“No, no, dear boy. Thank you.”
***
Elise Garritano twisted and fought against the plastic binders holding her wrists together. This night had surpassed all her wildest dreams of what Hell must be like. She had long ago abandoned the hope that this was a dream, a mistake or some bizarre gag played on her. Outside of the filthy, semi-dark room she occupied with the rest of the captive girls, she heard curses and shouted orders. They were on a boat, she knew that much.
Elise twisted around to look at the rest of the girls. They were a huddled, whimpering mass that made an unspoken, collective decision to surrender to their fate and that made her mad. Elise had a lot more to lose than the rest of them. She was looking at certain death in a few hours.
“Hey! HEY!”
The others looked at her. Covered in muck and dirt. Eyes as wide as they could get.
“Listen to me. We gotta get these things off and get outta here!”
One girl, thin as a foal, trembling, as if seized with the ague, whimpered, “they’ll kill us if we try to get away. Maybe if we do what they say—“
Elise hissed in a voice raw with anger, “We’ve got to get away! What if they decide to kill us all? They could take us out on the river and dump us out there somewhere! Do you wanta die? I don’t! Now c’mon! Somebody crawl over here and help me get these things off!”
***
Regency drove from Zuleika’s to Downtown Denbrook. He’d checked his voicemail on his smartphone and found an urgent message for Lowell O’Neal. He had some time to kill anyway while waiting for Zuleika to come through so he decided to attend to this bit of business.
He parked on Carson Parkway and swiftly walked to the Sandstone Café. An elegant, two story structure; the first floor was the dining area and bar which was usually packed with downtown workers during the week and jazz aficionados on the weekends that came to listen to The Dwayne Broadnax Trio. The second floor boasted a balcony that overlooked the street and private dining rooms for large parties or those who wanted privacy. Regency entered the smoky café, nodding here and there at familiar faces, looking for Lowell’s agent.
George Alexander waved from the bar. A slim, waspish man with a thin intense face, George looked Regency up and down and said in a dismal voice full of infinite doom; “Tell me that it’s you, Lowell. You’re just dressed like Regency to impress some chick.”
In answer, Regency held up a finger to the bartender. “Tequila.” He fished out a pack of menthol Morleys. He shook one out the pack and lit it up.
George sighed. Lowell O’Neal didn’t smoke and he didn’t drink Tequila. “Look, I’ve got to speak with Lowell about a meeting we’ve got with the Netflix people on Friday, so could you please do whatever head trip you gotta do and bring Lowell out so I can talk business with him?”
Regency downed his shot of tequila in one gulp and motioned for another. “I’m working now, George. I understand your concern but you cannot talk to Lowell until I’m done. You know the rules.”
George groaned softly and turned back to his frosty glass of Coors. Although he made good money from the novelized adventures of his client’s alter ego, he didn’t particularly like Regency all that much. “Y’know, you and Lowell might want to go get some help with this duality problem you seem to have.”
Regency shrugged, not really caring a poobah’s pizzle what George thought. “The only one who has a problem is you, George. Try not to worry so much. Lowell will make your meeting. Trust him and trust me.”
Regency’s phone vibrated and he took it out, unlocked it with a swipe of his thumb. “Go.”
“It’s your new best friend,” Zuleika said.
“Tell me something good.”
“Kenny French has the girls at a private estate located at the north shore. Kenny’s got the girls on a yacht and he’s taking them out tonight, across Lake Erie into Canada.”
“I owe you big time for this.”
“Don’t say that. I haven’t told you who owns the estate and the yacht. Both belong to McGrath Wynne. You do know who he is, don’t you?”
“I know. A member of The Society of Seven. It was just a matter of time before we bumped heads.”
“You sure you want to mix it with them?”
“Got no choice. The Garritano girl is under my protection now.”
“Well, if they catch you, do be a dear and forget who gave you the information? There’s a love.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Regency answered. He cut off the connection and put the phone away. “I got to go, George. Lowell will call you in the morning.”
Before George could do more than mount a token growl of protest, Regency was already leaving The Sandstone and walking back to his car, thinking about his next move. Wynne would be sure to have plenty of hired muscle at the estate and by now, Kenny French would have informed him that Regency was hunting for the girls. What in the hell would an international player like McGrath Wynne want with a bunch of high-school girls when he could have girls from anywhere in the world?
Regency had heard stories about The Society of Seven for years. Seven of the world’s richest and most powerful men and women, they spent their time globe hopping, playing elaborate ‘games’ they made up to test and challenge each other’s resources and skills. And there were other, darker rumors about The Society of Seven. Rumors of demon worship, genetic experimentation, cybernetic augmentation. They were all quite a package if even half the stories were true.
Regency reached his car, unlocked the driver’s side door and climbed in. He sat behind the steering wheel for a minute, drumming gloved fingers on the wheel. He dialed a number on his phone. It was answered on the third ring.
“Yes?”
“Good morning, Lori.”
“I’ve been expecting you to call. This is about the Garritano girl.”
“I need backup. Can you help me out?”
“That’s why I’m still up. Where do you want me to meet you?”
“I have to brief you and your girls on the situation first. And I need to steal a boat. Meet me at The Union Bridge Park Marina as soon as you can.”
“I’ll roust my girls out of bed and be right down. Nice to hear from you again.”
“Same here.”
“Is this going to be bloody?”
“It always is.”
***
Elise Garritano led her small, frightened band up the creaking steps that hopefully led to their freedom. It had taken her almost an hour to convince them to undo their bonds and make this escape attempt.
Elise peered out the hatchway. She saw nothing except for an empty deck illuminated by the bright halogen lights. She turned around, brushing her long hair out of her face as she whispered urgently to the others; “I don’t see any guards. When you hit the hatch, run and don’t stop for anything. I don’t care what you hear or what they say. If just one of us can get out, they can bring the cops back to help anybody that might get captured.”
“You said that we wouldn’t get caught!” a plump girl named Babs wailed. Her body shook so hard, Elise was afraid that she might have a heart attack right there on the spot.
“Listen to me! They can’t catch all of us and if you do what I say, I’m positive that you’ll make it! Now let’s GO!”
The girls ran out of the hatchway, screaming and waving their arms in as much fear as distraction. Elise was amazed as Babs ran with the speed of an alley cat, despite her baby fat, arms pumping like mad. The other girls were not far behind her. Men appeared seemingly out of nowhere, shouting for the girls to stop their flight. Elise had to give the girls credit. They were so fast they were out of sight in seconds. The yacht’s crew gave hearty pursuit.
Elise, her heart swelling with gratitude that she had helped the other girls escape, started to make her move. She screamed as a large hand clamped down on her shoulder. She was lifted bodily and dangled in the air as the man who held her stepped out of the hatchway and onto the deck.
>
The man who held her was easily well over six feet in height and powerfully muscled under the impeccably tailored Pino Salicci double-breasted silk suit. He smiled with an amazingly white set of perfect, even teeth. His rather large, square head boasted a full head of white hair that looked too good to be natural.
“So what have we here? A rebel with a cause? A teenaged Spartacus?” The man seemed to be having a pretty good time. Kenny French appeared by his side.
“Ah, Kenny. I was just wondering where you were. How did the young ladies get out of the storeroom they were locked in?”
“They managed to unscrew the grating on the lower half of the door.” Kenny French’s voice carried a twinge of admiration. “Then they musta got one of the really skinny, smaller girls to squeeze through and unlock the door from the other side. She woulda left some skin behind, but that’s how they did it.”
“I see. Which one is this?”
“That’s the Garritano girl. That’s the one Regency is lookin’ for. My people tell me he’s been asking all over where I can be found.”
“And do you think it likely he knows where you are now?” Wynne McGrath held the struggling Elise at arm’s length. She bit and scratched like a bobcat, but McGrath’s arm seemingly was impervious as an iron beam.
“If he’s as good as his rep, I’d haveta say yeah…he’s most likely on his way here.”
“And you really think this Regency will risk incurring disfavor with The Society of Seven over this?” McGrath gave Elise a hearty shake that made her teeth clack together painfully.
“He’s not the type to give up. I say we leave the girl right here and pull out.”
“But you’re not in charge here, Kenny. Take her and tie her someplace on the yacht where she can be seen clearly.”
“Didn’t you hear me? Regency’s coming for her!”
“I heard you, Kenny. I heard you.”
***
The Union Bridge Park actually wasn’t located at Union Bridge Park. It actually was located four miles up the Hopkins River. And the marina had seen better days since Denbrook wasn’t exactly known for attracting boaters. Even in summer, the waters of the Hopkins River were just too frigid and choppy and the currents too tricky. Still, there were a number of boats docked at the Marina, many of them used for illegal activities, as Regency well knew.
Regency picked out a lean, wicked looking red and white cigarette boat with Twin 500 HP Mercruisers and within minutes had it started. He had a feeling he’d do better trying to reach McGrath’s mansion by water. He wondered impatiently where Lori and her girls were as he lit up another cigarette.
“I keep telling you those things’ll kill you.” Regency turned to see Lori Higgins sitting in the back of the boat, a 9mm Ruger P94 pointed at his head.
“I wish you would stop doing that.”
“Well, now you know how it feels when you do it to other people,” Lori replied without sympathy as she holstered her weapon. “So what’s the dilly-o?”
Regency summed up the situation quite accurately for the young woman, who looked nothing like the highly proficient professional warrior she was. Along with the 9mm, she also had a powerful crossbow slung on her back with a small quiver of steel-tipped arrows.
When Regency had finished, she jerked her head at an idling Lincoln Navigator. “My girls are ready. What do you want us to do?”
“Make your way to the estate and give me one hell of a distraction in exactly one hour. I should be in position by then, but if not, just go ahead and start the party. And Lori, I just want a distraction, not World War III. The primary objective is to get the Garritano girl, and any others McGrath may be holding captive, free, okay?”
Lori shrugged. “You know McGrath’s not going to let this end here. After tonight he’s going to be after you.”
“And you as well.”
“Unlike you, I intend to put a bullet in his brain the second I lay eyes on him.”
***
Wynne McGrath stood on the foredeck of the yacht, watching Elise Garritano struggle against her bonds uselessly. He was smoking a thick cigar and looking inland, toward the mansion and waiting patiently for Regency to arrive. Kenny French was standing at his side and, quite frankly, Kenny French was being an annoyance right about now.
“Mr. McGrath, I’d just as soon you paid me now and I’ll go on about my business.”
“Pay you?” McGrath’s left eyebrow raised and the corners of his mouth turned downward ever so slightly in displeasure. “Kenny, do you honestly think you deserve to be paid after you’ve screwed up this operation so badly?”
“Hey, you wanted girls, you got girls.”
“But the specifications were simple: they were to be homeless girls living on the street, that wouldn’t be missed. Who told you to take Catherine Garritano’s sister?”
“Mr. McGrath, I didn’t know who she was at the time. You wanted girls in a hurry and I told you that it wasn’t that easy to just grab girls off the street. I had to make compromises.”
“You mean you decided to get sloppy. And now you’ve placed my name in jeopardy and attracted the attention of this man Regency, who by all accounts is quite a formidable player in his own right.”
“Y’know, Mr. McGrath, I’m really tired of having to listen to your bullshit, and I really suggest you pay me what you owe me and do it right now.” Kenny’s right hand crept around to where he had his Beretta tucked in the small of his back.
McGrath turned and looked at Kenny French thoughtfully. “You’re absolutely right, Kenny. It’s high time I paid you off.”
McGrath’s hands were a blur. One hand came up and around to cup the back of Kenny’s head while the other drove the burning end of the cigar straight into his right eye, which burst like a stepped on grape. Wynne drove the cigar deeper and deeper into Kenny’s head. The smell was truly nauseating, but Wynne McGrath merely chuckled as he twisted the cigar viciously.
The gun fell from Kenny’s wildly jerking hand and McGrath whispered in the dying man’s ear, “Nothing like a good smoke; eh, Kenny?” He let go of the body and let it lie there on the deck as the last few spasms of life ran their course.
The mansion exploded in a tremendous gout of flame that seemed to crack it in half. McGrath was thrown to the deck by the force of the explosion. He lay there, his mouth open in shock and horror as he watched the mansion that had been in his family since 1828 collapse into flaming rubble right in front of him.
As he shakily got to his feet, he could hear Elise Garritano’s cackling giggle of triumph, the curses and shouted questions of his men and the sharp, staccato sounds of gunfire. Already, dark, choking smoke cut off his vision of what was happening onshore. Another explosion rocked the mansion and it collapsed inward on itself with an agonized groan of shattered masonry. McGrath reflected that perhaps it was time to cut his losses and get out of New York for a time and regroup. But first, he’d deal with the Garritano girl and leave her in pieces for Regency.
He turned and blinked in surprise upon seeing a tall man dressed all in black untying the Garritano girl. The man looked up and fixed McGrath with his dark tombstone gaze.
“Regency, I presume.”
Regency nodded slightly. “And you would be Wynne McGrath.”
McGrath stepped back over the body of Kenny French. “If you know me then you know what organization I’m a part of. I can’t honestly believe you’d want to war with us.”
“You think I blew up your house for fun? That is just the beginning. Here’s the rest of my message.” Regency rushed upon McGrath like a hot black wind from Hell’s main furnace.
McGrath slipped the first couple of straight punches that Regency sent his way and came back with several impressive strikes of his own.
Regency blocked, his arms moving with an unnerving speed and precision. Regency got in close and blasted four punishing blows to McGrath’s midsection.
McGrath grunted as he doubled over. Regency’s right hand came up an
d around, in a short arcing loop that ended on McGrath’s jaw, which broke with a frighteningly loud sound, as if it were brittle.
Regency’s gloves had solid metal discs woven into the fabric over each knuckle, in effect giving him a set of brass knuckles on each hand and giving his already powerful punches even more devastating force.
McGrath slumped to his knees. Regency grabbed him by his three thousand dollar suit and yanked him back to his feet. He held him close while he whispered in his raspy, dark voice; “The only reason you are still alive is because I want you to take a message back the rest of those spoiled sick freaks you run with: play your games all you want but you don’t play them in Denbrook anymore. You stay out of my town. You want a war with me? Bring it on. I’ll give you a war so vicious it will be remembered for generations to come as Vietnam Part II.”
Regency let Wynne drop and turned away, walked back to where Elise stood with Lori Higgins. Lori had her gun trained on McGrath.
“You want I should kill him?”
Regency looked at McGrath, who looked back with his mouth swollen shut and soul-searing rage in his eyes.
“No. We have a little girl who needs to get home and take her medicine.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“I said no, Lori.” Regency looked down at Elise and allowed his anger to drain away. “Hi. You ready to go home?”
Elise nodded. “You’re scary,” she said in a small voice. “How’d you learn to be so scary?”
Lori laughed and answered that one; “Practice, honey. Lots and lots of practice.”
“Can you teach me how to be scary like you so that people like him…” Elise pointed at Wynne. “…can’t hurt me?”
Regency picked Elise Garritano up in his arms and said; “I can do better than that. I can take you to a place that can teach you how to take care of yourself so that men like him will respect you. Would you like that?”
“I’d rather make them scared of me.”
Lori howled with laughter as Regency smiled and said, “Well, in any case, we will have to talk to your sister about that. Let’s go see her so you can get your shot, okay?”
Black Power- The Superhero Anthology Page 31
