Evan Arden 05 Irrevocable (14 page)

I pour the remaining batter and close the lid.  The only sound in the kitchen is the sizzling noise from the waffle iron as some of the batter leaks out the side.  When the waffle is done, I place it on a second plate and bring both to the table.

“Syrup okay?” I ask.  “I have strawberries if you like.”

“Syrup is perfect.”  Alina is quiet again.

Admittedly, I’m glad.  I probably shouldn’t be, but I am.  It’s yet another reason an actual girlfriend is problematic—she’ll get all pissed when you tell her to shut up.  Alina seems pretty good at taking a hint, and she doesn’t ask any more questions.

Once breakfast is done, I take her back to her corner and drop her off.  No “goodbyes,” no “see ya laters,” not even a “thanks for the fuck.”

I just drive away.

The temperature is a little warmer than usual, and I decide to drive over to the lake and walk along the shore.  Before Odin died, I would take him here to run around in the sand and chase seagulls.  I again wonder if I should consider getting another dog but quickly dismiss the idea.  I don’t need the added responsibility, and having anything around that I care about has always proven itself to be a risk.

Best not to have any ties.

I light a cigarette and draw the smoke into my lungs as I walk along the grassy bank near the sand.  It’s a little colder here with the wind coming off the lake.  It clears my head and brings me back to Alina and her observations.

Yeah, girlfriends are nice to have around as far as getting a decent night’s sleep and not having to go pick them up on a corner while wondering how many other guys they’ve fucked in the last twenty-four hours, but they want to know things about you.  They would want to know about your childhood, why you were discharged from the Marines, and why you have nightmares.  They’d want to ask about your family, and then they would give you that pitiful look when you’d tell them your only living family is a brother you nearly killed, and he doesn’t even know you’re related.

They would want to know what you do for a living and why you always pay for everything in cash.  They would want to know where you were last night.  They would want to know why you have blood all over your clothes when you come home.

Ultimately, they would want to know why you’re so fucked up.  In the end, that knowledge would get them killed.

Bridgett had wanted to know all of that, and I told her a lot of it.  She paid the ultimate price for getting too wrapped up in my life.  Lia wanted to know as well, and I’d told her more than I had ever told anyone else.  I still didn’t tell her all of it, but she knew enough to get the fuck out while she still could.

I wonder what she’s doing right now.  I know she returned to Arizona to be with her mother, but has she moved on from there?  Has she gone back to her ex-boyfriend, assuming an alcoholic is still better than me?  Maybe I should have Jonathan check it out.

I toss the cigarette butt into the sand and light up another.  The last thing I want to do is to think about Lia.  Looking into her current whereabouts is opening a door I plan to keep very tightly locked.

No more thinking about her.

I stare out at the water as the sun reaches its peak.  It’s still not that warm, but it’s quiet and peaceful.  The waves wash up on the shore in a rhythmic, lulling cadence.  For the first time in my life, I try using one of those guided meditations the doctors were always encouraging me to use when I had flashbacks of being in a pit, surrounded by enemies, sand, and pain.  I collect my memories of Lia, place them in an imaginary hot air balloon, and send them off over the water.

Turning away from the lake, I feel empty inside.

I think I prefer it that way.

I don’t like this plan—any of it.

We’re in the exact same pickup spot where we were two weeks ago.  Somehow, Rinaldo has it in his head that it’s a safe enough place for a drop even though I’ve used all the viable locations for sniping in the past.  Beni and Paulie keep reassuring Rinaldo the location is sound, but I’m beginning to think Beni is scheming, and Paulie is just stupid.

We’re on the far west side of town, out in the burbs.  There isn’t much of anything in the area except for a couple of trade schools, a small hospital, and an old cemetery.  The expressway isn’t too far, which does make the location ideal.

Yet there’s something in the back of my head telling me everything about this is wrong.  I had the same feeling in this morning’s meeting, but I haven’t been able to put my finger on it.

“This spot is compromised,” I say for the thousandth time.

“We’ve been over this,” Rinaldo says, as if I need the reminder.

“This is still a valid pickup point,” Beni pipes in.  “No security cameras on the buildings around us, cops don’t patrol this area, and there’s room for both trucks.”

“The only ones who know about this spot are Marcello’s people,” Paulie says.  “I don’t think there’s much chance of them showing up.”

Apparently, Paulie thinks his own remark is hilarious.  I glare at him, and for a brief second contemplate pulling out my gun to see how funny he thinks
that
is.

Rinaldo is irritable today, to say the least.  I don’t wonder why but watch him closely.  He barks out a few more orders and then sends everyone to their positions, asking me to stay behind.  Beni and Paulie walk away, seeking out Becca and her lists.  Rinaldo and I stay behind, and he places his hand on my shoulder.

“Since you haven’t mentioned it, I assume you still haven’t seen Felisa?”

“No, sir.”  I look down at my gun, pretending to check the chamber.

“I’m worried, Evan.”

“What about, sir?”

“She still hasn’t answered her phone.  I thought it was just my phone acting up, but she’s not at her apartment either.  The doorman said he hadn’t seen her since the day before yesterday.  I think…I think something has happened to her.”

“Who would go after Felisa?”  I tilt my head and look at him quizzically.  “I mean, who would have it in for the mob shrink?  That doesn’t make much sense.”

“As soon as we’re done here, I want you looking for her.  If this shipment wasn’t so crucial, I would have sent you off this morning.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Get with Jonathan.  He’s got the app you need, or whatever you call it.”

“App?”

“To track her.”

This time, my quizzical look is a genuine one.  Rinaldo uses one hand to rub at the center of his back, grimacing slightly.  He twists around a little to stretch it.

“I have her chipped.  I have all my family chipped.  Don’t you dare tell Lele, or she’d have my balls.”

“A GPS chip?”  I can’t contain my surprise.

“In her neck, yes.”

Our conversation is cut short as Beni comes up and starts laying out the details of the shipment we’re about to receive.  He points up to one of the buildings that I’m supposed to scout.

“Bad spot,” I say.  “I can’t see the whole area from there.  I’ll be over on the east building.”

Beni glares at me and tries to argue.

“Coverage is better from there,” Paulie says.  “I’m with Evan.”

I look over at him, and he grins.  If he’s trying to make friends, it’s not working.  I don’t need his help; I have no intention of being on the building Beni indicated.  The fact that he is trying to dictate my movements is suspicious enough.

“I’m directing this show,” Beni says.  “If you don’t like it—”

“I’ll be where I fucking want to be!” I stand up straighter and stare Beni in the eyes.  “If you had any fucking sense, we wouldn’t be here at all!”

“Relax!”  Rinaldo places his hand on my shoulder again.  “We don’t have time for this.”

I shrug him off and continue to stare at a seething Beni.  Rinaldo shoos Beni and Paulie away and then turns back to me.

“You’re being paranoid, son,” Rinaldo says under his breath, but I’m not convinced.  “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I’m fine.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”  Rinaldo is losing patience with me.

“I slept fine, sir,” I tell him.  Then I look at him with a wry smile.  “Even got laid, if you’re interested.”

Rinaldo laughs and slaps me on the back.

“We’re about ready,” Beni says as he walks back over to us, ignoring me completely.  “Everyone, get into position.”

I head up the side of the building to the east, glancing at Beni to see if he’s going to argue, but he doesn’t.  With my duffel over my shoulder, I get into position.  It doesn’t take long to set up.  The wind is unusually calm, which reassures me.  Where I am now has more cover than the other sniping spots around the parking lot, which is why I decided to set up here, but I still don’t like the whole idea.

Through the Barrett’s scope, I survey the area.  We’re still a half hour away from the truck’s arrival time, and there’s nothing of note in my sights.  I focus on the group for a moment and see Rinaldo talking with Becca.  She’s got her spreadsheets on a clipboard, and she’s pointing out some details.

I’m still annoyed.  More often than not, Rinaldo listens to what I have to say and takes my advice.  Maybe it’s because of my long absence, but he seems to trust the opinions of others over mine these days.  I’m obviously not Italian, but sometimes Rinaldo listens to family too much.  They don’t always know what they’re talking about.

At all.

I look around again, trying to determine the weakest entry point to the area.  The main drive is easy to see, and no one will try to sneak in that way.  There are a lot of trees surrounding the east side, which could be an issue, but there’s no road or even a dirt path in that direction.  On the opposite side, there’s a drive coming around the back of the building.

“Watch the back drive,” I say through the radio.

“Will do.”  That’s what Paulie says, but he still has his eyes on the main road.

“Fucking moron,” I mumble before activating the radio.  “The back drive is
behind
you, asshole.”

Paulie glances up in my direction with a glare.  He probably thinks I can’t see him when he flips his fingers under his chin.  I flex my finger around the Barrett’s trigger but don’t actually pull back on it.  As I watch, he walks over to the edge of the building where he would have a clear view.  His eyes are still on the main drive, though.

The rumble of a diesel engine pulls my thoughts from the useless so-called security specialist.  I turn the scope to watch the truck roll up the drive and around the main building to the back next to the empty truck.  From the passenger side, a tall, dark-haired man drops out of the truck and approaches Rinaldo.

I can’t hear their words, but their posture is friendly enough.  They speak for a few minutes until Becca brings over her tablet and starts going over the details of the shipment.  Everyone’s nodding, so the shipment must be in order.

So far, so good.

I check the perimeter again and then out along the line of trees near the preserve.  A slight breeze has picked up, and the dense, rustling leaves make it difficult to spot any human movement.  I adjust the scope, watch carefully, but see nothing.

I swivel the rifle around and look out toward the cemetery.  It’s just across a small river from our location, and I see a couple of recreational boats out on the water.  I have to wonder who in their right mind is out on a boat this time of year and narrow my scope in on the people.

They’re all just sitting there, looking around.  Not drinking a beer, not fishing, and not talking as far as I can tell.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

“Paulie, send a couple guys east to the tree line and the river.  There’s something going on over there.”

“Got it.”  The radio clicks off, and I watch Paulie direct some of the crew in the direction I indicated.  They move at a good pace, guns drawn.  I watch them approach the river just as one of the boats hits land.

I’m not at all surprised when shots ring out.

I focus and aim.  There are four of them in the first boat and five in the second, which has yet to reach the shore.  My first shot is at the guy in the back of the second boat—the one with his hand on the outboard motor’s tiller.  He falls backwards into the water as the others duck below the boat’s side.

Everyone else is hidden by the trees, and I’m having trouble getting a lock on any of them.  One of Rinaldo’s people goes down, and I try to aim at the one who took him out.  It takes two shots, but he drops as well.

There’s yelling coming from behind me, where Rinaldo and the trucks are, but I don’t have time to turn and look.  Another shot, another body.  They’re getting closer, and Rinaldo’s last man on that side drops to the ground, screaming.  I can’t get another shot off until after someone comes up close and pops him in the head.

They’re now racing through the trees, and I can’t aim properly with them moving so fast.  I take a couple of shots, but they don’t find their marks.  I’ve only managed to take out four of the nine so far, and there is currently no one else between them and Rinaldo.

“Get your asses over there!” I yell into the radio.

Automatic rifle fire erupts behind me.  I look away from the scope long enough to see everyone scrambling behind the trucks.  From the back side of the building, three SUVs have pulled around.

I quickly change my angle and start shooting at the vehicles.  I take out the driver of one car, and it skids before sliding into a parked truck.  The other two keep coming.

“Rinaldo’s hit!”

I have no idea whose voice comes through the radio.  As soon as I hear the words, I desert both my post and my Barrett.  I only climb half way down the ladder before dropping to the ground, handgun out and heading toward the trucks.

A group of men jump out of the SUV closest to me.  I raise my gun and fire four times.  Four bodies drop to the ground.  The driver tries to turn the vehicle around, but I get him through the window, and the SUV rolls until it hits one of the guys on the ground.

Paulie and Beni are firing rapidly as one of Rinaldo’s other guards drops to the ground, blood seeping from his chest.  From the side of the lot nearest the river, shots are still being fired as well.  I ignore them all and race to Rinaldo’s side.

The asphalt digs into my knees when I drop down next to him.  There’s blood on the ground nearby, but I can’t tell for sure where it’s coming from.  Rinaldo’s face is pale, and his eyes are blank, but I can see his chest rising and falling.

“Rinaldo!”

He blinks and looks at me.

“I…I think I’m all right.”

I grasp his arm and roll him slightly.  Blood is pooling near his hip, and I can see a gash in his pants where the bullet tore through, but as I tear more of the fabric away, I can see the wound is serious.  It’s near the artery, and he’s losing blood fast.

“Your leg’s hit,” I inform him, trying to keep my voice calm as I tear off my belt and wrap it around the top of his leg as a tourniquet.  “Any pain anywhere else?”

“My gut.”

With the bleeding in his leg slowing, I unzip his coat and look him over carefully.  Two bullets are buried in the material of his Kevlar vest, but there’s no blood around his torso.

A few more shots ring in my ears.  Paulie is beside me a moment later.

“That’s the lot of them.”

“Don’t guess,” I say without looking up.  “Sweep around the outside of the area.  Don’t go alone.  Everyone in at least pairs.  Becca!”

“I’m here!”

“Get whoever isn’t hit to load that truck.  Get it out of here, and make sure you aren’t followed.  Take a long route, and stick to the speed limit.”

“Got it!”

“Where’s Jonathan?”

“He got called away,” Beni informs me.

“You hit?” I ask.

“No.”

“Help me move him.  We need to get him to that hospital.”

“We don’t have anyone on the payroll there.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter!”  My hands are starting to shake from the adrenaline rush, and I’m having trouble controlling my voice.  “He’s losing blood, and there’s no time.  Paulie!  Call Franklyn and have him meet us there.”

Paulie pulls out his phone, and Beni helps me move Rinaldo into the back of his car.

“How are you doing, boss?” I ask as I settle his head on my balled-up jacket.

“I’m fine!”  He’s breathing too heavily to be convincing, but I let it go.  “What about the guns?”

“Becca’s getting the truck out of here now,” I tell him.  “You just hang in there, you got it?  We’re heading to the hospital.”

“No hospital.”

“Not arguing about this one, sir.”

“No hospital!”  He starts to cough, and I lift his head to keep him from choking.