Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath (26 page)

Bobby narrowed his eyes just a touch, a slight show of surprise.

That’s when I realized Robert Maxim was where the lightning came from. He was the storm of violence I could not escape.  The power of Maxim and his kind reached across the globe and into untold billions of lives. Allowing things to happen, not stopping corruption at its root. Thinking money and power were more important than kindness and compassion. The realization seared across my brain accompanied by a roll of thunder.

“What do you mean?” he asked me. “My knight?”

“From chess,” I answered, the deep rumble fading from my ears. “Or would you have considered Professor Nablestone more of a pawn? Kurt Jessup must have at least been a bishop when he went rogue, killing my brother.”

“I thought you didn’t play chess.”

“I lied.”

He smiled and then laced his fingers together into a steeple. “Hugh is free,” he said. I nodded. “Have you thought about my offer?”

“To have my own department with as many
guests
as I want?”

“You remember.” He held eye contact.

“Do I have to live in Miami?” I asked.

I saw a glimmer of hope in the man’s eyes. “You can live wherever you want. We have offices all over the world.”  He chuckled, “I could see you in Australia, Sydney.”

“Is FGI buying the drugs that Professor Nablestone was developing?”

He smiled. “Can’t you see how in the right hands it could be very useful?” Robert leaned toward me, resting his hands on the edge of my bed. “You used it, against him, didn’t you?”

I sat forward. “I’m not afraid of you,” I said.

He cocked his head.

“You can’t kill me because I am an idea. That’s why you need me.” I leaned even closer, raising a hand out and resting it onto his shoulder. His cologne filled my nose and I enjoyed the mix of sandalwood and salt water. “Maybe I’ll let you have me,” I whispered so that my breath shook the strands of hair around his ears.

He turned to me and our lips almost touched. I felt the slimy reeds of the Everglades trail along my arms. Goosebumps followed. “You can die.” Robert brought his hand up to my throat, closing his fingers around my neck. “But I know you don’t fear death. Coming back to life would be your problem.”

He let go of my throat and sat back. “I know you’re still not well. It’s unclear when you will be. But I am a patient man.” He stood and buttoned his jacket. Looking down at me he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow and we can continue this conversation.”

M
y lack of knowledge seemed astounding. Not only were the last twenty or so days a blank but that evening itself was a total mystery. I thought Malina was going to show up to bust me out. But I wasn’t sure. Mulberry had made no mention of it and I could tell that my brain was not working right.

But if I went with the assumption that Malina was going to bust me out of here tonight, the list of unknowns only grew longer. I didn’t know what time Malina was going to show up, the layout of the floor I was on, how she planned to get us out of FGI headquarters. From the view I could tell we were very high up. There was a guard on my door. It wasn’t locked but when I tried to take a walk he insisted I stay in my room. Doctor’s orders.

Dinner was brought to me by a young male orderly who smiled and asked how I was feeling. He set up the plate at a table in front of the TV and left me there to enjoy. I kept the TV off but ate the food. It was good. Steak and mashed potatoes with a salad. I ate it all and then  the orderly came back and took away the tray. He was almost out the door when he noticed the steak knife was missing. He turned around and smiled at me and asked me to return it. I shrugged like I didn’t know what he was talking about.

He smiled. “They will flip this room if you don’t give it to me. Patients cannot keep weapons. I understand you’re worried about your safety but we are the best,” he said with a reassuring smile. I pulled it out from under my pillow and gave it back.

Lying awake I stared up at the ceiling. There was a glass globe at its center. It was sandblasted opaque white and held in place by brass hooks. It was turned off but I kept the bedside lamp on. While the room shared the androgynous tone of an expensive hotel, the bed with its metal sides and panel of instruments instead of a headboard made it clear why people stayed here.

As I waited for the evening to unfold I sat cross legged  on the bed, head bowed over linked hands and tried to remember. Later, I stood at the window and looked out onto the city, flipping through the cards in my head. Flickering images, crystal clear until the airboat bumped up against that cement dock. I could remember thanking Carl and them loading up their boat but it was fuzzy. Like I was watching it from under water.

I missed Blue. It felt like a wound in my chest. But when I inspected myself in the mirror there was nothing there. My body was pale, strong but pale. Like I hadn’t been outdoors in awhile, eighteen days was my guess. There was more roundness to my hips and arms. This was what my body looked like when I relaxed, when the energy vibrating in me didn’t use up every ounce of fuel I gave myself.

I was covered in healing cuts. The one on my forearm was the worst but my calves and knees also looked like they’d been torn at. Thirty-six hours in the Everglades. Just me and Blue. Where did I get the cigarette from? That couldn’t have been real.

By ten at night I was starting to feel edgy, pacing quietly, feeling Blue by my hip despite the fact that he wasn’t there. There was a knock at my door. I stopped pacing and zeroed in on it. I heard the lock turn and then a nurse, one I hadn’t seen before but wearing the same blue scrubs as the other, stepped in, keeping her hand on the knob. “You okay?” she asked. “Need something to sleep?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

She cocked her head. “All right, you want the TV on?”

“I think I’ll just read,” I said, not wanting the noises from the TV to distract me. It seemed harder to tell what was real when the TV was on.

She left and I climbed into bed, the pajamas I’d been given making me feel like a child. Matching top and bottom in blue pinstripe, it was like a little suit. I had a robe, too. And slippers. I got back out of the bed and walked to the closet. Workout clothing. Not any I’d owned before. Pajamas. Jeans that looked like pajamas. Sweatshirts. Who the hell bought this stuff? Why would I be wearing this? This clothing belonged to an invalid. Why couldn’t they have gotten me in some freaking real pants?

I closed the doors and went back to the bed. Wanting to change so that when Malina arrived I’d be ready but knowing that would seem strange. Then again, how could anything I do seem strange? I’ll tell the nurse it makes me feel comfortable. No, the guard will know. But, he’s not watching me, is he? My brain ran around like this, uncontrolled, garbled, until I decided it was time for some Tai Chi. After all I was wearing the right outfit for it.

Facing the windows I took a cleansing breath and then began, conscious only of where I was in that moment. Feeling each breath wash through me, from my nose, into my lungs, filling my chest, pushing down my thighs, swirling around my knees, plunging past my calves and reaching to the very tips of my toes, bringing every vessel in my body to life, reminding it that we were here now, in this moment, and nowhere else.

Merl would be proud, I thought after four nice forms. My breathing was regulated, mind calmed, and body limber. It was midnight. I decided to sleep. As I laid down I told myself, Don’t dream. Don’t dream. Just rest.

#

M
alina picked me up in a red Mustang. She wore a tight white halter dress that showed off the caramel color of her skin. The car’s top was down and she wore a scarf around her long hair. The nurse pushed me out in a wheelchair despite my protests. “You’re looking pale,” Malina said.

“Thanks,” I said, climbing into the passenger seat, my limbs still heavy and cumbersome but slowly coming back to me. “I feel good,” I said. And I did. I felt ready. “Let’s go.”

She pulled out of the parking lot and entered the highway, swerving between cars, her scarf streaming out behind her. We got off in the warehouse district and Malina pulled into a covered garage, driving up to the second floor and parking next to a black Lincoln with tinted windows. We got out of the Mustang and she locked it before placing the keys under the front tire. Then pulling a second set of keys out of her bag opened up the town car. The interior was all black leather and dark wood. She took off her scarf and threw it over the seat. Turning the car on she drove back down to street level.

#

A
sound at the door woke me up. Instantly I knew it was Malina, that it was time to go. There seemed to be the tinge of electricity in the air. The lock turned and Malina walked in. She was wearing a pair of silk shorts, strappy high heels, and a white blouse that her breasts pushed against.

When she saw me sitting at the edge of the bed, putting my feet into slippers, her eyes momentarily filled with tears; they reddened and her nose swelled. I saw it all from across the room. She turned away from me to close the door quietly and said,“Turn off the light.” I reached across the bed and did as she asked, sinking the room into semi-darkness, the lights of the city still filling the space with a smoky glow. Malina crossed to my side. Up close I could see there was nothing but determination on her face, eyes clear, pouty lips set in a line.

“Stand up,” she said.

My slippers were on so I did, but I was confused by her tone. “Follow me, stay right behind me. Do not-”

I held up a hand. “Malina,” I said, “I think I know how to bust out of a golden cage. Don’t worry.”

“Oh Sydney,” she said, throwing her arms around me.

“I doubt we have time for this,” I said, embracing her back.

“They told me you were back but that you might not be when I came. I just, I hoped so much you’d be here.” She pulled back from me, trying to control a smile. “We are going up to the roof, a helicopter is coming for us,” she explained, remembering the serious nature of her visit.

“Great,” I said. “Obstacles?” I asked as I headed toward the door.

“I took out your guard-” When I cocked my head in question she shook hers a little to tell me she didn’t have time to explain and continued. “The nurses, but I don’t think they will try anything.” I nodded. “And the two men on the roof,” she said, her hand on the knob.

“Armed?”

“Of course.”

“What did you bring?”

She smiled. “My charm and a dart gun. Also, I don’t think they can shoot you without Bobby killing them.”

“We’ll find out,” I said. “You lead the way.”

Malina nodded and I pulled open the door. The hallway was silent and my slippers made soft padding noises. Malina’s cork wedges were almost as silent. As we reached a T in the hallway I heard the sound of two women talking. Blue’s low growl came to my ears and I slowed my steps. Malina pointed to the left and mouthed “nurses”. She pointed right and we slid against the wall. Malina peeked left. I couldn’t see what she was looking at so when she waved me on I took it at blind faith that it was time to go. Malina dipped around the corner, staying close to the wall, her stride long but quiet.

I glanced left long enough to see the edge of a counter, one arm resting against it, the rest of the woman out of sight. Then mimicking Malina’s gait, I followed her down the hall. She ducked into what I thought was a hallway leading left but turned out to be an alcove with large elevator doors set in it. Malina pulled a key out of her pocket and turned it in the wall. A soft whirr announced the elevator’s imminent arrival.

The doors swooshed open revealing a space large enough to carry twenty people or two people on gurneys along with their attendants. We got in and Malina turned the key in the lock noted as for fireman use only. The doors closed and we started up.

“Where are the guards?”

“Not sure. I’m going to pretend to be a prostitute sent up by Murphy.”

“Murphy?”

She looked over at me. “Your guard.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll take the first one into the bathroom, knock him out and then come back for the other.”

“What do I do?”

“Hide in the ladies room?”

“Are you joking?”

Malina bit her lip. “When we came up with this plan you were comatose.”

The elevator stopped. “Best to stick to the plan,” Malina said as the doors opened. She stepped off and I followed. We were in a brightly lit hallway. Malina pointed to a ladies room sign. “Fine,” I said and pushed through the doors. The bathroom was painted white with white tiles and two wooden stalls. Close to the door was a wooden bench. I sat on it and listened to one of the toilets running, it reminded me of something and I tried to ignore the thought, hoping it would ping into my mind.

I heard Malina’s laugh and then the door of the men’s room opened. One of the hinges needed oiling. I stood up and walked to the wall the two restrooms shared, placing my ear against the cool drywall. More laughter, a grunt, a stall door slamming open and then silence. I stepped to my exit and pushed the door so that I could see the men’s room entrance. It opened wide and Malina stepped through, not even throwing a glance in my direction. I moved back into the bathroom and waited again.

How was she going to pull this off? The second guy wasn’t going to come that easy, and had she hidden the first guy well enough? Have faith, I thought, but then I heard gunfire. I was halfway to the glass doors leading out to the helipad by the time I realized I’d left the bathroom. Slamming through the doors I scanned the rooftop wildly. Malina was there, her hair whipping in the wind, the body of a man at her feet.

#

A
spotlight hit her, and looking up I saw a small helicopter approaching. The rotors ripped through the air, sounding like thunder on the rooftop below. Malina grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the craft, her head low. I hunched over, copying her pose. Staring at the concrete I squinted my eyes against the dust blowing up from it.

The wind under the blades made it impossible to hear but Malina climbed aboard and then pulled me up alongside her. She pushed me into a chair and fastened my belt, the tip of her tongue poking out, her brow furrowed.