Michael Langlois - Bad Radio

“Why bother being polite? You already threatened my friends, so it’s not like we’re going to be pals.”

He grinned at me. His teeth were perfectly straight and white, also like something you’d see on television. “Civility can be had in any situation. I could have had a knife jammed into this old gentleman’s neck when you came in, maybe shouted a bunch of crazy threats at you, but what would that have accomplished? We already know where we stand. Why be crude about it?”

“Sometimes crude just works better.” I was across the room with my forearm in his neck before he could bring his hands up. The impact slammed him against the wall, and his heels came off the floor.

“My men,” he croaked out, “will kill your friends unless I order them not to. Put me down.” I pretended to think about it while I let his face turn blotchy. Then I shrugged and stepped back.

He was surprisingly unruffled. “My client warned me about you.” He rubbed his throat and raised his eyebrows. “But you don’t worry me. I didn’t get where I am by being the strongest or the fastest. I got here by being smarter than all the tough guys I’ve buried over the years. See, I’m your protection. Getting in my good graces insures that nothing happens to you and yours in the future. Now, stay on my good side and give me the objects.”

“Don’t do it.” Henry was standing now, the tired lines of his face set and hard. “Kill him and get rid of the pieces. Better that his men kill all of us than let Piotr have them.”

“He’s … right. Do it.” The voice was weak and thready, but it sounded out clearly. Leon was awake. “Kill him.”

Dom’s cool indifference slipped a little. I’ll give him credit, it wasn’t by much, and it only lasted for a fraction of a second, but I saw the fear. “If that’s what you want. But you’ll be throwing more than just your own lives away. Leon’s got a momma and a sister. His sister has a baby. You understand me?”

Sheets rustled as Leon tilted his head forward. “Fuck you.” The rage on Leon’s face was naked and pure. Dominic didn’t step back from the Marine, but in his shoes I might have.

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” said Henry. “You might have paid your men enough to kill us if you don’t come out. And they might even do it instead of just keeping the money and walking away. But the idea that they would risk committing half a dozen homicides after you’re dead and gone? Unlikely.”

Dom smiled. “But you don’t know that. I have friends, too. And in my business, we tend to take a dim view when one of us is taken out. The perpetrators usually end up as chunks in a lake somewhere to discourage the idea that any of us can be killed without serious repercussions.”

“You’ll still be dead.”

“That’s enough.” I took the duffel from Anne. “Did Piotr tell you what you were stealing?”

“No, and I didn’t ask. That’s not how it works. Give me the bag.”

“How do you know that I won’t follow you and try to get them back?”

He shrugged. “If you leave the hospital within an hour of my departure, you’re friends will die, whether you catch up to me or not. Now give me the bag, I won’t ask again.”

I passed him the bag. He took it from me and unzipped it. He reached inside for a moment, and then pulled his hand back and stared into the dark interior before zipping it back up. He looked like he had put his hand in something rotten.

Piotr must have told him that he could check for fakes by touching the pieces, but I’m sure he wasn’t prepared for the sick dread that came with it. He swallowed and locked eyes with me for a moment. And for that moment, I could tell that he was wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“You probably don’t want to sleep too close to those. The last person that spent time near one ended up living in her own filth and drawing on the walls. You sure you want them?”

“I do my job.” His game face came back. “Don’t leave here for an hour. Once I make the delivery, I’ll call off my men.”

Anne stepped forward. “How will we know when that is?”

“Well, beautiful, you’ll know because these two gentlemen will keep sucking air. If they die badly in the next couple of days, then I guess I didn’t make it.”

He tipped an imaginary hat at her, and then left the room. I checked the clock, and then sat down next to Henry.

He looked tired and defeated. “You made a mistake.”

“He’ll lead me to Piotr.”

“Maybe. And maybe by the time you catch up, he’ll have had all the altar pieces long enough so that it doesn’t matter. It’s too big a risk to take.”

“You know what he’s doing. I can’t let him keep butchering people for his pit or turning them into bags. You know what he’s doing out there, and what he’ll keep doing if we don’t stop him.”

Henry leaned in. For a moment I thought he was going to hit me. “I don’t think we do know what he’s doing, Abe. He wasn’t done when we surprised him in Warsaw. You remember the room that he had the altar set up in?”

I did. The horror of the men that formed the base of the altar, pierced through the eyes but still alive. I remembered the half-finished scaffolding on the walls, and the piles of cable and iron rods in the corners. “I remember.”

“What was all that for? It surely wasn’t just to make a blood-filled fountain of youth, or he’d have used it already and been gone. He thought that whatever he was doing would give him revenge against the people who killed his country and his family.” A cold hand squeezed my guts. “He needs those pieces. He needs them for something that could give him his revenge against an entire nation.”

Henry was right. I had made a mistake.

Engaging Dominic had exhausted Leon, wiping out what few reserves he had left. He was sleeping. I gestured at him with my head. “How’s he doing?”

Henry glanced at Leon, maybe unconsciously, maybe to see if he was really asleep. “Crushed vertebrae and a severed spinal cord. He’ll live, but he won’t walk again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Carlos’s mother came to the hospital yesterday, she’s known Leon since he was a boy. You could see the envy in her eyes, that I still had Leon. She knows how lucky I am. How lucky he is. I know he won’t see it that way when he finds out, but it’s a blessing to be alive.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“Not yet. He’s on a lot of drugs for the pain. We’ll talk when he has a clear head and can stay awake for more than five minutes.”

Anne put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Is there anything we can do?”

“Not giving the altar pieces away would have been good. Getting them back would be nice, too.”

“He could be anywhere by the time we get out of here. We can’t leave for an hour.”

He looked up at her, right in the eyes. “Yes, you can.”

She stared back at him, her jaw set.

I broke the silence. “We can, and we will. Don’t let Dom define your choices for you. He said his men would come for Henry and Leon if we left. How will they know?”

Anne nodded. “Because they’re here, watching.”

“I figure one in the lobby by the elevators, and one in each of the two stairwells, if they have that many guys. If we try and leave the floor, one of them will see us.”

“So, what? Try and sneak out some other way?”

“I’m afraid not. Dom is already gone. The only way to find him now is to know where he’s going. So, we have to grab his goons before the hour is up and they leave the hospital. Once they go, the next time we encounter them will be via a rifle round to the back of the skull. Dom would have done it tonight if the hospital weren’t so public. This is just a fleeting moment of safety while he gets clear. After an hour, we’re fair game once we’re out in the open. They have to kill us, Anne. Piotr doesn’t want us coming after the pieces, and we’ve seen Dom’s face.”