True Conviction (6 page)

“Not your standard security detail, I’m sure you’ll agree,” I continue, turning back to Jackson. “So, come on… who is she?”

He looks me right in the eye and I can see his inner torment. He wants to tell me everything, I can see it. He’s your typical, sleazy businessman—out to make as much money as possible, but self-preservation always comes first. His instinct is to do whatever he can to save his life, but there’s still something stopping him. Something he apparently fears more than me.

He should really fear me more…

In one swift movement, I stand and use my free hand to throw the table in front of me across the room. The spontaneous, violent act takes Jackson by surprise. He gasps in shock, and without warning, I shoot him in his other foot. He screams and blacks out.

“Oh, Teddy…” I say. “Now that’s just embarrassing.”

HAPPY THAT JACKSON will be absolutely terrified of me when he wakes up again, I turn my attention to our mystery woman. Despite the commotion, she’s remained silent, but shooting Jackson again clearly took her by surprise as well. I can see her thinking… assessing her situation, trying her restraints, looking around the room, and finally coming to the realization that she’s screwed. She relaxes back in her chair and looks at me, clearly opting for a different approach to her situation, just like I would.

“I can’t believe you hit a woman,” she says, eventually. She doesn’t sound pissed off—well, no more than anyone else would be after they’d been elbowed in the face. I think she’s toying with me, seeing what reaction she can get. I know the tactic very well.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I say, before stopping myself from apologizing further. “Actually, I’m not—you had a gun on me so you deserved everything you got.”

“I only had a gun you because you were going to try to kill the guy I’m supposed to protect.”

“Well, I was only going to kill him because he screwed a gangster out of millions of dollars.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright then!”

She wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out, and I find myself thinking we probably sound like a pair of bickering siblings. To be honest, we sound like Josh and me…

“Why
are
you protecting him anyway? What makes him so special?”

“I’m just following orders, like you.”

“I don’t follow orders. I don’t answer to anyone—a benefit of being self-employed.”

“Are you always this argumentative?”

“Are you always this much of a bitch?”

“Oh, your words cut me like a knife...”

“There’s no need for sarcasm.”

“There’s no need to tie me to a chair!”

“You had a gun on me!”

“What,
that
again? Get over it, you pussy.”

I sigh. What is it with this woman? I don’t particularly want to shoot her, but she’s testing the restraint of my trigger finger while pitching her tent on my last nerve.

“Enough,” I say. “You’re going to answer my questions or I’m going to shoot you in the face. Understand?”

She says nothing, but raises a quizzical eyebrow—either to show she understands, or to silently call my bluff. I assume it was the former, because I don’t bluff.

“What’s your name?” I begin.

“Does it matter?” she replies.

“Yes.”

She holds my gaze for a moment. “Fine, my name is Clara Fox.”

“Thank you. Okay, Clara, who do you work for?”

“Right now?” She motions with her head to Jackson, who’s still slumped in his chair next to her. “Him.”

“So, what, are you freelance?” I ask.

“I go where I’m told to. I don’t ask questions.”

“That’s a weird answer to a perfectly straightforward question.”

“Take it or leave it, I don’t care.”

“Do you know why you’re protecting him?”

“Yes.”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

She sighs. I don’t think she’s losing patience, as such, I think she’s just unhappy because she doesn’t strike me as being comfortable when she’s not the one asking the questions. I don’t know what it is about her, but I actually kind of like her. Not in
that
way. I just think she’s a… kindred spirit.

“My assignment was to protect Jackson while he closed a business deal between our respective employers for the sale of a plot of land in Heaven’s Valley. We knew that the local mafia had been involved in a previous deal to buy up the land, so we assumed there would be some comeback. I was assigned to Jackson to make sure he remained safe while he finalized the deal.”

“Would this deal be with Dark Rain, by any chance?”

She frowns for a split second, looking both surprised and confused. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to know that and I can see her trying to figure out how I do. But she quickly composes herself again and merely shrugs, as if it’s not important information.

“Yes,” she replies.

“And you don’t know why the original deal was cancelled by Jackson?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I do what I'm ordered to do. If I need to know something, I'll be told.”

“You’re the consummate Army brat, aren’t you? Tell me, where are you from? Your accent’s very... multicultural.”

She smiles, like she’s flattered that I’d noticed. “I was born in Russia. My father was a soldier and died when I was a little girl. My mother was a Swedish nurse and we moved to America when I was seven.”

“Well, you sound great. You should work in a call center or something.”

“I’d kill my boss within minutes.”

I can’t help but smile. “I don’t doubt it,” I say.

There’s a moment’s silence, which is interrupted by the groans of a man regaining consciousness after being shot for the second time in the last hour.

Jackson looks groggy and he gazes around the room slowly like a man with a bad hangover. He looks at Clara, who’s staring at him curiously. He turns to me. I’m also staring at him, but I have a gun aimed at his head.

I turn to Clara. “Be right with you, honey,” I say.

She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily.

I smile, satisfied I’ve wound her up enough, and turn back to Jackson. “Teddy, so nice of you to join us. Clara and I are just getting acquainted. She’s lovely, don’t you think?”

He groans, clearly in pain. “What do you want from me?” he asks, sounding fatigued and beaten.

“I want you to answer a few questions, completely and honestly.”

“P-please don’t sh-shoot me again,” he begs.

“I can’t promise anything, Ted, because you’re an asshole. But, if you do as I ask, you’ll be giving yourself the best chance you can of avoiding a third bullet.”

He takes a moment and I can see him weighing up his options in his head, searching for one last Hail Mary plan that will ultimately save him. I watch, somewhat pleased with myself, as the realization of pending defeat finally dawns on him.

“Wh-what do you want to know?” he says eventually with a sigh.

“Finally…” I say. “Okay, first question... Why did you revoke your offer to Pellaggio without telling him?”

He hesitates, which isn’t a very good start.

“Ted, don’t even think of lying to me.”

“I... I can’t tell you. They’ll kill me.”

He glances at Clara as he speaks. It’s just a quick look, but I spot it and look at her.

“Are you going to kill him if he talks to me?” I ask.

She stares at me blankly, like I’m an idiot. She’s really good at looking at me like that… and I don’t care for it.

“I’ve just finished telling you I’m meant to protect him. Why would I kill him?” she says.

I sigh again. I’m going round in circles here and I’m starting to lose my patience. I’m wasting time… I maybe need to take a slightly more drastic approach. I stand and walk across the room, picking up my silenced Beretta from over by the door where Clara had thrown it earlier. I check the magazine out of habit as head back over to them and stand behind Jackson. I extend my arm over his shoulder and past his head, so my gun appears in his line of sight. I then fire four bullets at the sofa in front of us. Each one causes a small cloud of white stuffing to erupt from the pillows.

See, what most people don’t realize is, when you fire a gun the barrel gets really hot—a result of the mini explosion that initially propelsthe bullet out
.
So, after four shots, the barrel is so hot you could fry an egg on it.

The shots terrify Jackson, who’s opened his mouth in a silent scream. Without warning, I place my gun on the side of his neck and hold it there. His silent scream turns into a very loud, guttural one. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clara squirming uncomfortably in her seat at the low hissing noise causes by his flesh smoldering from the heat.

I give it seven seconds before removing my gun. I walk around and crouch down in front of him.

“Teddy, I swear to God, I’m going to make you tell me everything I need to know,” I say, matter-of-factly.

I gesture to his neck with my gun. The skin has blistered and burst, leaving him with blood and puss oozing down his shoulder and chest.

“
That
was nothing compared to what I’m both capable of and willing to do to you.”

Jackson starts crying and I put the barrel of my gun near his neck again, to give him further incentive.

“Okay, okay!” he yells. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“That’s the spirit,” I say smiling. I stand and sit back down on the bullet-ridden sofa, gesturing with my hand for him to speak. “In your own time…”

He sighs and composes himself, occasionally wincing from the pain, which I assume by now he’s feeling pretty much everywhere.

“I saw that GlobaTech Industries had this land on their books that they weren’t doing anything with,” he begins. “I’d read about Pellaggio’s plans for expansion in the area and I approached him with the deal so I could make some money on the side. I didn’t think for a second that GlobaTech would notice. The land had been purchased for next-to-nothing over seven years ago.”

“So you wanted to make a sneaky bit of cash? Makes sense,” I say. “So why pull out at the last minute?”

“A few days ago, one the directors assigned me to a new project with a militia organization called Dark Rain. It was off the books, which was why I’d found no record of the land being part of it. The project was being overseen by a small division within GlobaTech that worked outside of the standard protocols and operating guidelines. This project required the use of the resources found on that land, and it was my job to set things up with Dark Rain. I had no choice but to walk away from Pellaggio’s deal. I knew I was causing myself problems with the mob, but I also knew that I'd be protected by this deal, so I went along with it and kept my mouth shut.”

I look at Clara, who I can see already knows some of what Jackson is saying, but is either confused or disinterested with the rest. I look back at him.

“What do you mean when you said ‘the resources found on that land’?” I ask.

He sighs, momentarily reluctant to continue, but knowing he has no choice. “That land sits on top of the only natural uranium deposit in the United States.”

Huh…

Well, I did
not
expect that.

A private military contractor and a militia organization working together to mine Uranium on U.S. soil… what could possibly go wrong there?

For the first time today, words fail me. All accept two...

“Holy shit.”

SILENCE DESCENDS ON the room as I’m left reeling from the bombshell Jackson had just dropped.

Perhaps
bombshell
isn’t the best choice of words, under the circumstances…

I do my best to gather my sense again and I aim my gun at Clara who, if I’m honest, looks as shocked as I am.

“Tell me about Dark Rain,” I demand.

“I don’t know much about them,” she replies, somewhat absently. “They only recruited me a couple of years ago.”

“What are they planning?”

“I don’t know.”

I put my gun an inch away from her forehead. “Don’t lie to me, Clara.”

She remains calm, but her eyes betray her concern. “I honestly have no idea. My mission was to protect Jackson and keep him safe. That’s it.”

She’s very matter-of-fact about it and my instinct is to believe her. I’ve already concluded she’s good at her job, but I get the impression she got the short straw assignment because she’s relatively new to this Dark Rain outfit. Plus, the look of shock on her face when Jackson mentioned the Uranium was genuine. I turn back to Jackson and put my gun against his forehead instead. He starts crying again.

“Ted, you gotta start talking. Uranium? What’s the big picture here?”

“W-we were going to mine it and then process it in one of our labs.”

“Process it, how?”

“We’d use gas centrifuges to enrich the material highly enough that it becomes weapons-grade.”

“Weapons-grade? As in, the stuff that goes in nukes?”

“You could use it in nuclear bombs, yeah. Having control of our own deposit meant we could sell it on for a hundred percent profit. GlobaTech approached Dark Rain after learning of the mine’s location and proposed the operation.”

“So, you were going to sell the land to Dark Rain but do all the mining for them? That doesn’t make any sense. If they owned the land, wouldn’t they technically own the Uranium? Why would GlobaTech offer to sell something on someone else’s behalf?”

“The United States and Russia set up a joint program back in ‘93 to convert all highly enriched Uranium into nuclear fuel. Ever since then, practically all weapons-grade material has been disposed of. We saw an opportunity to fill a massive gap in the market.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’d give it to Dark Rain?”

“Having weapons-grade Uranium isn’t exactly legal. If they owned the mine, they would have liability.”

Ah... I think I’ve figured it out now.

“So you offered to do all the mining and processing and selling to make it look like you’re doing them a favor—but you were just setting them up to take the fall while you reaped the profits?”

He shrugs. “That was the plan.”

“Christ, is there anyone you won’t screw over?”

Jackson shrugs again. “It was simply too much money and too good of an opportunity to overlook.”

“But you essentially gave an underground militia control of a Uranium mine!” I say. “Is the almighty dollar so important you’d risk the lives of millions?”

“Says the hired assassin?” he laughs with desperation.

“Don’t try and lecture me on morals, Teddy, this really isn’t the time.”

We fall silent and I find myself trying to think of a plan that would allow me to make all this right... You could argue it’s not my place to get involved, but… think of the consequences if nuclear weapons are manufactured on U.S. soil and sold on the black market. Or worse… imagine if somebody detonated one? If I could’ve done something to prevent that and didn’t, I’d never forgive myself.

“Has the deal for the land been finalized yet between GlobaTech and Dark Rain?” I ask him.

“That’s what I’m in town for,” he says after a heavy breath. “I’ve got all the papers with me, I just need to sign them and the land’s sold. Then mining can begin with no liability to GlobaTech.”

“And does anyone have any idea what you personally were intending to do with the land before you were brought on board to broker this deal for GlobaTech?”

“No, I covered my tracks well enough, I think.”

“You were just shit outta luck, right?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he says, gesturing toward me with his head.

I walk over to the desk he was working at earlier and pick up his briefcase. The same one handcuffed to him yesterday. There’s a combination lock on it. I look over at Jackson.

“What’s the code for this?” I ask him.

“Six, eight, seven… three, four, nine,” he reluctantly replies.

I lie it down on the bed, enter the code and open it. Inside are documents relating to the land purchase resting on top of a quarter of a million dollars in cash.

I spin it around so they can both see the contents and walk over to them both. I stand in front of Jackson and aim my gun at his head, nodding over at the briefcase.

“Is that everything?” I ask.

He nods.

“And I suppose it’s too much to ask for you to have any information to hand about Dark Rain?”

“I never dealt with them directly,” he explains. “My only contact with them is through her.” He gestures at Clara with his head.

“Okay, fine,” I say. “So to recap: your company, GlobaTech, is selling land that has a Uranium mine underneath it to some militia outfit called Dark Rain. They think you’re being really nice by handling all the mining and processing of the material itself, but they actually have no idea that you’re setting them up to take the fall for everything, freeing you guys up to sell the material and make loads of money...

“Before all that, however, you were going to sell the land to the mob to make some extra cash. At the time, you had no idea what the land actually was, but now you do, and your company has charged you with managing this new deal, you’ve had to back out of the old one, which has caused the mob to hire a hit man—that would be me—to kill you for screwing them over. Have I missed anything?”

Jackson lets out a heavy sigh. “Nope, that’s pretty much it,” he says.

“Excellent.” I pull the trigger and put a bullet directly in the center of his forehead.

The bullet itself is roughly ten millimeters in diameter, which is about half that of a dime. The tip of it is rounded for easier penetration. It travels at a speed of roughly three hundred and seventy-five meters per second. As the bullet impacts, the velocity causes the end of the bullet to shoot up to the tip, which means it flattens out to almost double the width. Consequently, the resulting exit wound much larger than the point of entry.

Jackson’s head snaps back violently as the bullet pushes its way through the thick bone at the front of his skull. The recoil of the impact causes his head to hang forward again as the bullet works its way through his brain and out the other side.

A spray of pinkish fluid—a mixture of blood, bone and brain—explodes over the floor behind him. From my finger squeezing the trigger to the dead weight of his lifeless body sagging in his seat against his restraints, just under one second has elapsed.

I let out a small sigh. Job done.

I look at Clara, who seems unfazed by it, but I can see her thinking of ways to avoid suffering the same fate. If I’m honest, I have no intention of shooting her. But it won’t do any harm to keep that to myself for the time being.

I walk behind her, careful not to step in the bits of Jackson splashed across the carpet. I remove her restraints and aim the gun at her.

“Okay, Clara,” I say. “Get up, nice and slow, and move over to the desk.”

She does.

“Now ring down to the front desk and tell them Mr. Jackson has decided to extend his stay, and will need the suite for another three nights.”

She does.

“Now sit on the bed,” I say, after she hangs up the phone.

She sits and looks at me, like a child preparing to be reprimanded by their parent.

“Right… Clara, this is make or break time for you. Tell me everything you know about Dark Rain.”

She looks at me with her dark green eyes, filled with conflict. She says she’s been with them for a couple of years, but given this Uranium thing seems as new to her as it is to me, my guess is she’s now re-evaluating her association with them.

“Like I said, I don’t actually know much about them,” she begins. “They recruited me a couple of years ago after some work I was doing over in Sierra Leone. I met a guy over there who said he was with an organization that had money and plans and they could do with someone like me... The usual sales pitch, I guess.”

I’m actually beginning to feel sorry for her. It’s pretty clear that she’s been blinded by the promise of money and made the rookie error of not finding out who she was going into business with before signing on. And I can tell she’s starting to realize that herself.

Her voice practically a whisper; the confidence and presence she’s had throughout all this has gone. “I started out doing a few jobs for them—nothing major. Then a few weeks ago, I was finally introduced to their leader, a former Colonel named Roman Ketranovich. He said he was impressed with the work I’d done for them already, and that I’d proven my dedication to their cause.”

“And what
is
their cause, exactly?” I ask.

“I’m not sure what their endgame is. But they’ve got the numbers and they’ve got the backing to do whatever they want. The Colonel is fanatical and he believes everything he’s doing is right—to hell with the consequences. His followers are completely loyal to him and his ideals. They would die for him without hesitation.”

“And what about you?”

“I was there for the money,” she shrugs. “I’m a killer, not a monster.”

“I can relate to that,” I say, with a half-smile.

“He told me I needed to protect someone for a couple of weeks. Said he was important and was doing Dark Rain a great service. I had no idea they were involved in something that could lead to nuclear weapons. That’s more heat than I can be paid to deal with.”

I nod. I believe her. “Good,” I say. “That makes this next part a bit easier.”

I walk around the bed toward briefcase. I take the documents out of it and close it, throwing it over to Clara. It lands next to her and she looks at it, confused, before looking back at me.

“I’ve got what I came for,” I say, waving the documents in my hand. “In that briefcase is quarter of a million dollars. Take it and walk away.”

She looks shocked, not expecting such kindness after seeing me shoot Jackson in cold blood. I can see her doubts, so I figure I should try to put her mind at ease.

“Jackson was a job, nothing more,” I say. “The whole thing has obviously got a bit messy, and I’m going to do what I can to sort that. As far as I’m concerned, all this is now
my
problem. I don’t see it as being yours as well. It sounds to me like you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I have no desire to hurt you. But you need to walk away. Now. Take this money—I’m sure you’re resourceful enough to put it to good use.”

She looks at the case again, then back at me. She smiles. Not her mercenary, ready-to-kill-you smile. But, as best I can describe, a girly smile. But it fades as quickly as it appeared.

“I’ll never be able to hide from them,” she says. “The Colonel won’t allow me to leave. He’ll see it as treason and he’ll order me killed if I even try.”

“Then help me,” I say.

“What, you can’t manage on your own?”

“Well, I’ve very recently found myself the proud owner of a Uranium mine that’s wanted not only by an extremist army that has funding from a private military contractor, but also a very powerful mob boss who's determined to get the land to build a casino on it—except
he
has no idea it has a Uranium mine underneath it... Obviously this outstanding set of circumstances is nothing I can’t handle, it’s just nice to have some company, y’know?”

“Uh-huh… sounds like a walk in the park—I’m sure I’d only slow you down…” she says with a smile.

I smile back and it feels like everything that’s just happened has been forgotten.

Hang on a sec…

I don’t know what made me think of it, but earlier today when I came out of Manhattan’s club, there was that leather-clad biker who sped off as soon as they saw me. I know a tail when I see one, and after everything she just said, I assume that was Clara… but that was
before
I’d found anything out about Dark Rain. If she was following me then, that means they knew who I was all long, and why I was there, long before I’d heard of them.

How is that possible?

Clara’s smile fades as she sees the expression on my face change. I aim my gun at her. “How did you know to tail me this morning?” I demand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies defensively. “I wasn’t tailing you this morning, I was with Jackson. Besides, I’ve only just met you.”

“Bullshit. You knew I was outside the door before.”

“I know, but that’s only because I’ve been expecting an attempt of some kind on Jackson ever since I was assigned to protect him. Why else would he
need
protecting? Plus, your bell boy routine was so transparent it was embarrassing.”