Read The Scorpion's Tale Online

Authors: Wayne Block

Tags: #revenge, #good and evil, #redemption story, #hunt and kill, #church conspiracy, #idealism and realism, #assasins hitmen

The Scorpion's Tale (10 page)

BOOK: The Scorpion's Tale
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“Hey buddy,” Nick said. “Were you on the
flight from Milan?”

“Yes,” he replied, not slowing his pace
toward the exit.

Nick yelled after him. “Were you the last one
on the plane?”

The man awkwardly turned around as he
continued back-peddling. “There might be a few stragglers. I was in
the back.”

Nick frowned. What if she didn’t make the
flight? I screw up my whole weekend and she misses the flight!

He sat down and reached for his cell phone,
bracing for an earful from Alberto. How the hell could you lose
her? He wasn’t in the mood to be lectured. Nick took a final peak
down the hallway and something caught his eye. He noticed a
solitary figure making her way toward him. It was a young woman who
seemed disoriented. She was looking in every direction, which made
it difficult to see her face. As she approached, she turned toward
Nick. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he felt his pulse
quicken. She was standing a few feet in front of him. She glanced
at the sign he had placed on the chair and then at Nick.

“Are you Nicholas?”

Nick sprang off his chair and stood at
attention. He extended his hand to the stunningly beautiful woman.
“Yes, but I would prefer if you called me Nick,” he said, as
charmingly as possible.

She returned the smile, which made him melt.
“And I am Giovanna, but please call me Gia.”

They both smiled at each other as their eyes
met and held.

“I’m very sorry for my lateness. I must have
walked right past you, but I had to use the ladies room.” She
smiled again. “Our flight was delayed. I hope you weren’t waiting
long. ”

Nick’s heart skipped a beat. “I called ahead.
In fact, I just got here fifteen minutes ago.” He studied her
perfect face. She had peaches and cream skin, with just the right
amount of olive coloring in her complexion. Killer green eyes, he
thought, and the body is awesome! She was both magnificent and
well-mannered, not the type of woman Nick was accustomed to. He
impulsively glanced at her ring finger and then quickly averted his
eyes without being too obvious.

Gia grinned. “I’m not married.”

Nick blushed. Smart too, he thought. Caught
me with my hand in the cookie jar. Good thing I wasn’t staring at
her tits! He changed the subject and averted his eyes, which were
unconsciously focusing on her breasts.

“You speak English very well.”

“I’ve studied for many years.”

Nick loved how her Italian accent made
English seem like a sexy new language. “Do you have any other
bags?” he asked.

She pointed to a bag on the floor.

Nick took her bag in his right hand and
retrieved her other luggage. He walked back to her, extending the
crook of his left elbow and motioning for her to put her arm
through his arm.

She smiled and slipped her arm through his.
“Grazie.”

“Just think of this as the full service
package.”

They walked slowly toward the escalator. “I’m
certainly looking forward to seeing what you mean by that,” she
said playfully.

Nick laughed as he caught her momentarily
staring at him. He was no longer thinking about Costa Rican hookers
in Atlantic City.

CHAPTER NINE

 

 

Charlie, after collecting his winnings at his
weekly poker game on the sixth floor of his building, called it a
night. As he waited for the elevator to his fourteenth floor
apartment, he wondered whether Steven would meet with Billy
Veeksburn. He never learned whether Billy had actually gotten a
good look at the Scorpion. All he knew was that after that night,
Billy had a lot less of his right ear. Billy maintained his ear had
gotten mangled in a car crash, but nobody believed that story.

Charlie opened the door to his apartment and
flicked the light switch. To his dismay, the foyer light was out.
He made his way deeper into the room toward a nightlight next to
the kitchen sink, and fumbled around until he flicked on the
switch. It provided enough light for him to reach the floor lamp in
the living room. It too, was out.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Charlie bellowed.

“Charlie, perhaps I can be of assistance,”
came a voice from the far corner of his living room.

Charlie shrieked as he looked toward his
living room’s large picture window, which was now completely
obscured by heavy drapes. “What? Who’s …!”

An intense beam of light shone directly into
Charlie’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. The light drifted
slightly to the left side of his face, allowing Charlie a quick
glimpse of its source. A man with a dark-colored cowboy hat was
seated in Charlie’s massage chair. Charlie covered his eyes with
both hands, attempting to block the intense glare.

“Who are you? How the hell did you get in?”
As the initial shock subsided, Charlie was now less frightened and
more indignant toward the trespasser.

“Sit down, my old friend,” said the calm,
soothing voice. “Let us catch up with each other, and then we can
talk business. You are forgetting what I have told you all these
years…patience is a virtue. I live by those words.”

The words felt like ice injected into
Charlie’s veins. His knees buckled slightly as he felt his legs
fail. He sank down onto the sofa next to the broken floor lamp and
tried to speak. Nothing came out of his suddenly parched mouth.
Beads of perspiration formed on his brow and slowly trickled down
his face.

The beam of light slowly panned over
Charlie’s face.

“Ah, Charles, for a moment you had me
worried. I thought you might have forgotten me. But now I see the
recognition registered on your face.”

Charlie sat still, breathing hard and
shivering.

“I happened to be in the neighborhood and I
thought it appropriate to drop in on my old mate.” The man laughed
the same familiar laugh Charlie remembered from the telephone
conversations over the years.

“How? I mean why? I mean, a m-man like you
doesn’t pay social calls,” Charlie stuttered, slowly regaining a
modicum of composure.

“Oh Charles, you used to be more articulate,”
he chided, amused by Charlie’s inability to formulate a coherent
sentence. “Where is the eloquent man I had so admired?”

Charlie said nothing.

“How is your heart condition these days,
Charlie?”

“It was much better five minutes ago,”
Charlie muttered.

He laughed. “Charles, I have heard
interesting murmurs concerning you. Is it true that you had recent
company? I thought I would get information directly from the
source.”

Charlie weighed his possibilities. Of course
it was a trap. The Scorpion, true to his name, loved to toy with
his prey. If Charlie lied, and the Scorpion knew he was lying, it
would not bode well for him. Conversely, if he confessed, he might
be killed anyway.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I’ve had some
interesting company,” he answered as nonchalantly as possible.

The Scorpion pointed the light toward the
floor allowing Charlie to relax his eyes and set his gaze in the
direction of the voice. The first object Charlie saw was a Ruger,
with a custom silencer, sitting in the man’s lap. The Scorpion was
dressed in black and wore a black overcoat. A cowboy hat was tilted
down to obscure his face.

Once the Scorpion was certain Charlie had
seen the gun, he turned off the light. He parted the drapes
slightly to allow a tiny beam of moonlight to filter in. The
moonlight allowed Charlie to see outlines and contours, but little
else.

“I can’t see your face,” Charlie said, hoping
this might better his chance of survival.

“Let us keep it that way. It would be best
for your health if you did not see too much of me,” he laughed.

With little to lose, Charlie grew more
confident. “Does that mean there’s a chance I might get out of this
alive?”

The Scorpion laughed heartily. “Charles, you
really are quite a fellow, and very entertaining. You have been
staring at my weapon.”

Charlie didn’t answer.

“Guns are my passion. Maybe even an
obsession. Some men collect cars. I prefer the shine of a gun. I
have not decided what to do about my old mate, Charles. That will
depend how I feel after our moonlight chat.”

“This isn’t like you. You’ve taken a great
risk coming here. I just left a card game with my friends. They
might knock on the door. There are too many risks,” he repeated for
effect.

Now it was the Scorpion who silently pondered
Charlie’s words.

Charlie felt uncomfortable with the silence,
so he quickly changed the subject. “Can I offer you something to
drink?”

“No thank you, Charles. I took the liberty of
taking some pop from the icebox before you arrived. I hope you are
not offended. Tell me about Steven Capresi.”

“He’s Italian,” Charlie quickly retorted.

“So I am told. Please continue to enlighten
me.”

“He’s thirty-one and he’s in the food
business.”

“What else can you tell me?”

“He once had a lovely family, but now he’s
alone in the world and desperately wants to kill you. But I gather
you already know everything I’m telling you, so what’s the
point?”

The Scorpion cleared his throat. “The point
is to tell me something I do not know about Mr. Capresi. Tell me
something of interest to me. Give me some insight into the man who
is tracking me. I am unaccustomed to being hunted.”

Charlie saw an opening; that chink in the
armor. For some reason the Scorpion was genuinely interested in
Steven. Why, he wondered. He decided to take a chance. “First, you
tell me why you’re interested in
him
? Why do you care?”

“Charles, do you really believe you are in a
position to cross examine me? Always the barrister.”

“Well, you can kill me now, but then you’ll
have no answers,” Charlie shot back.

The Scorpion snickered, enjoying Charlie’s
bravado. It was his easy, confident laughter that unnerved Charlie.
“Touché, my friend. But that is only check–not checkmate.” He
paused to consider Charlie’s question. “Very well, do you mean,
just between two old friends? Why is this man important to me?”

“Yes,” Charlie answered, “just between
friends.” He wanted to place emphasis on their friendship.
Something told Charlie the Scorpion needed to talk, causing Charlie
to believe it was possible he might live to see tomorrow.

“Alright, Charles, I will tell you. I am both
flattered by and fascinated with this man. Flattered, because
nobody has ever set out to track me, especially–n amateur. I am
fascinated, because he does not stand a chance, and yet he
diligently pursues me. That is very admirable. I would like to know
more about him before I kill him. Who knows, I might even give him
a sporting chance.”

Charlie bristled. “What more do you have to
understand? You murdered his family!”

Charlie had been unable to hold his tongue
and immediately realized he may have made a fatal mistake. He
regretted his tone and choice of words. He waited what seemed an
eternity before the Scorpion spoke, all the while continuing to
stare at the motionless gun.

“I see that my actions have deeply offended
you.”

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. This time
he carefully chose his words. “I understand your business. I
understand you’re a professional. But I don’t understand your
actions. I cannot understand the need to kill a small child and a
pregnant woman.”

Charlie waited anxiously for a reply, his
eyes riveted on the Ruger.

“May I assume that most of your colleagues
are displeased with the way I handled my assignment in
Westhampton?”


All
of my colleagues,” Charlie
answered.

The Scorpion released a heavy sigh, as if he
had been burdened for some time. “I do not blame them. I have
thought often about the little girl and her mother. I acted hastily
and foolishly. Perhaps that is why I feel compelled to know more
about the father. Who knows, perhaps I might even get the chance to
explain myself to him.”

Charlie was astounded at what he was hearing.
This cold-blooded killer seemed genuinely remorseful. Was he
seeking forgiveness? Charlie’s fascination got the best of him:
“Why did you do it?”

“I really do not know,” the Scorpion
answered. “At the time, it was instinctive behavior. My reaction
was automatic and based more on reflex than anything else. I have
had time to visualize the scene in slow motion, and have ultimately
realized my incompetence. I see their faces. I made a grave and
unforgivable mistake.”

Both men were silent. The Scorpion seemed
remorseful, but Charlie remained skeptical, if only for his own
survival.

“Even if you were to meet Steven, do you
really believe that both of you would leave alive?” Charlie
asked.

“Stranger things have happened in my
lifetime,” the Scorpion replied. “You seem to like him,
Charles.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I do not have many acquaintances. A man in
my profession is not permitted the luxury of friendships. Although
you and I have only first met tonight, I have always enjoyed our
conversations. You might even say I have become fond of you.”

“Now Charles, I need your help. I ask you,
not as the Scorpion, but as your friend. I want to meet Steven
Capresi and talk with him. I need to know where he is going.”

Charlie considered his options. He knew he
was being manipulated. Charlie did not want to play games. His
choice was either to trust the Scorpion and tell him about Steven,
and possibly live, or refuse him and die. He thought about Steven.
At this point, it really didn’t matter whether Charlie told him
anything. The Scorpion would get his information sooner or later,
with or without Charlie’s cooperation. If there was a chance to
live, no matter how small, Charlie wanted it.

“I sent him to Billy Veeksburn.”

BOOK: The Scorpion's Tale
6.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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