by Saul, Jonas
“What, the weapons are in your mouth?”
He shook his head. He pointed at his mouth again and used his hand to illustrate talking.
“Oh, you want permission to talk?”
Darwin nodded.
“Talk then. What the fuck?”
“A moment ago you said no talking whatsoever.”
“I did? Fuck that. What you wanna say?”
“I have no weapons,” he said, his voice cracking. Even though he’d only had the egg salad sandwich, he felt like throwing up.
At least I’m already near a toilet.
He snuck a peek at Rosina. Her face was pale and rock still, but behind her eyes, he could tell she was thinking.
“Bullshit you have no weapons. And stop looking at her. I know how married couples talk with their eyes. Now, one more time, pull out your fucking knives.”
The cop’s breath smelled of cigarettes in the confined bathroom. The guy reeked of tobacco and whiskey. That alone made Darwin want to throw up.
“I’m serious. I. Do. Not. Have. Any. Weapons.”
“Fuck you. There’s no way I’m believin’ that shit. They don’t call you The Blade for nothing. I heard what you can do. Breaking people’s neck with your bare hands, knifing people in the face. Jamming pens in people’s necks. You’re a legend, Darwin. You singlehandedly killed the Harvester of Sorrow. There’s not many men who could do that, and when one steps up and does, we all know what you’re made of. Now, dump the weapons or I shoot you. It’s that simple.”
“I got lucky with Sorrow.”
“Tell that to Fuccini. Oh wait, you can’t, you killed him too.” He cleared his throat. “Stop wasting my time and dump the weapons.”
Darwin patted his waist and did a half circle to show he concealed nothing.
“The look on your face says you’re not bluffing,” the cop said, smiling. “I can’t believe this. The Blade doesn’t have a knife on him. Must be my lucky day.” He backed up and grabbed the chair Rosina had sat on ten minutes before. “Come out of the bathroom.”
The cop walked the chair to the broken front door and sat on it backwards, resting his gun and arm on the back.
“Sit on the bed closest to the bathroom.”
They did as they were told.
“Now, Darwin, since you’re the one I’m most worried about, take off your clothes.”
“What—”
“You fucking heard me,” he shouted, his voice booming like he had a bullhorn attached to it. “Do it now or I’ll shoot holes in you.”
Darwin lifted his large T-shirt over his head and let it fall behind him. He undid his shorts and stood to let them fall at his ankles. With both hands out at his sides, he did a half turn to reveal no hidden weapons.
“Those too. I’m not gay, but I gotta look.”
Darwin glanced at Rosina and then dropped his boxers.
“Okay. Get dressed,” the cop said.
Darwin lifted the boxers and shorts, setting them back in place. He grabbed his T-shirt and dropped it over his head.
“Your turn,” the cop said, gesturing with the end of the gun at Rosina.
“Now wait a minute,” Darwin said.
The cop jumped from the chair and rushed Darwin. He jammed the shotgun up under Darwin’s chin and shoved him onto the bed, physically restraining him.
“Little honey,” the cop said to Rosina. “Undress right now and show me all your pretty parts or your husband loses his fucking head. Just so we’re clear, I’d prefer you leave your clothes on. That way I can kill your husband and then I get to be the one to take your clothes off.” He looked down at Darwin’s face. “Sorry, no offense, but I don’t like anyone watching me rape a girl.”
“It’s okay, Darwin,” Rosina said. “I’ll do it.”
The barrel made it hard for Darwin to swallow. Breathing was almost impossible with the extra weight of the asshole on him. He worried that any move would make the guy fire the weapon and splatter his brains against the headboard.
His anger boiled up. He nudged an arm for position. The shotgun pressed against him harder, jamming his tongue to the top of his mouth. Everything in his being screamed to roll the guy off and break every bone in his body. But he wanted to live, and the drunk on top of him had the gun in a position that made it almost impossible for him to move without being shot.
Not yet. Not now. I’ll find an opening. Wait … stay calm.
Rosina had removed the purple top and unclasped her bra. She slid her black pants down and without pause, lowered her white panties.
With his wife humiliated, standing absolutely naked in front of the cop, it made him want to tear the guy in half. But Rosina had asked him to not kill any more cops.
The guy’s breath stank like a dead raccoon had curled up in his mouth. If he didn’t get off soon, Darwin would have to shove him off or die from the fumes.
The cop kept his attention riveted on Rosina’s body. “A very nice, cute little body. Nice tits.” He looked back at Darwin, his face three inches away. “You are one lucky sonofabitch.”
Then he pushed hard and got back to his feet. Darwin took in a long, deep breath and waited to see if the guy would touch his naked wife.
“Okay, fun’s over. Get dressed. I’ll play with your pussy later. We have to move.” He shook his head and laughed. “I cannot get over the luck. I picked up The Blade and he isn’t armed.” The cop looked at Darwin on the bed. “I actually thought I was going to have to shoot you in this fleabag, fuck motel. Look at you. You’re nothing. How the hell did you take out the Fuccini Family?”
Darwin didn’t answer him. He got up and helped Rosina get dressed. What surprised him was her strength. Not a single tear escaped her during the whole ordeal.
“Now, let’s move. There’s someone I want you to meet before you die. The man you’re going to meet happens to live thirty minutes from here. He’s got a seriously great idea. He came up with a way to kill you with no one ever finding out how. And no one will find your body. Cool, huh?”
Yeah, sure. Brilliant. Can’t wait.
Chapter 4
Carson felt his wheels were spinning and he was getting nowhere. Most of the files on the Kostas had been sealed. Only a few people knew what really happened to them and the Fuccinis all those months ago. One of them was a biker named Richard H. He now spent his days in a safe house, but no one was letting Carson in on where that was located.
The only other person with any knowledge on Darwin was Greg Stinsen, who had worked with the men that were murdered at the safe house. Since there was hardly anything in the files and no one was talking to Carson, he’d decided to wait for Greg to show up in Jacksonville. Greg was due on a private jet from Washington that evening.
Carson would be waiting for him, and Greg would tell him everything he knew whether he wanted to or not. Greg would help in the investigation no matter how much he liked the Kostas kid, because they were on the same team and they were hunting a killer. Once a man kills a federal agent, as Darwin had done, no one was safe.
Carson looked at his watch. He still had two hours until Greg touched down in Jacksonville.
He rustled up the files on his desk, placed them neatly off to one corner and stood, pushing his chair away with the backs of his knees. As the afternoon turned to evening, the Jacksonville Bureau office was still quite busy and would be until they apprehended Darwin Kostas. That many agents killed in a single event kept the office jumping.
He stepped away from his desk, walked out the main doors and headed for his car. When he got in and turned it on, he realized just how angry he was. Five federal agents, beaten and killed. By one man. And no one will talk about Darwin because his file is sealed.
“What the fuck is wrong with the world?”
His cell phone startled him.
“Hello,” he snapped.
“Just thought you should know,” Rudy said.
“What?”
“A motel north of that Mobil gas station
that Darwin hit has been shot up pretty bad. The clerk said he was asleep. He woke up when the shotgun went off.”
“Shotgun?”
“Yeah, apparently he had one room rented to a couple who paid cash. A couple he just saw on the news. Three rooms got hit. The motel clerk called in and said it was like the shooter had randomly shot into motel rooms. This guy sounds really fucked.”
“How come this is the first I’m hearing about this?”
“Local authorities took the call and are responding. I have all our guys out looking for that pickup truck. We thought Darwin was long gone. Who would have guessed he grabbed a room a few miles from the gas station?”
“What’s the name of the place?”
“The Sleep On Inn.”
“I know the one.”
Carson tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and squealed his tires as he drove away from the federal building.
“I got you, Darwin, you sick fuck.”
He leaned across the seats and opened the glove box. After another glance out the windshield, he reached in and retrieved his unregistered gun. A Taurus PT145. Made in Brazil, his came with a blued finish, a ten-round magazine and a double-action trigger. A wonderful killing machine, it weighed just over twenty-two ounces. The serial number had been shaved off. The gun had disappeared from the evidence room two years ago.
Carson smiled to himself as he eased the Taurus into its holster.
“I have a surprise for you, Darwin,” he said out loud. “There will not be a courtroom, no jail cell where you’d serve your time. That’s for the crooks, the rapists, and all the rest of the bad guys. No, for you Darwin, there’s only one way to deal with a killer.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “You will die by my hand, you worthless piece of fuck. You will bleed and I will be your judge and jury, and when I’m done, I will shoot your fucking wife in the face. How do you like that?”
Carson turned his siren on and added weight to his foot.
Chapter 5
The cop had ordered them into the back of his unmarked cruiser. Even if Darwin wanted to escape, there was no way he could. The doors locked on the outside and the Plexiglas between them and the driver was seriously thick.
All they could do was wait. The cop had continued talking about shit Darwin had done and how he couldn’t believe it all. He also talked about all the fun they were going to have.
The sun had dropped far enough to be lost behind low-level clouds.
Darwin held Rosina’s hand as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. The cop wasn’t offering idle threats. The people he worked for were serious about killing them because he hadn’t used a blindfold. Darwin could see where they were going and could later offer directions to the police.
Rosina turned to him. “I saw his badge but I don’t think he’s taking us to a police station.”
“I know. I think this cop has other plans.”
“What are you talking about back there?” the cop asked. “No talking.”
“Stop the car,” Darwin said.
“Fuck you.”
“You don’t want us to talk, so pull over and make us stop talking. Otherwise, mind your own fucking business.”
Darwin had no idea where he came up with some of the things he said. Prior to the accident where he killed Vincenzo Fuccini with his car, he’d only been in one fight in high school. The other guy won. He never wanted to hurt anybody. But when he felt threatened, he seemed to have no control. Especially if he was threatened by something sharp, like a knife.
Now, they had nothing to lose. If the driver really wanted to get him to stop talking to his wife, then he would have to get out of his driver’s seat and do something about it. If the cop was sent to kill them, then he would’ve already done it.
“Just keep quiet. I don’t want to hear your bullshit,” the cop said.
“Rosina, I don’t want to worry you, but this doesn’t look good. Wherever we’re going, we are going to have to make a break for it. When we do, you run in front of me so anything they throw at us goes through me first.”
“How does that help us? If you get hurt or killed, I’m dead too. This isn’t about survival. This is about ending everything. Getting this part of our lives, this chapter complete. We have to find out who sent those two men to the safe house. Then we need to learn who employs this asshole and how it’s all connected. Then we can start to piece together who’s behind it all because we both know that it isn’t Fuccini. He’s dead. And it’s not the feds themselves.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve been thinking. They wouldn’t send two FBI agents over to the safe house to kill three other FBI agents. If it was the feds, those guys would’ve staged our deaths and it’d be all over.”
The driver applied the brakes. Darwin looked around for a marker and saw a sign for the Markville Family Funeral Home on the left side of the two-lane highway.
“I know all those answers,” the driver said as he turned right and started up what looked like a driveway, away from the funeral home.
“Then tell us. Who is behind all this?”
“In time, in time.”
Trees lined each side of the lane as it wound left and right. Darwin watched it unfold as best he could with the limited light left from the sun. He was starting to break out in a sweat, thinking about how dark it would be in the backseat of the car if the guy didn’t get them where they were going soon.
Darwin hated that he had come out of his childhood with two phobias. One was aichmophobia, a fear of sharp or pointy objects like needles or knives. Rosina knew this about him. That’s why she’d knocked the knife set off the kitchen counter back at the safe house—so Darwin would go crazy and attack the guy who was eating Darwin’s breakfast.
The other phobia was achluophobia, a fear of darkness. He hated the dark. He had to drive with the interior light on if he was out after the sun went down. When eating out at restaurants, he ate with spoons or plastic cutlery. He had his torturous stepmom to thank for all the issues he faced as an adult.
But at least those phobias kept me alive when dealing with the Fuccini Family.
The car came to a halt in front of a huge water fountain. Whoever owned the house they were visiting had to be seriously rich. The sprawling grounds were manicured and perfect with bushes and flowers lining each walkway. Everywhere he could see, there were small lights under the foliage. He thought of a landing strip.
The house stood back from the driveway. The five-car garage was larger than any house Darwin had ever lived in. Even though the sun had dropped far enough to leave only a purple hue in the sky, bright lights illuminated the front of the house, designed to enhance its beauty.
Someone has gone to a lot of trouble making sure this mansion is perfect.
The water fountain filled the windshield. A mermaid sat, leaning on a rock, water spouting from her mouth in torrents.
The driver got out of the car and disappeared around the edge of the fountain.
“What are we going to do?” Rosina asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Just make sure, whatever it is, don’t get yourself shot.”
“I won’t honey. It’ll work out.”
“You should find a way to call Richard H. I’m sure he’d help. Maybe he could send a few guys over.”
“He’s still recovering from all the bullets he received the last time he helped us. I’m supposed to be sending back a piece of his manuscript later today. I hope he doesn’t think I bailed on him.”
“Darwin, seriously, he’ll see what’s happening on the news. He’ll know we’re on the run.”
“True,” Darwin said and then thought of something else. “Maybe I could call Greg.”
“Do that. As soon as we get to a phone.”
The driver came back around the corner with men behind him. Big men, all carrying large weapons hung on straps over their shoulders. Darwin did a quick count. Eight men plus the driver.
“Holy shit, what the fuck are they expecting?” Darwin asked. “A small war?” He grabbed Rosina’s hand. “Listen, honey, I love you and I will do everything in my power to end this without either one of us getting hurt. Think on your feet and follow my lead. Do whatever you can to stay alive and don’t get hurt. I love you.”
Rosina wrapped her hand around his head and brought him closer to her, kissing him on the lips, hard and fast. “I love you, too. You’re everything I could’ve asked for.”
