“Stakes just got raised, bro,” Roberto said with a wink at Miguel.
“What are you talking about?” Miguel said.
“You’re sitting on your fat butts, thinking too small,” Lena said. “I’m talking national and soon after that global control. You want in or not?”
Miguel grabbed Roberto’s shoulder.
“Of course he does.” Smiling at Lena. “We all do. Ain’t that right, Roberto?”
Roberto shrugged his hand away and glared at the others.
“Some hot chick in leather shows up and now you’re her lap dog?”
That did it. Lena’s patience, paper thin to start with, had now worn through. She walked over to Roberto, who kept puffing on his cigar even when her hand reached his shoulder and slid down over his chest.
“I better be getting a lap dance soon,” he said as he puffed a cloud right into her face, “or I’m outta here.”
Lena opened her right hand. A KA-BAR appeared in it. She pressed its razor tip right into one of Roberto’s chins.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where the hell did you—”
She snapped the fingers of her left hand and pointed the Baretta 950 Jeftfire that appeared in it at the other Hernandez men.
“You boys done screwing around? I’m getting tired of all this.”
Miguel wagged his eyebrows at Roberto and shrugged.
“I suggest you listen to the hot chick, eh?”
“O-kay,” Roberto squeaked.
Lena took the knife from his throat and set it down on the table. She did the same with the gun, then slid both weapons over to the other two Hernandez men for examination.
As soon as the younger one got the knife, he grabbed it and lunged at her.
Without so much as turning around, Lena shot her hand out, caught him by the wrist, and swiftly twisted it with such strength it snapped.
“What the hell!” Miguel said.
The other Hernandez man picked up the Baretta and pointed it at Lena.
“All right, bitch. You think you’re all that?”
“You really don’t want to do that, Joey,” Miguel said. “Put that—”
“Nah, man! She’s whack! Look what she did to Mark!” His voice sounded tough, but the gun in his hand was shaking. To Lena: “You better watch yourself, muchacha!”
She blew out a sharp breath and let go of the moaning Hernandez whose wrist she’d broken. A moment later, the Baretta in Joey Hernandez’s grip changed from charcoal to amber, then blazing white. A sound like a steak on a grill sizzled from the gun, along with the stench of searing meat.
“Ay!” Joey tried to drop the gun.
It took a few shakes—his flesh had burned onto the Baretta’s molten surface. When it finally fell, wisps of smoke rose from the open palm of the charred right hand he clutched by the wrist with his left. Moaning and writhing, Joey fell to his knees next to his brother, also writhing, his hand bent at a perverse angle.
“I apologize for my sons,” Roberto said. “They’ve always been…impulsive.”
Lena snapped her fingers at them.
Before their eyes, the injuries vanished—everything was restored, every man in the room marveling.
Miguel blinked. “How did you…?”
“It’s all a matter of perception. Of course I could have really hurt your boys if I wanted to. But I want your help and I’ll need you all physically in one piece.”
“But that really hurt.” Joey was gawking at his restored hands. “I saw it, I felt it.”
“I made you all believe it was real. So for you, it was.”
“And those?” Roberto pointed to the gun and knife on the floor. “I mean, they just appeared out of thin air.”
“Oh, they’re real.”
“Now you ready to listen, bro?” Miguel got them all seated, then sat down at the head of the boardroom table and looked at Lena. “We’ll do whatever you say, lady. Mind telling us what the hell you are?”
“I’m real, that’s all you need to know. Now listen carefully…”
67
IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE FUN to roast them all like the swine they were, but Lena couldn’t be bothered with picking up after Nick’s shoddy work. These pigs would have to do it so she could concentrate on the big event tonight.
“Have it your way,” Roberto Hernandez said. “What do you want from us?”
“First I want you to imagine a new world where things are done right, and only the right leaders get to make the decisions—wouldn’t you want to be part of that group?”
“I don’t know. Depends on what you call right. What’s in it for us?”
“If you’re on the right side, you stay in power in the new order.” Of course, she was telling them what their itching ears wanted to hear—not the truth, that they’d be slaves and metaphysical fodder in the new order.
“You kidding me? You’re just some chick with magic tricks.”
“What I just did to your boys?” Lena snarled. “That’s just a preview, and I’ve got a lot of others like me supporting my cause. It’s all going down tonight. Make the right choice, you can be on our side. Otherwise…” She glanced over at the gun on the floor.
It floated up and over to touch each of the men’s foreheads, one at a time, finally returning to press against Roberto’s.
He scoffed. “Yeah. Right. That ain’t real.”
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Lena said.
A bead of sweat rolled down his face as he sat silent. Joey grabbed his arm.
“Papi, come on—it’s for real!”
He didn’t need to examine it , he was convinced. “Okay, okay. So, what’s the job?”
“Just two hits,” Lena said. “One of them, Miguel’s been trying to get for some time now, the other is an easy target.”
“Who?”
Lena pointed to the middle of the conference table, where a pair of three-dimensional images appeared.
“Lito Guzman!” Mark pointed to the one on the left. “I capped him in Mission Valley!”
“Apparently he survived.” These boys needed to be more thorough. But in all fairness Lena hadn’t known what happened that morning until last night when her tracking device—the cell phone she gave Nick—enabled her to access the traffic cam footage. Either she’d trusted Nick too much or there’d been a huge disconnect between them.
“Nah, man, no way!” Mark said.
“He had some help,” Lena said.
“What kind of help?”
She glared at Miguel Suarez. “You haven’t explained to them yet?”
He shrugged. “Like they’d just take my word.”
He was right. For these guys, the concept of a round planet would probably be a stretch. Better show rather than tell.
“All right, Joey. Pick up the gun.”
He complied. Lena pointed at her chest.
“Shoot me.”
“What?” Joey said.
“You want to know what kind of help Lito had, I’m going to show you. Now, shoot me.”
“Whatever.”
Just before he squeezed off a round, the others covered their ears to shield them from the blast of a weapon fired inside a room. At the same moment, Lena became invisible while standing in front of Miguel.
But Joey had squeezed his eyes shut and fired off three consecutive rounds. One of the bullets hit Lena’s invisible and molecularly altered body, and fell to the carpet in the form of coin-like slags.
With Lena gone from his sight, Miguel spilled out of his chair expecting bullets to hit him square in the face. He hit the wall spewing Spanish expletives and scrambled backward, butt on the floor, until he realized he couldn’t go back any further.
Lena reappeared, bent down and picked up the flattened rounds, then with one hand lifted a trembling Miguel to his feet.