Dead Man's Hand (19 page)

Guard
number two dismissed my worry, or at least I thought that was what he was
doing, as he answered me.  “Nonsense you’re in no danger of freezing to
death.”  He must have motioned for number one to release my head because
the tension vanished before he went on.  “If that was our intention you
would have been thoroughly soaked before we brought you in here.  Besides,
if we were freezing you, do you honestly think either of us would have been in
a position to hear you call out?”

“You’re
getting a similar effect of soaking me by pumping my body full of ice cold
fluid.”

“How
did…”  Guard number two began to ask, a look of honest shock on his face.

I was
in no particular mood to be nice so I simply spoke over him.  “The twinge
in my arms are very unique to IVs.  And when you pump people full of IV
fluid they typically get cold.  So I’ll ask you the question again. 
Why are you freezing me?”

With
an exasperated sigh number two attempted an explanation.  “Since you can’t
see everything we have you hooked up to I can see why you think we’re trying to
freeze you.”  One of the pair, more than likely number two, took a couple
of steps towards me.  Presumably it was so he could whisper his facts into
my ear.  “I know you don’t know what we know, so let me correct that
deficiency.  One of the things we have you connected to is a fancy
thermometer, and currently it says your body temp is 89.7.”

I
could sense him turning his head to face number one, “We need to raise the
room’s temperature just a tad.  Would you be so kind and see to it?” 
I could hear number one leave, albeit hesitantly, before number two went
on.  “We were told to keep your body as close to ninety degrees as
possible, so that’s what we’re going to do.”

Needing
more answers I decided to fish a little bit, the worst thing that could happen
was they would kill me a little sooner than planned.  “These IVs have got
to be doing more than helping you regulate my body temperature.”  I waited
several moments for number two to reply before I realized that I hadn’t
actually asked him a question.  “What are you putting in my body with
those IVs?”

“You
don’t get to…”  Began an irate number one, I was ready to upgrade my
feeling to an absolute certainty.

If it
wasn’t for number two I think number one would have cheated Dempsey of his
retribution.  “Marcus,” number two began.  I should have expected
them to know my name but I would be lying if I said that sudden knowledge
didn’t scare me even more than my confinement.  “I know what you’re
capable of even when you’re cold, without certain restraints in place. 
Now if you please, our boss would prefer you alive.  He told us you are
potentially valuable to him but he is perfectly willing to accept our word that
making a corpse of you was our only real option.  Besides, he will answer
all of your questions when he arrives.”

I
could hear the retreating guards but, before the door was closed completely, it
was swung open once again and the footsteps were coming towards me.  As I
began to pull in a long breath to try and ease my nerves a blindfold fell
across my eyes, once again plunging me into a world of darkness.  Not to
mention another skipped heartbeat, but my heart quickly made up for lost time.

“I
almost forgot to give you this newest accessory; it’s a very stylish.  I
do hope you enjoy the… privacy this piece provides.”  Guard number two
said without emotion.

Sick
to my stomach from the isolation, an over-beating heart, and information
overload, I just sat in my chair and thought about the goons’ words. 
There had to be something useful there, I just had to filter out the gems from
the muck.  As I searched in my mind I grew depressed with the uselessness
of my information.  I didn’t think I was asking for too much, I only needed
something to prevent myself from drowning.  Unfortunately for me guard
number two was one of the most tight-lipped and careful men I had ever come
across.  That man could teach politicians how to give useless
answers.  And to make it even worse he managed to do a fantastic job
controlling his partner as well.  I sat there lost and alone, with only my
thoughts to mark the passage of time or keep me company.  This was going
to be a long wait.

There wasn’t much for me
to do sitting here in this freezer, tied to a chair, and blindfolded.  I
only had the words of the two goons to occupy me, so I kept running through
them in my head.  It didn’t matter that I had gone over the words enough
to know that nothing was there, I still had to search for the nugget of
information that might be useful.  As the minutes started dragging out, in
my mind they began to turn into hours, then days, and finally years.

With no way to measure
its passing, time did wonders in wearing me down for these goons, not to
mention their boss. With each pass through the conversation, I always kept
stumbling over what the one goon had said about restraints, and every time it
just confused me even more.  “
We know what
you’re capable of even without certain restraints in place.
” Could
he possibly know about my gift or was he just repeating words that Dempsey had
given him?

After a moment’s
contemplation I told myself that it didn’t matter, so I moved on to the next
logical train of thought.  I figured that he wasn’t referencing my
confinement as a whole; his tone had been too… specific for that.  Not to
mention if it weren’t for the seriousness of the predicament this prison would
be all too funny. 
His words had to have been focusing on a particular
piece, but what was it?
 I was fairly sure the drugs, whatever they
were, coursing through my veins had been what he was referencing.  But he
had said “
certain restraints.
”  Restraints, plural, more than one.
 Aside from the cold what else could he have been referencing? If the
drugs were fool proof, what was the reference to restraints?  There had to
be more to it, there just had to be.

The drugs alone couldn’t
constrain me, otherwise, why make use of the freezer?  If the drugs were
as effective as I had made them out to be in my mind, why was I being partially
frozen?  If they were that good there wouldn’t be reason to keep me here,
other than to make me uncomfortable that is.  The drugs weren’t fool
proof, they had their limits. 
Could I overcome the drug’s effects if I
were warm enough?
 That would explain the freezer.  Effective as
the drug might be they needed help, otherwise this prison was simply
overkill.  It was like trying to swat a fly with a cannonball.

After working out what
the guard had meant I analyzed how the information might help me.  To be
honest, I had no idea. But, as I told Bella, I loved to collect random pieces
of information.  While it might appear useless now, if they decided to
move me I would be able to test my theory. 

For now, the information
scared me to death.  One thing I deduced was that Dempsey preferred to own
me, like he did with anyone of value that he could sink his talons into. 
But I would rather have a date with an undertaker than let Dempsey own
me.  Granted I would certainly live longer if I played along, and if I
could not escape right now it might help me eventually find my way clear of the
tyrant.  Fortunately if I had to play along I wouldn’t have to work all
that hard to play along, the threat of certain death is quite the motivator.
 

No, I was fairly certain
that I needed to feign acceptance, for now. Rebellion would have to come later
when I could ensure my escape. But there was a certain part of me that wanted
to fight, and in that vein I attempted, once again, to find a heat source.
After my useless search I was still unable to locate any kind of heat floating
in the room.  I gently rapped my head against the top of the chair and
sighed as I finally acknowledged to myself what I had feared ever since I had
woken up, I had no chance of getting out of this mess.

How could I be valuable
to a criminal kingpin like Dempsey
?  Well of course I
knew how, it wasn’t every day someone of my potential came along.  But was
I really valuable to Dempsey or was that just me wishing he had some reason to
keep me alive?  My guards might have said anything just to get me to shut
up—I was obviously aggravating thug number one. 
Could they have been
lying to me
?

Should I believe what
they had said in the conversation I had overheard
?
Yes. They didn’t know that I was conscious and had had no idea that I could
hear them through the mostly closed door.  Apparently, Dempsey already had
someone like me on his payroll, and more than likely, she was very
skilled.  That being said,
why did Dempsey see value in me? 
These
were the questions that terrified me more than anything. A shiver ran down my
spine, either from the cold or my absolute terror due to my capture.  As
evidenced by my prison, Dempsey knew how to hold someone with my gifts and he
knew how to squeeze them for all they were worth.

As the two goons had all
but admitted I was being drugged, I couldn’t help but wonder what might be
lacing the IVs.  Whatever it was, it had been well thought out and well
crafted.  I began to speculate if it was something designed specifically
for people like me. That was a strange thought. 
People like me, how
many were there?
 For someone like Dempsey I was certain that a drug
like that would be worth just about any price.  I somehow had to figure
out what it was.  But again, that was for the list of things to do after I
got out of here. 

At the moment, I had more
pressing concerns, like not freezing to death, which was proving to be very
difficult.  It would appear that Dempsey had managed to think of just
about everything.  Right now, I could see only one slim chance for
survival and I was hanging all of my hopes on that. I was actually more than a
little afraid to even think about it.  My fear was that Dempsey had
already figured it out and put the kibosh on it, but there was still a chance.
If—and I want to stress that condition—if I survived the night, it would be as
Dempsey’s puppet.  And it would only be for as long as I proved myself
valuable.  That was not a prospect I liked to dwell on all that much,
though to be honest, I also found the idea of feeding the worms distasteful.

But deep down I knew that
if I even hoped to escape this trap, I was going to have to sacrifice something
big.  Right now I was just hoping that the price wouldn’t be too high. 
As I sat alone in the dry coldness of the room, thinking about what I would be
willing to sacrifice, I heard a loud crash.  It sounded like something
heavy had been rammed into the freezer door.  “What’s going on over
there?” I called out.

A curt retort from goon
number one immediately followed my question. “Shut your mouth.”   I
apparently had really gotten under his skin, I wish I knew what I had done to
him.

The man was nothing more
than a mass of heavy muscle and I was about to intentionally antagonize him,
probably not the brightest of moves, but he was really starting to make me
mad.  Forcing as much flippancy into my voice as I could, I calmly
responded, “It sounded like you were breaking something, that’s all. 
Sorry to interrupt your concentration, I’m sure you need it.”

Being blindfolded and
facing away from the door, I was unable to see the goon’s reaction.  But I
could feel his hatred as he stared down my neck and started to growl some kind
of reply. It sounded a bit like, “I told you to…”

My frustration at being
unable to do anything physically made me lash out with the only weapon at my
disposal, my mouth. Or perhaps I was just going crazy as I decided to
antagonize the raging bull.  Who knew, perhaps I would get lucky and get
some blood pumping and adrenaline running through my system. I forced as much
venom into my words as I could. “No I mean it.  I’m really sorry for
bothering you. I’m sure it takes every ounce of your puny brainpower to
complete the task of throwing things around. I would hate to distract you from
such an important job.”

I could hear another
crash only this time it sounded as if the massive thug just let something fall
from his hands.  But nothing came.  I waited and after another couple
of heartbeats I heard goon number two speak, “Relax you fool.  He’s just
trying to get you to do something rash.  And it would have worked if I
hadn’t been here to stop you.  Now, focus on the task at hand.” 
Again I could feel the thug’s angry eyes upon me.  “Marcus, you should
focus more on what I told you earlier.”

He paused and I waited
for him to continue, stubbornly refusing to answer.  After a moment the
thug continued talking as if he had never paused.  “The boss would
prefer
that you are unharmed, but if, for whatever reason, we think you are a problem,
we have absolute discretion to manage you as we see fit.”

As much as I wanted to
continue antagonizing them, I ultimately had to yield to the man’s
thinly-veiled threat.  I didn’t think I would be able to contain myself if
I spoke, so I simply nodded my understanding.

With that he turned back
to his companion and added.  “Just you remember to keep your mind focused
on the task at hand.”  He held his breath for a moment before lowering his
words to a whisper, apparently hoping I wouldn’t hear him.  Thanks to my
concentrated effort my ears were already attuned to their whispered
conversations.  “I wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes if
you went off and did something stupid like that.  Now pick up you side and
let’s get this over with.”

Apparently these two
weren’t happy partners.  I wondered just how short a leash the frothy one
was kept on.  Before I could dwell on this I heard more sounds coming from
behind me. 
What are they lugging in here?
  Whatever it was,
my last vestige of hope was dashed. I had known there was very little chance
that that this meeting was going take place somewhere else, not after all the
precautions that had been taken to keep me secured.  But that hope had
been all I had left.  Now I was going to stay nice and frigid while I
talked with whoever Dempsey sent. A moment later my guess at a table was
confirmed as it was rammed into my stomach.  I figured the thugs were
taking what vengeance they could, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Go get the boss’
chair.”  Number two barked, his voice now coming from in front of me.

As the more level headed
of the two thugs ordered the boss’s chair to be brought in, it occurred to me
that I hadn’t really considered who I was going to be meeting with.  To be
fair, I hadn’t really thought I was going to live long enough to find out, and
to be honest, I still had my doubts on that score.  Up to this point I had
simply ignored comments regarding “the boss.” I didn’t want to consider that I
was possibly going to have a third conversation with Dempsey.  I kept
telling myself that there was no way he would come and talk to me
himself.  But then, that is what I had thought about the tournament and
look what had happened there.  I hoped that I was just going to meet with
one of the crime lord’s lieutenants.  Perhaps this was just wishful
thinking on my part.

From behind me I was able
to hear number one’s return and it sounded like he was struggling with
something.  The boss’ chair must be a rather large and unwieldy piece of
furniture if it was able to give that man trouble. As the two busied themselves
with the chair I heard something else echo behind me.

Clack.

What is that?
 
Behind me I heard a noise that sounded like something tipped in metal was
striking something hard, but not metallic. 

Clack.

The noise was moving
closer. 

Clack.

Whatever was making that
sound was slicing through the air, but there also was something symmetric about
it.

Clack.

There was a rhythm behind
those striking sounds. 
What is causing that sound?
 
What
is that predictable?
 
Could it be coming from a cane?
 
That would make some sense, someone walking with a cane.

Clack.

A cane was a good
indicator of either importance or injury.  But with these two talking
about the boss the way they did an injury seemed just a tad unlikely, and of
course that left me with someone of importance, their boss. 
Had
someone with a cane entered the tournament
?  I started replaying the
tournament in my head, moving back from my victory and towards when I first
walked into the warehouse.

Clack.

Had I seen anyone with a
cane?
  Even if I thought of someone that didn’t mean
this person was the same one.  Of course there was a chance that whoever
this was hadn’t even been at the tournament. I was about halfway through my
memories and had yet to find a glimmer of a cane. 
Apart from injury
who actually chose to use a cane anymore?

Clack.

That clacking was coming
closer, so I sped towards the beginning through the migration to the poker
hall.  There were still the entrances to go through, for some reason I
thought I remembered seeing a cane at the tournament but so far my memory
seemed to be failing me.

Clack.

That time the sound
definitely came from inside the freezer, I could tell from the echo.

Clack.

I swallowed as I sped
towards the entrances of all the players.