her.”
“We had nothing to do with her father.”
“So? Cops will still look.”
“Let me handle the cops. You just clean out your wop ears and do what you’re told.”
“I’m Cuban.”
Rothchilde went off on a yelling jag, and Carlos hung up. He looked at Franco, who was clutching an ice pack between his legs.
“He wants us to take out the Doc and the girl.”
Franco smiled.
“Good. I’ll enjoy snuffing that guy. And the girl will make a yummy dessert.”
Carlos frowned. He didn’t like the way any of this was going. He decided to call Gino.
“Whaddaya want?”
“Gino, it’s Carlos.”
“No shit. You see that big bright display on your phone? It’s called Caller fucking ID.”
No respect. Didn’t anyone see the movie Scarface? Now Pacino, he had respect. Maybe it was just this generation. Carlos had worked for Gino’s father, years ago. That man respected everyone who worked for him, and he got that respect back. Carlos would have taken a bullet for him. He wouldn’t take a mosquito bite for Gino.
“He wants us to take the doc and the girl out.”
“Jesus. That guy. Okay, you do it, make sure it don’t get back to me. I don’t want it to look like a hit. Maybe a robbery. Or some crazy killer Charlie Manson thing. Messy. Franco is good at that psycho shit.”
Carlos sighed. It kept getting better and better.
“You got it, boss.”
Gino hung up.
“We gonna do it?” Franco was practically drooling.
“Yeah. We have to make it look messy.”
“I like messy. We need to stop at the store for supplies.”
Carlos kept a box of disposable latex gloves in the trunk. He also had duct tape, carving knives, and some butcher’s aprons, along with his disguise. The tools of the wet trade.
“We’re set.”
“You got rubbers, too?”
“Rubbers?”
“Make it messy, right?”
“Jesus, Franco.”
Maybe it was this generation. Carlos suspected MTV had a lot to do with it.
“Stop at that place on Damon. They sell the extra large kind.”
Carlos pointed the car east.
Jack Kilborn
Disturb
Theena’s apartment didn’t match her personality. It was plain, with little frill or flourish. There were no photos of friends or family anywhere, and the bland painting hanging over the sofa looked like it came with the frame, probably purchased because the color scheme matched the sofa and love seat.
Neat, tidy, impersonal. Sort of like a motel, Bill thought. The only distinctive object in eyeshot was a potted cactus next to the front door, jutting out of its terra cotta pot like a two foot, green exclamation point.
“Are you hungry?”
“Tired, mostly.”
They’d spent the previous night in Manny’s room, and hadn’t slept much. Bill could say without question it was the best day he’d had in over a year. It was more than just the sex. He felt connected. For a few wonderful hours, Theena had taken away his guilt and loneliness, and given him back a shred of self-worth.
But the woman Bill had been with yesterday was nowhere to be found at the moment. Today’s Theena was withdrawn, distant, defeated.
“The bedroom is the second door, there.”
Bill yawned. He needed a nap, but there was a lot he had to do. The N-Som folder he’d taken from Bitner’s house was in his overnight bag. Among other things, Bill was anxious to see how the experiment with Sam the monkey ended.
But it was more than that. Bill didn’t want to sleep because he was afraid Carlos and Franco might find him. He couldn’t be caught unaware.
“I’m okay, thanks.”
“You look exhausted.”
“I am. But I don’t think sleep is a good idea right now.”
He wanted to share his doubts about Rothchilde with Theena. Bill had a solid feeling that the A.P. President was behind those two thugs, Franco and Carlos. He also believed that Rothchilde had some kind of pull with the Chicago PD, which is why Bill hadn’t gotten any help.
But something held Bill back. Even with all he’d shared with Theena, there was still something he didn’t completely trust about her.
Or maybe the lack of sleep was just making him paranoid.
“I have some N-Som.”
“Hmm?”
“You could take a pill. Then you don’t have to sleep.”
“No thanks, Theena.”
Theena came over to him, serious.
“Bill, I’ve been working with this drug for almost a decade. It’s safer than taking Vitamin C.”
Bill didn’t answer. Any courage he might have harbored concerning unproven drugs died with his wife.
“Look.” Theena dug into her purse and took out a pill bottle. “You’ve read up on the chemistry, right? There’s nothing toxic in here, Bill. They’re neurotransmitters. The body manufactures these naturally. It’s an acetylcholinesterase inhibitor, which activates the aminergic drive.”
“I know what it’s supposed to do. But is that all it does?”
“Manny’s been awake for over a thousand hours. He’s fine.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“This is how sure I am.”
Theena popped the top off the bottle and placed a pill in her mouth, swallowing it dry.
“It takes about four minutes to be absorbed into the bloodstream-the drug has an amino acid chelate so it immediately passes through the ion channel. Then it produces a reaction similar to narcolepsy. But it isn’t really sleep because the brain stays in alpha.”
Theena sat down on the sofa and stretched out her legs.
“The effect lasts anywhere from ten to twenty minutes, and then you snap immediately out of it and you’re completely awake and aware.”
“No residual effect?”
“None. The brain counteracts the drug with an increased production of norepinepherine. You wake up refreshed.”
Bill was intrigued.
“If it inhibits sleep, why do you have a narcoleptic episode for twenty minutes? Shouldn’t it simply keep you awake?”
“N-Som doesn’t inhibit sleep. It replaces it. The same neurotransmitters that are responsible for waking are responsible for sleeping. N-Som affects the sleep center first, causing a state we call hyper-relaxation. The brain automatically releases its own neurotransmitters to counter the effect. The result is twenty-three hours of ZFS.”
“Zero Fatigue Syndrome. Manny mentioned it.”
Theena laid back on the sofa and closed her eyes.
“I may toss and turn a little. It’s possible to rouse a person in hyper-relaxation, but not easy-it’s like trying to
