Chapter 42 - Traitors II

   An influx of what an ordinary person would think of as big and important people, started streaming into Bermuda. They contrasted sharply with all the tourists. For one? These were all men. And unlike rich men on Bermuda vacations, they mostly didn't have wives, girlfriends, mistresses with them. Instead, they had assistants and security professionals. They all flew by private plane only. I was thinking that was a normal status symbol that you hadn't just arrived, but had clearly really arrived? When Panic pointed out the obvious to me.

   Stories and conspiracy theories abounded. This or that commercial jet airliner? Had been downed for this or that reason. You know, this one guy was on this one airliner that disappeared and it took them forever to locate the downed aircraft. He just happened to be traveling with three other partners. Them going down? Just happened to leave this other partner... owning everything. And we're talking billions of dollars worth of corporation.

   Like Panic taught me. You'll never know for sure, you'll never prove it. But? If you read between the lines, some of these conspiracy theories are likely right on the money. These guys? All seem to not want to take that chance. As well as, what the hell. They have that kind of cash, so why not.

   I mean, it makes sense. Hand a guy a couple million. Of course he's going to own at least one nice sports car, its practically a given. Now hand a guy twenty or thirty million. Yeah, sport jet. Unfortunately, it also makes perfect sense? That some of these conspiracy theories are true. After all. We do live in this world. The best world of all possible worlds.

   These were all big investors in the group Francois led. They came to pay their respects. See what there was to see. About every other one, headed to the police station. They expected to hear what was being done about it. Me and Panic were with Vladimir. Yuri's proxy. He moved among these high powered men as if he was one of them. I could tell from body language and tones of voice. No one was entirely taken by the lightning strike on a calm day out of nowhere story.

   One of them quipped wise about it.

   "Oh. What the hell. An anonymous call, and all of a sudden... that becomes the official story. Why didn't I think of that. Hey guys. Let's get together? And fund the assassination of a political leader somewhere, cause we feel like it. Don't worry. I'll just put my silk tie over the mouthpiece of a pay phone. Hey, I saw aliens kill the politician. Oh, then that's what happened."

   Vladimir introduced Panic to most of them that spent any time with Vlad. I caught their eyes. One glance that caught the golden sword he wore? Warm handshake. Other hand over it, to make it more sincere and personal. One that had a Russian accent that sounded similar but not exact to Vladimir's own accent? Asked off the cuff.

   "And. Is this being looked into, I trust."

   Vlad nodded.

   "Don't worry. It is. I'm almost on top of it."

   The man nodded.

   "You need, anything? Do not hesitate, to ask. I will only be insulted, if you do not ask. And? Give Yuri my best."

   "I promise? I will. On all counts."

   Not many of them questioned Panic at all. A few, but Vladimir waved his hand.

   "Francois? Personally picked him."

   It produced a knowing nod. Apparently? Francois did that. I wore Joan's golden sword as well. It rested on my choker, to lay across my emergency tracheotomy scar.

   The Russian who seemed closer to Vlad than some others, spent some time with him. They toasted Francois, with a finger or two of vodka. Each nodded sagely. Killing him? Accomplishes nothing. It can't be stopped. All bets? Are down.

   "Vladimir."

   "Yes?"

   "Do you know, a... Svetlana."

   "In Russia, there are many... Svetlana. Could you be more... specific, perhaps."

   "She has been calling people. She obviously, knows people. These are not cellphone numbers? That are handed out easily."

   "I see. What is the nature, of... the matter."

   "No one knows. All that I hear? Svetlana. I must get to talk, to Vladimir. Yuri's Vladimir. Only him. It is important."

   "I am not sure, that---"

   "Svetlana, that is now with... Sergei."

   "Oh. That Svetlana. It, has been some time."

   "Well? Can she be given your number? Or, what are we to do."

   "I must take call. It sounds important."

   "You are trusted, Vladimir. The fact, that she is with Sergei? Will... not reflect, on you. Your focus, and dedication? Are above question. I will say, however. Due to the nature, of Sergei, being who he is. You will understand, if people will expect... explanation. And? No offense, is to be taken."

   "If, people were not concerned, with anything to do with Sergei? I, might question their wisdom."

   "You are a good man, Vladimir. And good men? Are difficult to locate. You have our faith and trust. As if? Yuri were already here. And do not worry. Yuri will soon be at his liberty. And? You will not be forgotten. I, was very sad to learn of Francois, and of course his wife. But? I was again happy, when I learned that you were... scuba diving. And were spared."

   He gave the man a number for Svetlana to call.

   "I will not be one second off of the phone? And you will be my next call."

   "You are trusted, Vlad. What you report? Will not be questioned."

   A couple of hours later, Vladimir got a call. He went away, to gain privacy. When he came back? He had a somber look.

   "That, was Svetlana."

   "What's the big deal, about Sergei."

   "Sergei? Is, other team. He is one of The Bitches."

   Panic nodded.

   "Oh."

   Vlad nodded back.

   "Yes. Is, highly irregular. But? I am not communicating with Sergei. Only? With one of his women."

   Anything important? Or, is it none of my business."

   "It is no secret. Svetlana? This Svetlana. Russian whore. One, of many. In Russia? Being whore, is not a dishonorable career. After the fall of communism? Many women needed to eat. And? That line of work. Does not fail to pay the bills. It is a transaction. As any other. There is a service being offered. There is someone who wishes to purchase the service. If, a price is agreed upon. The service is provided. Where is the dishonor."

   "Does it concern us?"

   "Svetlana, ended up with Sergei. There was a... it was a difficult time. If you dispose of a man, you take his things. Svetlana? Was one of those things. She was not previously, working for The Bitches. But. Svetlana? Drugs. Sergei, would kill her. And so? She stays with him."

   "How does this concern... our project."

   "Ah. She is very scared. Sergei? Lacks focus and dedication. He is a drunken fool, and a pig. Apparently, Sergei has been bragging. When very drunk. That, he had something to do. With... the lightning strike. He feels, this will make him look like, a big man."

   Panic nodded.

   "I immediately called the man that told me. I told him, what she tells me. He asked, if I can believe her. I told him. She was always a good woman, before she ended up with Sergei. She is perhaps, even still. She sounds, very frightened. To hear this."

   Vladimir added.

   "Svetlana? Would know, what might happen. An example, would perhaps be made. She would be terrified, to become part of that... example. And? A friend, as I mention before. They do and tell people, what they must. But? At first opportunity. You call your friend. And this? Is what I believe she has done. She may have done things, that are not wise. No focus, no dedication. But? She shows loyalty. Focus and dedication, are nice things. Not strictly required, though. But loyalty? Is mandatory. And as you can see. Simple loyalty? Is not so hard. What is, a phone call."

   "Will... someone be handling this matter?"

   "Normally? Yuri would make such a decision. I called men, for their advice. I already know, that even if he did not do this? Claiming it, is not only stupid. It is fatal. No one, disagreed with my thoughts."

   Panic nodded more.

   "With Yuri, away on business. Someone else is handling his... business affairs, I assume."

   Vlad shrugged.

   "I was asked, to handle this matter."

   "Asked? Or ordered."

   Vlad smiled.

   "The, people I was discussing this with? It is the same thing."

   Panic sighed.

   "Can you handle this?"

   "If I return? You will then know, that I was capable of handling the matter."

   "Let me guess. This is not a simple task."

   "Probably not... simple. Not impossible, I am sure. I was told. People who can be trusted? Will look into this thing. Where he is. How many men. Such things."

   "Intelligence."

   "Yes."

   "How long."

   Vlad shrugged.

   "When they call? They call."

   Panic looked off to the horizon.

   "Will you be... given men?"

   "I can locate men, yes."

   "Take me with you."

   Vlad pointed to one of his tattoos, hidden under his suit.

   "This, is my affair. It does not concern you. But? I appreciate the offer."

   "Are you not allowed to take my help?"

   "When I am given a task? As long as I accomplish the task, that is what is important."

   "Vladimir? If this checks out. This asshole, is bragging. That he almost killed three of my friends. You're a new friend, but... those two men? We're like brothers. I take this.... personally. I could have just as easily, been on that boat."

   "When I get this call? We will discuss this thing."

   "Okay."

   Well, there we go. Traitor number two.

   I don't know Sergei. The Bitch, the pig. But I know Panic. This guy? Just got drunk and pissed in the exact wrong punch bowl.

   Panic didn't take long to have a quiet word with Little Robbie and Skykid. Rob doesn't strike me as the kind of guy that takes almost being blown up? Lightly. Skykid doesn't seem pleased either. In Skykid's own words?

   "This guy is bragging he destroyed my favorite pair of sunglasses, huh? How fascinating."

   One of the men with another of these businessmen streaming in, nodded to Panic. They knew one another. Panic grinned as they went to the side, to talk quietly.

   "Dean."

   "Fancy meeting you here. How long has it been."

   "Years, Dean. Years. How you been."

   Dean grinned. He ran his fingers with a flourish, down his nice suit and I would guess his body underneath.

   "All this time? And I still got it. How about you."

   Panic cocked his head to the side for a second. That wry grin.

   "I'm no slouch, by any stretch of the imagination."

   "You here working?"

   "No. I work for myself now. I was here for a little vacation. But you know something? I think I might just get the chance to go have some fun. Might be my last time, you never know."

   Dean grinned at him. Looked him up and down for a second. The once over.

   "You know? Its funny you should say that."

   "Why."

   "My client?"

   "Yeah."

   "He asked me. Would I mind looking into something."

   "Business? Or personal."

   "Personal business."

   "Any chance, you could talk about it?"

   Dean glanced at his necklace then back up to his face.

   "Not my call."

   "Who calls that shot."

   "No offense. Its confidential."

   He glanced at the necklace again. Grinned.

   "That said. If my client's friend were to okay such a thing? Well. I wouldn't mind having someone competent back me up. You know. Someone who can be trusted to load clips, without pissing their panties and running."

   Panic chuckled.

   "Fuck you and whatever faggot you rode in on. This, coming from one of the Alpha pussies."

   "Alpha Forward. Get it right."

   "Hey. If getting the band back together works out okay? I can sweeten the deal."

   Dean gave him an eyeballing.

   "I get to play again? How much sweeter can it get."

   "I got buddies on vacation. Good buddies."

   "Really."

   "Yeah. I got the Ghost himself. And? Frenchie."

   "You're shitting me."

   Panic gave his new dramatic pause, and? A sort of mildly dramatic sweep of his hand.

   "I shit thee not."

   "Well. Frenchie running rabbit, and the Shotgun Messiah himself, holding services? That could be interesting. If this would work out, you think they're in?"

   Panic counted on a couple fingers.

   "Rob wants to spread the word of the lord. I think its been far too long? Since their last confession."

   "And Frenchie?"

   "Well. They blew up his sunglasses."

   "That's bad for them. Talk about motivation."

   "Well? Go find your little boyfriend. See if we can have a sleepover. Maybe stay up all night, telling ghost stories."

   "You know. If this works out? It would be... really something. To get to ride with the remaining three horsemen of the apocalypse."

   "Nightmare? Rides in spirit with us."

   Dean nodded. His face looked, well? A hell of a lot like Panic's sometimes did. The eyes. Voice? Far too polite, far too controlled. This was one of the men? That took my Panic for one of their own. A fellow healthy sociopath. Because he was born without being able to show emotions naturally. On his face, or through his body language. So when he dropped his mask, and his body costume... they figured he was all but family.

   "I'll always miss Nightmare."

   "We'll see him again. Someday."

   Dean nodded, sage like.

   "Rally points in hell, right?"

   "There are other worlds to fight in, than these."

   Dean stepped off a few paces. Gave me the patented half a second once over. Before his cold and distant eyes settled on my necklace. Then a polite little nod.

   Before his employer's friend could meet with him? I heard a familiar voice.

   "Ah. Dean. My friend."

   "Vladimir. I was expecting... Yuri."

   "And? As god sees fit. Yuri is still away. On business. I was asked. To do? What I can."

   "Well. If you'll have my sword? Its yours."

   "I am touched. And, I see you have met some of my other friends. I assume, you have already, been introduced. This? Is Monsieur Testavino. And? His lovely wife."

   Dean looked at Panic. Questioning. Panic grinned.

   "Traveling name. Vlad? He knows who I am."

   "Well. Let us have, one little drink. For old time's sake."

   Vladimir started discussing the basics of what was going on. Dean eyed me and Elise up. Vlad grinned.

   "They are with us. And? They are useful."

   "If you say so."

   Elise smiled, and did her best girly girl at the beach saunter up.

   "Aw. Dean, right?"

   He gave her about a quarter second of the once over.

   "That's the rumor."

   "What's the matter. You don't like to play with girls, huh?"

   "When its appropriate. I'm working."

   "Pity. We could have such fun."

   He dismissed her.

   "Maybe later."

   Elise kept it up. Touching him with her fingers. A little giggle, a little smile.

   "Tell, you, what. We'll make a deal."

   "I don't pay for it."

   "Aw. Don't be like that. You never can tell. Maybe? You will pay for it."

   "I doubt it. I'll let you know."

   I kind of knew what was coming. Elise had stepped out of her beach flip flops, when she was close. When he put his attention back to Vlad and Panic? He was dismissing her fully now. That's when Elise struck. With her signature move, the one she got me to use? Though I'll always readily admit, not half as slick. She does it all like she's breathing. Fast, smooth, coordinated. I only have a few basic moves, and I have that little stop between moves, moving from one to the next. She doesn't. Its quick, fluid, and like a reflex.

   She reached around with her strong foot, and the arch of her foot hooked behind his knee. As soon as he felt contact he went to react, but that just wrapped his knee more easily around her foot, hooking his knee in. She stepped down while stepping to the side she wanted. His knee went down hard into the sand, and she stood on it. Rooting him in place. Her strong hands were waiting as his chin and the back of his head more or less just fell into them. She twisted his neck around and back, and paused.

   He looked surprised his neck wasn't broken. His right hand had dove for... something, but then in mid twitch went up to grab one of her wrists. She gave the tiniest little tweak and back. Don't try that again, it said. She whispered down near his ear.

   "You should listen when I speak. I just told you. Maybe you will pay for it."

   To his credit, he just reached up and tapped her hand a couple times. She smiled and let him go. First his neck, finally stepping off the back of his knee. When her foot came up, she gave him a little shove in the small of his back, while his strong knee was still down. He pitched forward as she stepped back, in case he wasn't going to be a good sport about it. But he was.

   Elise stared him back.

   "I also do... chiropractor work. First adjustment is free. After that? Its full price."

   He grinned standing back up.

   "Nice."

   Dean grinned.

   "Talk about the element of surprise."

   Dean nodded. Lifted his chin back to where I was, behind where Elise had started out.

   "And your wife?"

   "She's no slouch, but... she's better with a shotgun. She held flank once. For me and Little Robbie."

   He shrugged.

   "Works for me."

   I smiled.

   "No offense, but... actually, I don't work for you."

   "Probably because I'm a one man show. That way? Well. Lets just say... I'm particular about who I'll work for."

   He handed me a business card. Black background. Thick stock. Tasteful raised lettering and design. Plasticized, so it was waterproof. Expensive. The black background had what looked like flames coming up in 3-D in places.

   Crimson Mist Security Services.

   And in smaller text, under it. Subtitle.

   Red is our color.

   Ghost lettering, see through but readable through the flames, all over.

   Discrete and competent executive protection services.

   And other ghost lettering, even fainter. Once you looked.

   Equatorial vacation certified.

   I chuckled. I got the little in joke. These men wanted everyone to know, that was either in the know or needed to know? Only the great unwashed masses believed it, that the infamous Redwater corporation? Had actually been broken up and disbanded. Everyone who was anyone, or knew someone, rolled their eyes. They just broke up into various smaller companies and corporations, that specialized in all the same services, once offered. If your checkbook can take the workout? Redwater, still available. Hire the department you were looking for.

   Crimson Mist. If the shot conditions are right, with just enough flight time before impact? He can watch a red mist in the air, through his scope.

   Crimson, red. And just so you don't miss it... Red is our color. And mist in general? Is moisture, water in the air. Its a clever way of saying, quite simply... former Redwater.

   Equatorial vacation certified. That was a sick joke. He was bragging, so if you knew about such things? He'd taken contract tours, where Panic and Little Robbie and Skykid had once been. And made it back. Panic always called it hell on earth. Now I got it. Hell, flames.

   Hey. Talk about a resume on a card. A suit that needed or wanted someone dependable, that wouldn't lose his shit if something went down? This guy had once hunted right wing death squads for a living. He even lived to tell the tale.

   Right about now? Some asshole named Sergei, just got a chill up his spine. His goose was already cooked, and he didn't even know. Angels of death weren't picking his name out of a hat.

   Sergei? You've been a very naughty boy, haven't you.