The James Mentzer Orphanage sat on three acres of pristine grassland about three miles outside of Honolulu. Dillon had purchased the land using the bulk of his savings and a sizable inheritance left to him by James. The upkeep was another issue.
When Dillon walked in through the double doors and took off his sunglasses, he was accosted by two assistants and an administrator who needed signatures for supplies. “Guys, just give them to Jaime. She’s the executive director.”
Seemingly deaf to anything he said, they continued to all speak at once as he made his way down the hall to his office. A little chubby girl ran to him and threw her arms around his right leg. He tried to move, but she hung on as if she would fall into a hole if she let go.
“Sophia, honey, I need to get to my office.”
“You said you would come have tea with me tonight. With me and Emily.”
“Emily’s your dog, right?”
“Yes, and she will be very upset if you don’t come.”
“Man, are all of you out to get me?”
She looked up at him with soft brown eyes.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I see what you’re doing. Don’t do it.”
She swallowed, and her lips turned down into a frown. “I’m lonely. I just want someone to play with me.”
“Who taught you that? Was it Jaime? Did Jaime teach you that?”
Letting go of his leg, the girl giggled and then scurried off. He turned to the three men following him, holding up his finger for quiet. “A minute, please. And then you can suck as much blood as you want. I promise.” He stepped into his office and shut the door behind him.
Jaime sat behind his desk, a mountain of paperwork in front of her and a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Your adoring public can’t get enough of you, huh?”
Dillon collapsed in a chair across from her. “I’ve stopped answering my phone.”
“We’re going broke, Dillon. They’re just scared and looking to you for leadership.”
“I don’t have any to give. I opened this place thinking I could hire people to run it so I wouldn’t have to. What the hell do I know about running a business?”
“You ran a pretty good one not too long ago.”
“I hunted for gold and jewels then swindled native people out of them. That’s not exactly running Google.”
She shrugged. “You could always sell.”
Dillon looked out the window. Just off the tree line was the encroaching strip mall and condominiums put up by Briar Development. Dustin Briar had been trying to purchase the land the orphanage was on for the past year.
“That guy is so slimy,” Dillon said.
“Who? Dustin? He’s not so bad.”
“You’re just saying that cause you dated him.”
“I didn’t date him. We went to one dance in high school. And now he’s a rich real estate developer who could have any woman he wants.”
“And you’re stuck in a failing orphanage with an ex-treasure hunter. You could always go ask him out.”
“I could.”
“I know you could. But you won’t.”
“Oh, really? And why’s that?”
“Something about me all alone, trying to keep the orphanage afloat wouldn’t sit well with you.”
“We could use that money to build a new orphanage on one of the other islands. Somewhere cheaper.”
“I like it here. And these kids have been shuffled around from one crappy place to another. They deserve to have somewhere nice for once.”
She gave him a look that warmed his guts, as though she’d never been prouder of him. Their eyes held a moment, and they smiled.
“Everybody has flaws, Dillon. We all have weaknesses. Just because the great Dillon Mentzer discovers he might have one when it comes to running a business is not the end of the world.”
“Well, I could always go get a real job.”
“And what qualifications, Mr. Mentzer, do you have for a real job?”
“I used to steal. Like a lot. I’ve stolen a lot of stuff. There’s gotta be a market for that. Or digging up lost jewels in a jungle. I did that a few times.”
“How many words a minute can you type?”
“Can’t type.”
“Can you dictate?”
“Don’t even know what that is.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m in need of an assistant, but I don’t think you qualify for that.”
He walked over and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I just came to say hey. Have to run.”
“Where?”
“Meeting,” he said, heading out the door.
“Meeting with who?”
“Meeting with whom. You should use proper English if you’re gonna be the executive director.”
She flung her pencil at him, and he blocked it with the door before blowing her a kiss and leaving.
Dillon unlocked the red Ferrari, which he’d bought with the last haul from when James was still alive. He’d traded a jeweled Mayan crown for it. The interior leather was tan, and the car had come with driving gloves and shoes made from the same leather. The gloves and shoes lay in the backseat, unworn.
“What the hell.” He grabbed the gloves and slipped them on.
The engine purred when he started the vehicle. He pulled out of the orphanage parking lot and drove straight to H3, the interstate that looped around the island. The wind whipped his hair, and the sun was nice and hot. A car full of girls next to him honked and waved, and he raised a hand before taking his exit.
Downtown Honolulu looked like any other medium-sized city in America. He would never guess he was on an island just by looking at it.
He pulled into the parking garage of First Hawaiian Center and had to go all the way to the fourth parking tier to find an available spot. He took an elevator up to the lobby and then the main elevator to the second floor, where his bank was. The First Hawaiian Bank had more accessible locations, but Dillon liked going to that branch for one reason: his banker didn’t totally hate him.
Richard Alana was a portly native who always looked uncomfortable in the suits the bank made him wear. He was behind his desk in his fishbowl office.
Dillon walked in without knocking. “Have you lost weight, Dick?”
“What do you want, Dillon? I’m busy. And stop calling me Dick.”
“Hey, no problem.” Dillon sat in one of the chairs in front of the banker’s desk. “But you have, haven’t you? Lost weight, I mean. And your hair looks good. New haircut?”
“I haven’t lost weight, and I didn’t get a haircut.”
“Tan?”
“No. Now what do you want? I have real work to do.”
“A man who knows what he wants. You have to respect that directness. And that’s what I love about you, Dick. You’re like a chubby little brown tiger who goes after what he wants.”
Richard sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You need more money, don’t you?”
“Not a lot.”
“How much?”
“You won’t even miss it. Toilet money.”
“What the hell is toilet money?”
“Money you could flush down the toilet and never miss. It’s an expression.”
“Never heard it.”
“People say it all over. You should get out more.”
“You made it up, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Do you like it?”
“Sure.”
“’Cause you can use it, you know. On the house.”
“Thanks, I’ll get right on it. Now tell me how much.”
“Three hundred eighty grand.” Just saying the number made Dillon feel queasy. He kept his eyes on Richard, though he knew his request would be denied.
“Can’t do it.”
“You guys own this building. It’s gotta be worth two hundred mil, easy. And you can’t loan three eighty to a young girl who needs an operation?”
“What girl needs an o
peration?”
“There’s no girl. I made that up.”
“Get outta my office, Dillon. I’m really busy.”
Dillon looked out the window at the clouds. “We’re almost broke, Rich. They’re just kids, man. They’re just kids.”
Richard shook his head. “I can justify maybe two hundred grand more without getting fired.”
“Yes! I knew you were my boy, Dick.”
“Dillon, you’re into us for half a million. How do you plan on paying that back?”
“I’ll think of something. I always do.” He got up and walked to the door. “And you really do look good by the way. Like a Hawaiian Brad Pitt.”
Richard blushed, and a grin came over his face. “Get out, Dillon.”
“Right. See ya.”
Dillon headed back out to the garage. When he reached his parking spot, he stood and stared at his car. Three hundred eighty thousand was the number his accountants and Jaime had given him to meet the budget shortfall and keep the orphanage open another eighteen months. Driving down to the dealership, he blared Alice in Chains’s Dirt album one last time.
Dillon parked in front and got out. He flipped the keys to Mike, the owner, who was out with a couple, browsing the cars.
“What do you want me to do with this?” Mike asked.
“It’s worth two hundred twenty. I’m giving it to you for the low price of one eighty.”
“One fifty.”
“One eighty. Transfer the money today, please. And e-mail me any paperwork,” Dillon said as he walked away from the dealership.
“You sure, Dillon? This car is awesome.”
He looked back at it. “I know.” He pulled out his phone and called a cab.
6
The plane landed on the icy airstrip. Tyler stood by and couldn’t help but stare at the woman as she headed across the tarmac. She wore a black coat even though she didn’t have to worry about the cold. In the light of the dawn, she was even more beautiful, and he wondered if any man could resist her. Maybe that was part of her power, too.
“You desire me, servant,” she said.
He looked down at the tarmac. “Forgive me, Queen.”
“It is an appropriate response. But do not let it cloud your judgment. If I feel you are not useful to me, I will dispose of you.”
“Of course.”
The door of the plane opened, and the pilot helped her aboard. Tyler followed close behind her. The remaining three men from the expedition climbed in, and the door closed.
“A true marvel,” she said.
“It’s called a plane, Queen. It makes travel around the world possible for us. Without your suits.”
“What is its destination?”
“We’re going to the Falkland Islands and then to Los Angeles. I am very wealthy, and we can use my resources—”
“Wealth is not power, servant.”
“What is?”
“Armies are power. And I have legions awaiting me.”
He paused. “My Queen, I went to the city earlier and searched everywhere. You were the only survivor, besides the symbiots.”
“That was one city. I had an empire that spanned horizons. The cities are buried under dust and bones. We must find them. When I have my legions, we can return here for the symbiots and their carriers.”
“Their carriers?”
“The ‘suits,’ you called them.”
The truth dawned on him, and he couldn’t help but grin. The answer had eluded him for so long. “The suits are carriers for the symbiots. So they don’t destroy the host.”
She didn’t respond. She was staring out the window as the plane sped down the runway and lifted off the ground.
7
Dillon sat on his deck as the orange sun dipped into the ocean and twilight began to fall over the islands. Flocks of birds were diving into a school of blue fish, and a yacht lazily drifted across the water.
He heard footsteps behind him then smelled Jaime’s perfume as she sat next to him. She pushed her sunglasses up onto her forehead and took a sip of the wine in her hand. She glanced at him then looked out at the water.
“I spoke to Henry,” she said.
“Why did you speak to Henry?”
“I needed to ask him something.”
“About what?”
“I explained our situation, and he gave some helpful suggestions.”
“Like what?”
“He said he has a buyer for the suit.”
“It’s not for sale.”
“Twenty million dollars, Dillon. Twenty million. Have you ever even seen that much money?”
“Jaime, it’s not for sale.”
She exhaled. “Every time you go out, I wonder if that’s the last time I’m going to see you. If someone’s just going to shoot in the right place.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“What about me, Dillon? What about the kids? What if people found out that you were the one in that suit? The logical way to get to you is to go through the people you care about.”
“That’s not going to happen, either.”
“You don’t know that. Dillon, look at me.”
He turned his head and gazed over at her.
“I hate that thing. And I hate that you go out in it. The world can survive without a Black Onyx. I can’t survive without a Dillon Mentzer.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “I have to go.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here. Hopefully.”
He stood and headed for the garage. Inside, the suit sat in the corner like some monstrous statue, and it filled him with… awe, shock, wonder, and fear. Every time. And each time he stepped out of it, he said that it was the last time. Jaime was right; he had no business flying around the world.
He ran his hands along the smooth material, and it responded to his touch, the surface whirling like cream in coffee. The suit opened, beckoning him like some comforting drug. He stepped inside and felt the surge of raw power.
He flew through the open garage door and burst into the sky. The evening air was warm, and the Pacific sparkled in the final rays of the sun. He propelled himself past the clouds, high enough that he couldn’t hear anything. He hovered effortlessly, staring down at the earth. He could see all of the islands, the west coast of the mainland, and the tips of southern Canada and northern Mexico.
Swimming over the clouds, he slowly drifted toward the mainland. He spun onto his back and watched the sky, bringing his arms up behind his head. He sometimes felt as if he could sleep up there.
Twisting back around, he crouched. An invisible force built inside the suit and resonated in his bones. He exploded forward with so much speed that the clouds parted and reeled behind him.
Within a few seconds, he was over California. He landed on top of the US Bank Tower in Los Angeles. He sat on the edge with his feet dangling over and watched the cars stuck in traffic seventy-three floors below. Though he’d been an orphan and spent most of his time in Honolulu, he remembered living in Los Angeles at some point in his life. His parents, his birth parents, were from there. He didn’t remember their faces or names, but he remembered that.
Jaime had told him he should look them up. But what would he say? They’d abandoned him, making it clear he wasn’t a priority in their lives. To go crawling to them and begging for answers stank of desperation. But an answer, any answer, would have brought him some measure of peace. For most of his life, he’d felt like discarded trash. It would be nice to know that his parents had had a legitimate reason for tossing him away like a rejected toy. Perhaps they were drug addicts and knew they couldn’t give him the life he deserved. Anything would have been better than thinking they’d abandoned him because they didn’t want him.
The suit’s enhanced vision allowed him to see a drug deal going down on a corner a mile from the tower. Farther off and to the east, two men were having a fistfight. At a parking garage to the we
st, a family was coming out, and four men ran to an SUV with guns drawn.
“We have a winner,” he said, jumping off the building.
He fell halfway down, exhilaration making his body quiver, before he twisted and flew between the buildings like a heat-seeking missile. Taking a corner sharply, he was over the parking garage three and a half miles away and staring down at the SUV.
“Out of the car!” one of the men shouted. He grabbed the father from the driver’s seat and flung him to the ground, placing his foot on the back of the man’s neck.
“Please,” the father said, “just take the car. Take it.”
“You damn right we gonna take it.”
The second man pulled the mother from the passenger side.
“Nah,” the third said. “We take that bitch.” He yanked the two children from the vehicle, tossing them onto the concrete.
The second and third men pinned the mother down in the backseat, while the first climbed in behind the wheel. The father screamed for them to let his wife go as they peeled out, smoke billowing from the tires.
Dillon could see inside the car. The two in the backseat were ripping off the woman’s clothes. One of them pulled back and struck her hard across the jaw. The driver grinned. The car was speeding, wildly weaving in and out of traffic. Several cars were nearly struck, and they had to swerve into different lanes to avoid a collision.
Dillon swooped down. Placing his hands on either side of the roof, he lifted the car.
The driver shouted, “Shit!”
Dillon lifted the car thirty feet and then forty and fifty. He came to the top of a building and set the vehicle down on the roof before shooting into the sky. He watched the men sit motionless in the SUV. None of them said anything. The driver glanced at his boys before opening the door and stepping outside.
He looked up just as Dillon grabbed him, and in an instant, they were up in the clouds.
“Shit, shit!”
“It’s not nice to steal from people. Definitely not nice to rape their wives. Would you agree? What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? That’s all right. Hopefully, you won’t make too much noise on the way down, either.”
Dillon let him go, and the driver raced toward the ground. Screaming, his arms flailing, the man started to choke from the wind shooting down his throat.
Black Onyx Reloaded - A Superhero Thriller (The Black Onyx Chronicles Book 2) Page 2
