She believed him. There was no way he could have done that to himself — or by himself. The sutures had been sewed and tied off with a neat, orderly precision. Someone else had sewn the mask to his skin — someone with a skilled, patient hand.
'Who did this to you?'
'One of the twelve,' he said. 'He sewed it on to my face as a reminder.'
'For what?'
Charlie grinned. 'You'll see. First, this.'
He removed his hand from Rizzo's shoulder and began to work furiously at the buttons of his long black shirt. No, not a shirt, she thought. It's one long piece of black material, like a robe or a tunic. It seemed to belong to some past century, some ancient and now dead culture. It brought to mind European castles, a time of fiefdoms and serfs.
'I was born with a specific genetic condition,' he said, moving his bent and crooked fingers with their missing nails to work on the next button. 'Do you remember what it is?'
She did. And she easily recalled the odd-sounding name because the condition was so bizarre and unusual.
'Athelia,' she said. 'It's when a child is born without one or both nipples.'
'Yes.' Charlie grinned, pleased. 'Yes. It's very rare. Dr Adams — that would be my family doctor — he told me there were something like two hundred thousand cases worldwide. This was back in '97, when I was taken. Do you remember how many nipples Charlie Rizzo was missing?'
'Two,' Darby said, staring at the dark rat's nest of unwashed hair secured to the mask.
Not a mask, she reminded herself. He's wearing another man's face.
'Come closer,' he said, training the gun on her. 'I want you to see this… That's far enough.'
Darby stopped about a foot away from the chair. If she could just move closer, she could bridge the gap and get into fighting range.
Charlie undid the last button. With his free hand, he pushed the fabric aside and let it drape across his shoulder to give her a full view of his naked body.
His chest, wasted thin and so pale it seemed to glow in the candlelight, was covered with a mess of thick, raised scars. Some were white, others pink and red; some were fresh welts, crusted with blood. Both nipples were missing. She also saw that he'd been turned into a eunuch.
Darby stared at the thick white scar left where his genitals had been and felt a cold place in her stomach, her skin slick underneath the heavy tactical clothing.
'Being born without both nipples,' he said, excited, 'that would put me in a rather exclusive club, wouldn't you agree?'
She did, but, given the thick scarring, it was impossible to tell if his nipples had been removed. Given the long, deep and jagged grooves — they seemed to cover nearly every square inch of his chest — she suspected it had been done with a carving knife.
'Now do you believe me? That I'm Charlie Rizzo?'
'Yes,' Darby said, not sure what else to say — and goddamn if some part of her hadn't turned over to the possibility that the man standing less than a foot away was, in fact, Charlie Rizzo. And the lattice pattern covering his chest and legs — why does it seem familiar?
'The mask,' she said. 'Whose face is it?'
'That's an excellent question,' Charlie said. He shrugged back into the tunic, quickly fastened a single button and then grabbed a tuft of Mark Rizzo's hair.
The man let out a yelp of surprise or pain as his head was yanked backwards. His daughters made frightened mewing sounds from behind the tape, but Mark Rizzo's single, good eye didn't look at them. Darby watched Charlie, her fingers, still tucked underneath her shirtsleeve, tightening around the prongs of the knife handle.
Come on, give me an opening…
'Now, Daddy,' Charlie said, looking directly at her. He had moved back behind the chair, the gun's muzzle pressed against Mark Rizzo's temple. 'I want you to tell Dr McCormick why I'm here.'
Mark Rizzo opened his mouth. Blood dribbled on to his chin. He licked his swollen and cut lips, then tried to speak.
Darby couldn't hear him — and she kept breathing through her mouth instead of her nose. The stench coming off Charlie had reached a nauseating pitch, making her eyes water.
'Speak up, Daddy. Don't be shy. Start with the day I was abducted.'
Rizzo's single eye rolled around in its socket, dazed.
'Charlie,' Darby said, 'why don't you tell me — '
'NO,' he roared, pointing the gun at her. 'NO. I've been waiting for this moment for ever — it's the only thing that's kept me alive all these years!'
Darby stared at the gun hovering a few inches from her face. Adrenalin was pumping through her limbs, urging her to fight. She had to remind herself to keep her voice calm.
'Tell me what he did to you,' she said. 'Tell me and I promise I'll — '
'We're not going anywhere until he confesses! He needs to say it. That's why I brought you here! You need to hear it from the monster's own lips. I want the world to know what he did to me!'
Charlie, trembling with rage and watching her closely, leaned against Mark Rizzo's ear and hissed: 'Tell her, Daddy. Tell the nice lady about the day I was abducted — tell her why they took me.'
Mark Rizzo's single eye locked on her. 'This… thing,' he croaked. He swallowed, tried again. 'He's not… my son.'
Charlie pulled the gun away. Darby watched in slow motion as he pointed the gun to Mark Rizzo's leg, saw her window of opportunity and took it.
8
Darby lurched forward on her left foot, keeping her right planted firmly on the floor. Switchblade quick, she clutched Charlie's wrist with her left hand. Twisted it, surprised to feel bones snapping underneath her grip, and pulled him off balance as he squeezed the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot was no louder than a firecracker. The round splintered the headboard as she yanked Charlie's arm, pushing him up against Mark Rizzo's shoulder. Held on to his wrist as she pivoted her body and squared her shoulders, throwing all her weight behind her right fist and shattering his nose. His head snapped back. She heard the tumble to the floor. Before his knees gave out she gripped him by the throat, the dried leathery flaps of the skin mask hard underneath her palm and fingers, and smashed the back of Charlie's head against the wall.
Charlie didn't fight — didn't have the strength or the inclination. She tossed him over her leg and threw him against the floor. Turned him on to his stomach and then dug her knee into the small of his back, pinning him to the carpet. She had the pair of Flexicuffs in her hands and he continued to lie still, gagging on the blood pouring down his throat and into his mouth. She yanked his arms hard behind his back and then he screamed when she heard bones snapping and breaking.
'Subject is down,' she yelled into the chest mike, tightening the pair of Flexicuffs around his wrists. 'I repeat, subject is down and the house is secure.'
'Promise me,' Charlie gagged, spitting out blood and teeth on to the carpet. 'Promise you won't let them take me.'
One of the bedroom windows shattered. Darby heard a whistling sound above her head and then a thud. A tear gas canister had hit the far wall and was now rolling across the floor, hissing smoke. Trent had heard the gunshot and ordered his men to breach the house.
Another pane of glass exploded, another tear gas canister hit the wall and then tumbled across the floor near the bedroom door.
