Page 59 of Vengeance

While they’re occupied with that, I get a good look at Adrian. His lip is busted, he’s bleeding from somewhere on his head, his mouth is bloody, his clothes are ruffled and torn and likely hiding a myriad of other bruises, and he keeps rolling his right shoulder backward and forwards.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He’s needs to go see a doctor. But he gets my meaning and nods.

“Been through a lot fucking worse than this. And when I say that, I don’t mean you shooting me.”

I don’t care if he’s been through worse. I know Adrian. He has an exceedingly high tolerance for pain. So him saying he’s fine brings me little comfort. I’m about to tell him as much when the lead fed makes his way over to us.

“Mr. Blake,” the man says. “Come with me.”

“It’s Fantoni now, actually.”

“Is it? Stephen Pray got a long lost son after all?”

“A long lost daughter,” Adrian corrects, nodding to me.

The man eyes me and says, “Hm. Guess she better come too then.”

“Are we under arrest?” Adrian demands.

“No. We just need to go to a secure place and talk is all.”

Adrian and I have been on both sides of this business long enough to know that’s a way to lure us into a false sense of security to have us right where they want us when they do decide to arrest us.

“We can find somewhere in there,” I say nodding to Pray Drinks office headquarters. “And I’m sure you won’t mind if our security comes with us. And we can record the conversation.”

“You Italians and your paranoia,” he mutters. Before Adrian or I can say anything to that, he says, “If those are your demands, sure. But we talk tonight. We need to get our stories straight.”

27

Viper

We go into what’s likely an interview room on the first floor of Pray Drinks headquarters. We sit him with his back to the wall while Dele and I sit on the opposite end with our back to the door to keep him from escaping and to allow for a quick escape for us if needed. Outside the door, Dele’s Fangs dutifully stand guard to warn us ahead of time if this looks like a trap, though we’ll likely know long before because the real feds didn’t arrest our people, and they’ll let us know if anything changes.

Joining us in the room is Eileen, who takes one look at the black-haired man who stopped me from killing Pray and says unenthusiastically, “Jake.”

Jake replies, “You’re the one who broke my heart, babe.”

“You know him?” I ask.

“Yes. And he’s about as much a fed as I was a CIA operative. I just could never find out who he was working for. I’m guessing it’s been Pray all along.”

Jake shrugs.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“So impatient, Mr. Blake. I’m sorry. Mr. Fantoni. Always wanting to dive right into the meat of things.”

I level the man with a steady glare. I am not above shooting him right now. Especially since Eileen has explained exactly what kind of fed he is. But to be truthful, I am a little impatient. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and I’m starting to feel the aches and pains of letting Pray beat me up earlier. And though Pray has unquestionably lost, my desire to have him dead isn’t yet quenched. The quicker we do all this, the better.

Jake sighs and says, “What’s going to be our story? I know you had something in mind before you stormed into this place to murder Stephen Pray, a very public figure and authority. I’m sure it has something to do with the story that just broke.”

“Story?” I ask.

“You know. The one you fed to the feds and the Times about Stephen Pray running an illegal and abhorrent human trafficking scheme. Why the hell do you think we were even activated?”

I have no clue what he’s talking about, but Dele speaks up and says, “You came to arrest Pray, but you work for Pray?”

---