by C. S. De Mel
“WHAO!” Dennis screamed. Fashion guy’s eyes bulged. Lomez’s guests gasped and then immediately broke into applause. Everyone was apparently too blitzed to second-guess what they had just seen.
“Bloody awesome, man!” Lomez said, congratulating Scorcher. He then whispered so that only Scorcher could hear: “But that really wasn’t going easy on him, now was it?”
Fashion guy held up Scorcher’s hand. “Well, I’m not going to even bother trying to compete with that. Winner!” He had apparently gained a newfound respect for Scorcher. “What did you say your name was again, mate?”
Scorcher glanced at Lomez, who nodded, indicating that he should go on with his spectacle. “The name’s Sizzler.”
“Whoa-ho. Sizzler like the restaurant chain?”
“No. Sizzler like I’ll cook your face.” Fashion guy laughed hysterically. Scorcher’s eye gleamed. “Watch this.” He held up his hand, with two fingers pointing to the sky like a gun. A fireball erupted from his fingertips and soared into the air and dissipated like fireworks.
Scorcher raised his hands in the air triumphantly as everyone cheered him on. “That’s spectacular! How’d you do it?” Fashion guy questioned. “It’s a trick with your costume? Something in the gloves?”
Scorcher grinned. “Magic, my friend... It’s magic.” Suddenly, a loud roar followed by several screams drew their attention poolside.
“Oh crap. Lobo!” Lomez cried, and then ran towards the pool.
Scorcher pointed at Dennis Wang and Fashion guy. “You two mooks wait here. This sounds dangerous.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice; I don’t wanna be around when that lion goes full-blown lion,” Fashion guy replied. Dennis looked at Fashion guy with a pouting face, then glanced at Scorcher and reluctantly nodded in agreement.
Lobo was by the pool amongst a large crowd. The lion was angrily knocking over food tables, as if someone had turned his home into a marketplace. Lomez stared. “Oh, you stupid fucks. What the hell did you idiots do?!”
A drunken cowboy walked up to Lomez and grabbed him by the collar. “Oh god, Lomez, it’s bad! It’s so bad! Lobo got into the party favors, man! He’s gonna start rippin’ into someone any second now, and we’re all gonna get carved up like Kobe beef!”
Lomez shoved the cowboy to the ground. “Shut up, fucker!” Lobo turned and roared at the crowd. If there was winter weather, one could easily think that someone pissed off this lion by throwing a snowball in its face. Lomez slowly edged towards the lion. “Easy, boy...easy.”
Scorcher placed a hand on Lomez’s shoulder and pushed him aside. “I got this.” The lion was foaming at the mouth. It locked eyes with Scorcher and was making guttural noises, as if it were going to cough up a giant fur-ball. Scorcher thumped his chest with both fists and the lion charged. Lobo leapt into the air with its claws out and was ready to tear into Scorcher. People in the crowd screamed with fright. “Into the drink, Mufasa!” Scorcher crouched down to avoid the paws and caught the lion under the chin with a massive uppercut. Lobo sailed through the air and landed in the swimming pool with a big splash.
The cowboy raised a fist to his mouth. “Oh snap! Bro, you just knocked Lobo the fuck out!”
Scorcher and the others watched the lion’s body bob in the water for a few moments, then slowly sink into the pool. Scorcher glanced at Lomez, who was standing in silence, rooted to the spot in shock. He looked just about ready to cry.
“Alright, Lobo, you can come out now...” Scorcher waited, but there was no response. “I know you can swim; you’re just perpetuating a stereotype! Your fellow cat brethren would be ashamed of you!”
The cowboy placed a hand on Scorcher’s shoulder. “Bro, he’s not coming up...you KO’d him.”
Scorcher looked around nervously. “Come on now, Lobo, this isn’t funny!” The surface of the pool was now calm, and Lobo the lion had sunk to the bottom of the pool like a stone. “Shit...someone fish him out!”
“How?” one of the bystanders asked. “He’s a great dirty lion... He weights like 500 pounds.”
Scorcher sighed. “Ahh. Well, fuck—me.” Scorcher walked to the edge of the pool, unfastened his cape, and dove in.
***
It was well into the early hours of the morning. The party was still going, but much more relaxed and mellow. Scorcher was lounging by the pool with several of the party guests including Lomez, Dennis, and Fashion guy. Lounge chairs were set up all over the lawn, and with the clear night sky, it was perfect for stargazing.
For the last hour, Scorcher had been spouting nonsense back and forth between Lomez and the other characters lounging by the pool. He swirled the drink in his glass, then polished it off. Scorcher had consumed an exorbitant amount of alcohol—he wasn’t even sure if he had a cut-off limit. The warm, fuzzy feeling hugging him all over gave Scorcher the impression that he was in fact intoxicated. But the feeling stayed the same, despite him continuing to drink increasingly lethal quantities of alcohol. Scorcher glanced beside him where Lobo was lying lazily in the grass. “This guy’s sure calm now.”
Lomez grinned. “Yeah, I’ll say. He had the uppers, and now he’s on the downers. It’s all a balancing act.”
“So, how the hell did you manage that?” Fashion guy asked.
“Oh, it was easy. Me and Sizzler took him into the house and put him in my hotbox room. When he woke up, he was one cool cat.”
“Meh. I still think you should’ve gotten a tiger instead. What did Tony Montana have, huh? A tiger!”
“What you talking!” Dennis yelled. “This the king of the jungle!”
“Oh please, that’s a false crown. Tigers are bigger, stronger, and smarter. You pit a tiger against a lion, nine times out of ten, the tiger’s gonna win.”
“But the lion’s got the speed and the mane! What about the mane! That stuff’s like armor! How’s a tiger gonna claw at that jugular with all that mane!”
Fashion guy smirked, shaking his head. “Okay, first of all—”
“Fashion guy, shut the fuck up, ya know-it-all fuck! Lobo here’s the king of the jungle!” roared Dennis. “You suck, tigers suck, end of story!”
Lomez rubbed his face. He turned to Scorcher. “So...how’s Sizzler been working?” Lomez asked.
“I think they like the name; they really like it!”
“Ahh, Interesting topic,” said Fashion guy, nodding. “What’s in a name?”
“Do you even have a name, Fashion guy?” Scorcher asked.
“In actuality, his name is Jeter,” Lomez responded.
“The hell with Jeter!” Dennis Wang yelled. “Everyone here knows you a Fashion guy, not a Jeter!”
“What about you, Lomez, what’s that?” Scorcher asked. “First or last name?”
Lomez laughed. “That’s my only name; I don’t need two. You say the one name and you know who it is. Just look at me and you, man: Lomez and Sizzler. There’s no first or last with us. Our names transcend time—they simply just are. Only the best of us can pull that off.”
“Cheers to that.” Scorcher and Lomez clinked their drinks together.
“Hay! Screw you both!” Dennis Wang yelled.
Lomez leaned in so that no one else could hear them. “Just between you and me, Scorcher… What’s your deal?”
“What’s my deal?”
“How can I put this delicately... Why do you look—the way that you look? Science experiment gone wrong? Born a horrible mutant freak?”
Scorcher grinned. “Getting warmer.” Lomez thought for a moment, then made a small gesture, pointing up to the sky with his index finger. Scorcher tapped his nasal aperture, where on a normal face, a nose would have been present.
Lomez leaned his head back and let out a hearty laugh. “Ho-ho, that’s rich. But you know, for a monster-looking alien abomination, you are a cultured cat. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who has such an in-depth knowledge of rock & roll history as myself.”
“Yeah, you pick up a thing or two, being on
this planet as long as I have. Hmm, how long has it been?” Scorcher paused a moment to think. “Hell, I don’t even know anymore.”
Lomez’s phone began to vibrate. “One sec.” He ruffled through his pants pocket and pulled out his cell. “Yeah? Hey, Turly, how’s it going, buddy?” Scorcher stared at Lomez while thinking to himself that if Turly was trying to reach him by calling Lomez, then the call was probably nothing good. “Yeah, he’s with me; you want me to put him on?”
Scorcher shook his hands in protest, but Lomez took no heed and tossed him the phone. Scorcher sighed. “Yeah? Uh-huh, yeah. No, don’t worry, I’ll be back in time.” Lomez watched Scorcher curiously. He could hear Turly’s voice yelling through the phone, apparently giving Scorcher the business. “Don’t worry—no, I will...I will! Monday morning, got it. I said I got it! ‘Kay-bye.” Scorcher tossed the phone back to Lomez.
“Schemes?”
“Yeah…” Scorcher whispered so that only Lomez could hear: “Monday morning, we got a big heist planned.”
“You’re not going to kill anyone, are you?”
Scorcher looked affronted while shaking his head vigorously. “No...no-no-no! Well, yes. Just one person.”
“Oh well. Strictly business?”
Scorcher smiled. “Strictly business.”
Lomez picked up the end of Scorcher’s cape. “Now I tell you what you do Monday morning. You walk into your job wearing this cape. It compliments the hair.”
Scorcher laughed. “You’re joking, right? This cape?”
“Yeah—I want you to have it. You protected my guests and saved Lobo from drowning. It’s the least I can do.”
“No offense, Lomez, but this thing’s kinda gaudy.”
“Kinda gaudy? My god, man! Just look! Look at that face of yours! You are the poster boy for gaudy.” Lomez pointed his beer bottle at Scorcher. “You need to start embracing that.”
Scorcher stroked his chin. “Hmm...maybe.” Scorcher stretched his arms and looked up at the stars, feeling content. “We’ll see…”
***
Chapter 12 – A Case of the Mondays
Monday, November 1st, 1999
“Mommy, Mommy!” The little girl tugged on her mother’s arm. “This is boring, can we go?”
“Soon, dear. I just need to finish a few errands and then we can go.” It was a deceptively chilly November morning, with the sun shining as bright as it was. A mother and daughter waited in line at the New York City First Bank. Mondays were typically busy. The bank lines were long, and all of the tellers were occupied.
“Mommy, can’t you do the errands later?”
“Don’t worry, it’s worth the wait,” the man in line behind them told the little girl. “They’ll give you a lolly at the end of it.” He winked. “If you’re a good girl for your mother, that is.”
The girl closed her mouth, made a zipping motion across her lips, and gave a thumbs-up to the man. Her mother smiled pleasantly at him. “Thanks. She’s always a handful.”
“Not a problem.”
“Well, aren’t you the gentleman,” Lucas Solly mumbled to his brother.”
Mark smirked. “Always trying to spread a little sunshine.”
The mother and daughter finished their business, and the Solly brothers were next in line. Each brother was carrying with them a metal briefcase.
“Call Enrique, please,” Lucas instructed to the teller. “He knows why we’re here. Tell him, ‘It’s for Jack’.”
“Oh, erm, okay.” The teller was a bit puzzled but did as she was told. She left her counter to fetch the branch manager.
The mother and daughter that were in line attempted to leave the bank, but the doors were locked. “Excuse me? Could I get some help here?” the mother called. “There seems to be a problem with the front doors.”
A solitary man in a suit was seated on the bench by the doors; his face was buried behind a newspaper. He lowered the paper to reveal a sinister smile. “Trouble, miss?”
“Yes, the doors seem to stuck. Do you work here?”
“Something like that. You’d probably want to step away from the doors.”
The mother was puzzled. “I’m sorry?”
Two bank employees approached the entrance to lend assistance. They jiggled the handles, but the doors held firm. Mark Solly looked over his shoulder to see what the commotion was by the entrance. He tapped his brother on the arm to turn around.
“Hello, there!” The man who was seated on the bench waved at Lucas and Mark. It was Tony Calzone.
***
“Ah, just who I wanted to see!” Enrique exclaimed, upon seeing the Solly brothers at the counter. But their attention was elsewhere.
“Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing!” Tony shouted at Enrique and the Solly brothers.
Lucas stared at Tony. “What is this?” he growled.
Tony placed his newspaper on the bench and stood up. “This, my friend—is retribution.”
The doors to the bank unlocked and opened from the outside. One by one, they entered: Tony’s men—armed to the teeth. Screams of panic erupted inside the bank. The mother by the door was in shock. She immediately got knocked to the ground by the intruders. The two bank employees were thrown to the ground as well. The little girl rushed to her mother’s side to help her up. Tony grinned. “Told you to stay away from the doors.”
Bringing up the rear was Hachiuma and his guard of Thai mercenaries. Ramon walked over to Tony and handed him a pistol and the bank door keys they had acquired prior to the operation. “Here ya go, boss.” Tony pocketed the keys and cocked back the gun.
“Get outta here,” Mark muttered under his breath to Enrique. The manager slowly began to back up.
“STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” Tony bellowed, pointing his gun at Enrique, who gasped in panic. “Right there—that’s a good boy. No one moves unless told to.” Tony paced around the bank, taking in the frightened expressions on the people’s faces. “Right then, everyone to the center. Gather ‘round in front of the counters and have a seat. Get comfy.” Tony eyed the Solly brothers. “You two pricks stay right where you are—you’ll be dealt with in a minute.” Tony pointed his gun at Enrique. “You as well, Smiley. Stay put.” The hostages did as they were told without question. Hachiuma’s eyes followed Tony as he worked.
“Any sort of weapon on you?” Lucas muttered to Mark.
“Nothing. We need to contact our guys somehow.”
The Solly brothers had come with two other men, who were waiting outside the bank at this very moment: Zerneck Wells and Brody Sasso. “They’ll figure out something,” Lucas whispered. “Unless they were both sleeping, they saw these guys rush in here with guns.”
Tony stood beside Ramon and surveyed the layout. “Keep the hostages in line. Secure the exits—keep it locked down and get the windows covered.”
“Will do.” Ramon began directing the men to their positions.
“Alright, boss, we’re ready to make the withdrawal,” Tony informed Hachiuma.
“Good.” Hachiuma spoke briefly to his guard in Thai, then followed Tony.
“Jack Solly’s vault. You can access it?” Tony asked Enrique. Enrique glanced at the Solly brothers.
“Don’t—look at them,” Hachiuma growled through gritted teeth. “Your business is with us, not them.”
“Yes, I-I can do it,” Enrique stuttered.
“Then lead the way,” Tony instructed. “But before you do that, have you contacted the police? The silent alarm?”
“No,” Enrique answered truthfully. “I was told not to move, I would never—”
“Contact the police,” Hachiuma demanded. “Do it now.”
Enrique was perplexed but did as he was told. He was drenched in a cold sweat and was too petrified to think about what he was doing.
“Good. Now let’s go,” Tony said, smiling. “You two as well,” Tony indicated to the Solly brothers. “And bring your briefcases. There are some valuables in there which now belong to us.” Lu
cas and Mark exchanged glances. “Just in case you two were getting any bright ideas, let me clue you in on something.” With his finger, Tony directed the brothers’ attention towards Hachiuma. “This man could snap both your necks in a second.” Lucas didn’t need to be told that from Tony. He had never met Hachiuma before, but just by looking at him, he was quite certain that he was in a completely different league from Mark and himself. He was not going to test him. Not at this moment at least.
Enrique led them to the back of the bank where the vault was located. He was breathing heavy...he couldn’t handle this. He froze in front of the vault and looked down at his trembling hands. “Open the vault now,” Hachiuma ordered. He raised a glowing fist to Enrique’s face. “Or I will do it myself and destroy you along with the vault door.” Enrique turned ghostly white. He was shaking even more now, but nevertheless, he overrode the security measures and released the locks. The vault door swung open, revealing several safety deposit boxes lining the walls. “Solly’s box. Open it.” Lucas gritted his teeth as he watched helplessly. Enrique quickly located the box and unlocked it. Hachiuma inspected the contents of the box, then collected the valuables. “Get the briefcases,” Hachiuma instructed to Tony. Tony smiled, with an outstretched hand in front of Mark and the other hand pointing a gun. Mark handed over his briefcase to Tony, who in turn gave it to Hachiuma. Hachiuma opened the briefcase to discover millions of dollars in bearer bonds. He smiled, satisfied, then placed the valuables from Solly’s box into the briefcase. Lucas stared grimly at Tony, who casually approached him for the second case. Tony grabbed the handle of the briefcase and pulled. Reluctantly, Lucas finally let go.
Tony grinned. “Good boy.” They moved swiftly. Tony and Hachiuma carried the spoils of their plunder and marched the Solly brothers and Enrique back to the front entrance of the bank.
