He was part of this world because of Hector. It revolved around his papa and Miko had been right there at his side since he was eight years old. Now he was drifting away, towards a new life, a new world. A new handler.
Simon lived in one of the wealthiest areas of London. It wasn't standard practice to meet your handler at home; in fact, most handlers preferred that their men never knew where they lived. They were murderers, after all. But Nasir said that Simon had been a butler before, he was raised to serve those of wealth and he liked to show off what he'd made of himself.
Ophelia's family had lived far away from this area. They wouldn't have been able to afford it. Now Fee could probably buy several of the flats in Simon's neighborhood.
Miko froze when they got to Simon's door. It was red, and Miko wasn't certain whether that pleased him or scared him.
Nasir knocked and Simon answered, greeting them warmly and inviting them in. He offered tea. Nasir accepted for them both and brought him to the sofa to wait. There was a dish of red candies on the coffee table. Miko sat down. Already feeling quite nervous and emotionally unstable, he started shoveling them into his mouth, only stopping when Simon returned with an elegant tea set and tray of biscuits.
“Don't let me stop you,” Simon said with a laugh. “Help yourself.”
Nasir smiled and took a biscuit. “Thank you.”
“You'll really thank me when you hear this.” Simon proudly slid the envelope across the table to Nasir. “I got this job and I immediately thought of you. Both of you.” And Miko immediately had a bad feeling about this job, and he started shoveling again. Nasir slid everything out carefully onto the table, his long fingers like spider's legs as he set the money aside and held the photograph. It was a man in his early forties, tattoos visible on his arms and neck. “That part's for you. Now here's the part for Mako...”
Miko chewed noisily on his mouthful of candy. “Miko.”
Simon smiled with glee, completely disregarding Miko's correction. “You're skinning him.” Miko swallowed, shards and whole pieces of candy scraping painfully down his throat. “Don't say I never do anything for you.”
“How very considerate of you, Simon,” Nasir said dryly, so dryly that even an Englishman didn't get his humor. Miko didn't either. He didn't think anything was remotely humorous at the moment. Nasir set what was left of the biscuit back on the edge of the tray. “Are we supposed to do something with this skin once we have removed it?”
Looking pointedly at Miko, Simon said, “Well don't eat it.” Miko blinked, his new world swaying. “Hang it up. Make it look pretty. You know these clients, a bunch of psychopaths. But I'll give them props for creativity. I suppose when you spend your entire life not working for a living you have plenty of time to think up such curiosities.” He sipped his tea. “Do I need to give you instructions on this, or...”
“No,” Nasir said. “We've got it.”
After throwing up in Simon's bushes, Miko went with Nasir to find a nice park bench and look at flowers. “I am squeamish.”
Nasir cleared his throat. “In such situations, who isn't?”
“I think this reputation will kill me.”
“It will serve you well. You'll see.”
“How do you skin someone?”
“You just need the right tools. A butcher's shop should suffice. We'll go this evening.”
Miko felt queasy the remainder of the day. His tattoo hurt like it had when Nasir first gave it to him. Miko kept looking down at it and expecting to see blood.
They went to a butcher's shop clear on the other side of the city. Slabs of meat were displayed in the window and Miko kept hearing Simon's voice, “Make it look pretty.” They picked the lock and went inside. Miko could see his breath in the freezer, carcasses hanging from the ceiling. Miko had expected to feel frightened but it was all surreal somehow. It was only meat, an abundance of it, but nonetheless. The room was not overflowing with blood.
Nasir wrapped knives in a cloth with his gloved hands, then set a stuffed envelope where the knives used to be.
“What is that?” Miko asked, standing beside what was left of a cow. He could feel the cold radiating off of it. Nasir was bundled up like an Eskimo with the hat Miko had bought for him in Poland.
“Money for the knives. I will take a man's life, but that's no reason to steal a man's livelihood.”
Miko nodded. “You are very noble.”
“I am far from noble, my friend.” Nasir laughed. “Now, let us go and try to get some sleep. I think it will be some time before you are able to sleep again.”
Miko wasn't able to sleep that night, even in bed with Nasir. He lay awake and stared at the cloth, knowing the knives were inside. Feeling his tattoo. With all the stories Hector had told him, and Miko's depraved imagination filling in the rest, he never would've thought up such a curiosity as Simon put it. Now it was all he could think about. When he finally drifted off, he dreamed about Simon's red door.
Although he had no appetite, they stopped for dinner before the hit since there was no telling how long it would take and they needed to keep up their strength. Miko played with his tie as he looked down indecisively at the menu, finally just giving in and ordering the same thing as Nasir. Then he ordered something else.
Nasir raised his eyebrows inquisitively as the waiter wrote down Miko's order, the waiter's eyebrows also raised. “Now that is a curiosity,” Nasir said once the man left.
“I want to look at it.”
Sipping his wine, Nasir nodded as if that made perfect sense. “For a moment I thought you wanted to eat it. Which would, of course, be crazy.”
Miko put several candies in his mouth, which was, of course, crazy. “I will help tonight. I can do.” With a tap of his finger on the table, Nasir drew Miko's attention to the fact that he was gripping his knife in a way that was not conducive to cutting food even if they had already been served. Miko set it back down and put his hands in his lap so he wouldn't be tempted to pick it up again.
The moment the steak was brought to the table, Miko's tattoo stopped hurting. He arranged the plate in the center, behind his own, and he leaned down a bit to watch it closer. It was so rare he imagined it move and he twitched, putting a roast carrot medallion into his mouth.
Nasir leaned a little closer too, mimicking Miko and eating as they both observed the steak, watching it long after it grew cold. “Is this going to become a habit?” Miko giggled. “I'll take that as a yes.”
Claudius
Miko: Age 27
They holed up in a hotel while they waited for Simon to come to them, Miko's bruises developing by the minute. They were too wound up to sleep, and Miko was too wound up to call Toby, so they sat together on the bed with the TV on, neither paying much attention to it. Miko kept looking at the passport, Fabrizio Fabrizio Fabrizio. Claudius. It couldn't be. He'd once wished that whoever killed Ophelia was someone Hector had never told stories about, someone Miko didn't idolize even for a second, but now all Miko wanted was to know more. Who was he? Miko hadn't gotten to question him, had only told the man not to come in his mouth. It wasn't the vengeance he wanted. It wasn't the vengeance she deserved.
He threw the passport across the room again and Nasir went to pick it up again, setting it back on the table. “It could be Lorenzo. The Z. Simon called that handler about him specifically.”
“He is superstitious.” Miko started shaking his head. “No. This is not right. He used a razor. No Z.”
“Simon will know who he is,” Nasir said reassuringly.
“It is not enough!” Miko shouted, and Nasir motioned with his hand to his mouth for Miko to be quieter. “It cannot be that. All of this to smash his head and nothing. It is not a cold enough dish.”
“Miko, I told you before that getting revenge will not be the gratification you're looking for. Not at first.”
It wasn't any gratification. Miko felt sick. He'd eaten the last of the candies an hour ago but Nasir didn't want to leave him alo
ne so they had to wait for Simon. Nasir had instructed Simon to bring as many as he could.
There was finally a knock at the door and Miko tore it open before Nasir could stop him, Simon tossing a bag of candy at him like tossing bait to a shark. “There you are then, let's all settle down.” Simon shut the door behind him. He glanced at the single bed with a look of intrusiveness and Miko remembered that he and Nasir were supposed to be lovers. Remembered Hector's disapproval. Would it be proof enough for Hector now? It wasn't proof enough for Miko.
Simon set the rest of the bags of candy on the table, picking up the passport and sighing as he opened it. “That's Lorenzo.” He shook his head. “I'm sorry, Miko. I was wrong.”
Miko had to chew hard and swallow several times just to clear the block of candy out of his mouth. “You never believed me. You just wanted me to get the book.”
Simon averted his eyes and nodded. Miko wanted to punch him again, but Nasir beat him to it, socking him right in the eye. It wasn't clear who was more shocked by it, Simon, Miko, or Nasir himself. “All right, I deserved that.” Simon rubbed his face with a pained wince. “Did you break your hand?”
Nasir flexed his fingers a few times and shook his head. “No.”
Dropping the passport on top of the candy, Simon slumped into a chair and asked, “So what do we do now?”
“I want his handler,” Miko said.
“Giancarlo Pellucci. I'll tell you all I know about him, but I doubt he'll come up for air any time soon. If ever again. You killed Lorenzo, he'll know you're after him next.”
“He came after me.”
“Yes, but he does not have your reputation. They're scared of you, Miko. And the more they hear, the more afraid they'll be. What kind of mess did you make of Lorenzo?”
“There was blood everywhere,” Miko said. Simon didn't need to know that at least half of the blood was just in Miko's mind.
“Good. That helps. And the job?”
“It's done,” Nasir said.
Simon unwrapped one of Miko's candies but the look on Miko's face obviously discouraged him from actually eating it. “I suppose congratulations are in order at any rate. You have your revenge. Would you like to keep this as a souvenir?” He held up Fabrizio—Lorenzo's passport. Miko made no move to take it. Simon stood back up. “I understand that you're upset. Anyone would be. But it's over now. You can lay Ophelia to rest.”
“If you say her name again I will tear out your spine,” Miko said plainly.
“See, you're feeling like your old self again already.”
Nasir cleared his throat to be heard through the bickering. “Would you like us to stay on hand in case you have any issues with the client? I want to get out of the country.” Miko knew what Nasir really wanted was to get him back home with Toby to recover from such an anticlimactic finale to an already dismal quest.
“No, I'll be fine. In the unlikely event that Pellucci does show up I'll grab him for you, and I'll have the associate keep an eye out.”
“Thank you. Now please leave. I'd rather not see you right now.”
Simon gave an uncomfortable grimace and left the room properly chided. Nasir just lowered his head. “I'm truly sorry, Miko. I can't imagine how discouraging this is for you.”
Miko slipped the passport into his pocket, along with a handful of candies. “Let me know when the next job will be. I am going home.”
Miko walked for a long time, carrying his bag with a few changes of clothes and all the candy Simon had brought. He felt empty. There was no justification that made it better, not that Lorenzo had been killed in a bathroom like Ophelia had, not that Miko smashed his skull on the tile. Not even that Miko survived an attack from an assassin who was most certainly more skilled at his job.
As dawn rose he finally sat down at a park and called Toby to let him know he was on his way. It went to voicemail. Miko was about to leave a message when he saw an internet cafe across the street. It would be open in a few hours. Miko wanted to leave a message.
Toby would be waiting for him in short term parking, but Miko didn't go straight there. He looked up Ophelia's website on his phone, anxiously scrolling through the comments, hoping for a reply. Hoping for proof that this wasn't over. But all that was there was the original message “Hamlet should know to concern himself with the clients, not the weapons” and then Miko's reply which Nasir had told him not to send, whatever he did: Who yields such weapons?
Miko couldn't even summon the strength to smile at Toby when he saw him waiting by the car, but by the pitying look on Toby's face Miko guessed he'd already spoken with Nasir. Toby held up some flowers, which succeeded in lifting his spirits even where Toby had failed on his own. “Hey, little spoon.”
“You talk to Nas?”
“He said you were upset. That's all. Doesn't look like upset even begins to cover it.” Toby handed Miko the bouquet and the flowers were promptly squished between them as they embraced. “You got in another fight? Was that your mark?”
“It was Lorenzo,” Miko said numbly.
“Oh my God.” Toby leaned back to look into Miko's face. “You fought? You killed him?” Miko nodded, but it only took one look at his expression for Toby to understand. “Okay, so that's one more off the list.”
Beginning to cry, Miko gripped Toby tighter, forgetting all about the flowers. “Simon says it was him. That it had to be him but it does not feel like him.”
“Well what does Simon know? He can't even kill a guy before he publicly gives away someone else's fortune.”
Miko laughed. “I love you.”
Toby kissed his head. “I love you too.”
“I posted a message on Fee's site.”
“Didn't Nasir tell you not to?”
“Yes.”
“I'll keep an eye on it. He doesn't have to know.”
“He punched Simon in the face.”
Toby smirked. “Simon's getting a lot of that recently. About time if you ask me.” Then he winced and gently touched Miko's face, the worry starting to show through Toby's happiness to see him. “He got a good hit on you.”
“Come on, we will talk in the car.” Miko took the keys, knowing that once he told Toby that this wasn't just a run of the mill fist fight but an actual attempt at murder, it would be best if Toby wasn't driving. “He came after me. To take me out.”
Toby held his mouth, making a sound like he'd just been kicked.
“I am okay.” Miko reached over and held Toby's thigh, his prosthetic fingers grazing the spot on the inside of Toby's leg that was Toby's first real moment of intimacy with another man. “I said to you before that men had been distracted by thinking of their lovers and got killed.”
Toby closed his eyes and squeezed Miko's hand. “Please don't say I was distracting you. God, Miko—”
“I thought of you and I fought harder. I say do widzenia to him. I will not say to you again. Ever.”
An alleviated smile crept across Toby's face. “You really said do widzenia to him while you were fighting for your life?”
“I told him not to come in my mouth,” Miko said with a laugh. Toby choked on his tongue. “It was the only Italian I could think of. Caught him off guard at least.”
“The infamous Mako Shark, vanquishing his enemies by sheer weirdness.”
“And my marks.”
“Yeah, those too.” Toby laughed and shook his head. “Will you go back after this, or are you too pissed at Simon?”
“I have to go back. They are scared of me. And the more they hear, the more afraid they'll be.”
Handled Without Care
Miko: Age 25
Freezing in place as a man exited Simon's apartment, Miko utilized great willpower to refrain from running up and saying hello to a man who had to be a colleague. There would be no other reason for someone to visit Simon that Miko could possibly think of. There were few reasons to visit Simon in the first place.
Miko watched him walk by, slyly taking in the man's features out o
f the corner of his eye. Not an Englishman with that complexion. Spanish maybe, or Italian. A nose so long that it seemed to lead the man's entire body as he went down the street. Miko waited until the nose turned the corner to knock on Simon's door.
“You are two hours late,” Simon said as he opened it.
“Who was that?”
“Who?”
“That man. He just left. Who was he?”
“None of your business. Get in here.”
Miko followed him inside, not bothering to remove his coat since he wouldn't be there long. “You have job for me?” The jobs had been scarce since the incident with Ophelia, Simon acting like it was a personal affront that Miko had ruined her face. When there were jobs, they were the kind that Simon wouldn't bother assigning to his more valuable assets: jobs that took brutality but little skill; ones that took more time to prep than they were worth; or else they were in undesirable locations, places that his other men wouldn't have any interest in vacationing. At least Simon no longer felt the need to play her films while Miko was visiting.
“Yes.” Simon tossed him an envelope. “Paint the walls. I mean that literally. They are to be exsanguinated, cover as many surfaces as possible.”
“Exsan—”
“Emptied of blood,” Simon grumbled. “Chop them up. Make a mess. A perfect job for you if ever there was one.”
Miko could already see it, his heart pounding. He pulled out the photograph just to have something to look at other than the blood painted on Simon's walls. “They? This is double?”
“Husband and wife. Good luck not leaving footprints. At least avoiding fingerprints will be easier.”
Clicking his candy against his teeth, Miko gave Simon a glare. He wondered whether this was Simon's revenge for all the times he'd tracked mud onto his carpet.
“Yuri will meet you, give you everything you need.”
The Mercy of the Mako Shark Page 12
