Robert Ferrigno - Heart of the Assassin

The Colonel toyed with a smile. It looked like he was out of practice.

"I'm sorry," said Baby. "I don't expect you to ever forgive me for what I've done, but I wanted to see you face to face, let you know how sorry I am for everything."

The Colonel stared at her. He had looked at her the same way on their wedding day at that little church in the wildwood. Calm and steady before the preacher, the Colonel in his dress uniform with the silver buttons, standing there evaluating the situation, trying to put aside his emotions and see what was right in front of him.

Probably the exact same way he had approached one of the great battles of the civil war, Memphis or Nashville or Owensburg Wood, the Colonel assaying the risks and rewards, recognizing the inevitable casualties, the dead and dying, pain spread like a shroud across those he cared about. At the end of the day, the Colonel had led his men into combat, fearless as the bullets flew like rain, ordering them into certain death for the greater good, the band of brothers rent and bloodied, but charging forward just the same, until their enemies dissolved like mist in the dawn. The Colonel had never misread a battlefield or misjudged a strategic option, but he had misread Baby on their wedding day and he misread her now.

"What's in the picnic basket?" asked the Colonel.

"Who wants to know?"

The Colonel's eyes took her in. "The man who loves you," he said so softly she thought it was the wind in the trees.

Baby took his hand, pulled him onto the blanket, his knees popping. She opened the picnic basket. "Well…" She tapped a finger on her cheek. "I've got iced tea, lemonade, chicken sandwiches and red potato salad, pickled green beans, corn muffins-"

"You make the muffins?"

"Don't be silly," said Baby.

The Colonel helped her set out the food on the blanket.

"I did make the chocolate chip cookies myself," said Baby, putting the plate of cookies in front of them.

"Always liked your cookies," said the Colonel, taking the biggest one. "I did look for you after you left. I had people on the lookout all over the Belt."

"I wasn't in the Belt. I was in Miami."

The Colonel pushed aside a wisp of his long gray hair, covering his disappointment. "I've never been to Miami. Heard it's nice."

"Not near as nice as Tennessee."

"Big hotels and people from all over the world splashing around in the ocean," said the Colonel. "They say the water is warm. Say you can stay in it all day and not get a chill."

"Like Grandma's bathwater," said Baby. "I'd rather swim in one of our mountain lakes, where you come out covered in goose bumps, so alive your whole body's tingling."

"Takes a while for a person to decide what they like best, I guess," said the Colonel. "Some folks never do decide. Always changing their mind, back and forth."

Baby poured him a glass of lemonade. "I'm not going to change my mind, Zachary. That's not why I came back."

The Colonel sipped his lemonade, winced. She always made it too sweet for him.

"Zachary? I'm here now, but I'm not staying. I just wanted you to know it wasn't you that was at fault."

The Colonel wiped his lips. "Married people have troubles once in a while-anyone who tells you different has never been to the altar."

"You…you're not listening."

"I heard everything I need to," said the Colonel. "You're here now, that's all that matters. From the first moment I saw you, the very first moment, that's all I ever wanted."

Baby played with his fingers, aware of his yellowed nails. She watched the river flow past, on its way to God only knew where, and couldn't wait to get moving herself. Soon as she was done with her business here, she'd hightail it back to the Old One. Ibrahim would already be busy poisoning things behind her back. She was going to have to take care of that boy once and for all. Have to do it careful, though.

"Just sitting here with you…never thought it would happen again," said the Colonel.

"Hush now," said Baby. "Let's just enjoy what we got."

Gravenholtz should be making the rounds of zombie territory by now. Two days after she left him and he was probably still grumbling about her going back to the Colonel and why did he always get the dirty jobs?

Well, we all do what we're good at, Lester, honey, she had told him, standing there with the sun shining through her clothes.

I thought we could have a little vacation, just the two of us, Lester had persisted. Who's gonna know? Shit, I'm not afraid of the Old One.

I am, Baby had said. It was a lie. Kind of.

Baby unwrapped a chicken sandwich, handed it to the Colonel. "I put a few mint leaves in there, just the way you like it." She put a hand on his knee. "You're too good for me."

"I know." The Colonel took a big bite of the sandwich. "Maybe I'll let you dirty me up a little bit tonight. I am still your husband, aren't I?"

"You're still my husband," said Baby.

The Old One stood behind Leo, who was playing all six hands at a twenty-one table at the Gilded Lily, the biggest casino on the Las Vegas strip. Gigantic tropical flowers bloomed from hydroponic tanks along the walls, orchids and lilies the size of basketballs, their delicate petals wiggling in the air currents. The Old One wriggled his nose at their heavy fragrance. Leo was just as Baby had described him, big and soft and pale as an infant, his eyes fixed on something just out of range, something no one but he could see.

Leo looked up at the Old One, went back to his cards. No reason anyone would recognize the Old One-he had always maintained a shield of privacy, was almost never photographed, but just in case, he had shaved his beard, lightened his skin and blued his eyes. He wore the shimmering, oversized silk suit of a modern European businessman.

The dealer showed a jack, a good card. Leo split a pair of eights anyway. Stood pat on a twelve, two fourteens and doubled-down on a ten.

The bored dealer actually raised an eyebrow, then turned over his hole card. A six, for a total of sixteen. House rules, he had to hit on sixteen or less. He slid a card out of the shoe: a queen. Busted. He paid off all six of Leo's bets.

Leo added the chips to his already huge pile, then glanced behind him. "I'm going to have the table tied up until I take a cab to the airport." He placed a hundred-dollar chip in front of each of the six table positions. "Three hours, seventeen minutes."

The Old One pulled out a chair, sat down. "That's plenty of time for us to talk, Leo."

The dealer dealt two cards facedown to each of Leo's positions. Dealt two cards to himself, one faceup, one facedown. His up card was a king.

"How do you know my name?" said Leo.

"What are you going to do, sir?" said the dealer.

Leo continued to bet against all good sense, hitting on sixteen, seventeen sometimes, splitting sixes…and he kept winning.

The pit boss wandered over, a bulky man with the face of a bulldog.

"I can't figure him out," the dealer said to the pit boss.

"It's a system," said Leo.

"You're a card counter," said the pit boss.

"That's not illegal, is it?" said Leo.

"No…not illegal." The pit boss looked at the dealer. "Are you using a fifty-deck shoe?" When the dealer nodded the pit boss smiled at Leo. "Good luck with your system."

Leo watched the pit boss lumber away. Covered each of his spots with a thousand-dollar chip. He won four of the six. Won five of the next six. "You never did tell me how you knew my name," Leo said, stacking his chips.

The Old One stuck out his hand. "Harry Voigt, Harry Voigt Investments. Geneva, Shanghai, Nairobi."

Leo didn't take the hand. He put down a five-dollar chip, the minimum bet, at each of his positions. Lost all of them when the dealer made twenty.