Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

“Please, don’t.” Ray and Cassandra were both screaming at him. “Okay, okay. This is all I know. I was supposed to follow you and report back on exactly where you went. That’s all they told me.”

Ray kicked him hard. Campbell writhed in pain, and was rolling around on the ground when he looked at Ray with a fearful expression. “I’m sorry. I wish I did know more, but I don’t.”

Ray stunned him a couple more times, and Campbell screamed each time he was zapped. “TELL ME ABOUT EUGENE SULKE!”

Campbell could barely speak now. He tried to catch his breath, and then his voice came out as a feeble whisper. “He owned the car I saw you near.”

“What else?” Ray said.

“Nothing.” Campbell was still talking at a whisper and showing signs of extreme agony.

Ray was about to kick him again, when Campbell uttered a feeble, “Something about Hell House.”

Ray and Cassandra just looked at each other. Then Ray flashed a vicious look at Campbell. “WHERE IS HELL HOUSE?”

Fighting back the pain, Campbell struggled to gather himself. “They’re going to take Sulke there when they finish it.”

“WHERE IS IT?” There was no answer. Ray kicked him again.

Campbell screamed and clenched his teeth, fighting back the pain. Tears flowed down his cheek.

“WHERE IS IT?” Campbell was silent. “WHERE IS HELL HOUSE LOCATED?” Campbell wasn’t moving or talking.

Cassandra felt for a pulse. “I don’t think he’s going to be answering any more questions. He’s barely alive.”

Ray just stared at Campbell, still flashing a menacing look, and then he turned to his wife. “You know, Cass, I’ve interrogated a lot of men and I don’t think I’ve ever administered so much punishment as this guy took without giving me his life story. They usually turn into such chatter boxes that they’re singing about the time they took the last cookie out of the jar. I don’t think this bird knows anything else.”

Cassandra stared down at Campbell, frowning. Then she turned to Ray with a fearful look. “Hell House, Ray? Not that place again!”

“Excuse me sir,” said Dennis’s secretary. “The Brigade Commander is on line two.”

“O’Reilly,” Dennis said.

“Goose’s dead,” Mad Dog said. “They found his body next to his car a few miles from Sulke’s home.”

“Shit. He was your best man. “

“Well, he’s a dead man now. He called me around midnight and told me he spotted your brother and his wife by Sulke’s car. He told me they got spooked and took off. Goose followed them and called me. He was supposed to update me, but I didn’t hear from him again. I sent a squad to his last known location, and they found his body near his car in a bedroom community a few miles from Sulke’s home.”

“Where was he heading?”

“West.”

“Thanks commander.” Dennis hung up and looked nervous.

Jaydan Casimir noticed something wrong and approached his assistant. “What’s going on?”

Dennis filled him in.

“How much did you tell him?”

“Nothing. Only to follow him and stay in communication with us.”

“This is important, O’Reilly. Did you tell him about Hell House?”

“No, sir. I only told him the absolute minimum he needed to know in case he did get caught.”

“Good.”

Dennis stopped by Hell House, on the south side, to see how the work was going. Chills ran down his spine, but he couldn’t understand where this angst was coming from. He walked over to a man named Bartolo, the Captain of the south side brigades, and the organizer of the security team.

“Captain Bartolo, are we almost ready?”

“We’ll be ready by Saturday morning. Are you ready, O’Reilly?”

“I have a slight problem, Captain,” Dennis said, “but it isn’t anything for you to worry about. All those goddamn ex-Blues; they’ve been nothing but a pain. I swear to God, if we could stick them all in here, we could start the Blues up again; be a real kick ass team; just like they used to be—especially my brother. Goes in all fucked up; comes out all buddies again. We’d be hugging each other and he’d be saying he found the light. A real fucking laugh riot.”

Bartolo nodded in agreement. “They’re so damn idealistic—the Blues, I mean. I tell you, O’Reilly, the Lightning Squad was almost kaput. We were constantly broke. Fight the RAC. Give to the poor. What a load of shit. We’d be dead broke, and then we’d get our hands on loot from some RAC brigade—usually at the cost of a few lives—then what did we do with the haul? We’d give it to some homeless fuck who’d take it and say, ‘Where were you guys when they fired me? I used to have a real job, now I get table scraps from the likes of you.’ Yeah, that’s the way they looked at us; like we were responsible, and now we’re holding out on them. What the fuck?

“Then Commandant Jaydan Casimir from that NOGOV organization took over. Said we needed to be run like a business. No more giving stuff away to people who don’t appreciate it anyway. Now we keep it. Except your brother, that cunt of his, and a bunch of others wouldn’t go along. We kicked them out of the Squad, but a bunch more went with them; some of our best men. I tell you, O’Reilly, I’d love to see them all treated.”

Dennis smiled, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely, Captain!”

“Now, what is the problem I’m not supposed to be worried about?”

“My brother killed one of my men. It has nothing to do with Eugene. He’ll be here.”

“Do you know where Sulke is?”

“Oh, yeah. I have him tracked. Don’t worry, Captain, I’ll have him here Saturday. He’s coming over to my house, so there won’t be any problems.”

“I’m counting on you, O’Reilly. We’ve gone through a lot of trouble setting up Hell House. I’d hate to hear I wasted my time.”

Dennis just smiled. “Don’t worry, he’ll be here.”

Dennis was visibly upset. He turned to his wife, with the bad news. “That was Gene on the phone. He’s not coming over Saturday.”

“Den, we need him. What did he say?”

“Said he was needed at work. I told him to come over as soon as he finished. He just gave me some bullshit excuse. I don’t believe for a minute he’s going to work. He never works on weekends. In any event, I’ve got him tracked. If he goes anywhere, I’ll know.”

“What do we do if he’s telling the truth? What if he does go to work?”

“I got to think.”

“What if he just wants to stay home?”

“I don’t know.”

“Den, if he goes to work we’ll have to wait until he comes home. Once home, we can go get him.”

“I know, hon. Still, the issue is how do we get him?”

“Bring your service revolver.”

“Kidnap him? No, I can’t do that. Let me think.”

“I don’t care how you get him to Hell House, just get him there. Look at these clothes of mine. Do you know how long it’s been since I bought anything new? I’m sick of old, torn, tawdry clothes. I’m sick of buying second hand from some thrift store. You promised me I’d have new clothes.”

“I know, I know, Teresa, and you will.” Dennis then brightened up, and a smile grew on his face. “Wait! I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“I know how we can get Eugene to Hell House. I have to make a few calls first.”

Ray and Cassandra spent the rest of the week checking on Eugene’s movements, and trying to figure out where Hell House was. They brought their friend Daniel in to hack into the Squad’s central computer to see what he could find, but so far, getting in was proving to be quite difficult.