleaning out Tamaki’s apartments and safe houses.
It paid well but it was both nerve wracking and exhausting.
Perhaps it was that exhaustion that caused his normally highly attuned senses to fail him. As he let the door slam shut behind him, he tossed his keys to a small table nearby. He was already fumbling with his jacket and tie before he even bothered reaching for the light.
That was when she got him.
A strong grip seized him by the wrist, whirling him about. He slammed into a chair, sprawling into it so hard that it tumbled over. The back of his head slammed to the floor and for a moment all he saw was stars, bursting before his eyes. Then the lights came on and the most frightening sight imaginable took shape before him.
Sovereign was home to a lot of mystery men, guys who put on a mask or who adopted some colorful second identity, all so they could put the screws to guys like Frankie. Doc Daye, The Dark Gentleman, Lazarus Gray, Fortune McCall; the names were like a who’s who of crime busters.
But all of those guys were pretty straight-and-narrow. Oh, sure, they killed from time to time but for the most part they were content to let the justice system do its work, even when that work was stifled by graft and outright corruption, like it was in Sovereign.
There was one exception, though.
The Gravedigger.
All Frankie knew of her came from whispered conversations in seedy dives but he’d sensed that nearly every word had been true: she wore a red-and-black bodysuit that covered her from head-to-toe and she carried enough weapons to be considered a walking arsenal. She struck from the shadows, landing on her enemies like living darkness. Unlike Gray and the others, she almost always left bodies in her wake. In fact, some of the boys Frankie knew said that Gravedigger enjoyed her work.
Gravedigger knelt atop his chest, driving a knee hard into his sternum. As he groaned in pain, she directed her right hand between his eyes. Frankie saw the point of a miniature crossbow and then felt it against his skin.
“Frankie,” the woman said. Her voice sounded cold but something about it made him think that under that mask, she was a real looker. It was the kind of voice that could make a man weak, even without the added power of a weapon in her hands. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.
“Yes,” Frankie whispered. He hated the way his voice sounded as he answered. He wished he could summon up the courage to spit at her, to call her names, to tell her he didn’t fear her or her crossbow.
There wasn’t enough bravery in his heart for that. In fact, he was pretty sure he was on the verge of wetting himself.
“Good,” she said. “Then we can skip past the introductions and get straight to the good part. I know you drove Hiroshi Tamaki to the airport today but I don’t have a clue where he went after that. There’s no record of him having bought a ticket so he must have done it under an assumed name.”
Frankie swallowed hard. He knew that this was a bad situation to be in. Gravedigger was a killer and if he tried to play hardball, she might decide to move on to another goon in hopes that she could get the info she wanted. Hell, she might kill him no matter what he did.
But if he told her the truth and she let him live, Tamaki would have him shot like a dog in the street. He had men who were still loyal to him in this city and they wouldn’t allow this kind of betrayal to just slide.
“You’re thinking too hard. Tell me where he went.” The point of the arrow dug hard into his skin and Frankie felt something warm and wet ooze from the area.
“He’ll have me killed,” Frankie whined.
“You can die now or die later.”
Sudden hope flared in Frankie’s heart and he blurted out, “Would you protect me? Until you’d killed Tamaki, I mean? You’re going to do that, right?”
“I am going to kill him, yes.”
“So, you’ll put me up someplace?”
Gravedigger twisted the edged point, drawing a little ‘x’ into his flesh. Frankie squealed like a stuck pig. “Where. Did. He. Go?”
“Washington, D.C.!” Frankie hissed. “He got on a plane and flew to the capital!”
“Who went with him?”
“Locke. She’s almost always with him but she was acting crazy today. Different.”
“Anyone else?”
“Some old professor. I don’t know his name! And another guy, too.”
Gravedigger nodded as if she already knew some of that information. “Thanks, Frankie.” She stood up and studied him from beneath that hood of hers. “I’m going to do you better than you wanted.”
Frankie pushed himself up onto his elbows. “You are?”
“I could use someone like you. A driver who knows all the ins-and-outs of the city could be useful.”
“You want… to hire me?” he asked, scarcely believing this turn of events.
“I’m not paying you, Frankie. You’re working for free. Consider it public service to pay off the tremendous debt you owe to society.”
“But I have to eat!”
“You’ll continue to take jobs like usual. They pay you well, don’t they?”
“You want me to be a stoolie!”
“And, on occasion, a driver for me and my agents. You can say no if you want.”
Frankie saw her wrist twitch and he knew that a negative answer would not be accepted in a positive manner. He looked away, rubbing his chin. “I’ll do what I have to do. Are you just gonna contact me when you need me or is there some way I can call you?”
He looked up when she didn’t answer. To his amazement, she was gone, having vanished like a wraith.
GRAVEDIGGER SLID INTO the passenger seat, quickly removing her mask and letting it drop onto her lap. She pulled on an overcoat and looked over at Mitchell, who was already pulling the car back onto the city street. “Frankie’s onboard.”
“Good. He’s a talented bloke, from what I’ve heard.” Mitchell glanced at her. “Where are we headed?”
“Stop at the next phone booth you see and call the others. We need to book a flight to Washington.”
“Didn’t expect Tamaki to head to D.C.”
“I’m not sure what they’re up to but it can’t be anything good. Pandora’s with him and so is Doctor Craig. The old man that Bright Eyes reported on was confirmed by Frankie.”
“I’ve got a name,” Mitchell muttered.
“You do?” Gravedigger smiled. “You amaze me.”
“Can’t take the credit, though I’d love to. It was Li. She spent some time flirting with the desk clerk at the hotel and he finally coughed up the name Professor Potter. He’s done some government work but some of his crazier experiments got him blacklisted. He’s been looking to people like Tamaki for funding for awhile.”
“What kind of experiments?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. Mind control.”
Chapter VIII: On the Precipice of the Abyss
Mortimer was not a happy man.
Despite Mortimer’s faith in Bright Eyes, Hiroshi had managed to escape the city and now Gravedigger’s team was forced into the role of pursuing the master criminal.
The former insurance investigator knew how important it was to strike when the opportunity presented itself. Who knew if Hiroshi would be in such a position again?
Silently stewing in his seat on the plane, Mortimer tried to calm himself. During his own tenure as Gravedigger, he’d had nearly as many failures as successes. The key was to never give up, to always follow through on the hunt. Charity was doing that and that meant that Mortimer himself might yet get a chance to redeem himself in her eyes.
Why is that so important to me? he wondered. He’d initially assumed it was a combination of boredom and curiosity that had led him to Charity’s side but the longer he was with her, the more he knew that wasn’t quite the truth.
He was lonely.
As a handsome man with a rather rakish bent, Mortimer had rarely lacked for female companionship. But over the years, women had begun to bore him. It wasn’t just the fac
t that their lives seemed so short in comparison to his own, though that certainly played a part. They lacked the emotional or historical understanding to truly understand him. Even if he told them the truth about himself, how could they really conceive of what it was like to die and be revived by The Voice? They’d never know the all-consuming fear of having a deadline for your soul to be judged, to lie awake at night and wonder if you were doing the right thing or if you were doomed to be condemned to eternal torment?
All people had those fears, of course, to one degree or another. But to know, beyond doubt that your day was coming, that added a whole new level of torment to your mind.
Charity understood. Of their entire group, only the two of them could truly know what being a Gravedigger was.
He desired her, not just for her beauty but also for her ability to empathize. He wanted to talk about their shared experiences and the changes those experiences had wrought.
“Such serious thoughts.”
Mortimer looked up as Li slid into the seat next to his. She smelled sweet and the floral scent lightened his mood. “I can’t help it. Knowing this guy is about to try and mind control the populace is pretty dark business.”
“And here I thought you were fantasizing about Charity.”
Mortimer’s jaw fell open and he blushed from the top of his head all the way down his neck. Li covered her face and giggled. Lowering his voice, Mortimer glanced up a few rows, where Charity and Mitchell were seated. Neither of them seemed to have heard Li’s words. “Why would you say that?”
“Well, she is very pretty and she seems more your type than I am.”
“I find you attractive.”
“Thank you but I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.” Li paused as two of the stewardesses walked past, followed by the copilot. She wondered if there was a problem in the back but if there was, she was sure they would have made an announcement. Mitchell, who had bribed one of the airport attendants to find one on short notice, had chartered this private plane. So far, the crew had seemed quite capable. “Everyone has their preferences,” Li continued. “You seem to like Western girls and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
