Stone Junction

‘You admit you tipped the CIA?’ Shamus said coldly.

‘Yes. Reluctantly, by request.’

Shamus hissed, ‘Fucking Daniel.’

‘I gave my honor that I wouldn’t reveal my source.’

‘You did, huh?’ Shamus sneered. ‘What honor could you possibly have, snitching us to the CIA?’

‘I was forced to act on extremely short notice. The CIA was the best choice.’

‘Who told you?’ The pistol shook in Shamus’s hand. ‘You tell me or I’ll shoot off little pieces of you until you do. All I want from you, Volta, is what I deserve – the truth.’

Volta looked past the gun barrel into Shamus’s eyes. ‘Annalee betrayed you.’

Shamus went blank. His ravaged hand screamed in his ear, ‘Kill him, kill him, kill him – he’s fucking with your head!’

Volta spoke directly to Shamus, who was staring at him, shocked. ‘I’m sorry, Shamus. I believe everyone deserves the truth, but I promised Annalee I would never tell anyone, never, unless my life depended on it. I told her I wouldn’t die to protect her betrayal.’

Shamus stared at Volta, ignoring the scarred hand muttering in his ear. Volta calmly met Shamus’s gaze. Shamus blinked rapidly, his lips drawing back in a sickly grin. A muscle twitched sharply in his cheek, and again; then, as if the spasm had ignited his nervous system, his entire body began to jerk. Volta sensed Shamus knew this was the truth. Though Volta believed Shamus deserved the truth, he also understood that this was a truth Shamus couldn’t survive. As Volta perfectly understood, that meant he wouldn’t survive it either, not unless he could shock Shamus into paralysis or sense. But clearly, there were two Shamuses, the hand that held the gun, the other hand hideously disfigured by molten silver.

Shamus’s face contorted. ‘Never!’ he screamed. ‘No!’

Volta said softly, ‘The truth.’

‘It’s a trick, a trick, a trick, a trick,’ the hand yammered in Shamus’s ear.

‘I know it is, goddammit!’ Shamus yelled at his hand. Shamus began to pace tightly back and forth, keeping the gun trained on Volta. Shamus and his hand were muttering, but both were so low and garbled Volta couldn’t make out a single word. He looked for a lapse in Shamus’s awareness, a point of escape, a move to make. Failing that, he could try to strike one clean, shattering blow to Shamus’s psyche that would make him accept the truth. The longer Shamus paced, growing more careless with the gun, the more Volta liked his chances.

He liked them a whole lot less when Shamus quit pacing and slowly raised the gun until the front bead locked solidly on Volta’s forehead. Sneering, Shamus said, ‘You cold bastard. You heartless piece of shit. Do you think I’m stupid? I know Daniel was the traitor. He tipped you, you tipped the Feds – keep it tidy that way – and now, out of your legendary sense of honor, you are protecting Daniel. It’s an excellent ploy, really. You admit you snitched us to the CIA, but claim it was at the request of a fine, brave woman who is – fortunately for you, heartbreakingly for me – dead. Dead by the treachery of her own son, and the corrupt accomplice of his future mentor who foresaw great possibilities for such a poisoned soul. If I’m interpreting the few whispers I’ve heard correctly, your prize graduate of the black arts has now betrayed you. I always sensed that in Daniel – a feeling that he would only find forgiveness in oblivion.’

‘He has,’ Volta said. ‘But he wasn’t seeking forgiveness. He was seeking beyond sin and forgiveness, and he didn’t return.’

‘Oh my,’ Shamus said derisively, ‘how convenient. Now the only two people who could have told you are––’

Volta cut in sharply, ‘Shamus, think clearly. Daniel is dead. Why wouldn’t I tell you what you need to believe, that it was Daniel who betrayed you? Why?’

Shamus’s hand babbled wildly in his ear, ‘Don’t fall for it he’s fucking your head he has moves and outs and smarts don’t match him don’t let him…’

Shamus, his puzzled gaze locked on Volta’s face, said, ‘Why?’

Volta said, ‘Because the only way you’ll heal is through the truth. And because I respect you, and because I’m now free to help. Annalee betrayed you. That’s the truth.’

Shamus held the bead on Volta’s forehead. ‘You cruel son of a bitch. You know you’re going to die, and even though it makes no difference anymore, you won’t leave what I have left of her undefiled.’

‘I have proof,’ Volta said.

‘Blow the fucking scum away!’ the scarred hand squealed. ‘Do it now! Don’t listen. Don’t. Don’t.’

Volta continued, his voice calm, precise: ‘Annalee called me an hour after she’d left your apartment on the day of the planned attempt. Her call came in on a gold-access number, and every gold-access call is automatically taped. The tape is in this room, in a narrow vault behind the mirror to your right. There’s a tape deck on the table behind me.’ He paused, then added, ‘If you want the truth. If you have the spirit to bear it, as I have, for years.’

‘Okay,’ Shamus said with confidence, ‘I’m going to call that bluff.’ He seemed oblivious to his hand’s frenzied drone-chant in his ear, ‘Nonowdoitnownonowdoitnownonowdoitnownonowdoitnow… ’

‘My compliments,’ Volta said, ‘on an intelligent choice. Your only hope, Shamus, is to accept the truth.’

‘Hey,’ Shamus spit, ‘I’m calling your bluff, remember? And if I’ve caught you, you lose. One piece of your body at a time, or five clips – whichever comes first. So where is this tape?’

‘In a vault behind that mirror. Lift off the mirror and press the nail it hangs on – three long, four short. The vault door will open. The tape is coded AGAPE. I’ll get it myself if you prefer.’

‘Very slowly,’ Shamus murmured, indicating the mirror with a slight movement of the gun barrel.