“Mark, it’s not Markie seeing them that I’m worried about. How could you?”
“I’m sorry, honey. But they’re nothing to be ashamed of. You put any model to shame. They’re beautiful. Much too beautiful to just discard like yesterday’s garbage.”
She was livid.
“When we get back over there… when we go back home, I want you to destroy those things. I want there to be no trace of them. No ghost files, no backups. Nothing. I swear, as God is my witness, if you don’t get rid of them once and for all I will strangle you with my bare hands.”
He looked at her and felt like a chastised little boy. She was bright red, both from embarrassment and from rage. And he didn’t know if she was more outraged at the men ogling over her photographs, or at her husband for allowing them the opportunity to.
“I trusted you, Mark. You let me down.”
“I know, honey. I’m sorry. And you have my word, I will destroy all traces of them as soon as we get back.”
At that precise moment three of the four men came out of the couple’s apartment and disappeared down the hallway and out of the camera’s view. They appeared to be in good spirits, and Hannah tried not to wonder why.
But Hannah was wrong.
She’d assumed that the four men were ogling over risqué photographs of her that her husband had taken years before on their honeymoon.
In reality, Alvarez had stumbled across a home video of Hannah playing with the basset hound she owned when she and Mark started dating. Alvarez was captivated by Hannah’s beauty, yes. But he was more captivated by the dog. For it reminded him of a dog he had when he was a boy, before he grew up and his life turned to shit. Everything about the dog, from the way his ears dragged the ground as Hannah chased him through the grass, to the way he waddled when he walked, to the markings on his head and body… they all reminded him of his dog Max.
And in a very rare display of humanity, Alvarez suddenly felt a need to show some of the others this dog, and to express his memories of his own pet, at another place and time. A place and time that wasn’t so harsh as the present.
The three men who were summoned were just glad not to be chewed out for something they did wrong. They let Alvarez talk, and would let him continue as long as he wanted to. Seeing this unknown, gentler side of their leader was a much better scenario that dealing with him at his worst.
Alvarez made an announcement to the others that this was his new home. This was his apartment, and his bed, and the others were to stay the hell out of it.
Once he felt secure enough to get some rest, he’d fall asleep watching a beautiful young girl and a memory from his past frolic together in the tall grass of an unfamiliar city park.
It would be only a brief respite from the harsh reality of an ugly world, he knew.
But he also knew his days could be numbered, and he had to take such opportunities as they came.
He understood that most of his crew thought him a heartless bastard. He’d actually intended it that way. In prison, one had to appear tough in order to survive. People preyed on the weak.
In a prison setting, there are two codes to live by. One is the prison code. Convicts more or less follow the rules of the prison because they have no choice. Privileges are few enough as it is. Failure to follow the rules results in even them being taken away.
But there’s a second code that must also be followed. The convict’s code. It’s a set of unwritten laws that must be obeyed. And when they’re not, retribution is often more swift and more severe than anything the hacks can dish out.
Rule number one in the convict code is that only the strong survive. And only the strongest thrive.
Alvarez thrived in such an environment because he never showed mercy. No one knew he had a softer side. They feared him. And they respected him. In prison, the two were closely intertwined.
He ensured the lookouts were relieved at midnight and went back to Hannah and Mark’s apartment to grab some sleep. He put the video on repeat and watched it as he lay on Hannah’s pillow, smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo lingering on the pillow case.
And he realized he’d made a huge mistake.
He had shown his soldiers that he had a tender side. And that just wouldn’t do.
He couldn’t take back what he’d done, telling the men about his boyhood pet and the fun times they’d had together. But he’d make damn sure it never happened again.
Tonight he’d sleep. Tomorrow he’d make a point to be more brutal than ever before.
Chapter 45
Mark went to bed that night in the dog house, and woke up the same way. Hannah was especially cold to him, and it didn’t get past little Markie.
“Daddy, did you make Mommy mad again?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so, little sailor.”
“Don’t worry. She won’t be mad long. She loves you. Even when she’s mad.”
“I know. But thanks for reminding me. You’re pretty smart for a six year old. You know that?”
“Yep. I know.”
Hannah walked over to see if Markie was dressed for school.
“Markie says you shouldn’t be mad at me, ‘cause you love me.”
“I can love you and be mad at you at the same time. I am very good at multi-tasking.”
“Yeah, well I can stand on my head and juggle chainsaws at the same time too. Just because you can do two things at once doesn’t always mean it’s a good idea.”
“I’ll tell you what. You show me how you can juggle chainsaws and I’ll stop being mad at you. But they have to be on and I get to sharpen the blades first.”
“Ouch. Harsh.”
“Baby, you let me down. I asked you to do something important and you didn’t. You have to allow me my time to be mad. You know I’ll get over it, but I have to go through the process first. And you can’t deny me of it.”
“I suppose I don’t get kisses until you’re finished being mad?”
“No. While I’m mad, Markie gets all my kisses.”
Markie giggled.
“And I suppose I shouldn’t even ask about all that other stuff?”
“Not unless you want to make me madder.”
Mark looked at his son and asked, “What do you think, Markie? Should I make her any madder?”
“That’s probably not a good idea, Dad.”
“Well, can I at least go to breakfast with you guys?”
Now Hannah consulted Markie.
“Should we let him eat breakfast with us, little sailor?”
“Of course. He’s my dad. Duh…”
Hannah gave Mark her best stern look.
“Okay. But you have to walk two steps behind us on the way over there.”
The three walked to the mine’s dining room to find the kitchen closed down and six cases of MREs on one of the tables. They’d left a limited amount of supplies behind when they vacated the mine. Luckily, one of them was coffee. It wasn’t as fresh as anyone liked it, but no one complained. Slightly stale coffee was better than no coffee at all.
The mood was somber on this particular morning. Those who hadn’t realized the day before how close they’d all come to being killed had had a chance to think about it during the night.
And they all realized how really lucky they all were.
Even Sami, the only gunshot casualty, realized that if the shot had been a few inches to her left, she wouldn’t have survived.
The chilling dose of reality that had finally set in during the previous few hours, and the fact that everyone was stiff and sore from the previous day’s physical labor left most of the group in surly moods.
But not everyone.
Bryan came into the dining room on crutches and hobbled over to the table where the three were having their breakfast.
“Good morning. What kind of delicacies are you three enjoying this fine morning?”
Hannah said, “Chicken a’la King. You want some? Seriously. The more you eat, the less I have to.”
&n
bsp; Mark said, “I’m not sure what this is, but I think it was food in a previous life.”
Bryan looked at Markie.
“I have scrambled eggs, Uncle Bryan. Do you want a taste?”
“No thanks, little guy. Actually, I’m not hungry. I just came by to ask your father if he wanted to trade some of his pictures for some of mine.”
He managed a smile, not sure if he was going to get a laugh or a punch in the face.
Hannah and Mark said, at more or less the same time, “Shut up, Bryan.”
Little Markie took exception.
“Hey, you told me it’s not nice to tell people to shut up.”
“Well, that’s true, little man. But it’s okay for big people to tell Uncle Bryan to shut up because, well, Uncle Bryan isn’t really a people.”
“Sure he is.”
“No. Seriously. Your Uncle Bryan was born on the planet Imbecile. So he’s kind of an alien, not a people.”
Markie’s eyes grew as big as saucers, but he cast his mother a suspicious glance. He wasn’t sure if he was being had.
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. I’m sure. And he even has green blood instead of red.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And if he ever says the word ‘pictures’ again in my presence I’ll prove it to you.”
Mark looked at the clock and said, “It’s time for you to go off to school, little man.”
“But my books and backpack aren’t here. They’re over at our other place.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure that Miss Karen has extras over here you can use for now.”
“Daddy, when can we go back? I don’t like it over here anymore.”
Mark struggled with an answer, but his brother came to the rescue.
“Come on, Markie. I’ll walk to school with you. But you’ll have to walk slow so I can keep up.”
“Okay. Deal.”
He kissed his Mom goodbye and gave Mark a hug, then went off to school.
Hannah waited until Markie and Bryan were out of sight before she gave her husband a stern warning.
“I know Bryan, and I know he will be bugging you for copies of those photos before you delete them. Just be aware that if you share them with him, and I ever find out, I will never speak to you again.”
“By never speaking to me again, that means no more yelling at me?”
“That means no more of anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Ouch. In that case, you have my solemn promise.”
Chapter 46
Alvarez awoke that morning to the same video playing on the monitor. It had been on repeat all night long, playing over and over again.
He stopped it. He’d done enough living in the past. It was time to get back to the present.
It was time to reestablish his reputation as a hardass. To fix whatever damage he’d done the evening before by letting some of his crew get a glimpse at his softer side.
He got up, stretched, and tried to check on his crew.
“Demos, this is Alvarez. What’s up at the gate?”
No answer.
“Demos, this is Alvarez. Come in.”
Nothing.
It never dawned on Alvarez that his radio might be dead. The only thing that occurred to him was that Demos had his own radio turned off or was sleeping on the job.
He rushed out to the gate to find out which, and to beat the crap out of Demos.
“Hey, what’s up, boss?”
“Why the hell didn’t you answer your radio?”
“The radios are all dead, man. They started going out one by one during the night.”
“Why didn’t somebody wake me?”
“We figured there was nothing you could do. And we figured you needed your rest after all the crap that went down yesterday.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make, ChoMo. I said to wake me up if anything went wrong.”
The truth was that nobody had the guts to wake up Alvarez.
Another truth was that no matter what Demos had done, it would have been wrong in Alvarez’ eyes. Alvarez didn’t like Demos. Despised him, in fact.
Mark Demos, and the other man with him guarding the gate, were convicted child molesters. In a prison hierarchy, child molesters are called ChoMos by the other prisoners. They are on the lowest rung of the ladder, abused by convicts and prison guards alike.
And these two, Demos and Joe Warren, were hated by everyone.
Alvarez wasn’t even sure why they hadn’t been killed long before. For some reason, Skully had taken a liking to both of them and had taken them under his wing. They’d been on Skully’s crew for so long everyone else was used to having them around. But that didn’t make them any more welcome. They were still, and always would be, outcasts.
Alvarez was tempted to just blow them away himself, to cleanse their ranks. But now wasn’t a good time. He needed all the bodies he could get, to ward off the attack he was sure was coming. And these two ChoMos, while they weren’t much good for much else, could pull guard duty and shoot.
So he’d let them live a little longer. But he wouldn’t tolerate any crap from them.
Alvarez turned to go back into the building to search for radio batteries when he heard a scraping noise on the other side of the gate.
“What the hell is that?”
Warren laughed.
“Oh, that’s just Steiger. He crawled all the way over here from where he got shot yesterday. Said he wants in. We’re just waiting for him to die.”
“Open the damn gate.”
Another thing Demos and Warren did well was follow orders. Because they were afraid not to.
The two shoved the gate to one side and Alvarez grabbed Steiger by the shirt collar and dragged him into the yard.
“Steiger, why are you wasting my damn time? Why haven’t you died yet?”
The man looked up at Alvarez with glazed eyes. He tried to form words, but couldn’t get anything out. His mouth was a foamy pink, and he was slowly drowning in his own blood.
Alvarez obviously couldn’t be bothered. He stood up and drew the Glock handgun from his holster and shot the wounded man in the forehead.
He knew that went a long way to further his rep as a man who did not play. At least in the minds of Demos and Warren.
But that wasn’t enough. He reholstered his handgun, stood over Steiger’s body, and relieved himself on the dead man’s face.
As Alvarez emptied his bladder, Demos and Warren laughed. Joe Warren, in particular, giggled like a school girl, obviously enjoying the show.
When he was finished, Alvarez growled, “Drag this piece of crap over to the burn pit with the others. Then put some gas on the bodies and set them on fire before they start to stink this place up.”
Alvarez went through all the cabinets at the compound’s security control desk, looking for radio batteries. He found several, still in boxes marked “Motorola MX-310.” But they were for a different model of radios and were worthless to him.
He was pissed, more at himself than anything else. He’d trusted that scumbag Skully to take care of all the details. They’d come to this place intent on taking it over, and staying here for the long term. How could they have forgotten spare batteries and a charging station for them? How the hell were they going to maintain security without radios?
And, most importantly, why in hell did he trust somebody like Skully to plan for something like this?
He knew he should have asked more questions. He shouldn’t have taken Skully at his word when Skully said he had a handle on everything.
Skully couldn’t put both hands on his own ass at the same time. Yet Alvarez trusted him to be the brains of this operation.
What else was he overlooking? What else was going to go wrong?
He thought about sending the ChoMos back to the prison to get additional batteries and a charging unit. But then he thought better of it. He needed every body he could muster if th
e attack came soon. And he didn’t trust the ChoMos. If they were stopped leaving the area and taken alive, they’d sing like canaries. They’d tell their adversaries exactly how many men were in the compound and where.
No. He couldn’t risk sending anyone back for the radios. He’d just have to win the next battle and steal some from the other side.
He went up to the roof to check on his crew.
“It looks like we’re going to have to operate without radios. If you see anyone, fire a single shot to let everybody else know the attack is coming. And I’ll be up here as fast as I can to help out.”
He gave the same instructions to the ChoMos at the front gate, and to the two men patrolling the yard.
Then he paced back and forth and waited for an assault he was sure was coming. He just didn’t know when.
Chapter 47
Mark and Hannah walked over to the security desk. Helen was taking her turn at the console, and John was there reading the logbook entries from the night before. It was basically a rundown of things that went on with the men occupying their compound.
Mark said, “Good morning. Anything interesting in there?”
“No, not much. They’ve established rooftop and gate surveillance, two sentries at each location. They’ve apparently broken down into shifts. Half of them are sleeping during the daytime and half at night.
“We’ve been able to count heads. There appear to be thirteen of them total.”
He pointed to Alvarez on monitor 5, walking through the kitchen.
“We believe that this is the man in charge. It appears that people keep coming to him for instructions, then leaving again.”
“He’s a big sucker.”
“Yes, and he’s moved into your place, by the way. That’s where he slept last night.”
Mark and Hannah looked at each other but didn’t say anything.
“Do tell? Well, I hope he cleans up after himself. I don’t want to have to clean up after him when we chase those creeps back out of there.”
“Indications are that he’s a mean one. They left a wounded man on the outside. The one who was shot through the wall just before they attacked the gate. Apparently he was able to crawl to the gate looking for help and was pleading with them to let him in. The big guy had them open the gate, but instead of helping the guy the big man shot him. Then he pissed on his body. The two men guarding the gate appeared to get a kick out of that.
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