Death and Dark Money

by Seeley James

  She took off, taking the stairs two at a time.

  At the top of the stairs, in a small room, under a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, Pia’s father sat on a wooden box. Jacob, Dhanpal, and Miguel stood around him.

  Jacob was in the middle of speaking to Alan. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to stick my foot under your ass.”

  CHAPTER 46

  Broken shards of moonlight knifed through the clouds, illuminating the new snow and fresh bloodstains. From the arrow slit in the Witch Tower, Shane Diabulus considered his next move. He knew what he had to do and knew it would not be easy. He cursed and kicked the wall and lifted the plywood off the floor, reopening the unfinished ceiling below. He quietly retrieved the workman’s ladder and dropped it down to the second floor where it knocked over a paint can with a crash.

  Diabulus’s heart stopped. He froze and listened.

  A cold breeze rounded the towers with a soft moan. A mouse scurried somewhere on the lower floor. The paint dripped. Everything outside was still.

  He calculated his danger. The Sabel agents had checked the tower and considered the construction equipment unmolested, so a noise coming from there would alert them. But the castle’s grounds were huge and the walls thick, the sound might not travel far. If it did, he could only hope they were too preoccupied and too distant to notice.

  After a few seconds, he moved again. He swung his legs over the edge and tested his weight. It held. He climbed down. He checked out the lower window on two sides: all clear. He slid down the scaffolding to the ground floor and slipped outside into the snow.

  He found Kasey Earl unconscious where the Sabel agents left him, bound and propped against the wall.

  He hefted the man over his shoulder and retreated to the squire’s house. Once inside, he dropped Kasey in a chair and cut the plasticuffs from his ankles and wrists. Kasey’s eyes lacked focus and his head wobbled.

  He slapped the earless man. “What country are you in?”

  Kasey smiled. “Toledo.”

  “Shit.” Shane paced the small room. “I should’ve killed Jacob in Tokyo. Why did I listen to that old drunk?”

  “You have anger management issues.”

  Shane stopped midstride. “Kasey, are you with me?”

  “Sure, buddy.” Kasey smiled.

  “What city are you in?”

  “Harrogate?”

  Shane shook his head. “You’ve got to pull yourself together. You were in a blast zone, but you can clear your head.”

  Kasey nodded. “It wasn’t cuz Tania whupped me upside the head when the others wasn’t looking?”

  “You remember that?” Shane ran to him and shook him by the arms. “How many men do you have left?”

  “Hey, when did you get here?”

  “After they landed. Where are your other men?”

  “You didn’t help much.” Kasey looked ill. He swayed, then put his head between his knees and barfed.

  Shane backpedaled fast. He turned to a window and surveyed the snowy courtyard. “You’ve lost them all, haven’t you?”

  Kasey spit and coughed up something and spit again.

  Shane faced him. “Thirty-two men against six. You let one Mexican take out twelve men.”

  Kasey looked up, his eyes focused for the first time. “You seen that? You was here when they landed. Why didn’t you take that guy out? He had a SAW.”

  “Where’d they take Hyde? Hellman sent me to get Hyde.”

  Kasey rose, stepped into Shane’s personal space and stared. “You musta been behind him to know it was one guy. You shoulda taken him out.”

  Shane pushed Kasey back. “Officers have to stay out of the fray.”

  “Our major used to march with us. He even gone on patrol with me once.” Kasey stepped up to Shane. “You’re a coward. You let us die out there.”

  “You ruined my company, you son of a bitch.” Shane pounded him with a right hook. “You’ve wrecked everything. Why am I surrounded by idiots?”

  Shane stormed outside into the cold winter air before remembering he was outnumbered. Keeping to the shadows, he slinked across the courtyard to the gambling house and searched it. He checked the destroyed Eifel House and decided no one in there was alive. Next, he made his way across the citadel to the main tower.

  He snuck in and saw Jago and Hyde wearing suicide vests. He backpedaled before they saw him.

  Small, distant sounds came from the upper floors. Sabel and her squad.

  Shane slipped back outside and returned to the squire’s house.

  Kasey was gone.

  He opened his comm link. “Kasey, where are you? You have to help me get Hyde out of here.”

  No answer.

  Noises came from the chapel. He ran down the steps across the corner of the courtyard and stood in front of a large open door.

  Kasey pushed a Ducati Scrambler out of the dark.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Shane asked.

  Kasey glared at him. “Getting the hell outta here.”

  “I need that bike. I need to get Hyde to safety.”

  “Not my problem. I quit.” Kasey hopped on the Scrambler and tried to kick-start it.

  In his still-wobbly state, he lost his balance and fell over, leaving one leg pinned under the bike.

  Shane pulled his SIG-Sauer and aimed at Kasey.

  The young man stopped struggling. “You wouldn’t bother taking out one Mexican with a SAW, but all a’sudden you grow the balls to shoot me in cold blood? Figures.”

  “You’re going to help me get Hyde out of here.”

  “Why? Who cares about that old goat?” Kasey extricated his leg and stood up.

  “Katy Hellman cares about him. She’s paying for his extraction. And I care about him. He owns LOCI and most of Velox.”

  “Tough shit.” Kasey raised the motorcycle and swung a leg over.

  Shane lifted his SIG.

  “How do you expect me to help you if you shoot me?” Kasey looked disgusted.

  “If you think you’ll be alive ten yards from here, think again.”

  “All right. Here, hold the bike, I’ll get my rifle.” Kasey dismounted and shoved the Ducati toward Shane.

  Instinctively, Shane grabbed the four-hundred-pound bike with both hands as it knocked him off-balance. He looked up in time to see Kasey pull his pistol and shoot him in the eye.

  Shane fell over, the Ducati on top, crushing him.

  “I am so sick of you and your bullshit.” Kasey’s voice was strange and distant. “You people think you’re smarter’n me. You cut my ears off and order me around like I was stupid or something. Well, I got news for all you morons: I ain’t taking shit from nobody, no more.”

  Shane Diabulus felt Kasey’s pistol press against his forehead, he heard the second shot, but he didn’t feel the bullet enter his brain. He felt his heart beat once, twice—and that was it. He fell down a dark hole for a long time. Then he was dead.

  CHAPTER 47

  I took off one boot while everyone in the room stared at me. “They told him he’s sitting on a trigger. If he moves, the bomb goes off. So—I’m going to stick my foot under him and see if I can locate it.”

  No one spoke.

  Alan Sabel, whose billion-dollar butt was about to be prodded, won the prize for most stunned look.

  “Why not use your hand?” Dhanpal asked. “Your fingers have more nerve endings so you could tell what’s going on.”

  “Cause I’d rather lose a foot than a hand.”

  That statement sobered everyone up fast. Especially Ms. Sabel. When she joined the party, she had the same look on her face that everyone else had: Oh sure, Jacob will get us out of this.

  Back in the war zones, I’d known more than one bombsquid who miscalculated something and—BANG. Lives and limbs can disappear in a split second. This was a game with no second chances.

  In the corner, Seven-Death rested his elbow on Mercury’s shoulder. They looked on with the usua
l fascination the immortals have when witnessing earthlings risking their lives. I wondered if they were betting on the outcome the way God and Satan bet on Job.

  I said, Got any great ideas?

  Mercury said, Not my millennium, bro. Spears, arrows, shields, burning oil I understand, but this shit’s over my head. Last’s year’s keynote speaker at the gods convention made a logical argument for letting y’all torch the nuclear stockpiles so we could deal with you on the back side.

  I said, What god would say a thing like that?

  Buddha.

  I checked out the box. I’d seen two pounds of C4 destroy a Humvee. The box we were dealing with could hold fifty.

  It was the most awkward of social situations. No one wanted to be there. No one wanted to watch. Yet no one could look away.

  It didn’t escape my notice that none of them offered to take my place, either.

  From as far away as I could stand and still reach, I took a deep breath and wiggled my toes under Alan Sabel’s rear end. He leaned away. I couldn’t blame him.

  “Don’t do that,” I said. “Keep your weight even. Please.”

  “Yeah. Sorry.” He stared at his daughter. “Pia, you should leave. Just in case.”

  Everyone in the room turned to her. It was a big decision: Should you watch your father die? Is being in the next room somehow better?

  She stepped right in front of him, picked up his hand, and held it to her cheek. “If anything happens to you, it better finish us both.”

  I choked.

  My foot found the switch.

  Maybe.

  A patch about three inches square felt spring-loaded. The box was made of old, thin plywood, which could flex a good deal. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling a soft spot, or the detonator.

  Ms. Sabel turned away. “Miguel, go get Kasey.”

  Dhanpal went with him, the two clunking down the stairs, glad for a distraction from the tension.

  Sweat formed on Alan’s brow. I felt a rivulet run down my cheek.

  I took a deep breath. “So here’s the procedural question: if I find it, how sensitive is it? If I press down too hard, will that set it off?”

  Alan and Pia stared at each other.

  Pia said, “Hold it steady. Neither up, nor down.”

  “Depending on how strong the spring is, I’m not sure my foot is at the right angle to hold it down.”

  “Let’s wait for Kasey.” Pia stroked her father’s hand.

  “You think he’s going to tell us?” Alan asked.

  “He might have some good ideas if he’s in the blast zone.”

  A distant gunshot echoed outside. Our ears perked up.

  “I’m on it.” Tania was out the door and down five steps when she spoke.

  I was alone in the room with Alan and Pia Sabel, and neither of them was going anywhere.

  “While we wait,” I said. “I think it’s time you two talked about something.”

  For the first time since I’d met her, Pia Sabel’s face turned white as cream cheese.

  “What?” Alan asked with the clueless tone of voice reserved for fathers.

  “Clear the air about things from long ago. You know, talk like you do in family therapy, only without the therapist.”

  Alan looked at Pia. She shrugged.

  “For a while now, your daughter has been asking me to pry information out of you about her parents’ murders. She thinks you know something you’re not telling her.”

  “We’ve been over this with shrinks a hundred times.” Alan’s head sagged and shook back and forth.

  “The trouble with that scenario is that therapists aren’t professional killers. They don’t understand the logistical problem.”

  He turned to me. “What does that mean?”

  “The police investigation shows two guys broke into her house while she was cutting up veggies with her mom. One guy killed her dad and stole a hard drive. The other guy strangled her mom while she watched. She grabbed the vegetable knife and stabbed the guy several times. One of those stab wounds sliced his femoral artery and he bled out. That’s when you, the neighbor, came in.”

  Ms. Sabel said, “That’s how I remember it.”

  “Kids remember stories funny,” I said. “Memories can feel real if the story is repeated often enough. That’s why siblings argue about childhood events. They’ve heard the story about a sibling so many times they think it happened to them.”

  Alan said, “Well, that’s what happened.”

  “See, that’s where I come in.” I took a moment to look at each of them. “I’ve stabbed a guy to death. It’s not easy. The femoral artery is under a lot of muscle. She’s strong, but she was four. I doubt even a strong, motivated four-year-old could reach the artery.”

  Alan’s face grew red, his gaze swept back and forth between us. He fixed his angriest look on me.

  See, this is why I never liked therapy. Emotions go haywire and I get the blame every time. Last time an ex-girlfriend dragged me in for therapy, I swore off it for life.

  Mercury said, You did promise to marry her, bro. And you promised her sister the same. That was wrong.

  I said, How was I supposed to know they took me seriously?

  Mercury said, Even Romans, who had a divorce rate slightly lower than you guys, took their vows seriously.

  I said, What about the Roman orgies?

  Mercury and Seven-Death gave each other knowing, nostalgic looks and bumped fists.

  Mercury said, Yeah, those were good times, homie.

  I faced Alan. “Even I can tell you’re holding something back. Just tell her what you’re hiding. It feels good to get things off your chest. It lightens your soul.”

  Alan’s rage exploded. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  I would never make it as a Buddhist or a real Christian. They react to adversity with calmness. When someone yells at me, my anger takes off and I shovel it right back.

  My voice jumped up a hundred decibels. “I’m the guy who’s risking his life to save yours.”

  “You think that gives you the right to ‘lighten’ my soul?”

  “Yeah. I think she deserves a straight answer.” I caught a glimpse of Ms. Sabel with an embarrassed look on her face.

  “I made her a billionaire. I didn’t do that out of guilt or hate or shame. I did it because she deserved it.” He leaped to his feet and poked a finger in my chest. “You don’t deserve shit. You hear me? You think you’re important enough to go digging around in people’s souls? You think you can handle that?”

  “Yes I do.” Our voices were ringing the stonework.

  “Then why don’t you ask her why she quit the National Team?” He was in my face, nose to nose. “She was at the height of her career. She was the best in the world. She set more records than anyone her age. And she walked out hours before a game. Never looked back. Did you ever ask her why?”

  My mouth opened but no words came out.

  Ms. Sabel’s face was down, staring at the ground, her arms wrapped around her father, her head on his shoulder.

  I looked at his feet.

  Then I looked up at him.

  I spoke softly. “Um, you’re off the box.”

  He spun around as if I’d shouted “snake”.

  We turned in unison to the box where my outstretched foot held down a metal plate. The trigger was secured for now.

  But my sock was dirty.

  At times like this, when your foot is all that stands between life and death, you regret blowing off that last load of laundry before you left town. I prayed to the real God: Please don’t let me die with dirty socks.

  “You did it!” He grabbed me by the shoulders, ready to jump for joy.

  “NO-No-no! Don’t jiggle my foot.”

  “Oh, right.” He turned and swept up Ms. Sabel. They shouted and bounced with happiness.

  Sometimes family therapy ends with hugs. Even if nothing was resolved.

  Miguel came bounding up the stairs with Kasey
Earl draped over his shoulder. “Guess who Kasey just killed?”

  Dhanpal came in behind him and told the story of finding Shane’s body beneath Kasey’s smoking gun. We shook his hand and patted him on the back.

  Tania came in and reported Jago and Hyde missing, but we weren’t too worried about how far they could get in explosive vests before a thumb would slip off the detonator.

  Ms. Sabel swept Kasey’s feet out from under him. She grabbed a handful of hair and pushed his nose to my foot. She said, “Kasey, Jacob is going to pull his foot off the trigger. You’re going to hold it down with your nose. Understand?”

  Kasey gasped something resembling an affirmative.

  I pulled my foot out.

  She let go of his head.

  Kasey did his best to hold his nose on the trigger. “Hey guys. Whoa. Where you going? Wait a second here. Hey. You’re not leaving are you? Hold on. Hey! Jacob! Tania. C’mon guys, this ain’t funny…”

  CHAPTER 48

  Cool, predawn light spread across the tranquil landscape, glowing blue in the snow as Pia and her team began their search of the grounds. Before they reached the outer courtyard, Dhanpal reported several emergency vehicles trapped behind an overturned Velox van at the bottom of the hill. One of Kasey’s ultimately unnecessary defenses.

  Miguel called in a sighting of Seyton and Hyde trying to unlock the massive gates. From their various corners of the castle, the team headed there. Pia came around a corner and fell in step with Tania.

  The pair wound their way across the body-strewn courtyard and past the gambling house.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Tania said. “Instead of waiting until you get too hard up for a boyfriend, we should do something proactive. Like set up a grotto back at Sabel Gardens and make the guys wear g-strings. Parade them around for some entertainment. You know what I’m saying?”

  Pia gave her a sideways glance. “You did not just say that.”

  “Oh, yes I did. It’s high time we turn the tables on the men in this world. The patriarchy has objectified us for centuries. I say we objectify their asses right back. You ever read about women in business back in the Fifties? Talk about harassment. They owe us for the Fifties alone.”