"Leora, understand, if you had not been in danger, I would've let my sister rest unavenged. Life is for the living. As hard as it was for me to let it go, I had. But I couldn't risk losing you. Or anyone else that I loved. Because it went beyond you. The risk had extended to everyone I know.
"I couldn't risk telling you and pulling you into this world and endangering you even more. And, yet, I did. Ironic. But true. This is me, Leora. You asked for me, and I brought my baggage. Since you've been staying with me, I've been trying to let go of that baggage.
"Some of the baggage was stubborn. I kicked it away and it stayed. I kicked it harder and...then you got taken. I ignored it...and then this lead popped up. And that worry played on my mind, day in, day out. What if? What if?
"What if there was a connection? What was it they really wanted? And, the most absurd thing of all, what if there'd been a connection to that day I'll never forget in Hyde Park—the day that ruined my family forever?
"I wasn't certain in the beginning that there'd been a link. I confess, it had been a hunch. But I followed it. Then the software I wrote kept bringing up hypothetical connections. Insane connections, connections to the very people who should be protecting us against this stuff! I struggled to believe it, but what was initially a hunch had now taken on another hue. The faint hue of legitimacy.
"I will live with Kayla's suffering for the rest of my life, with the fact that she almost died because of me. But, Leo, you need to understand that that would happen for the rest of our lives if I didn't bring it to an end! It could have happened anyway! These men at the top of this, all they care about is money. They make dough from all the coke shipped into the US and sold on its streets. From E, from hash, everything. They run cops and give them all a cut. I threatened all of that. But their pride seems to be their downfall. They didn't take the easy route and have me killed. They wanted to have a little fun, to make me suffer, and maybe even extract a bit of my own cash for themselves and for their goons.
"It helps that criminals of that caliber are normally psychotic. That they normally take the complicated route because of their desires to prove a point.
"If I'd never stood up and showed my cards to that Raphael punk in the states, on that night when Brad and I fought him, these guys would never have known. Word spread. They did some digging around, saw that I had enough dirt to bring them down. And that's when they staged this kidnapping of yours. Wanting to get my money, and my life. Little did I know when Trey and I became friends that it would be a friendship that would save both mine and my loved ones' lives many times over.
"I told you there isn't one guy at the top of it all that would bring the whole house of cards down on drug cartels in the world. But in this case, there is one guy that's made our life hell. I had no naïve ideas about what I was doing. And I'm no moralist. I don't care about the drug scene as such. Bozo wants to bury his woes in chemicals, his problem. Not mine. But this was about our security. Once it started rolling, once I'd let them know what I knew, I was unable to stop. It was out of my hands then.
"This is not an excuse, Leora. I'm just explaining myself so we can part with as much understanding of each other's worlds as possible.
"If you and I come to an end now, I understand. As I said, you wanted me, you got my baggage. I'm only glad that being with me hasn't poisoned your security for the rest of your life. Now it hasn't. Because until I finished this, you, I, Brad, all of us, would always be at risk.
"It was a hole I was in that I had to get myself out of. By being with me, you inevitably fell into that hole. For that, I'm very sorry. My past was a lot darker than I let on. I hope you can forgive me."
He stood.
I realized, also, my part in opening up that hole. If he'd never been with me, he would've never gotten into that fight with Raphael in the first place. He would've never had to 'show his cards' to Raphael. Because he did that to protect me, and Kayla, and Brad.
"Being with you, Leora, has been the best thing that has happened to me in my twenty-four, almost twenty-five, years on this earth. I hope you find love somewhere. I know I have."
He took a step forward.
My hand shot instantly to his wrist, held him there. I shook my head. "Wait," I whispered, wetness filling my eyes.
Only, I didn't get a chance to say what I wanted. My phone buzzed. I picked it up, my other hand still on Conall's wrist.
The voice on the line made my bones ache down to the marrow. It was like being in a dream.
"Hello, chiquita. How joo doin?"
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
-1-
Raphael had Dani and her boyfriend—the Jolly Roger manager, Troy. In Seaford. He told me to come alone and to bring a hundred thousand Euros in cash. Told me to get it from my 'lover' if I valued my friend's life.
I told him it was the middle of the night and we were in the UK where they dealt in pounds, not Europe, and he told me that was my problem, not his, and that if I valued my friend's life, I'd be 'proactive' in solving it. Who would think the guy had such a staggering vocabulary? Must be all that time he spent with the feds.
Conall tried to reason with him on the phone, tried to tell him that the people he was working for would all be flushed down the public opinion toilet tomorrow.
Raphael knew it. They'd apparently cut him out of the loop already a week earlier, about the same time Trey had gotten Conall safely back to the states. Obviously the feds had been disappointed at Raphael's inability to deliver the goods. So no doubt the two actions had been related. Maybe that's when they'd planned the hit on us in the house. Maybe they figured it would be better to just get rid of Conall, and all of us. The guys who'd attacked the house had been in plainclothes. So if they were the law they at least didn't look like it. Or maybe they'd been hired guns.
Either way, none of that mattered now.
Conall put the phone on speaker.
"Joo think I'm stupid, hombre? This money is for me, not for those fuckin pigs who think they can use and abuse me whenever they got their own fuckin asses to clean.
"Well, I showed them, punk. They not the only fuckers with friends, comprende?
"So, joo come with the money, or I blow the little fat blonde's brains all over the fuckin bed. Then again, maybe she and me gonna do some other stuff on that bed."
He laughed, and the laugh crawled up my back like sticky spiders' legs.
"Tomorrow morning. Eleven A.M. That give you plenty time to get to the bank and then here."
-2-
Trey called it Project West End: "In honor of the West End Boys...and Girls." He got the whole gang there, the same gang that had saved my own life in that warehouse. Smokey was there, Keith with all the neck tattoos, and Clint Eastwood (turns out his real name was Jack, "Just Jack." Or so he said...)
We considered showing up at Raphael's tonight but decided it was too risky. Raphael might think it strange that we got that amount of money in cash in the middle of the night. So the extended part of the West End Boys (Smokey, Keith, and Just Jack) left to scope out the place instead. They would place snipers where they could in case Raphael was stupid enough to be standing in front of an open window.
They would also just storm the place if they heard Raphael hurting Dani in any way. I'd insisted on that. After what I'd been through, there was no ways I was going to let that happen to another. No one deserves that.
They drove ahead and we followed.
We assumed Raphael knew what Conall looked like, and maybe even the rest of the gang. He'd been in with the dirty cops who'd wanted Conall taken, so approaching the place was difficult. The cops might not have known about Conall's 'friends' when I'd been taken, but as Trey had said, they probably knew about them now. Dani's life was on the line. So we couldn't risk it. We couldn't risk Raphael recognizing anyone even remotely connected to me. Conall and I stayed several miles away. The others went to the apartment and got in position, hidden from view.
Conall and I parked facing the ocea
n, watching its blackness roll over the rocks, taking anything with it that it touched. It was strangely disturbing. Conall had suited up, and driven, despite his broken ribs.
"How many ribs did they get?" I asked.
"Three," he groaned.
"Still broken?"
"In several places."
"Thank you for doing this."
A raspberry sound from him. "Thank me? Please." He shook his head. "What do you say we start afresh after this?"
"I agree."
"So, who is it? I mean, at the top of it all?"
He grinned. "Make sure you buy the paper tomorrow."
"Actually, I don't wanna know. I don't wanna know any of it."
"Heads will roll. Finally."
"You mean everything to me," I said.
"And you to me. I should've left it."
"No, you shouldn't have. And I was the catalyst. You would never have been at Raphael's place that night were it not for me. You know, the night you 'showed your cards.'"
He frowned, thought a second, then smiled. "You mean, you were actually the cause of all my recent woes?"
"Don't push it," I said sarcastically.
I felt his hand quiver on my leg. "Vivienne deserves justice." His voice was soft, hurt. "And she will get it now."
I could sense the hurt and pain in him so ferociously that it felt as if the car had trembled.
Conall's phone rang. "Yes. Uh-huh. Good. Understood."
"They've got ears on the place. There are apparently several of them. So they can't risk a shot. One guy's permanently at the window, watching the street. Dani seems safe. But Raphael's not stupid. Look, we need to change the plan."
"No."
"Leo, he's not alone. I have no doubt you could take him alone. You're practically superwoman these days. But there are at least four guys in there. Even I'd be afraid to walk in there alone."
I strongly doubted it.
The plan had been that I take Raphael a bag with dough at the top and newspapers on the bottom tomorrow and get him to a window. If anything went wrong, well, I could hopefully defend myself. Yeah, it had taken a lot of convincing from me. "I'm going in for him. I'm tired of running."
He paused. "Christ, you sound like me."
"I have to go in alone. Or else he'll suspect something."
We fought it out and eventually even I realized it was a bad idea. It was idiotic to think I could defend myself against four armed men. We couldn't even safely station someone directly outside, pretending to have a casual smoke. There was enough foot traffic on that street for it to be believable. But who wouldn't he recognize?
"We storm the place," said Conall.
"But he knows what you look like. He'll see us coming."
Suddenly I had an idea. An idea that made me sick. But one I would have to face if I wanted to save the life of my friend.
"There might be someone else here. I think he can fight. Well, I hope he can."
Conall looked suddenly nauseas. He knew who I was talking about. He sighed, kept his cool. "Call him."
-3-
Yes, Dorian Brant was still in town. And, yes, "all longshoreman know how to fight, love. It's part of the job description."
I felt a personal revulsion at talking to him. That had been a low place for me. I swallowed my pride, asked him to come to the wall to talk. I needed his help. "Our wall?"
Urgh. "Yes, that wall. I need your help."
When he arrived, his face turned from anticipation to instant revulsion when he saw Conall. I saw him clench his fists. "Is this some kind of joke, love?"
"Dorian, a friend of mine is in danger. We need your help."
Conall stayed silent.
Dorian walked up straight to him, looked down at him. Oh, great. Like we had time for him to prove just how macho he was...
I had no doubt that Conall would rip him apart. He was a street fighter that could tough it out with the best of them. Even with three broken ribs. At one stage I think I even saw Conall smile.
A blistering beach wind blew at my hair and I could hardly hear myself speak. "Dorian! We need your help!" He heaved his chest out... Big and huge. Yes, he would do just fine in a fight.
We told him the deal. Told him he was to stroll along casually near the house and light up a smoke. He was the only one of us we were absolutely certain Raphael wouldn't recognize. The house had stairs so I would go up, get the door open and then he would storm up behind me.
Conall would be around the block. All we needed was for Dorian to buy us a few seconds. That's all we'd need for the rest of the guys to get there.
"It'll basically be a free-for-all until our team gets there," said Conall.
"It's a suicide mission," Dorian replied. Then silence. "Doesn't sound like a very good plan to me."
"I couldn't agree more," said Conall.
We bashed it out and thought it over and considered all the factors.
If I didn't go alone, they might shoot Dani.
If I went alone, they might shoot me as soon as I handed them the bag.
"It's the best plan we got," I said.
-4-
But plans change.
Dorian wanted to scope out the scene so we took him there. He met up with Smokey on the roof of a building next door. Smokey was the closest sniper.
Conall and I waited at the end of the block.
What changed all our plans was Dani's scream.
It had been so loud and sharp that I heard it from the other end of the street.
And then Smokey fired.
I ran!
I thought of nothing, only felt the wind in my hair as my feet slammed against the ground and my arms pumped at my sides, racing for her door. Dani screamed again! Loud and shrill and echoing over the two A.M. street.
Before I knew it, Dorian was at my side up at the top of the stairs and—
Whoa! The dude basically stepped on the door with his gigantic foot and it crashed open! His fist was so huge as it flung once to the right, into a guy's nose! The guy fell back. Automatic gunshots fired up from his gun into the ceiling as he fell. Dorian stood on his face and— Silence. The guy was either dead, or wishing he was.
I saw the dude Smokey had sniped, blood pooling next to him by the window.
Someone appeared on my left! I swung and elbowed him! Then slammed five shots with the heels of my palms against his nose and head. Damn that felt good! Dorian was there now, kicked him once in the head. Out.
"Don't joo fuckin move joo puta or I kill her!" Raphael was up against a wall, Dani being choked by him, her beautiful blue eyes red with tears. Manager Troy was tied to a chair, gagged, eyes black and blue and bloody. Now why did he have to go and do that to him?
"I told you to come alone joo fucking puta. I told joo—" His eyes had the look of someone on Meth who hasn't slept for days. His hand trembled on the trigger. I saw Dorian budge forward but I held him back by his bicep, shook my head while still fixed on Raphael's psychotic glare.
Raphael pushed the barrel of his gun so hard into Dani's sweet temple that I thought I heard it fire. Imagination. His finger shook so violently I was afraid he'd pull the trigger by mistake!
He was frantic. A desperate man with nothing more to gain and nothing to lose, the look of fear and all-is-lost on his face. A man with nowhere to go, nowhere left to hide. It was over for him, and he knew it. The trick now was to have him go easily without taking any more lives with him.
He pushed the barrel again against her head. She screamed! Torrential tears poured down her rosy cheeks. "Help me, please, help me!" she cried.
I wanted to tell her to calm down, to be relaxed, to not provoke him—
"HELP ME!!!"
He looked down at her. "Joo shut up, joo puta. Shut up or I blow your fucking brains out!"
"No! Please, no, help!"
"Shut the fuck up or I—"
Dorian started bending down, reaching for a gun on one of the unconscious (or dead) men. Raphael was panick
ing, distracted, looking at Dani only. I said nothing, didn't move. Dani's screaming was actually helping! Raphael was so engrossed in her wails that he didn't notice us anymore! "Shut up puta shut up shut up shut—"
When the gunshot boomed, right next to my ear, I flinched back from its explosion and hit the door next to me. Flashes of earlier, in Conall's home, the flash-bang, the gunfire, Kayla, all came back to me.
I thought of her bloody body, limp and clammy, blood streaking all over the floor.
I caught my breath, reminded myself we were safe, looked at the blood from Raphael's exploded head spattered against the wall behind him as he slid down onto the ground, leaving a thick red streak on the wall. I saw the blood all over Dani's face.
She screamed in terror.
"Dani, it's OK! It's OK! It's not your blood! It's OK!" I cried.
She collapsed, trembling, distraught and frantic.
Freckled Troy's cheeks were soaking with tears.
Dorian was still next to me, crouched down, looking up. Looking up at the smoking gun in Conall's hand, still aimed at Raphael.
He lowered it. "It's over, baby. It's over," Conall said.
Dorian stood. He closed his sea-green eyes once as he looked at me. Smiled. "Thank you," I said to him. Maybe he hadn't been a rock bottom choice after all.
When Trey arrived, all he said was, "I haven't got a fucking clue how I'm going to clear this up with the local authorities." He ran a hand over his head.
"Maybe we tell them the truth this time?" Conall said.
"And what would that be: MI6 agent found teaching civilians how to wield guns and shoot at people's foreheads from doorways and teaching Israeli Army fighting techniques to other civilians so they can all create a civilian vigilante force and take on all the bad guys in the world by themselves?"
Conall shrugged. "Something like that."
Trey shook his head. Huffed. "You," he said to Dorian. "Thank you very much but now you must go." Trey shook his hand cursorily and pushed him out. Dorian looked over at me, confused.
"Yes, she loves you or loved you or will be in touch with you or won't, now leave! The rest of these bozos I can explain away. She's the friend, he's the one providing the money. You I can't explain."
West-End Boys (Naïve Mistakes) Page 12
