Robert Ferrigno - The wake-up

"Have you ever seen The Lion King, Frank?"

"Ah… yeah, sure. I like that movie."

"I told Clark and Missy that they didn't have to kill Arturo. They could have exiled him instead."

"Like Simba?"

"I knew you would understand." Vlad sighed. "I wish Arturo had just asked me for money, instead of going to work for Guillermo. I have over three million dollars in my closet, I would have given it to him."

"You have three million dollars in cash and you're living in the back of a store?"

"Arturo used to say that, too." Vlad patted Arturo's shoulder. "He told me to buy myself some clothes, a sports car, a house, a woman… but I never wanted any of those things. I never wanted anything at all. If I had found something I really wanted, I would have spent every penny… but I never did." He trembled. "I just wished Arturo had asked me. I would have given him all the money he needed." His shirt was soaked now. "Arturo was too proud to ask for help."

"Arturo didn't betray you. He wasn't working for Guillermo."

"Clark and Missy said he was. They had proof."

"I set Arturo up." Strange the relief Thorpe felt telling the truth. "I was the one who betrayed you all."

Vlad peered at him. "Why?"

Thorpe shook his head.

"Why, Frank? What did we ever do to you?"

"Ray Bishop was a friend of mine, and I thought… I thought Arturo had killed him. I thought I was protecting the Meachums." Thorpe looked around the room, taking in the dead. "I knew the kinds of things you and Arturo had done. Somebody had to step in… and that was me."

"I see." Vlad stared at him with those pale blue eyes. "Some of the things Arturo and I did… they made me sick. They gave me nightmares. Arturo and I, we did bad things, terrible things, but we didn't kill your friend, and Clark told us not to touch the Meachums." One eye was rimmed with blood. "Are you going to kill me now, Frank?"

"No."

"Arturo is dead. There's no one for me now."

"I'm not going to kill you."

Vlad's hands twitched in his lap. "The scientists used to talk about these things they created… these cellular catalysts. They said their best work was sleeping inside us, just waiting until we needed it, but the scientists…" He looked at Thorpe, forced his hands to be still. "The scientists, they didn't really know what we needed."

"Let me take you to a hospital."

A red tear slid down Vlad's cheek. "I've seen enough doctors."

Thorpe was halfway through the front gate before he spotted the man sitting on his front stoop reading a newspaper. The paper hid his face, but Thorpe recognized the posture, legs splayed, the same way he had sat when they were crouched in the underbrush, hiding from Lazurus's men. It was the Engineer.

"You coming in, Frank?" the Engineer said from behind the newspaper. The same voice that Thorpe had heard while lying in the plastic surgeon's office, flat and uninflected, not a trace of the European accent from the running track. "If you're going to rabbit, there's no need to sprint. I'm too out of shape to chase you."

Thorpe checked the street, checked the windows of the other apartments. He shut the gate behind him, heard it lock, then crossed toward his front door.

The Engineer folded the paper, stood up, fleshier than Thorpe remembered, his face newly sunburned. He wore dark pants, a short-sleeved dress shirt, and a clip-on necktie. Good camouflage. "I don't know if you're a comics fan," he said, tucking the paper under one arm, "but that Dilbert still cracks me up. Nice to see-"

Thorpe drove the heel of his hand under the Engineer's chin, snapped his head back, and knocked him onto the grass. The newspaper fluttered in the breeze. Thorpe waited, but there was no sign of Gregor, or anyone else the Engineer might have brought along.

The Engineer groaned, tried to sit up, then lay back down again.

Thorpe patted him down for weapons. Nothing.

"You… you still mad about that bit of fun at the safe house?" gasped the Engineer. "I thought we were past that." He rolled over onto his belly, got to his hands and knees. "You going to hit me again? If you are, do it now, so I won't have so far to fall."

Thorpe watched him.

The Engineer got slowly to his feet. He spit, his tongue sliding across his mouth. "You chipped my front tooth." He straightened his necktie. "I got back a few days early and wanted to surprise you. Black's Beach is nice, but you really don't want to see me naked, Frank." He stuck his hand out. "No hard feelings."

"Shut up."

"You think you're the only one with a grudge?" The Engineer pouted. "I'm the wounded party here. You're the one who stepped into my situation with Lazurus. I spent months setting that up, and you and Kimberly trashed it in a few weeks. If anyone is owed an apology-"

Thorpe backhanded him.

The Engineer stayed on his feet, spitting blood now. "Okay… okay. Let's agree to disagree. We can do business. That's all that matters."

"Where's Gregor?"

The Engineer dabbed at his mouth. "That's another sad story. Poor Gregor. I offered him a management opportunity, but, in the end, he just wasn't able to meet my exacting standards. In spite of my efforts, he was just another load of meat."

"How did you find me?"

"Secrets are the basis of any relationship, Frank. You keep yours and I'll keep mine. We should be focusing on the future. I have my contacts and suppliers; you have yours. We don't have to be friends, but it would be a terrible waste not to become partners."

Thorpe had spent months trying to find the Engineer, and now that he had him, he didn't know what to do. He had assumed there would be some sort of confrontation, with Gregor present, and plenty of the ultraviolence. Thorpe had assumed he would kill them both, or die trying, but this… Killing him now would be murder. Turning the Engineer over to the police was tempting. The Engineer's old shop would cover up any crimes he had committed on their watch, but maybe he had gotten careless lately. Perhaps he was wanted, fingerprints and eyewitnesses waiting to put him away. Warren could hack some police databases, see what came up. It wouldn't be as satisfying as killing the son of a bitch, but after the scene with Vlad, Thorpe had had enough of death.

"What are you thinking, Frank?"

"Trying to decide what to do with you."

The Engineer pursed his lips. "You could treasure me for the rare and unique individual that I am."

"That's not one of my options."

The Engineer laughed. "Come on, let's get rich and have some laughs. That's what it's all about, isn't it?"

Thorpe checked the front door to his apartment. The tiny bit of clear wax pressed against the upper jamb was uncracked, undisturbed. He opened the door, grabbed the Engineer by the back of the neck, and pushed him inside. Thorpe stepped in, crouched, the 9-mm sweeping from side to side.

The Engineer looked up from the floor. "You're not very trusting."

Thorpe locked the door behind him and went through the house, the gun cocked. He checked the bathroom, the closets, even looked under the bed. The windows were still locked from the inside, their own wax seals intact. They were alone.

"Can I get up now?" The Engineer fingered his necktie. "Please?"

Thorpe beckoned him.

The Engineer awkwardly got to his feet. "That's… better." He held his hands out, losing his balance.

Thorpe reached for him. It was a reaction, not a thought. As he steadied him, the Engineer snatched off his tie, jammed it under Thorpe's nose. Thorpe heard a faint crackle of breaking glass, and his knees buckled. When Thorpe awoke, he was seated in his leather chair, he had a ringing headache, and he and the Engineer weren't alone.

Gregor squinted at him, over three hundred pounds of ugly, his belly flopping out of the purple jogging suit. The Cyrillic tattoos ringing his thick neck seemed stretched, as though he had swallowed a Great Dane. His face was puffy and scabbed over, his left ear bandaged. "He is awake."