“You’ve cost me millions of dollars…”
There’s an icy calm in his voice, and I suspect it means he’s so angry right now, he doesn’t quite know how to express it.
“Well, if you’d known about the Uranium and started selling that as well, you could argue I’ve probably cost you billions, if I’m honest. If it’s any consolation, you did manage to get away without paying me for the Ted Jackson hit. Although, I did kinda screw you over and frame Jimmy for that, didn’t I? Huh… how about we call it even?”
“You’re a fucking dead man, you hear me, kid?” says Pellaggio. “Dead!”
“I think not, actually, Bobby old buddy. See, you’re now a member of an exclusive club for people who I’ve warned more than once. There are two members. One of them has just been arrested for a murder we all know he had nothing to do with. His nose is broken, his pride is hurt and he’s fully aware that if I see him again, I’ll put a bullet in his head. The other is you. So listen up and listen good: if you ever see me again, you run. If I catch you, the last thing you will ever see will be the image of my gun pointing at your face. I’m not threatening you — I’m simply stating an irrefutable fact. Take the hit on this one, walk away, and fight another day.”
“You talk a lot, kid. And you seem to forget exactly who the fuck I am. You’ve caused me a lot of trouble and there are countless bodies buried in the desert that can vouch for the fact that I don’t take too kindly to people fucking with my business. You’re one man, and you’ll soon be a dead one.”
He hangs up before I have chance to say anything else. I look at the phone for a moment and sigh. To be fair, I’ve probably said enough. He’s likely on the phone to everyone he knows right now, rallying his troops, and showing them my picture. I suspect things will get interesting real soon.
So much for getting out of Heaven’s Valley…
I sit in silence for a moment, thinking things over. I re-dial Josh.
“Hey, quick question — you got a number for Robert Clark?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’ll text it you now,” he replies. “What’s up?”
“I need a favor from our new best friend.”
Josh sighs heavily on the other end of the phone. “What have you done, Adrian?”
“Josh, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
Silence.
“Okay, fine. Pellaggio just called me and demanded I give him the deeds. I told him about the Uranium mine and that the U.S. Secretary of Defense ordered me to give them to GlobaTech. He advised me I won’t be alive for long, apparently.”
“To which you replied…?”
“I may have suggested that I was going to shoot him in the head if I ever saw him again.”
“So, not only did you essentially commit treason by divulging classified military information, you succeeded in pissing off one of the biggest mob bosses on the West Coast?”
“He was already pissed at me.”
“Yes, but now he’s gonna be pulling together his vast array of resources and dedicating his every waking moment to killing you.”
“Well, there is that, I suppose.”
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
I pause. “Maybe…”
“I swear, sometimes I think you’re suicidal.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine, stop being such an old woman about it. We’ve dealt with worse.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Can you get me his address?”
“Pellaggio’s? Why? Do you intend knocking on his door and saying ‘Hi’?”
“Something like that.”
“Can I have all your guns and money when you die?”
“Knock yourself out, but I’m being buried with my Berettas.”
“I can live with that. When this goes wrong and you’re buried in the desert, where you’ll be heading you’ll need all the help you can get.”
22
I’m on my way back to the hospital to check on Clara one last time before I leave. I’d talked through with Josh what I had planned for Pellaggio before setting off. He was skeptical to say the least, but he texted me Robert Clark’s number a few moments ago, as well as Pellaggio’s address and directions. I figure I’ll pop over on my way out of here and see if we can’t sort this whole thing out like gentleman…
This car is one of the best I’ve ever driven. The roar of the engine, the speed, and the acceleration feels like someone tried to tame nature itself — and struggled. For a true sports car like the Viper, you have to drive it straight, drive it fast, and have a helluva soundtrack in the background.
I’m messing with the radio to find something suitable. There are a couple of local radio stations playing up-to-date chart music, which is no good at all. After another moment or two of fine-tuning, I stumble across a station with an older-sounding guy talking, introducing three tracks to be played back to back, all classic rock.
That’ll do nicely…
I crank up the volume as the opening riff to Since You’ve Been Gone by Rainbow starts. This song is what I like to call ‘hundred-mile-an-hour music’… I put my foot to the floor and blast down the street; windows down, music loud. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I feel relaxed and free — away from all the burdens and bullets that this city has thrown at me. It’s just the music, the open road, and me.
I pull into the hospital parking lot and turn the volume down to a reasonable, boring level. There aren’t many cars parked nearby, considering it was a hospital. I don’t want to get out of the car… but as the saying goes: there’s no rest for the wicked, I guess.
I get out and walk in through the main entrance. I take the elevator up to the fourth floor. The doors ding open and I step out into the waiting area. One of the nurses behind the desk looks up and smiles. I recognize her from when GlobaTech brought me here in the early hours of this morning. I smile back as I walk past the desk and down the corridor toward Clara’s room. The doors with the keypad are standing open, which is helpful, as I don’t have a keycard.
It’s a little unsecure though…
I walk through and knock on the door to Clara’s room. There’s no answer, so I open the door slowly and look inside, in case she’s sleeping or getting changed or something.
The bed’s empty.
For crying out loud… I wish she’d stop doing that! The woman can’t stay still for more than a couple of minutes, let alone be trusted to seek medical attention when she needs it.
I walk back out to the waiting area and speak to the nurse who smiled at me.
“Excuse me,” I say. “Can you tell me where Clara Fox is? She was in Room Five, down the corridor.”
She checks the computer in front of her for a moment.
“I can see she discharged herself a couple of hours after she came in,” she says, apologetically. “We cleaned the wound and stitched it back up, then she insisted on leaving almost immediately afterward.”
I take a deep breath, sighing heavily. “Okay, thanks for your help.”
I take the elevator back down to the ground floor.
Where the hell is she now? Why would she have checked herself out? There’s nothing left for her to do. GlobaTech will handle Dark Rain, and Pellaggio was never her problem to start with. Where could she be?
I step outside and take my phone out, dialing Clark’s number.
“It’s Adrian,” I say as he answers. “You got a minute?”
“I don’t know where she is either, if that’s what you’re calling to ask?” he says.