by M. T. Miller
“Somewhat,” the Nameless said.
“Somewhat or completely, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “You should understand that you and me aren’t that different. I, for one, see it. You are lonely. So am I. On a distinct, emotional level.” She downed her drink, almost slamming the glass against the table. “I like you, Horace. And I can tell that you like me. Why not relax? Why not let go? Why dwell on it, and not just enjoy?”
“After all…” She lowered her gaze, staring into her empty glass. “Nothing lasts forever. What we have today might well be gone tomorrow.”
The Nameless stared at her. Unlike what she’d said before, he understood every word of this.
“You are right,” he said as he downed his own drink. His eyes briefly turned to the moon, then back toward Lydia’s illuminated figure. Her blond-dyed hair appeared almost silvery.
“That’s all?” Lydia said as she raised her smiling face. “I had at least expected a kiss!”
Do I even know how to do that? the Nameless wondered. Regardless, there was no harm in trying. On guard, he let himself slide over the table as Lydia did the same. One breath at a time, they came closer, slowing down at barely an inch away. Their lips touched, and the background music faded. Along with everything else.
“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” Lydia said when they pulled away, an indeterminable amount of time later.
“Good enough that I want more,” the Nameless said with a smile.
“Then…” Lydia drifted toward him once again. “How about a change of scenery? Somewhere away from prying eyes?”
“That does not describe your place,” the Nameless said.
“Then how about yours?” she said. “You’re not hiding a body in there, are you?”
“Well, Lydia,” the Nameless said, preparing to rise, “I reckon you will find out soon.”
***
Barely a second had passed since the pair had entered the Nameless’ home, and Lydia was already on him. Her lean yet shapely body pressed against his, and she exuded an aura of sweets and alcohol.
“Messy, aren’t we, Mr. Bones?” she said, her lips dancing with each word. “I’d like to see just how messy you can get.”
“You have no idea,” the Nameless said, his hands wrapped around her waist.
“Oh, I’m getting some ideas right now,” Lydia said as she came up to his ear. The warmth of her breath was intoxicating. “I’m getting a whole lot of ideas.”
His blood boiling, the Nameless took her by the neck. He allowed their eyes to meet, a split second before pressing their lips together.
She tasted better than anything he’d ever had.
***
Unexpectedly calm, the Nameless awoke from his slumber.
He rolled to his side, intending to sleep some more. However, the presence of a foreign body in his bed woke him up completely.
What the…?
He opened his eyes, seeing nothing at all. At the same time, his hand slid under the pillow. The revolver was missing.
The light!
Careful not to make too much noise, he reached for the other side, fumbling for the light switch. A moment later, the contraption flashed, and the entire room basked in its light.
“Horace,” Lydia purred as she slowly turned to face him. Her hair was messy, and she had no make-up on, yet she was just as beautiful as ever. “Please warn me when you’re about to do that, baby…”
Of course. The Nameless took a deep breath, remembering what they had done last night. In a second, his scowl turned into a smile. “Apologies, Lydia. I am not used to having someone here.”
“Sure didn’t seem that way last night,” she said as she opened her dark eyes.
“It was good, wasn’t it?” he said.
“It was amazing.” She smiled, slowly lifting herself into a sitting position. The blanket dropped, and the Nameless remembered she was nude. “Well, big guy, gotta get to work.”
“Yes… that,” the Nameless said.
“Exactly that,” Lydia said as she rose, showing him every little bit of herself once more. “I’ve got a replacement of sorts, but it’s about time for me to check up on everything. Can’t have patrons complaining, can I?”
“I am at a loss for words.” The Nameless put his pillow up, and braced against it.
“A step up from bad words, I guess,” she said as she slid into her underwear. It was black and silky, and fit her with just the right amount of snug. “A girl’s gotta eat. And dress. And everything else. Besides, I’m helping people. The fact that you don’t understand it doesn’t make it any less true.”
The Nameless did not reply. Instead, he enjoyed the sight.
“That’s about it,” Lydia said as she slid into her boots. She took her jacket, tossed it over one shoulder, and turned toward the bed. “Coffee at noon?”
“Of course,” the Nameless said.
“Looking forward to it,” Lydia said, well on her way toward the door. She was just about to open it, when something down by her feet caught her attention. She crouched and picked up an envelope. “You’ve got mail, Horace,” she said as she turned around and walked back to the bed.
“Thank you,” the Nameless said as he took it.
“A pleasure,” Lydia said, her lips drifting toward his own. They touched for a brief moment, before she turned away, smiling. “An appetizer for tonight.”
“I cannot wait,” the Nameless said, bright-eyed.
“Well then,” Lydia said as she went for the exit. “You have yourself a fine day, Mr. Bones.” She opened the door, but turned back before exiting. “Because tonight, you’re mine!” She left the apartment, and it seemed to have instantly become a poorer place.
To a point, she is right, the Nameless thought as he opened the letter. It did feel good, not to worry about a thing, and simply enjoy. He pulled the letter out, and straightened it so he could read.
Emergency meeting at 1800, it read. He turned it around; there was nothing else.
And things were just getting pleasant. He rose from the bed, paper in hand. He placed it on the table and went for the shower. Nothing to be done. Plenty of time to get ready.
***
The clock on the nearby wall close to 6 PM, the Nameless strode through the hallways of the third floor. He had met with Lydia twice during the afternoon, and his mood was all the better for it.
Who knows? Giving Lydia a chance might prove to be my best idea yet, he thought, door 307 right in front of him. After looking left and right, he knocked seven times.
Within a minute, the entrance opened. Standing behind it, an unmasked Divine gave him a disapproving stare.
“You’re late,” she said.
“I happen to think I have come exactly on time,” the Nameless said.
“If everyone is here before you, you’re officially late,” she insisted, moving to the side and opening the door wide.
“If you say so,” he said as he stepped inside. “I take it yours is the duty of door-watching?”
“If it were, I’d quit,” she said on the way to the meeting room. “It’s just my turn.”
“Kind of you to relieve me of seeing the Grin earlier than I have to,” the Nameless said as he did the same.
“She’s not relieving you,” the Grin said at the first sight of him. “She’s relieving me.”
“Of seeing yourself?” The Nameless said as he sat in a chair.
“Alright, enough of that!” the sheriff said before the Grin had a chance to quip back. “I don’t have much time, so I’ll make this brief. Is everyone ready to listen, as opposed to speak?”
The entire Crew nodded.
“Amazing,” he said as he pulled a bunch of photographs from his inner pocket, and placed them on the table. “We’ve got some info that our late buddy Zhang wasn’t the only one with narcotic ambitions. Apparently, the Russians intend to take over now that he’s out of the game.”
Everyone took a picture, so the Nameless did the sa
me. In exquisite detail, it showed one of the innumerable manufacture buildings down in the slums.
“This operation will be a search-rescue-eliminate,” the sheriff continued. “We expect them to have some noncombatants, mostly people forced into working there. You are to try and minimize their casualties, if at all possible. If not, what can you do? Better them than you, right?”
“No fire support on this one, right?” the Grin asked.
“Smart boy,” the sheriff said. “This is an enclosed space, and speed will be a major factor. I’ll need all five of you down there. Don’t worry about hunting down stragglers; this is about shutting down their operation and sending a message. If anybody makes it back to the boss, he’ll have a hell of a story to tell.”
“And we still don’t know who’s organizing these Russians?” Eagle asked.
“Not at all,” the sheriff said. “He’s been quite effective at staying hidden. Maybe this’ll help change his mind.”
“Or steel his resolve,” Uncle said. When everyone’s eyes turned toward him, he elaborated. “These Russians are an effed-up sort. You expect them to react like normal people, they do the exact opposite.”
“So you are against this operation?” the sheriff asked.
“Not in the slightest,” Uncle said as he leaned back against his chair. “Just telling you what you can expect.”
“Noted and appreciated,” the sheriff said. “Any questions?”
“When will this be taking place?” the Nameless asked.
“Earlier than any of us will be comfortable with,” the sheriff said. “I want you all prepped and ready at this very place and time, tomorrow.”
“Good to know you’ve got it all planned out,” the Grin said.
“As far as you know,” the sheriff said, “I do.”
“Right,” the Grin said, zipping his lip.
“Any more questions?” No one said a thing. The sheriff slowly rose.
“Fine,” he continued as he gestured to the door. “You may leave, starting with the earliest arrival.”
Eagle left the room first, followed by Uncle. Divine and the Grin left next, but when the Nameless was about to do the same, the sheriff spoke.
“How’s the good life been treating you, Bones?”
“Incomparably better than the one I had before,” the Nameless said as he turned back from the hallway.
“You’re welcome,” the sheriff said, lighting up a cigar. As he did, he moved toward the exit himself. “I’ll walk with you part of the way. There’s something I want you to hear.”
“Of course,” the Nameless said as they both left the apartment.
“No need for me to say how impressed I am with the Zhang job,” the sheriff said as he locked the door. “I think you can tell.”
“To be frank,” the Nameless said, “so was I.”
“Yeah, I bet you were,” the sheriff said as they started walking. “I’m not gonna ask what you did. That’s your thing and I respect it. I want to know something else.”
“And what might that be?”
“Whether or not you can work with this team,” the sheriff said.
“I do not see a problem,” the Nameless said. Is he testing me? Does he know about the Grin’s plan?
“Neither did I,” the sheriff said, “until I double checked what you did to those Chinamen. Then I started questioning your state of mind. See what I’m getting at?”
“Sheriff, I assure you,” the Nameless said, “I do not plan on entering that state of mind ever again.”
“I certainly hope so,” the sheriff said. “Because I don’t want to lose any Crew members to friendly fire.”
“Understood.”
“And I hope you’ll take it to heart,” the sheriff said as he pointed to a branching hallway. “This is my detour. Enjoy the rest of your day, Bones.”
“You too,” said the Nameless.
So, it is as early as tomorrow. As he walked on home, he grasped Khalid’s vial in his pocket. He wanted to look forward to the upcoming job. It would keep him satiated, and he would not need to hunt for a few more days. The money was also more than welcome.
Why am I less than thrilled, then? He stopped moving. The vial still in his hand, he pulled it out and took a good look. This is the reason, he realized. The backstabbing game that Divine and the Grin had forced him to play. Once this scheme failed, what would the poisoner do? And how will I deal with it when that time comes?
But that was not the only thing. The Nameless had gone into battle many times before, often facing worse odds. And he had never flinched. This time, however, something was giving him pause.
Was it fear? He had fought tooth and nail to get where he was. Compared to the life he’d had on the lower floors, this one was heavenly. He now had something to lose. It stood to reason that he’d worry about losing it.
No.
It is Lydia, he realized as he slowly put the vial back. A recent addition to his life, but the woman nevertheless made his existence something more than an eternal struggle. The idea of something keeping him away from her was thoroughly unappealing.
And I barely even know her yet, he thought as he turned around and started walking toward her establishment.
Time to bite the bullet.
Chapter Twenty-six
After hesitating for a moment, the Nameless forced himself to knock on her door. It took several minutes for it to open, and when it did, it was not Lydia that he saw.
“Can I help you?” the black-clad woman said in a strange voice.
She is taller than me, he thought as he tried to make sense of what he was looking at. The corset and dress did not expose a hint of flesh, leaving the face as her only real feature. Framed by long black hair, the face was painted completely black-and-white.
Is that…?
“Pretty, I know,” she said. “But I don’t swing that way.”
Instead of words, the Nameless replied with a punch to the face. Unable to regain balance on those heels, the woman fell backward like a felled tree.
“Just what is going on—Horace?” Lydia shouted from the other end of the room. A leather-clad gentleman lay strapped to a bed next to her, his back bare.
“Contrast!” The Nameless ran inside, kicking the disguised gang leader right between the legs. The skirt made it difficult to aim, but it seemed to do the trick. “Last place I expected to find you!”
Contrast’s eyes rolled backward as he convulsed on the floor.
“Just what are you doing?” Lydia ran toward the door, whip in hand.
“No clean breaks for you!” The Nameless turned Contrast on his back, preventing him from coiling into a fetal position. He sat on Contrast’s stomach, adding to the corset’s pressure. “No bullets! No blades!” He punched him in the face again, with Lydia just a few feet away. “You, I beat to death! Bit by bloody bit!”
“Horace!” Lydia shouted as loud as she could.
The Nameless did not respond. Instead, he delivered another hit, sending Contrast’s head slamming against the floor. “How does it feel?” he shouted. “How do you like it when you’re on the receiving end?”
Contrast did not say a word. He was out like a candle.
Dropping her whip, Lydia covered her mouth with both hands. As she did, the few patrons whose eyes were not covered started voicing their muffled protests.
“Alright, Bones,” a guard said from outside, his rifle clicking. “You’ve had your fun, I see. Time to chill.” Several other guns followed in the sound.
The Nameless’ hand twitched. His vision bloody, he observed the unconscious, monochrome figure before him. The fact that it was not red bothered him to no end.
“Bones,” the guard spoke again. “I won’t ask a second time.”
Very slowly, the Nameless lifted his gaze. Even though she was scared out of her wits, Lydia remained as beautiful as ever. Yet the way she looked at him was not the same.
I was wrong, he thought as he rose. I have questioned
your integrity, when in turn I should have questioned my own. He turned to the guards, both hands raised.
“This man has wronged me,” he said. “And I assure you, appearances aside, it is a man.”
“And I have orders to arrest troublemakers,” the guard said. “Guess which one takes priority?”
“So, what happens now?” the Nameless asked.
“Now we take you down to the precinct,” the guard said. “What happens after that is anyone’s guess.”
“Splendid,” the Nameless said as he slowly stepped through the open door. “Lead the way. I will not make any more trouble.”
***
“What’s this?” The sheriff held the vial in front of the Nameless.
They were in the room where they had first met, albeit no one was cuffed this time around.
“A vial,” the Nameless said.
“And here I thought it was a flower,” the sheriff said. “Now tell me what it does when you smell it.”
“Not a whole lot,” the Nameless said. “But it happens to be vital for the upcoming operation.”
“Really?” The sheriff snuck another look at it. “In what way?”
The Nameless lowered his eyes. He could not tell him about the Grin, because then Eagle would know that his trust had been betrayed. On the other hand, he needed the contents of the vial. What do I say?
“Not gonna sing, huh?” the sheriff said. “Fine. Instrumental, it is!” With force unbecoming of an old man, he slammed the vial against the nearby wall. Shattered into pieces, it sprayed its bubbling contents across the side of the room.
“No!” the Nameless said, rising from his seat.
“I’ve had it up to here with your shit!” The sheriff touched his hat. “Always trying to sneak something from right under me; every fucking time keeping something up your sleeve. This ends now, Bones! You tell me what that was, or I swear to God, I won’t let you leave this place!”
“That was…” The Nameless pronounced the words slowly. “It was something for my nerves. As you can see, I am easily agitated.” He pointed at the bubbling, transparent liquid. “I had hoped it would help me keep myself in check during the next operation. As per your request.”
