The Blade

by Saul, Jonas

  THE BLADE

  by

  Jonas Saul

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Imagine Press

  ISBN: 978-1-927404-14-0

  The Blade

  Copyright © 2012 by Jonas Saul

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  As always, dedicated to my wife for her undying support of the writing process and most of all her love.

  Beginning

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  The Hostage - A Preview

  About the Author

  Jonas Saul Titles

  The Sarah Roberts Series

  1. Dark Visions

  2. The Warning

  3. The Crypt

  4. The Hostage

  5. The Victim (coming soon)

  The Kill Series

  1. The Kill

  2. The Blade

  3. The Scythe (coming soon)

  The Threat

  The Specter (coming soon)

  Short Stories

  Visitations - A Book of Short Stories

  The Burning

  The Numbers Game

  Trapped

  The Witching Hour

  The Elements

  Hatred

  The Reaper

  The Ruse

  Bound

  Vengeance

  Chapter 1

  Without sunglasses, it was difficult to look into his wife’s eyes directly. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t want to kill those men. But you know I had no choice. It was an us-or-them decision.”

  She nodded and looked at her feet. “I know, honey. I just don’t understand why it keeps happening. Why can’t they just leave us alone? We don’t want to hurt anyone. We just want to live our lives free of this shit.”

  Her tears always moved him to hug her, hold her. Darwin had an innate need to protect Rosina and keep her safe and he would do anything to achieve that goal. Even if it meant killing.

  He stepped closer and held her in his arms as she cried. Cars raced by on the Florida highway, oblivious to the couple who wept for the five dead men back at the safe house where Darwin and Rosina were supposed to be safe. Two of them Darwin had to kill with his own hands.

  The temperature was too hot to not be moving. The only breeze was when a car passed by. Darwin guessed it to be a little after the lunch hour. He was still dressed in his knee-length shorts and oversized T-shirt that he slept in last night. Rosina did better in the heat with her red sundress as it allowed more ventilation.

  He nudged her to get her walking. She stepped forward and cleared her face of tears.

  “I have to be strong,” she said. “I’m sorry, Darwin. What happened back there wasn’t your fault.”

  They exchanged a look. In that moment, he knew why he married her in Rome months ago. She had a tough exterior and strong personality, but remained soft and feminine on the inside. He’d seen her fight with the Mafia and walk away. He loved her for her soul and only hoped that when everything was over, she’d retain some of that innocence and beauty.

  He smiled in her direction. There was nothing more to say.

  They walked on, feeling the weight of the heat, no one pulling over to offer them a ride. Maybe it was the blood on Darwin’s T-shirt.

  “We need to get inside somewhere,” he said. “This heat is intense.”

  Rosina nodded.

  Darwin read a sign about a hundred meters ahead on the shoulder of the highway. “I guess we’re leaving Folkston, Florida.”

  “Do you know where that is?” Rosina asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Do you know where we are?”

  “Nope.”

  “Darwin.” She stopped and put her back to the traffic. “What are we going to do?”

  Darwin stopped two steps ahead. He moved back to her and waited for a long truck to pass. The wind off it was refreshing. He almost closed his eyes and stretched out his arms.

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “Do we have any money?”

  “None.” Darwin shook his head.

  “So we have no home because our safe house was invaded,” she said, the last word coming out between closed teeth. “We don’t know where we are and we have no money or ID. Where does that leave us?”

  Darwin shrugged. “Wherever you go, there you are?” His attempt to lighten the tension with humor didn’t work.

  “Darwin, I’m serious. What are we going to do?”

  “I have no idea. I wish I knew.”

  “What about my mother? We could call her. She’d wire money.”

  “She doesn’t even know where we are. That was part of the deal. When we went into witness protection, we had to take on new names and not contact old friends and family. Your mother understood. So you can’t call her.”

  “Why not? We’re out of protection now. We can go back to being us.”

  Darwin gestured up the road. “Come on. Let’s keep walking. It’s too hot to stand out in the sun and talk. We need to stay on the move.”

  “Okay, but agree to call her,” Rosina said as she moved alongside Darwin.

  “Not yet. Calling her may be traced. It could lead our enemies to her.”

  “Traced?”

  “Yeah, by the guys who found us in the safe house.”

  “Who do you think they were?”

  “I have no idea, but I can tell you who it isn’t.”

  “Who?”

  “No one from the Fuccini Family. I think they’re done with us. Whoever wasn’t killed in Toronto or Rome has been arrested. No one’s left, last I heard.”

  Another truck rolled by, slowing to turn into the Burger King coming up on the right.

  “Then who?” Rosina asked. “If our enemies were the Fuccinis, then who would send professionals to infiltrate a safe house operated by the FBI to attack us? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know. Come on.” He grabbed her arm. “Let’s go into Burger King and get a glass of water. Then we’ll walk and talk more.”

  She agreed. Ten minutes later, after using the restaurant’s bathroom to clean as much blood off his T-shirt as he could, and refreshed from the complimentary water, they walked hand-in-hand along the side of the road again, their spirits buoyed.

  “If you were to speculate,” Rosina started, “who would you say was behind this morning’s attack?”

  “I’ve thought about that and come to two conclusions. Seeing as it was a safe house, only the FBI would know where we were and only a select few agents would have access to that information. Therefore, I feel there’s either a leak in the FBI, meaning we were sold out, or it was them.”

  “What? I’m confused. Why would the Federal Bureau of Investigation attack us?”

  “Maybe some of the special agents were screwed out of their pensions when mob boss Fuccini was killed. Do you know how many of the authorities are on a mobster’s payroll? Less has motivated people to kill.”

  “Ohhh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I know, me neither. Scary, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  They walked in si
lence until they saw a gas station coming up on the right.

  Darwin stopped and grabbed both her hands in his.

  “Look, Rosina, it’s time to get serious. We have no money on us. We can’t go back and get my wallet or your purse. I haven’t eaten yet today. That asshole back at the house ate my french toast before I could kill him. My adrenaline rush is subsiding and I’m starting to get the shakes. I have to eat.”

  “Okay, what are you saying?”

  “I’m going into that Mobil gas station and I’m going to steal a sandwich or something for the two of us. They won’t even miss it. Once we have food in our stomachs, we can discuss our next step. Is that okay with you?”

  She shuffled her shoulders in a cute way and looked the length of the highway. After a moment, she looked back at him.

  “I don’t like it. We have a fridge full of food back at the house just over an hour’s walk from here. We have access to lots of money as per our arrangement with the FBI. This sucks … but I won’t say no because what else are we going to do? They put us in this position. Somehow, some way, they did this, not us. So, okay, you can grab us something, but on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t get caught.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a sandwich. What could they do?”

  Rosina followed a few steps behind as Darwin walked up the length of the entrance to the Mobil. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His hands shook as the ordeal an hour ago wore off. His step wavered, and he reminded himself that none of the symptoms he felt had anything to do with nervousness. He had to take care of his wife and if that meant stealing a five-dollar sandwich, then he would do it.

  As they neared the door, he turned and whispered to Rosina, “Run interference.”

  He grabbed the door and opened it but was stopped by a hand on his sleeve. Rosina gestured for him to come back out. He followed her a few feet from the door.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What does ‘run interference’ mean?”

  “Avert the clerk’s attention when I’m about to pocket our meal.”

  “How will I know when?”

  Darwin could tell she was having trouble with it. What he didn’t understand was why. We just killed two men and she’s having issues with stealing. Maybe killing to save your own life—self-defense—could be accepted, but outright breaking the law was a completely different story.

  “Look, Rosina, just keep an eye on me. You’ll know, and if I feel you aren’t clear, I’ll nod at you. Okay?”

  “Okay. Just be careful. No more killing.”

  “Of course not. I just hope the guy doesn’t pull a knife on me.”

  She brushed his shoulder. “No jokes right now, either. Let’s just do this and get walking again. I want to try to figure out what we’re going to do next.”

  “Deal.”

  Darwin walked into the air-conditioned Mobil and nearly gasped. It was such a contrast. In Toronto, where he was from, they had humidity, but not the kind of heat Florida got in the summer.

  He counted three customers and a bored-looking clerk. They split up; Rosina headed toward the drinks aisle and Darwin walked toward the sandwich and hotdog section where the wieners sat on steel rollers, constantly spinning.

  After reading all the sandwich labels, he picked up two egg salad sandwiches and discovered he had nowhere to hide them.

  “Shit.”

  He looked at the clerk who was leaning over the counter with a pen in his hand, an open notebook laid flat on the surface of the counter.

  The other customers paid him no attention.

  What now?

  He walked over to Rosina at the drinks fridge.

  “You ready to go?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “What are you going to do with them? How are you going to … you know?”

  “I have an idea. Follow my lead. Don’t say anything. Let me handle it. Oh, and grab a couple Cokes.”

  She frowned and gave him an angry stare. He gestured at the fridge with one of the egg salad sandwiches. “Come on.”

  Score two points for the wife, he thought as she grabbed two Cokes. I love when she trusts me this implicitly.

  Weird elevator music floated down from the speakers above their heads. Darwin walked toward the counter, blocking the music, his mind set on what he was going to do, having no idea if it would work.

  He took one last look behind him. One customer read a magazine at the rack. The second stood in the small hardware section debating what antifreeze would best cool his car, and the third customer stood by the bathroom door, evidently waiting for it to become available.

  He set the sandwiches on the counter and motioned for Rosina to do the same with the Cokes. She did, a smile on her face.

  I’m so proud of you.

  He almost let a tear slip. Even in the face of committing a crime and having no idea what he was about to do, she put on the right face and supported him regardless.

  My life partner, guys. Right beside me here. Read ‘em and weep.

  The clerk hadn’t noticed them. Darwin cleared his throat. He couldn’t waste time. He had to do what he’d planned as fast as he could for it to work.

  The clerk turned slowly and looked at them. He stood to his full height and set his pen down in a lazy I see you—take it easy attitude.

  Well, fuck you, asshole. I’m about to ruin your day.

  The clerk grabbed each sandwich and scanned it. Then the Cokes followed. The till rang up a total.

  “You want a bag?” the clerk asked.

  Even your voice is lazy. He made it sound like bagging their purchase would be so unnecessary that it would be a nuisance.

  “Yes,” was all Darwin could think to do. Well, if you’re going to ask that way, of course I’m going to make you bag my shit.

  He didn’t have the time to keep this up. He reached behind him and dropped a hand in each back pocket in an exaggerated attempt of trying to locate his wallet. He tried his front pockets and came up empty.

  “Oh shit …” He turned to Rosina. “Honey, did you bring your purse?”

  “No. Too hot for that thick strap. You don’t have your wallet?”

  Darwin heard the clerk chewing gun. He had opened his mouth and was smacking his saliva to a rhythm, like the bubbles in bubble wrap being snapped.

  He turned back to the clerk, but not before making sure the other three customers were exactly where they were a moment before.

  “Look, I left my wallet in the car. That blue Impala over there,” he said and pointed through the window at the vehicle parked at the pump. “I’ll go and toss these in the backseat, finish pumping my gas and come back and pay for it all at once.”

  He grabbed the bag and turned to leave. The bag jerked back and Darwin lost his grip.

  “Hold up,” the clerk said. “You mean that blue Impala?”

  Oh shit. Don’t tell me he knows the owner of the car or some shit.

  “Yeah,” Darwin said with all the confidence he could muster, sweat rolling down his face even though air-conditioning machines worked tirelessly to cool him.

  “You didn’t even start to pump gas yet.”

  “Oh, right. Going to do that now,” Darwin said and pulled on the bag.

  He felt resistance again.

  “Next time, pump first,” the clerk said. “Don’t park at the pumps to come in and shop.”

  The clerk let go of the bag. Darwin pulled it in close.

  “Right, okay, sorry about that.” What’s the difference if I pump first and then buy the sandwiches? It’ll still sit at the pump the same amount of time, before I shop or after. Being an asshole for asshole sakes is just fucked, buddy.

  Darwin walked back out the door and headed to the blue car, Rosina right beside him.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “We get in and drive away if there are keys in it.”

  “And if there aren’t?”

&nb
sp; “No idea.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  She walked to the passenger side and got in the car. He tossed the bag inside the front seat and grabbed the pump, dislodged the latch and went to open the hole, but the gas cap had a lock on it.