“She left after that?” Miko asked.
“Not right away. She was grateful for my protection, and we went about our lives as if it hadn't happened. Then I went off to a job and when I returned she was gone.” Hector took Miko's hand in his. “Do you want to marry Ophelia? Is this why you're asking?” Miko emitted a sound of pure shock, which Hector took as confirmation. “It is different between you two. With everything that has happened, it is no longer dangerous for you to be near her. Her fame has nearly dried up, the risk is gone.”
“Hector—”
“Perhaps you will give me grandchildren, hmm?” Hector got such a light in his eyes that Miko could only nod and feel even more heartbroken.
“Did you ever find her? See her again?”
“Find her?” Hector gave a soft chuckle. “No, Miko. I did not look for her.”
“But why?” Miko asked desperately. He kept calling Toby's answering machine at work just to hear his voice.
“Because there was no future in it. Our marks are afraid of us, my boy. Our loved ones should not be.”
Miko slipped his hand away, placing it in his lap underneath the table. “This is a very sad story, Papa.” And a true one.
A Serving of Revenge
Miko: Age 27
The call came at night, just like Ophelia's fateful call from Morocco. Like before, it was Toby getting out of bed that woke Miko. Toby handed over the phone. “I think it's Russell.” The only other person who might call so late was Sophie, and by now Toby knew her number even though her sleeping had vastly improved by having the cat to cuddle with.
Joe didn't say hello. He just said, “We've got him. Meet me in Madrid,” and then he hung up.
It had been months of waiting, months of Joe sweet talking Rodrigo to gain his trust. And now it was time.
“Should I wake Nasir?” Toby asked. Nas had been sleeping on Toby's sofa, keeping Miko entertained during the day while Toby was at work and taking cooking lessons from Toby when he got home. He hadn't learned a thing.
“He will be awake.” Miko hurriedly started packing, his hands inexplicably shaking.
Toby stood aside, watching him with a mournful expression. “Are you okay?”
Miko gave him a perplexed look like he didn't understand the question. “Of course I am okay. I am getting my revenge.”
“I know, that's...why I asked.” Toby nodded towards Miko's hands and Miko twitched.
Gripping the bag to steady himself, or so Toby couldn't see the trembling of his hands, Miko turned an accusatory eye on him. He felt rattled. Anxious. There was blood everywhere. “Why would I not be okay?”
Shrugging insecurely, Toby said, “Because you idolized him, because he was just doing his job? Your job.”
Miko glared at him and kept packing, slamming the dresser drawer shut after he threw some more clothes in the bag. The force knocked over Toby's picture frame and Miko took a deep breath before carefully righting it. “He killed her. He deserves to die.”
“He did, but—”
“But nothing!” Miko shoved several candies in his mouth without bothering to unwrap them, then held his head. “Why are you saying these things?”
Toby tried wrapping his arms around Miko's shoulders, but Miko pulled away. “You're upset. I'm worried about you.”
“You are always worried. About everything.” Roughly zipping up his bag, Miko started to get dressed.
“Like I don't have reason to worry?”
“I will not be shot.”
“Miko, did you even stop to consider what effect this is going to have on you? Look how fucked up Nasir was after Simon and—”
“Rodrigo is not Simon. He is not my friend. He killed Fee!”
“He was your friend,” Toby said meekly. “At least to you he was. Just think about it.”
“I have done nothing but think about it! I am going to do it!” He stormed out of the bedroom, Nasir already dressed and waiting by the door with his own bag, and all the toiletries for them both from the bathroom. “I am going,” he said again, and left without saying goodbye. Nasir silently followed.
It wasn't until they got to the airport that Nasir finally spoke his peace. “You should not have raised your voice at him.”
“I know.” Miko sighed. All the hostility had left him with the closing of the door, and now Miko was doing nothing but thinking about what Toby had said. This wasn't the only time Toby tried to justify what Rodrigo had done. He'd said it before, and Miko had yelled at him before. There was no justification. It didn't matter why Rodrigo had done it. Assassinations were still murder, and he'd killed Miko's first real friend. Ophelia wasn't a mark. She was sweet and shy and never cruel to anyone. She wasn't someone bad who deserved to die. Not like Rodrigo deserved it. Hamlet concerned himself with the client and the weapon. It was the only way his vengeance would ever be satisfied, and it made Miko feel that helpless anger all over again to have that vengeance discounted. More than that, Miko didn't want to admit how scared he was of Toby not understanding what this meant to him. Of not understanding who Miko was. “You think he is right?” he asked, desperate for the reassurance that Toby was wrong.
“I think you need to do this. At least face him.”
Miko nodded. He hoped Joe would bring him a weapon. A straight razor. Miko did not care about facing Rodrigo. He wanted to slit his throat.
Neither of them slept on the plane. Miko kept getting up and pacing the aisles, unable to sit still. He couldn't have anything to eat or drink, not even the cookies Toby had made that Nasir had the foresight to pack. It all looked like blood. Nasir let the flight attendant know that he'd forgotten his medication, but was not dangerous. Somehow they didn't have airport security waiting for them when they got off the plane. But Joe was.
Miko let Nasir sit up front, bouncing his way to the backseat with their luggage. He almost always put his luggage in the backseat instead of the trunk, as if trunks were more appropriately designed for human passengers than cushioned seats with seatbelts. “I need straight razor,” he said to Joe.
“I know you do, kid,” Joe said. “I'll give it to you once you settle down a little. You're a bit twitchy. Wouldn't want you to cut yourself.”
“Cut my fingers off,” Miko laughed, putting another candy in his already full mouth. “Where is he?”
“I'm scheduled to meet with him tomorrow evening. In public. He's pretty freaked out.”
“Good,” Miko said. He made a fist, pretending he had the razor already.
“I told him you were the one who killed Simon, considering your reputation and the state of things.” He turned to Nasir and said, “Hope you don't mind.”
Nasir shook his head. “That's what the reputation is there for.”
They both glanced in the rearview mirror at Miko, flicking his fingers and practicing with the air. “I see what you mean,” Joe said. “But it's nice to have some enthusiasm in this business.”
“I suppose that's true.”
Joe drove to the hotel he'd already reserved for them, leaving them with the keys for a van that was parked in the lot. Once they got in the room he gave Nasir a map showing the meeting place and somewhere to take Rodrigo where they wouldn't be interrupted, and a syringe of horse tranquilizers courtesy of Miranda to help get him there. Then Joe handed the weapon over. Miko practically snatched it out of his hand in excitement. “If you need anything else you know where to find me.” Joe patted Miko on the shoulder, not even flinching when Miko moved in for a hug instead.
Miko's ribs were still a bit sore but he wasn't thinking about that right now. “Thank you.”
“The team says hi,” Joe told him after Miko had been reigned in by Nasir and was no longer cemented to his side.
Sophie had been keeping Miko updated on their issues, though she embellished the truth even more than Hector. She seemed to know excessive gory details despite not having been anywhere near the events when they happened. “They have killed many assassins?”
“They do what needs to be done. I'm sure Sophie has told you all about it.”
“Yes, she did.” Sophie had given him nightmares.
“Well, good luck tomorrow.” Joe shook Nasir's hand before leaving. He'd offered to train Nasir to be an associate once everything was settled. Nas wouldn't have to kill anyone again, but he wasn't comfortable enough around people to be a handler. The clients wouldn't be comfortable around him either.
Taking the razor from him, Nasir set it on the dresser along with the map and syringe. “I am not letting you have a weapon until we get him off the streets. It's not that I don't trust you—”
“I will exsanguinate him on sight.”
“Precisely.” Nasir sat on the bed, gesturing for Miko to join him. “We have come a long way for this, my friend.”
Miko couldn't take his eyes off the razor. It was so sharp. Sharp enough to end Ophelia's career. And her life. His life.
“Do you remember what I said to you last year? Before we went to her parents' home? I told you that going after them would not change how you feel. The pain in your heart.”
“I remember everything you say, Nas.”
Nasir nodded even though he looked doubtful. “Your journey is different than mine was, Miko. I have guided you the best that I can, but I do not know where you go from here. Perhaps this will be the last life you take. I daresay the sheen that was on your idols is no longer quite as bright.”
“I have found my true idols. They are my friends. You are my friend.” He held Nasir's hand, but he was imagining the weapon, not Nasir's bony fingers. “Rodrigo is my enemy.” Rodrigo was his colleague.
“Sometimes these things are not so clear,” Nasir said quietly. What was clear was who he was thinking about. “Would you like to speak with him? Ask him about her? I can hold you back until you're ready.”
Miko had only ever waved to him. They'd never spoken a word to each other, and Rodrigo was terrified of him. Terrified of the Mako Shark. Would Rodrigo tell the truth about her last moments? Could Miko bear to hear it? He was shaking again. “Yes, hold me. Back.”
Nasir brought out Frank's Shakespeare book from his bag. Miko hadn't even realized Nasir had it. “I will read you this story.”
“I do not understand it.”
“I know,” Nasir said, and he began.
The sight of his traditional steak sent Miko to the bathroom to be sick, and he stood in front of the mirror, his eyes watering, his lips vividly red. The vomit in the toilet had been red as well, likely due to his diet of nothing but cinnamon candies for the last thirty-six hours as much as his mental problems.
Rinsing his face, Miko held a candy under the weak stream of cold water, watching the blood flow. He'd stolen the butter knife from the table just to have it to hold, and he gripped it in his right hand the best he could, holding it in his pocket.
Miko remembered tracing a candy over his neck, drawing a line like Rodrigo's scar. Pretending to be Rodrigo. That was the first job that went bad for him. He spoke his name like he imagined Ophelia had. A barely audible whisper. In terror. He put the candy in his mouth and went to rejoin Nasir. The plates had been cleared.
Nasir stood and set some money on the table. He held out his hand and Miko gave him back the knife. He put that on the table too and they walked out together. Nasir would drive and Miko would be in the back. They would pull up alongside Rodrigo as he left the meeting with Joe, feeling reassured that Joe was taking care of him. That he would protect him from the Mako Shark.
Nothing could protect him now.
“He was never my friend,” Miko said to himself, swaying in the back of the van as Nasir drove. His mind was muddled, too much Shakespeare the night before. Good night, sweet prince. Miko hadn't slept since he was in bed with Toby. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. The order came from on high. It was Simon, not Silva. Flights of angels would sing Rodrigo to rest. Sing from on high.
Miko ate another candy. Ophelia drowned in the play. A red brook. A red bathtub. Sweets to the sweet. “I need the razor.”
“Not now.”
“Two seconds?”
“No. It's almost time.”
Miko twitched and went back to swaying. “Okay.”
Pulling over, Nasir checked his phone, the screen illuminating his scarred face. “Joe will be with him. He can help me grab him. Stay here.” Nasir didn't give him a chance to argue, getting out of the van and leaning against the door. The latch to open the back of the van from inside had been purposefully broken and Miko couldn't get over the seats because of a steel partition, but he would watch the rearview mirror. It took a few more agonizing minutes before Miko spotted them, not realizing at first that it was them.
Rodrigo looked very different than Miko had remembered; no longer proud, he wore a gray scarf around his neck. His hair had turned white.
Moving closer, Miko slipped the fingers on his left hand through the grating, his heart pounding as Nasir began his approach. Miko didn't permit himself to blink, watching as Joe lagged a bit behind and then grabbed his arms behind his back, pulling Rodrigo off center while Nasir fell upon him with the syringe, plunging it into his throat.
They held Rodrigo together, like helping a drunk friend home. Miko watched until they disappeared from view behind the van, then turned around, painfully catching his fingers that he'd forgotten to remove. He anxiously sucked on them, staring at the doors without breathing.
When the doors were pulled open Miko found himself frozen in place, a man who had always been larger than life to him now limp in unconsciousness. The sheen was gone. Nasir tugged Rodrigo's scarf off his neck, using it to tie his hands instead of the rope they'd brought since Miko was standing on it. “How long will the drug last?” Nasir asked.
“He'll be out awhile. I was going off Miko's description of his height and weight, and Miranda said an hour or so. He's lighter than speculated.”
Miko gave Rodrigo a tentative poke. “He is lighter than speculated.” And shorter than Miko remembered.
“Ride up front with me.” Nasir took Miko's hand like he was a child and led him out of the van. He didn't seem to mind that Miko's hand was wet from being sucked on, and probably sticky. Joe gave them a courteous nod and walked away as if he hadn't just delivered a man to his death. “Rodrigo has changed since you saw him last,” Nasir stated, the look on Miko's face confirmation enough.
Craning his neck, Miko watched Rodrigo in the back of the van, rolling slightly with the turning of the wheel. “Not the man I thought he was.”
“They seldom are,” Nasir said thoughtfully.
Miko did not take his eyes off of Rodrigo the entire journey. This man had killed Ophelia. He'd killed many people. Just like Miko. “'It shall to the barber's, with your beard,'” Miko recited, remembering the line because it mentioned barbers even though he was fairly certain it meant something else entirely, just like the rest of the play. Rodrigo didn't have a beard. Perhaps he should've.
Nasir stopped the car outside the abandoned building Joe had located for them, once again instructing Miko to stay put as he dragged Rodrigo inside. Miko didn't listen this time since the doors didn't lock from the outside, and he followed Nasir, walking in the lines Rodrigo's feet had left in the sand.
There was a chair in the center of the room and Nasir slumped Rodrigo onto it. “Tie him to the arms,” Miko said as Nasir started tying Rodrigo's hands behind his back again. “Wrists up.”
Doing as instructed, Nasir tied one of Rodrigo's hands and asked Miko to bring the rope from the van for the other one. “What do you think?” he asked once Rodrigo was firmly bound.
“I want the razor.”
“We're going to speak with him first.”
“Oh. Yes, I remember.” Miko sat on the floor in front of the chair, staring up at him. Then he hopped to his feet, reaching out and touching Rodrigo's scar. Gasping and tugging his hand back in pain, Miko sat down again and put his hands in his lap. His fingers were scalded. “He
is hot?”
“No, you're imagining it.”
Miko inspected his fingers to be sure. It was Toby's burn that he'd seen. Not real. Not now.
He was about to eat a candy when Rodrigo's eyelids began to flutter and Miko stood, the candy dropping forgotten to the floor. Nasir held Miko's shoulder, whether to keep him from attacking or falling over wasn't clear.
Rodrigo had some difficulty waking up, his head heavy as he tried to raise it. He blinked to focus, his eyes settling on Miko and Nasir with confusion on his face. He muttered something in Spanish, too quiet for Miko to make out if it was even a word he knew. Pulling ineffectually at his restraints in an attempt to regain control of his faculties, Rodrigo turned his attention to his bound wrists. “No,” he said, and he began pulling his arms, trying to get free. “No!”
“Yes,” Miko said smugly, drawing Rodrigo's gaze back to him.
“You?” He squinted like he couldn't make Miko out. “I know you.” Rodrigo seemed more surprised to see who the Mako Shark was than to see his worst nightmare standing before him at all. They'd only seen each other once, at Silva's when Miko was going to the doctor for gonorrhea or chlamydia or both. Months ago it would've excited Miko to be remembered. Now Miko would be the last thing Rodrigo saw in this life.
“It is me,” Miko said, holding his head a little higher like he had before the mirror, pretending to be the man in front of him. “And here we are.”
Giving a final tug at the scarf and rope that held him, Rodrigo set his jaw and tried steadying himself but he was trembling. “It was a job. You know this. You know what we do!”
Miko moved forward, Rodrigo's bound figure the only thing in the room that wasn't red. He wasn't aware of Nasir any longer. Rodrigo was all he saw. “She said your name.”
A startled sob escaped Rodrigo's lips. “Dios mio,” he cried. “I tried to help her!”
The Mercy of the Mako Shark Page 20
