Dead Man's Hand (22 page)

As soon as I was settled,
however, Dante tried to make his escape.  I quickly spoke to his
retreating back, “Excuse me Dante, but do you all still have my coat and
watch?”

Without turning around
the mountain of a man replied shortly, “When we’re out of ear shot of anyone
else, you can drop the act.  We both know neither one of us can stand the
other.”

I somehow managed to keep
a civil tone in my voice as I repeated my request. “What about my coat and
watch?”

“Do I look like your
servant?”

“No you don’t look like a
servant."  I offered in reply. And then I took my life in my hands as
I continued, "But you do look like an inhospitable host.”

The anger was practically
radiating off of him as he muttered the words.  “I’ll see what we have…”

When he reached the door
I thought of something else I was missing.  “I’m sorry but I seem to be
missing my phone as well.”

My words halted Dante’s
motion for a moment before he continued on through the door into the
restaurant. I hoped he was searching for my requested possessions and not a
good place to hide my body.  But there was nothing I could do about it, so
I decided to search the contents of the other envelope. When I opened it the
first thing I saw was a photograph. I removed the photo and caught sight of a
few stacks of cash lying at the bottom of the envelope.  With great care I
laid the photo down on the other envelope before turning my attention towards the
money. 

I pulled out the stacks
of cash and quickly thumbed through them.  To my surprise I found a random
collection of hundreds, fifties, and twenties in each stack.  I would have
to count the stacks in full later, when I was alone.  With a mental curse
I let the money slide back down to the bottom of its envelope and just sat
there for a moment.  There was no reason not to look at the picture, other
than not wanting to know what I was being paid for.  But I knew, if I
wanted to live, I would eventually have to look at the picture, so I swapped
the cash for the photo.

Looking down I studied
the single eight by ten, but the face it contained held my focus.  While
it wasn’t the best photograph I had ever seen, the original picture may have
been of better quality.  But this must have been blown up to take up most
of the room available on the eight by ten sheet of glossy paper.  This was
a surveillance photo plain and simple.  Apparently Dempsey was keeping
tabs on the man, but I knew that I didn’t want to know the why.

My eyes were pulled to
the bottom of the page where I found a few printed words.  I quickly
guessed they were the name that belonged to the face, Mr. Alexis Rene LeBlanc.
 
What did you do to draw Dempsey's attention?
  As I sat there
wondering who the man was and what he possibly could have done to merit this
kind of scrutiny from Dempsey, I eventually turned the photo over.  And on
the other side I saw more text and immediately wished I hadn’t.  What was
there was an address, presumably the man’s home address, along with a simple
command,
take care of the problem
.

As I thought about what
that command implied I almost missed the kitchen door squeaking open.  I
hurriedly slid the photo back into its envelope before turning around to greet Dante
with a smile.  And apparently it came out as more of a scowl because the
man quickly shoved my coat into my arms, hopefully my watch and phone were
inside the pockets.  Seeing Dante’s face I knew that if I was missing
anything else I would simply have to replace it.

I could tell he wanted to
turn around but he must have received a warning to play nice because he held
his ground, waiting in case I had any more requests.  So of course, I
decided to press my luck with a few more questions.  But since I didn’t
want to truly expose my ignorance I needed to lay a little groundwork.  “I
looked at the other envelope.”

I had taken a slight
pause to steady myself but Dante interrupted, his apathy apparent.  “Good
for you.”

I kept my annoyance down
and as calmly as I could manage, asked my question while avoiding his
eyes.  “So what does ‘take care of the problem’ mean?”

“How stupid are
you?”  I flinched at his words but I had expected something like
them.  When I glanced up his face displayed open contempt.

“I’ve always been a solo
act, at least... but that's not important."  Why was I flustered with
the mountain?  I shouldn’t have to explain myself to him, but the words
kept flowing out of me before I could stop myself.  "But I've never
done anything more than a good old B&E.  So no, I’m not entirely sure
what it means.  And since Dempsey said I should ask you any questions, I’m
asking.  What does this mean?”

With a look of disbelief
and frustration running across his features, the man tried to rub them off with
his hands before offering his reply.  “That man has been interfering with
the boss’ business for far too long.  And we've been unable to get to him
using conventional means.  You present a new means by which to remove the
thorn.  So remove it."

I wasn’t intentionally
trying to be thick... okay, maybe a little.  But I wasn’t going to do any
interpretation with this command.  I needed to know exactly where I stood
with Dempsey.  I needed to know what my role was going to be.  So I
probed a little more.  Dante’s expression changed to one of scorn. 
"You need to take steps to ensure that we never have to deal with him
again.”  When I continued to remain silent, Dante spat on the ground right
behind him before asking me, “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“I would genuinely
appreciate it, yes.”  I answered with a vigorous nod of my head.

Disgusted he spat on the
ground again before replying.  “Take him for a long walk on a short
pier.  Send him swimming with cement boots.  Teach him to push up
daisies.  Am I being obvious enough for you now or do I need to draw you a
picture?”

I couldn’t speak, but I
managed to nod in Dante's general direction.  Once I did, he quickly left
me there on the loading dock.  I was numb to the world and it was no
longer due to my stay in Dempsey's frozen cell.  No wonder the man had
been so eager to get a hold of me.  I had the potential to be the perfect
assassin.  I was someone who would never get caught, since I would never
leave any evidence behind.  I pulled the photo out of the envelope just
enough to look down into Alexis’ blue green eyes and wondered if I could do
what Dempsey was demanding of me.  Would my struggle for my life mean
anything if I had to turn into an assassin?  Looking down into those
joyous eyes I did nothing to stem the flow of tears

It was good to be
outside, with the moon and stars looking down on me.  Despite the chilled
air of night I was much warmer than I had been in Dempsey’s freezer.  As I
curled up in the shadows of one of the houses across the street from Alexis’
home, my mind was at war with itself.  On the one hand I was trying very
hard not to think too much, about anything, but most of all about the reason I
was waiting here inside this patch of darkness.  But every time I tried to
push it out of my mind it came tumbling back into focus.  I was here to
assassinate someone.

There in the shadows I
was still trying to rationalize what I was planning on doing.  One part of
my mind, my conscious, kept focusing upon the truth, I was here with every
intention of ending a man’s life.  But of course there was another part of
my mind, which desperately wished to cling to life.  My self-preservation
side kept trying to convince my conscious half that this was Alexis’ own fault. 
Each time my conscious started to complain, it was pressed with a
question.    Why would you intentionally antagonize a monster
like Dempsey?  And with every repetition of these words I grew just a
little more deaf to my sense of morals.  It was a good argument, no good could
ever come from that kind of fight; a fact that I was already learning first
hand.

But just because I was
growing deaf to its arguments, didn’t stop that other voice.  Each time I
heard the rationalization for my actions my fingers reached for the single
envelope that I was carrying.  And each time I opened the envelop I
reached in and pulled the eight by ten photo from its confines and immediately
flipped it over to double check the address on the backside.  At least
that was what I told myself I was doing, there was still just enough light left
in the sky that I was able to confirm that address for the umpteenth time.

I knew why that voice
inside my head kept turning my attention to the envelope, I just didn’t like
it.  But I also knew that I had to be honest with myself, especially with
this.  I wasn’t nervous or worried that I might have the wrong home, no in
fact I had confirmed it far too many times by now to think I had mistaken the
location.  The real source of my unease was twofold, one was the real
reason I kept pulling out the photograph, while the other was Dempsey’s
readiness to take me in.  Which of course only amplified my unease
regarding the photo.  That willingness was uncharacteristic from the man,
the only common thread I had been able to pull from all of the rumors and
stories was his ruthlessness.  He displayed nothing else when dealing with
people who crossed him, especially cheaters.

Needless to say I didn’t
believe Dempsey’s line about sparing my life simply because I was special, despite
his claim.  And the moral side of my mind calling me to spare Alexis' life
gained a little bit of control, forcing me to turn the photo over in my
hands.  Could my abilities give me a little leeway with this?  With
the question fresh in my mind I went from studying the printed address to the
man's face.  And just like every other time, Alexis’ joyous eyes caught my
attention.  Even with the distortion from the enlargement I was able to
plainly see the spark of happiness in those bluish-green eyes.  Studying
the face once more, I noted the same details of Alexis’ face again, and my
self-preservation shouted that it wouldn’t make any difference.  Other
people like me existed, Dempsey would just find another to take my place.

Those cheerful eyes were
framed with shoulder-length blackish brown curly hair that was loosely tied
back.  But it was the man’s smile that unsettled me almost as much as his
eyes.  Just like the joy I could sense from those eyes, I could see
genuine happiness in that smile. Somehow I knew that happiness wasn’t fueled by
a single instance, but rather it had been crafted over a lifetime of happy
moments.  And I knew that the majority of those moments were not ones that
made him happy, rather they brought happiness to others.  Alexis Rene
LeBlanc was indeed a good man.  That pesky side of my brain always kept
coming back with this argument, I had been sent to take care of…  No! I
had been sent to assassinate a good man.

What does that make me?
 
The question hammered at me every time my conscience brought this up.  I
knew what Dempsey was, he was a monster, but I couldn’t answer the question
about myself.  I had begun to wonder if perhaps Alexis deserved to live
more than either Dempsey or myself.  After all, I was the one hiding in
the shadows, biding my time so I would be able to assassinate an apparently
good man.  Well scratch the apparent, I couldn’t keep using that
qualifier.  I have always believed that you could judge the value of a man
based solely on the enemies they managed to collect.  So if a man like
Dempsey wanted a man like Alexis dead, then by that fact alone he was either a
very good man at worst or a saint at best.  Either way, it was clear that
he didn’t deserve to die.

But yet here I was. 
I slid the photo back into its envelope and I let my eyes fall to the date,
which had been printed on the upper right corner of the photo.  Now it was
bad enough that I needed to assassinate a good man, but what made this worse
for me was that it needed to be done tonight.  It was clear that Dempsey
was intentionally making my life more challenging with that inane
deadline.  Yet, the more I thought about it, there was a certain amount of
sense behind such pressure, perverse as it might be.  He needed to know
that he could trust me, and what better way to do that than by giving me a
handful of hours to complete my first task.

At least, I was hoping
that was what it was.  It was either that, or he was placing way too much
stock in what he considered, magic.  And that was another thing I was
having trouble reconciling, his belief in magic. It just didn’t mesh with the
stories I had heard.  But I was absolutely certain that had been the look
I had seen in his eyes.  Belief that magic was real and that it could
accomplish anything for him.

Not that Dempsey's belief
in magic was really all that pivotal to what I had to do at the moment. In the
end my choice was as simple as it was difficult.  Either execute a good
man or allow myself to be executed.  And as selfish as the decision was, I
really didn’t feel like dying today.  Thus, the price for my freedom was
going to be an innocent life and my self-respect.  And the last vestiges
of that principled side of my mind asked the most troubling question.  
Are
you going to be able to live with that?

I promptly squashed the
question because it wasn’t something I was willing to think about. 
Instead, I busied myself with contemplating my “duty” to Dempsey and scanned
the neighborhood again.  It seemed like a relatively quiet night, at least
I was unable to see anyone through any of the windows or on the street so it
felt like a safe assumption.  Especially when I needed to “take care of
the problem”
by the end of the night.  I quickly and carefully
dashed from shadow to shadow.  Each time I reached a new pocket of
darkness I waited for a moment to see if anyone had noticed me.

When I finally reached
the exterior wall of Alexis’ home I searched for the deepest shadows and I
tucked myself away there.  I must have waited for only a few moments, but
it felt like an eternity, and it only gave me another opportunity to think
about the task ahead of me.  Since I doubted Alexis would welcome me into
his home through the front door, I quickly decided to create my own opening,
once I was ready.  I silently placed my hands upon the wall positioning
them just wider than my shoulders.  Now I technically didn’t need to do
that, physical contact was all that mattered, but it did help me focus my body
heat, so it was what I always did.

Closing my eyes I took a
mental image of Alexis' wall, and slowly began to create a hole in the mental
copy of the wall I was touching.  Once there was a hole in my mental
image, I began to make it wider bit by bit until the hole was wide enough for
me to walk through.  As soon as I had it firmly entrenched in my mind, I
began to gather all of the body heat I would need in order to power the
transformation.  Once it was gathered, I channeled it all through the
mental image in my mind, down my arms and into the wall through my fingers. 
And as I opened my eyes, I saw my round entrance there to greet me.

Poking my head through, I
attempted to look around, but the room was too dark to see anything. Luckily, I
had planned for such an eventuality. I quickly quashed the voice that was
screaming for me to abandon this course of action and plucked the cheap pair of
sun glasses that I had purchased earlier out of my coat pocket.  I poured
just enough heat through my mind and into those glasses to force my will upon
the lenses.

It certainly helped the
transformation process when I had a good understanding of what I was
transforming an object into.  But sometimes, a crystal clear purpose was
all that I needed to have, which was the case with this little
transformation.  And to think I had just stumbled upon it one dark day.
Instead of blocking or muting the available light like they were meant to do,
now these lenses would amplify the available light.  Like I said it was my
clear purpose that made this transformation work since I have no clear understanding
of the science behind night vision.  But fortunately, my understanding
wasn’t necessary for me to use them.

I had bought myself about
a minute or two of excellent vision, but I needed to replenish the heat I had
used.  I pulled out the last two hand warmers, opened them, and with
another quick transformation, I made one of their sides sticky so I could
secure them to my arms.  Once I felt their warmth flowing into me, I
quickly ducked my head into the hole and looked around the empty hallway. 
Once I was sure no one was in the room, I entered and resealed the hole behind
me.  Uncertain where to go, I randomly turned right and walked down the
hallway, listening for the anything that would help me locate Alexis.

As I came to the end of
the hallway I started to hear bits of a conversation.  And that was when
the half of my brain that wanted to let Alexis live started back up again.
What
if Alexis has a family?  What if he has children?  What if they are
with him in the room?
  Fear began to build inside of me, and that
voice I had tried to quash in my desire to stay alive began reaching me
again.  This time, it was asking me what I was going to do now.  With
a deep breath I focused on what needed to be done in order for me to live
through the night.

But with every step I
took that pesky little voice kept asking questions.
What if he has
children?  What if those children are with him?
  Again I
chastised myself for the stray thoughts as I oriented myself on the
conversation and started my search.  For all I knew Alexis was alone and
watching TV.  But that little voice was persistent, it was bad enough that
I was being forced to kill one good man.  
Could I kill someone else
just as innocent?

As I was trying to ignore
that rather pointed question I found the source of the conversation, a door
with light seeping out from its edges.  I had to know who was in that room
before I could or would do anything.  I stepped to the side of the door
and placed my finger to the drywall. With another simple transformation I made
a hole in this side of the drywall, about four inches wide.  Then I took a
deep breath and reached through the hole to touch the other side of the wall
and made another hole though this time it was only about an inch wide.

Fortunately I had
remembered to lift the glasses to the top of my head so the light coming from
the other room wasn’t all that blinding.  Holding my breath I examined the
room and was able to make out Alexis sitting on a couch watching
television.  I instantly let out a sigh of relief. 
But why am I
relieved?
  Just because he was sitting in this room all by himself
didn’t mean that he was a single man, it just meant that he was alone catching
up on his television. 
Am I really willing to sacrifice his life for my
own?

Of course that was when
the voice of self-preservation reminded me of something.  Specifically,
what Dante had told me before I left that restaurant,
Alexis had been
getting in the boss' way and it had to come to a close
.  
 If I were to balk at Dempsey's assignment for me then he would just send
another one of his goons to finish the job.  Plus I would have that less
than pleasant reunion with the rather large bullet.  So, the question that
had been plaguing me since I opened the envelope, was once again silenced.

I tried to convince
myself that Alexis' own actions had condemned him, therefore, I wasn’t a
murderer that belonged to Dempsey.  I was only responsible for the
cleanup.  With this thought, the last vestiges of argument were
extinguished. My decision was made.  Reaching into my coat again I pulled
out my trusty pen.  Yes. I went to an execution armed only with a
pen.  But honestly, I could have pulled anything out of my coat and it
would have been the perfect weapon, since it was simply a placeholder for what
I needed.

I have never really
needed a weapon for anything.  My take on the matter was if I needed a
weapon then I was doing something very wrong.  But that didn’t mean I was
a stranger to guns, not in the slightest.  I combed through my memories as
quickly as I could and found the one I needed almost instantly.  A long
time ago I had been given the opportunity to help disassemble and then
reassemble a nine millimeter Beretta.  It was definitely a bizarre
opportunity but then again, it was the type of one that I enjoyed collecting,
you just never knew when some experiences would prove useful.  And now,
for the first time, that experience was going to be very useful.