He seems to thinks about the situation, and what I’ve said to him.
“Come on,” he says, with a heavy sigh. “I’ll give you a ride wherever you wanna go. Then me and you are gonna have a long talk.”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
He goes for the door, but I grab his arm to stop him.
“Are there definitely two cops outside?” I ask.
“Yeah, at the end of the hall.”
“Okay, let me go first.”
I leave the room first and step out into the hallway, followed by Frank, then Josh. The buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead is loud in the near-deserted hospital, and my footfalls echo on the permanently buffed tiled floor. I look left and see more rooms; to the right are the front desk and the elevators. And the cops.
“Come on,” I say over my shoulder.
I stride purposefully toward the reception area. The cops are standing side by side talking to the nurse on night duty. As I step out into the waiting area, they turn and stare at me.
A few questions, my ass.
Making a conscious effort not to use my injured arm, I rush over to them and, before they can properly react, I throw a straight right and catch the cop on the left flush on his jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. As the second moved to draw his gun, I swing my right elbow back and smash into his nose. Using my momentum, I turn and kick his knee with my left foot. He overbalances and drops to the floor.
Both cops are down and neither of them is in any state to follow me, which is good. I’ve made sure they’re not seriously injured either, just in case I’m wrong about them working for Trent.
The nurse standing behind the front desk is staring at me, eyes wide, jaw open. I avoid any prolonged eye contact with her, so I’ll be less memorable if she gets questioned later. I head for the elevators, press the button, and wait. Frank and Josh appear next to me. Josh has a somewhat bemused look on his face. Frank, on the other hand, is dumbstruck. He looks behind him at the cops, then back at me.
“Who the hell are you?” he asks.
The doors ding open and we all step inside. I hit the button for the first floor, and as the doors close again, I turn to him. “All in good time, Frank,” I say. “All in good time.”
24
Wilson Trent’s phone rang, disturbing him from his already restless slumber. He leaned over and clicked on his bedside lamp, rubbing his eyes so they adjusted to the sudden brightness. He looked at the clock and groaned when he saw the time. He picked it up and looked at the display.
Unknown number.
“What?” he said as he answered.
The voice on the other end was female, deep and somewhat alluring.
“It’s me,” said Dominique Tevani.
“Is it done?” he asked, finding it difficult to hide just a hint of excitement from his otherwise cold voice.
“You never told me it was Adrian Hell you’d sent me after…”
“I said at the time — I gave you the location of your target and told you how much money you’d be getting. Why the fuck should it matter who it was?”
“I’m a professional,” she replied. “I like to know everything about my mark, so I can prepare for every eventuality. He’s the biggest fish in the ocean, and the fact I had no idea he was going to walk into that room left me unnecessarily vulnerable. The added risk is going to add to the price.”
“How much?”
“An extra half a million,” she said.
Trent was silent for a moment, angry at the fact someone had the audacity to try to negotiate with him. But under the circumstances, he relented.
“Whatever,” he said. “Is it done?”
It was Dominique’s turn to fall silent before talking. Then she said, “I put a bullet in him, yes. And his weird little British friend.”
He was beginning to lose his temper.
“Is that fucker dead?” he shouted, pausing slightly after each word for emphasis.
“It’s true what they say, y’know?” she began, ignoring his question. “You should never meet your heroes… I’m not saying he was my hero or anything, but I always admired his work. I mean, that guy was a legend in our business, y’know? Yet when I was face to face with him, it turned out he was incredibly easy to put down. He just kinda stood there and talked at me until I shot him…”
It was like she was talking in general, as opposed to directly to Trent, and her words trailed off, sounding like she was heavily distracted.
Trent stared at the receiver in disbelief before speaking again.
“Do I need to hire someone else to dispose of yet another assassin who’s begun to annoy me? Is that piece of shit dead, yes or no?”
Dominique was silent for a moment longer before answering.
“Yes,” she said.
“Good,” he replied. ‘Then it won’t be a problem delivering his head to me, will it? Midday, my office.”
He hung up and threw the phone across the room, hearing it smash against the wall before turning his light off and closing his eyes once again.
Later that morning, Trent sat behind his desk in his penthouse suite atop his office building in downtown Pittsburgh, with his chair turned around, looking out the window at the expanse of the city around him.
His city.
It was still quite dark, with the low, gray cloud circling around in the sky menacingly, preparing to assault the city with another downpour.
Facing his desk, sitting on one of the sofas, was his accountant, Joseph Bernstein. He was wearing what looked like the same suit from the other day. His briefcase was open on the table in front of him, and he was shuffling through some papers as he spoke.
“I also need to explain the one point five million dollar expenditure made yesterday against one of the business accounts… how do you want to handle that?” he asked.
Trent didn’t turn around and was silent for a few moments. He had gotten to where he was by being a ruthless and savvy businessman, as well as a notorious gangster. He ran most of Pennsylvania because he invested heavily in the major cities within the state. He bought and expanded local businesses, creating income and employment opportunities. He financially supported local officials and state senators in their campaigns, helping them get elected. He gave to charities so the people loved him. Then, once each city was in the palm of his hand, he clenched his fist, tightening his grip on their lives and squeezing them with extortion, prostitution, arms dealing, drug trafficking… even funding terrorism, if he saw an opportunity to profit from it. He was extremely frustrated that one man had attempted to threaten everything he’d built.
He spun around in his chair and looked at Bernstein.
“It’s two million,” he corrected. “It was a personal investment, explain it however you want.”
Bernstein simply nodded and let the matter drop. He’d been Trent’s accountant long enough to know when to stop asking questions and when to gloss over certain details.
Trent pressed a buzzer just underneath his desk, and moments later Duncan and Bennett came in. They strode side by side across the room and stood behind the sofa opposite Bernstein.
“Find the woman,” Trent said to Bennett. “Dominique. I don’t trust her. Follow her and make sure she brings me Adrian’s head. And once she has… bring me hers.”
Without hesitation, Bennett simply nodded, then turned, and left the room.
Trent looked at Duncan. “I intend to take this afternoon off,” he announced. “I’ll be going to watch the Steelers’ game later from my box. Make the necessary arrangements.”