Paradise Burns (20 page)

FORTY-THREE

I woke up close
to the entrance of the hospital, which was a good eighty feet away from where I
last remember standing. I was flat on my back staring up at the sky, which was
dark gray with smoke. My entire body felt so hot, I was sure I was on fire. I
looked down quickly to check I wasn’t. I had a painfully loud ringing in my
ears; any noise I could hear sounded hollow and miles away.

My brain was just about functioning,
even if my body wasn’t. I cautiously tried to move my arms, one at a time. When
I was confident I could, I checked the rest of my body for damage. There were
no protruding bones, which was always a bonus. My chest was wet. I felt around
and realized I was bleeding from my mouth and it had been dripping down my
front. I used my tongue to feel inside, which sent a blinding white pain
through my face. I must’ve bit my tongue when the initial blast sent me flying backward.

I tried to move my legs, one at a time.
They worked, so I went all in and tried to stand up. That was a bit too much. I
got up into a crouch before falling over onto my side again - my equilibrium
was fried, so I couldn’t focus on specific directions or objects. I settled for
sitting up, which I just about managed.

The cracked ribs from a couple of days
ago were hurting with renewed vigor. I felt sick, which I figured was caused
primarily by my second concussion of the week.

In the distance, I could hear a lot of
commotion: sirens wailing, people screaming and running in all directions. But
as I looked around me, I realized all that wasn’t happening in the distance, it
was all around me.

I was fortunate, in a way, because I got
blown up in a hospital parking lot. At least I didn’t have far to travel!

I felt hands on my shoulders, which I
immediately tried to fight off. Who tried to kill me? Have they come back to
finish the job? I felt like I was thrashing my arms and twisting my body
violently to escape their grasp, but in reality I was hardly moving.

I quickly gave in and allowed myself to
guided back to the ground. As I lay there, gazing skyward, a face loomed over
me. I recognized it as the nurse from the fourth floor who smiled at me. She
was saying something I couldn’t make out.

I gave up the fight a few minutes later
and closed my eyes. I just needed a little bit of peace and quiet.

I opened my eyes and saw long lights
rushing past above me. I tried to look around and saw a person either side of
me, walking quickly and looking ahead. My head felt like it had been split in
two.

The one on my left looked down when they
noticed me moving. They said something to me that I couldn’t hear, but they didn’t
look frightened or angry or concerned, so I figured whatever it was couldn’t
have been that bad.

I closed my eyes again.

When I came to, I was in bed. I looked
over at the clock on the wall and saw that almost three hours had passed since
I was blown up. I felt a lot better than I did the last time I was awake.

I looked around the room, trying to get
my bearings. The window was on my right, overlooking some trees and, I’m
guessing, the parking lot - I could see lots of flashing lights reflecting in
the window and a thin plume of smoke rising into the evening sky. At the bottom
of my bed against the far wall was a TV, and next to that on the left was a man
dressed in black with a balaclava on, stood holding an automatic submachine
gun. Then there was the door on the left hand wall. There was a metal stand
next to my bed with an IV drip hung on it, which I realized was attached to my
left hand. On the table next to my bed was a...

Hang on.

Window. TV. Man with gun. Door. IV drip.

That’s not right.

I looked over at the man in black. I
could only see his eyes, which were brown. He was stood casually, holding his
gun loose - not primed for action. He waved at me.

What the hell is in this IV?

I slowly waved back with my right hand,
not convinced that I wasn’t hallucinating or something. He walked over to the
door and opened it. He stuck his head out to the left and whistled, then stood
holding the door open. After a few moments, Robert Clark entered the room.

‘Hey there, sleeping beauty,’ he said.

I sighed.

‘Come over here so I can hit you,’ I
said to him, groggily.

‘How you holding up?’

‘Been better. Let me ask you: is that
guy in the black with the gun real?’

Clark looked over his shoulder at the
guy stood guard by the door.

‘He’s as real as it gets,’ he replied.

‘That’s alright then. Thought I was
going strange for a minute.’

‘Adrian, what the hell happened?’

‘I don’t know. I got off the phone with
you, walked over to Clara’s car and it exploded. My guess would be that
Pellaggio’s got a head start on trying to make me dead.’

‘That was a serious explosion, Adrian.
You’re lucky to be alive. I’ve got a couple of guys working on the car now. Or,
what’s left of it at least. It’s a shame – that was a sweet ride.’

‘It really was. Clara’s gonna kill me.’

‘Not if someone else does first. We
think it was a remotely detonated C4 bomb. It had been attached underneath the
car near the driver’s door. From what we can determine, it was set to blow via
a cell phone transmission. My personal guess is that for some reason, our
conversation triggered the delayed explosion early. Your phone must use the
same frequency as the device programmed to detonate it.’

‘Well, they do say cell phones will kill
you.’

‘Look, if this was Pellaggio, you need
to be careful. He clearly has the means to get to you whenever he wants. And he
definitely seems intent on killing you. Maybe you should -’

‘Let me stop you right there,’ I said. I
reached over and took the IV out of my hand, causing a thin trickle of blood to
drip down onto the bed sheets. Then I threw the covers back and swung my legs
over the side. Albeit tentatively at first, I pushed myself off the bed and
stood up.

‘In the last two days, I’ve been shot
at, mildly tortured, shot at again and blown up. I’ve been thrown through a
mirror and had to see innocent people die horribly because of me.’

I walked toward him. He was clearly a
little uncomfortable, which was fine by me. He needed to know who he was
talking to. He needed to know what was going to happen next.

‘You know why they call me Adrian Hell?’

‘Ah, no. No, I don’t,’ he replied, even
more uncomfortable now, as I stood almost nose to nose with him. The man in
black at the back didn’t make a move to stop me.

‘I keep all my anger, and hatred, and
horrible thoughts behind a locked door. If people push me hard enough, they run
the risk of opening that door. And if they do, what they find behind it is
their responsibility to deal with. And God help them. Dark Rain is your problem
now. And, frankly, you’re welcome to them. But Pellaggio has just blown my door
off its hinges. Literally, as well as figuratively. And now?’

My jaw clenched. I could feel the fire
burning behind my eyes and the anger swelling in my gut. Violence was coursing
through my veins, touching every part of my body, filling it with a dark energy
that was bursting at the seams to be unleashed.

‘Now, Roberto Pellaggio will know what
it’s truly like to feel the wrath of my inner Satan. I’m going to rip his whole
world apart. I made him a promise not so long ago, and I aim to come good on
that. This is the only time I’ll give you some free advice, Robert. Stay the
fuck out of my way.’

FORTY-FOUR

After Clark
left, I got dressed and discharged myself from the hospital. The nurses
strongly objected, but they weren’t going to stop me. My hearing was almost
completely back to normal. My tongue had stopped bleeding, although it still
hurt to talk. Luckily, the time for talking has long since past. Wars aren’t
won with words. . . I took some painkillers to help with the cracked ribs and
my bruised back, then made my way outside.

In front of the hospital was still a
circus. It had been a little over five hours since the car had exploded. The
fire had been put out, but there was a still a fire truck on site. The police
were there, along with a forensics team and a bomb disposal unit. The area was
cordoned off, with people milling around in front of the police tape to try and
get a look at what had happened. Then there was a crowd of journalists and
local media trying to describe the scene to the curious masses.

Eager to avoid any kind of attention, I
immediately ducked away to my right as I came out of the main entrance and went
around the other side of the hospital. I made my way down the street, using
side roads and alleyways where I could, to minimize my exposure to prying eyes.

I had no idea whether or not Pellaggio
was aware that I’d survived the blast. Ideally, he’d think I was dead, which
would definitely give me the element of surprise. However, I think we both know
I’m not that lucky. Working on the assumption he knows he missed, I was best
off keeping a low profile until I was ready.

As agreed before I was blown up, Clark
has arranged a little care package for me on behalf of my new friends at
GlobaTech. He’d text me the address - the drop point was a storage locker at
the bus terminal. He’d given me the combination to the lock and confirmed it
was accessible twenty-four hours a day. I was heading over there now.

I knew what I needed to do. I’ll admit I
usually like to take more time to plan an operation - especially one like this
- but I wasn’t waiting any longer. I’m done trying to do the right thing and
play the diplomat between everyone. The door is open and the devil inside is
hungry for blood.

I found my way to the bus terminal and
located the locker. The combination was good. Inside was a black sports bag. I
took it out and put my personal bag in there for safe keeping. I then walked
over to an empty bench and quickly opened it to check everything I needed was
there.

Clark came through. It was all there,
and was all high-end equipment. This is going to be fun.

I zipped up the bag and walked out of
the bus terminal, keeping to the alleys and the side roads like before. I instinctively
touched my Berettas at my back. I was glad I hadn’t left them in the car. And I
was lucky the nurses kept them with my belongings. I suspect that particular
hospital has some extra funding thrown their way from GlobaTech. They seemed
perfectly comfortable with the comings and goings of guns and bullet wounds.

My phone started vibrating. I took it
out and saw it was Josh calling me. I figured I better answer it, despite being
in no mood for conversation.

‘Yeah?’ I said.

‘Woah, you alright big fella?’ asked
Josh, immediately sensing the tone.

‘Aside from being blown up by an
exploding car, I’m peachy.’

‘What?!’

‘Oh yeah, didn’t realize you wouldn’t
have heard. Clara’s Dodge Viper got blown to shit in the hospital parking lot
as I approached it. Figured Pellaggio’s got a head start on trying to make me
dead.’

‘Jesus! You alright?’

‘I’ve got a helluva headache and my ribs
and back have taken another pounding, but I’m alright. Was blown clear by the
blast. Any closer and I’d have been evaporated.’

‘This has to be one of the shittiest
weeks ever. Listen, have you spoken to Clara yet?’

‘No, haven’t seen or heard from her. I’d
gone back to the hospital to check on her, but she’d checked herself out again.’

‘Right. Well, that’s why I was ringing
you - she just rang me.’

‘She did? Is she alright? Where is she?’

‘She’s fine. Was asking after you,
actually. Said she felt bad leaving the hospital without telling you, but
couldn’t sit there and allow Dark Rain to get away with what they did to
Webster. She felt responsible and wanted to do something.’

‘What did you say to her?’

‘Well, she asked what the plan was and
how she could help, so I told her about my involvement with GlobaTech and what
their operation entailed. She said she’ll do some recon and provide me with
intel from the ground, to help me co-ordinate their attack.’

‘Sounds like a good plan. She needs to
watch her back though. Dark Rain is gunning for her just as much as they are
for me.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be fine. Anything she
can give me will be invaluable. So, what are you doing now?’

‘I have a gift from GlobaTech, thanks to
our friend, Bob. I’m going to pay Don Pellaggio a visit.’

‘Is this gift, by any chance, in the
shape of a black bag full of evil?’

‘It is.’

‘And have you used the words
"Inner" and "Satan" in the same sentence recently?’

‘I have.’

‘Oh, bloody hell. I’ll be under my desk ‘til
you’re finished.’

‘That’s probably wise.’

I hung up and continued walking the back
streets of the city. After a good half an hour, walking down a poorly-lit road
just outside the center of the city, I came upon a large house within a gated
property. There were high walls all around, with a security desk to the right
of the large, wrought iron gates. Beyond that was a large, circular driveway
with a massive water feature in the middle. The house itself had three floors,
with a large, stone pillar either side of the front door. There was light
coming from a few windows, but other than that it was in darkness.

The Pellaggio Estate.

I smiled to myself. Goodnight sweetheart.