by Mike Dagons
He sincerely loved Chanay and the baby, but loving them didn’t change who he was. He wasn’t just a sadist killer. He was a sadistic killer with superpowers.
He knew exactly where Ice was, but he would die before he told them.
Anakin had relaxed enough to effectively tap into the biological compass in his head, which gave him a unique sense of direction. Like birds, he never got lost, and he always knew exactly where he was. Right now he was in the Pacific Ocean, on a yacht, a few miles off the coast of Maui. He sensed that it was after dark, and since he didn’t hear any other vessels on the water, it would be a long swim to shore unless he could steal one of the speedboats that was probably onboard.
Anakin counted the footsteps of maybe five men on the deck directly above, and there were probably more throughout the vessel. He didn’t know what kind of weapons they had, but he didn’t have to hear bullets being chambered to know that they were heavily armed.
He would have liked to have known if they were more skilled than the ones sent to his house for him. It’s always helpful to know how skilled your opponent is when planning an attack.
Basin had made it clear that he didn’t think they were adequate, but Luther had defended their capabilities, and his argument was convincing.
The jolting slap on his cheek suggested it was time to open his eyes, and redirect his focus. Anakin looked up and saw that Jeff Basin had moved back, and an interesting looking tall blonde man wearing a white smock was standing in front of him now.
“Where’s Luther?” he asked, and yawned like he had been bored to sleep, and was just awakening.
Jeff cracked a smile. He’d heard that he was insolent, arrogant, and hard as nails. Had it been up to him, he wouldn’t have tried to coerce information out of him. He would have simply killed him, and concentrated his efforts on someone with less fortitude. Ice’s wife would have been perfect, but Luther’s men fucked that up. They should have gone after his mother next. He would have surrendered, and it would all be over by now.
“Luther stepped out for this part, Anakin. Since I failed to impress you with my proposal, he has decided to have me introduce you to the Doctor. Like most of the men on this boat. He is Mr. Scott’s employee. He is a specialist, and he is the one who worked on the prison guard. Mr. Scott is not fond of torture as a means to obtain information. Had the guard given him the information earlier, he would have been spared with a quick death.”
“Is that right?” he answered calmly. Knowing it was a lie.
Clearly they both enjoyed killing the guard that way, or why else do it? They were trying to play some kind of psychological game with him. Pretending that the torture in store for him was going to be so distasteful, they couldn’t stand to be in the room when it happened.
Anakin glanced at the table where his dossier had been laying, and saw a variety of surgical instruments had been laid out neatly in its place.
“I want you to know that I am against this type of persuasion also, but the final decision is not up to me. The Doctor is going to persuade you to tell us how to reach your friend, Ice, unless you decide to tell me now, and spare us both the ugliness. Once I leave, that option will be off the table.”
“I thought you read my dossier, Jeff? You should know that I’m the kind of man who doesn’t mind the ugliness.”
The snippy remark gained him another slap from the Doctor. This time, it was hard enough to make his incisors cut the inside of his bottom lip. Anakin spit blood from his mouth, and then looked up at the Doctor slowly.
“Oh my God, what they say about your eyes reflecting your mood is true!” he squeaked an excited chuckle in a keen voice that sounded weird coming from a man his size. “They’re actually turning red with golden flecks. It’s like looking into the flames of hell.” Fascinated, he leaned down bringing his face within inches of Anakin’s to take a closer look. “Your eyes are compelling and evil,” he stood upright. “I am so going to enjoy this…can I start now?” he asked Basin without breaking eye contact with Anakin.
“This is your last chance, Anakin. I don’t enjoy inflicting pain or killing women and children, but if you don’t cooperate, I’m sure Luther is going to insist that we pick up Chanay and the baby, and bring them here. Genesis has been destroyed. All of their operatives are out of business, so she can’t run to them for protection. We both know that on her own, she’ll be easy to find, and this doctor will enjoy making you watch him hurt them both.”
“Is that right?” he answered calmly, although his eyes were literally blazing.
Admittedly, he was surprised to hear the ragtag crew had been able to shutdown Genesis, but he wasn’t worried about Chanay. She was streetwise, and he had invested a lot of time and money into making her lethal. She could handle a dozen of the yahoos Luther employed.
“I only have to give the order, and they’ll pick her up. Neither of you are part of the organization that has offended my client. I only need information from you about Ice, and then I promise to let you go unharmed.”
“I told you that I don’t know how to contact Ice,” he lied.
“Then reluctantly, I’ll have to leave you in the hands of the Doctor. As I said, I don’t have the stomach for what’s about to happen to you. So I’ll check back in a half hour. Will that be enough time, Doctor?”
“More than enough,” he picked up a scalpel, and tapped it in his palm.
Jeff walked out, leaving him and the Doctor alone. The boat didn’t ride the water like one of the larger super yachts, so Anakin figured he only had to go up one level to reach the exterior deck.
The Doctor walked over and stood in front of him. He was lean and fit and he outweighed Anakin by at least fifty pounds. He bent at the waist, and held the scalpel close to Anakin’s eye.
“I think I’ll start by removing one of these fascinating eyes so I can examine it closer. I’d like to know if it really offers a glimpse into the flames of hell.”
A flash of anger flickered in Anakin’s eyes, only a second before he broke the plastic ties binding his wrists to the chair.
The Doctor’s mouth flew open in surprise, but before he could yell for help. Anakin had a solid hold on his windpipe, clutching it with steel fingers.
He fastened his other hand on the Doctor’s scalpel hand, and crushed it around the surgical tool until the bones felt like they had dissolved into dust.
The Doctor was at his mercy, and could do nothing but stare helplessly into his demonic red eyes. “I wish we had more time to spend together, but the flames of hell are awaiting you, Doctor,” he hissed, and then yanked out the man’s windpipe along with his esophagus.
Anakin let the Doctor’s body drop to the floor, and then tossed the bloody hoses of internal tubing on it. He wiped his bloody hands on the doctor’s smock, and then he gripped the ties binding his ankles to the chair, and broke them in one quick pull. Too bad that detailed dossier didn’t tell Jeff it was stupid to rely on plastic ties to restrain him, and then leave him in a room alone with his overrated torturer.
Anakin searched the Doctor’s body and found his phone. He typed a quick text message to Ice explaining the situation, and then he removed the battery and memory chip.
The doctor didn’t have a gun, but he had a large selection of knives, and Anakin selected a few. He planned to do what he always did—play the hand he was dealt, and make every knife count. Oddly, with the quality of knives he had at his disposal, he wasn’t worried about the firepower he might have to face getting off the yacht.
He wasn’t wearing shoes, so his footsteps were soft. He walked the narrow corridor to the stairs quickly, hardly making a sound. So far he’d been lucky and had not crossed paths with any gunmen.
He climbed the stairs slowly, and when he reached the surface, he fired a dagger into the chest of the first man he saw, sending him backwards over the yacht’s railing.
He had tested his speed by racing with his Mercedes S63 AMG. With Chanay driving, the car can go from 0-60 in 3
.9 seconds, and from start to finish, he was able to keep pace with it for four minutes. Because he didn’t know what was waiting for him, he hit the deck running at his top speed.
Bullets chased him until he took a swan dive off the boat into the inky blackness, and then disappeared into the blue waters of the Pacific with a small splash.
The spotlight mounted on the ship’s deck hit the water only seconds after him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Unlike most men, Anakin could hold his breath for long periods of time. Another wondrous side effect of his father’s life giving serum, so he stayed deep under the surface of the water with a scalpel in hand, and waited patiently for them to give up the search on that side of the boat.
He wasn’t worried about sharks, although the waters were full of them. With his speed and strength, and the use of a scalpel, he could kill a shark as easily as he could kill a goldfish.
He started swimming underwater towards the shore. If Monique was truly dead, he knew exactly what Ice would want to do, and he had a pretty good idea where he would start.
Calculating the time it would take Ice to get back to the States from Japan, he figured he’d have plenty of time to procure the equipment they would need after he took some time to rest. He was an exceptional swimmer, but even he would be tired after a three hour swim.
Chapter 28
When the plane touched down at Osaka International Airport, the steward awakened Ice with a hand on his shoulder. The undisturbed sleep left him feeling amazingly refreshed, and he couldn’t wait to get off the plane and about the business of doing what he did best.
Ice gathered up his belongings, which was a small canvas bag carrying an evening jacket, a new dress shirt, and a change of shoes. He draped the bag over his shoulder, and got in the slow moving line of unloading passengers.
He was there to close a contract, and since the gun laws were more stringent in Japan. He couldn’t just run down to the corner market and pick up a gun like he could if he was on the west side of Chicago.
Ice had been in the business of taking lives, or as he liked to say, balancing the scale of good and evil, for a long time. To be as successful as he had been, you had to have reliable resources, and he had plenty. Whenever he had an occasion to visit Japan on business, Chan Lee, a very resourceful supplier, was the man he relied on to procure weapons for him.
Ice had known Chan for years, and he had proven to be a friend as well as a valuable resource. He had contacted Chan before he left Chicago, and he was going to meet him at the airport.
Once Ice was through customs and in the terminal, he purchased a cup of coffee, and then found a seat at one of the café tables and relaxed to wait for Chan. While he was waiting, he took out his cell and looked at it. Several of the color coded indicator lights were blinking, and he noted that Genesis was tracking his movements and knew that he was in Osaka.
Ice cursed silently when he saw that he had numerous voice and video messages from Bender, which meant Melvin was trying to reach him. Ice put the cell back in his pocket. He didn’t want or need any distractions, so he was going to wait until he finished the job before he read any of the messages or returned the calls.
Chan was 6’2”, which was considerably taller than most of the Asian faces in the terminal, so he was easy to see in the crowd. Ice stood up when he spotted him coming through the door.
Chan greeted him with a slight bow of his head. “Ethan Cole, it is good to see you again.” He used the alias Ice assumed when working outside of the States.
Ice understood that Chan preferred his native tongue, so he spoke to him in Cantonese. “It has been a long time, my friend. Do you have everything ready for me?”
“Yes, I have all the things you need. Come, we’ll talk in the car.”
Chan lived in Tokyo, which was only an hour away on a bullet train. He had taken the train and rented a car for them to use while they were in Osaka.
Ice followed him outside to his car. They waited until they were on the road before they picked up their conversation. “I have learned that your target, Madame Chow, is leaving the country much earlier than you anticipated,” Chan reported. “You have to do it tonight.”
Ice was as alarmed by the news, as he was disturbed to learn Chan knew who he was there to kill. “How the fuck you know who I’m here to hit?” he switched to English.
“Mr. Valance has made it widely known that he wants her to die for what she did to his granddaughter. Ethan, he has made the contract public. He is offering ten million dollars to the first hitter to successfully close it. The timing of your visit, and the weapons you requested made the reason you’re here pretty obvious to me. You probably don’t know this, but there has already been one attempt on her life. I figure it’s why she’s leaving the country early. This presents a problem, no?” he asked.
“Hell yeah, it presents a problem. I’ve lost the element of surprise, and my torturer,” he sank back in his seat. Now he understood why Melvin had been reluctant to do business with Valance. The man had contracted him to do the job, and then decided to auction it like a fucking unprofessional nut.
“I can stand in for your torturer if you will allow it. I hope you don’t mind that I have already done the preliminary work. We will be meeting Madame Sue Chow tonight at the Ritz Carlton. She thinks that you’re interested in placing an order for several young girls to use in a big movie production you’re planning in the States.”
“You just told me that she knows she’s been marked. I assume she knows that the bounty on her head is large enough to make her own mother try to kill her. Why take a meet with a stranger?”
“The lure of the money she thinks you’re willing to pay is greater than the bounty. Besides, she is confident that her men can handle whatever comes her way, and so far, she’s been right. They worship her, and they are extremely good, but no match for you.”
Ice looked at him suspiciously. “This is not your thing Chan. Why are you so willing to get involved in this?”
“I need the money for personal reasons, Ethan. I am hoping to collect a fee for providing the service for you.”
“We didn’t negotiate a fee for you to liaison.”
“I know the job requires she be tortured. You don’t torture chicks, and your partner will not arrive in time to do it for you. I can take his place and do it for you. I am cheap.”
“I’m going to have to pass.”
“Please Ethan, I desperately need the money, and I don’t have the skills to get by her men. I already contacted her, and if I don’t produce you to close the deal I promised, then I’m as good as dead.”
Ice didn’t usually trust people. He couldn’t afford to, but Chan was different. He’d known him a long time, and he’d always been a man of his word. “Do I need to warn you against double crossing me, Chan?”
“No, I would never double cross a friend,” he declared.
“Alright, we’ll do it, and I’ll give you half.”
“Thank you. I never expected that much.”
“Don’t thank me until we get it. When do we meet her?”
“We’ll stop and pick up the weapons, and then we’ll go directly there.”
“Let’s do it,” Ice said, and Chan nodded dutifully.
Ice walked into the Ritz Carlton in Umeda with Chan at his side. Chan reported that he had been told to come alone and unarmed. Chan wasn’t an operator, and he was clueless, but Ice knew the Madame wouldn’t have made that stipulation if she really thought they were coming for a business meeting. He was expecting an ambush. If it didn’t happen, it was all good, but he was going into it with his eyes wide open.
They walked through the exquisitely decorated lobby to the elevators. Trusting Chan to watch his back in this situation was a gamble. He trusted his loyalty, but he’d known the man for over a decade, and although he’d purchased many guns from him. He’d never seen him shoot anything but a paper target.
Maybe he could pull the trigger, but maybe not. He definitely di
d not believe Chan had the stomach for torture. It was the nature of the business to expect the unexpected, so Ice didn’t expect him to be useful. If it turned out he was, then great, but he wasn’t going to rely on it.
According to Chan’s information, he could expect at least ten guards to be inside the room with Madame Chow, maybe more.
Ice was born ambidextrous, and it was a talent he’d come to depend on to give him an advantage. He held two silenced 9mm Sigs behind his back, and waited patiently for Chan to knock on Madame Chow’s door. Once he’d been seen through the peephole. Chan moved behind him like he’d been told.
A big Sumo size Asian man dressed in a black suit opened the door. “You were told to be alone.” he grunted in English. “You had better be unarmed.”
The bounty on Madame Chow was exorbitant, and it was another reason Melvin didn’t trust it. Chan had told him that the other assassin had been butchered, and then put on display to discourage others from trying.
Ice knew him by reputation, and knew he was good. He figured they were able to overpower him because he went in expecting an easy kill because it was a woman. Or maybe he’d told the same unimaginative lie Chan had used to arrange their meeting, and walked into a trap.
Unlike his brother, Ice was a risk taker, but he was no fool. Given their weak cover story, he was being extra careful. The Sumo took a step back inside the room, leaving the door standing open.
Ice expected to be invited inside. He figured they’d be asked to submit to a body search, and then placed in the spider’s parlor to wait for her to appear. And while they were sitting there unsuspecting and defenseless, her men would off them without getting much resistance. If it was truly a double cross, he figured it was how she expected it to play out. It’s probably how they’d killed the other assassin so easily. But this time, she was going to be so fucking wrong for estimating what a truly good assassin was capable of setting off.
