The Inner Circle (48 page)

The Kid thought about how to answer that. He knew Mason could be a loose cannon. So far he seemed to be doing fine, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t complicate things if he found out his family was inside. Then again, wasn’t it fair to let him know? Didn’t the man deserve at least that much?
 

“Ben decided to speed up the process,” he said.
 

Drew asked, “What does that mean?”
 

“It looks like he got himself caught.”
 

Nobody spoke for a beat. Then Ronny said, “So what does this mean?”
 

“Well, currently I have good news and bad news.”
 

Maya said, her voice hesitant, “What’s the bad news?”
 

“They found his transmitter and destroyed it.”
 

Ronny said, “If that’s the bad news, what could possibly be the good news?”
 

The Kid stared at the computer screen and the yellow blinking dot that was currently moving down a hallway toward the back of the Fillmore.
 

“Ben still has his shoes.”

•
   
•
   
•

T
HEY
FOUND
THE
transmitter in my ear without any trouble. This was pretty much what we had figured would happen. The transmitter in my shoe, however, was a different story.
 

It was the right shoe to be exact, in the heel. It was a larger transmitter than the one that had been in my ear. Obviously I couldn’t communicate with the Kid, but he could hear everything I could hear up to a point. Plus, he could track my location.
 

At least half a dozen black masks had swarmed on me in seconds. They were all men, strong and fit, and they pretty much beat the shit out of me. Not in the Torture Room, of course, nor in the hallway just outside the Torture Room in plain view of everyone. In the Torture Room, they had relieved me of the Glock before carrying me through the hallways to a private corridor. There they tore off my mask, my robe and cowl, and started beating me. One of them was smart enough to pat me down, to even check my ears, and that was how they found the transmitter, which was promptly taken out and destroyed. Then the beating continued, the kicking and punching, which I must admit was uncharacteristic of Caesar’s people. At least I thought so for a setting such as this, but then again, what the hell did the guy getting his ass kicked know?
 

At one point, a loud voice shouted, “Stop!”
 

The kicking and punching stopped.
 

I lay in a fetal position on the ground, my knees held up to my chest, trying to protect my ribs and stomach and kidneys the best I could. After several seconds when I realized tonight’s session of let’s-kick-the-crap-out-of-Ben was momentarily over, I stretched out with a groan and rolled over onto my back. I was angled just right to watch a new black mask approaching down the corridor. This black mask was shaking its head, and as it neared, it took off its mask.
 

“Tell me,” Clark said, “what was the last thing you said to me?”
 

Because I was currently in too much pain, I chose defiant silence as my answer.
 

“If I’m not mistaken—and to be honest, I very rarely am—it was that the next time you saw me you would kill me. And now here we are, with your sorry ass on the floor and me standing over you. What do you think about that?”
 

Again, I chose the defiant silence.
 

“It was a decent try, though, I will give you that. Took more balls than I thought you had. Of course, we don’t know exactly what your plan is, but we do know you have people nearby, watching this place. Do you think they’re going to come save you?” Smiling, he shook his head. “No, of course they’re not. It would be suicide to come in here.”
 

The pain, though still pretty bad, ebbed just enough for me to give up my defiant silence to ask a question.
 

“Is your name really Clark?”
 

“This again? What does it matter what my name is?”
 

“I like to know the names of the people I kill.”
 

He laughed. “You are so fucking delusional.”
 

“You better kill me now, because otherwise I will kill you.”
 

“I highly doubt that. And as much as I would love to kill you right here, right now, Caesar wants us to hold off. He isn’t happy with the scene you just caused. He figures the best way to make amends is to kill you in front of everyone later tonight, along with your friend. Speaking of which, are you ready to see your friend?”
 

He nodded to a few of the black masks, who stepped forward and grabbed my arms and lifted me to my feet.
 

Clark said, “I have to get back now. I’m a professional, and I hate it when I’m interrupted. Don’t worry, though, you and I will be seeing each other again later tonight. In fact, right before I kill you, I’m going to tell you a secret. Something, I believe, that will make dying so much worse for you.”
 

I wanted to say something smart to this, promise some kind of threat, but the truth was I was exhausted. And it wasn’t just the beating, though that didn’t help matters much. These past two years had taken a great toll and I was almost to the tipping point.
 

Without another word, Clark put back on his mask and headed back down the corridor. The black masks started pulling me in the opposite direction.
 

Up ahead, there came a strangely familiar metallic noise.
 

I couldn’t place the noise, not at first. Then we turned a corner and I saw him standing there in front of us, leaning on two crutches. His left leg was the leg that was in a cast, and the cast looked good, like it had been done by professional doctors and not by someone using supplies purchased from Walmart. The Red Sox cap was pulled low as always, and with his head down the only thing staring back at me was the red embossed B.
 

Then Ian lifted his head and smiled.
 

“Hey, Ben. Miss me?”

66

“We don’t have much time to talk, so let me cut to the chase.”
 

“What did you do, Ian?”
 

“Don’t put this on me. Don’t you dare put this on me.”
 

“What did you do?”
 

“It’s not my fault this happened.”
 

I closed my eyes for a second, fighting a raging headache. “I don’t think you clearly understand what the word
fault
means.”
 

“Like I said, man, I only have a few minutes to talk to you, so I’m going to make it quick. You remember the Janitor?”
 

The black masks were still gripping me tightly, but that was it. Clearly they were allowing this conversation to happen. And as much as I didn’t want to talk to Ian right now, I needed to know what kind of damage he’d done. Because while I could hear him, so could the Kid.
 

“What about him?”
 

“It was only a couple of months ago, right? Jesse and Maya working lead, you and me working backup. Where were we headed—Lexington, Richmond, Frankfort? Fuck, I forget. But we ended up stopping for gas. And while you were filling the tank I went to take a piss. The gas station was a pretty shitty one, with the bathrooms off on the side of the building.”
 

“The point?”
 

“That’s where he was waiting for me. Right when I finished up and was headed out the door, this guy was standing there waiting and pushed me back in. He had a gun, and he held it to my head, and he asked where Carver was. And I—I was so fucking scared. I’ll admit it. I was still a newbie and was scared about the whole thing. I mean, fuck, this was my first time out. I was scared shitless.”
 

“Again, the point?”
 

“My first time out I was supposed to be with Carver. But he was sick with the flu or something, so it was you, and I told him that. I said Carver wasn’t there, that it was just you, and you know what he said? The guy said he doesn’t care about the Man of Wax—that’s exactly what he called you—he cares about Carver. And I ... well, I started crying like a fucking girl. I couldn’t help it. I begged him not to kill me, that I didn’t know where Carver was, because Carver wasn’t with us. The guy swore and stuck something in my mouth and told me to call when Carver came out to play again—he actually said that, when Carver came out to play again—and that if I did so Caesar would show me mercy and spare my life.”
 

I laughed. “You think they’re actually going to let you live?”
 

“They’ve been treating me really well. Got my leg here in a proper cast. You know, some real fucking medical attention.”
 

“You’re an idiot.”
 

“No I’m not. I know my worth. I know what they want, too.”
 

“And what’s that?”
 

“Well, what they initially wanted to know was the Kid’s real name, where he lives. But of course none of us knows that except for Carver, so they settled on the location of the farmhouse instead.”
 

My smile faded. “You didn’t.”
 

“I did. Not that I feel good about it, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”
 

“Like betraying Carver.”
 

“What do you want me to say, Ben? I was fucking scared. That thing the guy put in my mouth before he walked out of the bathroom? It was a balled up piece of paper. On it was a phone number. It was actually a pretty easy number to memorize. I flushed it and cleaned myself up and came back out. You asked me what took so long. I said I’d had to shit. You asked me why my eyes were red, and you remember what I said?”
 

“You said it was allergies.”
 

Ian grinned. “Right, allergies. Only thing is, I don’t have allergies. And truthfully, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you what happened right there and then. I meant to. Honest to God. But I was still so new, and I was scared, and I wondered what you would have done if you found out. Like, what you would have done to me. First, I thought you might not believe me. Then I thought you might get suspicious of me. And then ... I don’t know what, but like I said, I was scared.”
 

“Yeah, you’re becoming a real broken record.”
 

“The point is, I meant to tell you. But then I didn’t, and after a while I realized I
couldn’t
tell you, that I’d gone past that point. Because if I did end up telling you then, you’d be even more suspicious.”
 

“So you’re saying that guy was there and he didn’t kill me?”
 

“Again, Ben, he didn’t want you. He wanted Carver.”
 

“He came to you because you were new.”
 

“I know.”
 

“Because you’re weak.”
 

“Shut up.”
 

“Because you’re pathetic.”
 

“Shut up!” His face red, Ian looked at the black masks holding me. “Are you just going to let him talk to me like that?”
 

None of the black masks responded.
 

“Now that they’ve got what they can from you, you’re as good as dead. You at least understand that, right?”
 

“You don’t know anything about these people, Ben. All you know are lies. Misinformation. They’re not nearly as bad as you make them out to be.”
 

“Not nearly as bad,” I repeated. “That right there is a huge boost of confidence.”
 

“Anyway, the whole Janitor thing went south. The guy ended up dying. We couldn’t save him, so we went back home. I kept thinking the guy who approached me in the bathroom would manage to follow us, but he didn’t. I mean, I was confused at first why we ditched the car, and went a long way, but now it makes sense. You guys were always making sure you weren’t being followed. But then I started thinking about what the guy said, how Caesar would show me mercy, and I thought about just how
massive
this whole thing is, and how, realistically, we’re never going to beat them.”
 

“I understand, Ian. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”
 

“It’s not like that.”
 

“Of course it is. You lost faith in the cause, so you sold Carver out.”
 

“
Cause?
What
cause
, Ben? There is no
cause
. It’s just been about revenge for Carver from day one. Shit, it’s been about revenge for all of you.”
 

“Now look who’s misinformed.”
 

“So when the Racist’s game came up, and Carver was headed out, I called that number. I did it far away from the farmhouse so they couldn’t track it. Shit, I forget what state me and Ronny were in when I did it—it was when he was gassing up and I went to get us snacks, from the payphone there—but I called them and that was it. Then everything went to shit, and I felt ... bad. Like, really bad. That’s why I followed you back to the Beachside. I felt bad for what I’d done, and I wanted to make it right.”
 

“Well you’re clearly doing a stand-up job of that now.”
 

“Fuck you, Ben. It’s because of you my leg got broke. It’s because of you I nearly died. Fuck, man, you had no idea who that person on the bike was. Shit,
I
had no idea, even when they dropped me off.” Something entered his eyes, and he said, “Did you ever find out?”
 

“What, and do all the legwork for these assholes?”
 

“I feel sorry for you, Ben. I really do. I feel sorry for everyone back at the farmhouse, Graham and Beverly and Jesse especially.”