She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, either, which she was currently in the process of doing. She was in a small storage room just adjacent to what served as her office, holding a small electrode to a mans torso. The man before her in nothing but his underwear, standing on his toes with his wrists bound by chains above his head, had come to work for her three weeks ago, and he had become careless. Just yesterday she was tipped off that he was an informant working for the cops.
They had tried before, to no avail. She had eyes and ears everywhere, eyes and ears that were paid quite well to be loyal and to let her know when there was any threat to her operation. Handley was just another in a long line of threats she had rooted out and dealt with. So far, he was being the tough guy, refusing to talk in spite of the multiple electric shocks she was administering.
“Larry,” she shouted.
“Yes, boss,” a man answered from outside the room.
“Be a doll and fetch me another battery, will you? This one’s out of juice.”
“Okay, boss.”
“Well, Mr. Handley, it appears you have a little reprieve. Only so much juice in these things. You care to tell me who you’re reporting to?”
Handley was trying to work up enough saliva to spit at his tormenter, but his mouth was dry.
“What’s wrong J.R., cat got your tongue? I know you’re a cop, or you’re working with them. Just tell me what I want to know and it all ends.”
“You know what you need to know. I’m not telling you anything else, bitch.”
“Oh, Larry, can you just hook that new one up for me?”
“Now, where were we?” she asked, after she had the new car battery hooked up, “Oh yeah, you were being an obstinate pig.”
She held up the small prod and placed it on his abdomen again, causing him to convulse in pain. She held it there for a few seconds before removing it, crinkling her nose at the acrid smell of burning flesh.
“Oh dear, that doesn’t smell good. Do I have it turned up too high?”
She hit him again for another ten seconds and removed it when she heard a knock at the door.
“What is it?”
“It’s Frank. Got that data you wanted.”
“Can’t you see I’m busy? Oh hell, come on in. Mr. Handley’s not going anywhere.”
Frank walked in, looked at Handley, and quickly looked away.
“Is that the informant?”
“Yeah, stubborn fool, doesn’t want to say much.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know much.”
“Maybe, but I so enjoy making sure.”
“Remind me never to cross you.”
“That’s right, Frank. What do you have on our new friend?” Catherine asked, sticking the probe back onto Handley’s chest and holding it there.
“If you look at the time it took him to get to each apartment, including the one in New York, you can see he’s damn fast. Then the bomb in that old house in Delhi…didn’t even faze him. Dude just flew out of there with hardly a hair out of place.”
“It appears that he’s extremely fast and can’t be killed, at least not easily. How long before he starts becoming a problem for our operation?”
“So far all he’s done is stop a few robberies and a high-speed chase on the highway. He hasn’t messed with any of the dealers…How long you gonna hold that on him?”
“Oh…pardon me. I should remove it now and then. That’s well and good that he hasn’t bothered the dealers, but having someone like that around could hinder future operations.”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You always do.”
“You say he has a soft spot for helping people in trouble?”
“It appears so.”
“Well…it might not be the best weakness, but it might suffice. While you’re at it, Frank, have Larry bring me a couple more batteries. This might be awhile.”
“Uh…you sure you’re gonna need another one. He ain’t lookin’ so good.”
Handley’s head was slumped down on his chest. Mixon felt his neck, but there was no pulse.
“Not very sporting of him, dying on me so soon. We were just beginning to have so much fun. Oh well…tell Larry to deal with the body. He’ll know what to do.”
8
Walter walked in the apartment after making sure nobody saw him and sat down heavily in his recliner.
“Something smells good. You been cooking, kid?”
“Yep, don’t move. Coming right up.”
A minute later, Franklin came in with a plate full of hamburgers and set it down with a flourish on the coffee table.
“Dinner is served,” he said, with an exaggerated bow.
“You just guess when I’d be home?”
“Nah…been tracking your phone.”
“You can do that?”
“It’s not hard. I put an app on there and you can track it with this program on your laptop. I put the app on mine too. I’ll show you how to do it after we eat.”
“You think it’s a good idea?” Walter asked between bites.
“Maybe. I can see where you are and you can see where I am. If there’s any trouble…”
“Let’s hope there isn’t any trouble…but yeah…I can see it.”
“Looks like you had a busy afternoon.”
“Nothing too difficult. Got some guy’s car back to him, had a nice chat.”
“That your phone ringing?”
“Hmm…yeah, looks like it. Let it go to voice mail. I’ll return the call when I’m done eating.”
Walter finished another hamburger and said, “You know kid, I like burgers, but we have to work on expanding your culinary talents.”
“You’ll have to teach me. Never learned growing up.”
“Guess not…about that…how much time did you have in a…stable…house?”
“Not much. Dad was hardly home, and after he went to prison…well…Mom was always strung out. It was foster homes after Mom died.”
“You know…I thought I had a rough upbringing, but you take the cake. You seen your dad since he got locked up?”
“Got no use for that loser.”
“How many years has it been?”
“Almost ten.”
“You never thought of patching things up?”
“What is
