GABRIEL
It took another six months before Memnon was ready to move, or at least he was finally making noises in that direction. A lot has happened in that time. First, I did not return to Sicily, not yet, but I did stay in contact with Sal, almost weekly, in fact. He would've liked more, but I knew a big fish in the water has more lure than the little one on the hook.
So, I kept him waiting while giving him updates on my life, fictional, of course, but he'd find the truth of my words if he looked. I also used the time to lay the groundwork for my next big move when I finally do return to Sicily. Things were going slower than I would've liked, but all things considered, I'd not been wasting valuable time, but instead, getting things in order for my departure.
In that time, I'd also been collecting and compiling my findings from the recordings I'd made from the devices I'd planted in the palazzo and also in Teresa and Antonio's home. The bottle of wine I'd sent her was long gone, but she'd held onto the collector's bottle, which I knew she would since she's an aficionado. The burgundy was one of the oldest and hard to find. Now the bottle with my little addition attached has taken up center stage in the room where she spends most of her time.
I started seeing the effects of the little surprise I'd added to the wine on her husband about three months in and was sure the end result was just around the corner. It's fair to note he never touched the bottle as he's not as into the fruit of the vine as she is, so there was no way for her to link anything back to me when shit hits the fan.
Felice was at this point just a shell of herself, but alas, I no longer get to see and hear her, only about her, since she's been in an institution for the insane for the last three months. That's how long it had taken before they gave up and realized there was no help for her. She'd kept on using that cream until it was gone, and there was a sizable hole in the side of her face.
Alonzo had given up hiding his disgust by week three, and with each scream, Sal was even more sure that it was her penance for that night and the part she'd played. He was literally waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pop had given up trying to sideline me, or so he'd like me to believe. When I came back that last time, he'd just welcomed me back home and gone on with his day as if to convince me that he was over it. I knew he was pissed, but he'd caught himself up in a bind.
On the one hand, he wants to give me the respect of a man, while on the other, he wants to baby his son. I think he's consoled himself with the thought that I wouldn't do anything dangerous before telling him something nana and I had come up with to put his mind at ease.
I'm sure he suspects my end game by now, but he hasn't brought it up to nana, who I'm sure would pull the plug if she knew. I also know that in the end, she'd understand. Pop never will, and that's something I'm going to have to live with for however much time I have left.
His dilemma with the cops and feds was coming to an end as well though I'm sure he knows they will always be watching in one capacity or another, but at least for now, the heat is gone. Dempsey had been made to pay a fine; the department had been made to pay Lancelot a hefty sum, and Pop had pretty much destroyed Dempsey and his little band of merry men.
Last I heard, his wife had left him once the truth came out, and he started catching flak from his colleagues and citizens alike; his kids were ashamed of him, at least in public, but why weren't they ashamed when he was the way he was all along? I like how in these cases, people tend to act like they didn't know that the accused was a piece of shit all along.
Pop hadn't stopped with his profession, so that may have played a part in his ostracization. All of his behind-the-scenes dealings, from extramarital affairs to some other shady shit on the job, had been dug up and broadcasted to all and sundry by Pop, who then turned his sights on anyone else involved; it was a bloodbath without shedding any blood and Levi has been having a ball with it all.
Life, for all intents and purposes, has been plodding along. Right now, the twins are filling out college applications, and I can't help but wonder if Gianna has continued her education somewhere. After almost two years (I know the day the month the hour almost to the second, but I'm not going there), you'd think thoughts of her would dwindle, but they haven't, not even a little bit. I still long for her like I do my next breath, though the pain is not as sharp as it once was.
Thankfully I was too caught up in my scheme to dwell for any surmountable length of time, but at night, alone in bed, the pain was tenfold, and nothing I've tried took the hell that is my life without her away. I'd given up trying, accepting this too as part of my penance. Though I wish she'd at least reach out to someone to let them know she was okay.
I have a feeling she's punishing me with her silence that she's alive and well somewhere, but could she really be hanging onto that mad after all this time? Hadn't I stopped being mad at her a long time ago? Was my rejection so harsh that she had to do this? I ask myself those questions time and time again with no answers.
I'm even tempted to go looking for her after this is all over, but then I remind myself that that won't be possible. I long for one last goodbye, even if just to see her from a distance, anything to give me that one last glimpse of my love before I go. Why hadn't I thought of any of this before sending her away?
It was even more exacerbating now that none of what I feared had come to pass. No one has suspected me of anything thus far, and Ricci had his hands too full with his wife and the coming fallout with his father to look for me here. He was catching his ass trying to get back in Sal's good graces while the old man was busy pulling his backing from the six others that had been there that night.
He'd met with the nun as I suspected he would, and she was the one, I guess, who'd given him the full details of that night because it was after his meeting with her that he really made up his mind about his son and grandson. Jr. has been lost without his mother, who had gone completely insane and was now at death's door.
I guess she doesn't have a year after all, but who could've guessed that even in the midst of sickness, she'd use that cream every single day, subjecting herself to the poison I'd put there? She'd sped up the process on her own; I'm not taking the blame for that.
Natalia had been sent away to some boarding school because she was literally traumatized by what had been done to her mother's face, which looked as if acid had been poured all over the skin of her cheeks. With the people around her falling apart, her father because he'd lost his bid for a political seat, and now her mother, who'd gone insane, she'd needed to escape, I guess.
Now it's time for me to go back, to start the ball rolling on Luna and those who are in bed with her and the sick shit she's doing with kids. I thought of getting something extra special for Memnon to thank him for all his hard work as I got on the computer to contact him. As expected, he was there waiting as he'd promised with all the information needed.
"Mem, you've been a great help. I'll take it from here."
"What do you mean? Don't you want my people to handle it?"
"No, not this time."
"But those kids are spread out all over the place; it'll take time to find them all and…."
"Oh, that part I'll leave to you. I thought you meant bringing her down.
"Oh, I see, so you're planning to expose her."
"Yes, maybe we should coordinate our strikes."
"I don't understand. Are you going back to Sicily?"
"Yes!"
"You know it's very dangerous; some of the people she's involved with are high rollers, men and women with lots of backing. We're talking world leaders and dignitaries."
"I don't care!"
"Nemesis, what's really going on with you? Is this about your thing still? You haven't mentioned it all this time, but I get the feeling you're after more than you've let on. In fact, your very silence on the matter is suspicious in itself."
"You're overthinking; the two things have nothing to do with each other. She's just a byproduct; I guess you can say."
"Somehow, I don't buy that. Why would you be on the ground there alone? What is it that you're planning to do? You're not still…."
"As I said, you're overthinking. You're hung up on the ramblings of a young boy who didn't know any better." He didn't answer, and I was afraid he wasn't buying it this time.
***
MEMNON/TRACK
***
This is alarming, very alarming. I'd gotten so caught up in following the twists and turns in the case Nemesis had thrown in my lap that I'd neglected to see the signs. I'd convinced myself somehow that he'd outgrown that need for vengeance that had spilled out of him that long-ago day when he slipped up and told me what he wanted to do to his bio father.
I'm sure he's regretted that moment of weakness over time, but I never once brought it up or gave him reason to regret sharing what he had. I understood even back then that we all need to vent sometimes to relieve the pressure of the burdens we carry. We'd been so young back then; it was easy to overlook certain things with time. I'd made myself believe over the years when it was never mentioned again that he'd just been blowing off steam.
Now, I'm not so sure. I thought when he sent me this case that that was the end of it, that he'd just needed some help from my end because he knew I was into this kind of thing. It never once occurred to me that this was all part of his earlier plot. I see now that he'd been biding his time. Waiting for me to find the kids that had been taken and to figure out the ins and outs of the organization responsible to put an end to the flow.
But if he's planning to go there now, in the midst of all this, what does it mean? There's no obvious answer, no glaring red flag that I can pinpoint, just a nagging feeling in my gut. I sometimes wish I'd disobeyed him and let the others in on what I was doing. Something in me, some urgency had me getting to my feet and heading outside where the others had gathered.
There's nothing stopping me from letting them in now. We've all been waiting to make a move on the little town in Virginia and the place in New York for a while. Those, too, had taken a while because of what was at stake and who was involved. It's not like on Television where everything happens in fifty minutes, not when lives are at stake.
Because of the turbulence in the world, weddings had been postponed, and births had been given, right here on the island, where the squad had come to the conclusion that here was as good a place as any to set up shop. The last couple of years had been spent taking care of things back on the mainland, and I'm not sure how Mancini had done it, but he'd got them all to agree that this was the safest place for us all to be for now.
My friends and I still had classes, so we weren't always here, especially after they lifted the moratorium on face-to-face classes, but we spent more time here than there. We've still been going on runs because asshole traffickers didn't stop their shit even throughout the worst outbreak of the pandemic, so we couldn't either.
It all works out; I guess because Mancini has been using this time to prepare Lyon for his new role as head of the squad. Yes, it had taken this long for Colton to accept, though we all knew it was coming, the guy is a born leader. A bit hotheaded, but still, he has the bearing and potential of a true ruler.
I appreciate the fact that they didn't rush us into anything and had given us the time to settle in and make sure it was a good fit for all of us. Apart from space and so many of us living together before really knowing each other, the time had been beneficial in teaching us what works and where each person's skills did the most good.
It's not lost on me that Nemesis would fit in very well here. Not only because of his hacking skills but because of the person he is, those values that come through loud and clear can be matched with any one of the men here, from Lyon to the SEALs and my friends and I, the frat boys as we're so fondly referred to by the others.
I'm about to drop something heavy on them, but it can't be helped. I have the feeling my friend's life might be forfeited if I wait any longer. Sorry Nem, this might be seen as a betrayal, but I'd rather you live. Now I just have to figure out a way to bring it up. Then I remembered what the others were doing outside right this minute, and an idea started to form in my head.
I stepped out onto the soft green Caribbean grass overlooking the sea to find most of the squad standing around watching Jason and Nia. I wondered how long it would take Mancini to get to this point of showcasing the kid's skills. For the last couple of years since she's been here, he'd focused mostly on her computer skills, never letting on that he knew what else she was capable of. But it was hard to miss once you know what you were looking for. Nia's reflexes are way above normal for someone who's never been in combat.
Now here in the last couple of days, Mancini had decided it was time to show us all what she's capable of. I guess the fact that she and Jason are alike had something to do with it. This was my intro, the way I can bring Nem to their attention without seeming too obvious.
Then I'll drop my fears on them, and knowing them, especially Mancini, he won't want to lose someone as gifted as I'm sure my friend is. It would mean doxing him, finding him in real life, something we don't take kindly to as members of ANONYMOUS, but this time it can't be helped; a life might be at stake.
***
LYON
***
"What all can she do?" The sun is hot as a spiteful bitch!
"I plan to have her and Jason do some runs sometime in the next week or so, so you can all see. What she's learned he was born with, that's why I want the two of them working together. As for what she can do, at her level, she can hear you breathe from outside the door. She can also tell how many warm bodies are in a room by the way each one breathes."
"And you're letting her run around with Mengele? Shouldn't these kids be in a classroom somewhere learning some shit?"
"Give it up, Lyon; your kid outgrew the classroom a long time ago; besides, who do you think will be running this ship when we hang it up?" I'm not touching that shit with a ten-foot pole. It's been a little more than two years, and I still don't know what dafuq I'm doing here. I keep sleeping with one eye open because I'm not too sure Mancini isn't going to pull a Jim Jones with these demented kids, my daughter included.
At least we've been doing good work here, as long as it's been taking. This is why I don't work well with others. For two fucking years, I've been twiddling my thumbs, waiting for action; now this fuck has me poring over spreadsheets and shit before we make a move on the big fish. Whatever happened to blowing everyone to shit and being done with it?
Look, I understand the need to find all the missing kids and women that have been taken. He and Thorpe are big on that shit. As for me, I say shoot the bastards, grab the kids, problem solved. Isn't that what all that computer crap is for? We pretty much know where the kids are because some of these assholes keep records and shit.
Because, yeah, if you're scummy enough to steal little girls and boys to sell across the ocean, you're not going to be too bright, and since I think they come up short on the human scale, they don't serve any purpose and shouldn't be allowed to breathe my air any longer than necessary.
Mancini, in his bid to turn me into the leader of this mess, has been taking his time to show me how it should be done in a civilized world. I left that shit behind a long time ago. Ever since the night I drew and quartered some asshole in the desert. But whatever! I turned my attention back to the two exhibitionists who were showcasing their skills just in time to see some Sci-fi shit.
"Is he catching arrows?"
"Yeah, he does that."
"He hasn't figured out how to catch a bullet yet, so y'all walk carefully. If anything happens to him, there will be hell to pay. My wife is already growing suspicious since I uprooted her whole life and brought her and the kids here. If something happens to her little brother, well…."
"Stop bitching Thorpe, sheesh." This guy!
Jason came walking over with his bow and arrow with the little super ninja behind him, and the women came out of nowhere with their nosy asses. Kat was still looking ripe after giving birth to the last set of twins I'd dropped in her, Casey and Cade, who were toddling along beside her as she and her crew came to stick their noses in.
"Jason, you and Nia are the only level ten grandmasters that exist that I know of as of now." Mancini beamed with pride, and I rolled my eyes.
"There's one more; he's right here in the states." Track piped up as he, too, joined us.
"Really? Who?" Ah, jeez, this guy collects people like some humans collect tin cans.
"This kid in New Hampshire." Hmm, I'm not sure, but that was too smooth even for Track. It's almost like he'd been waiting for an opportunity. Or maybe I'm too cynical like my nosy ass wife is always saying. Whatever, my Spidey senses are a-tingling.
"How do you know this? Who is he?" Annnnnd…Mancini fell for the okey-doke.
"I can't tell you that. We're ANONYMOUS." Track smiled at Mancini, who looked like he was about to salivate.
"Yeah, like we need another one of these freaks that could hear through walls and shit."
"COLT." Kat screeched, which is her only volume these days.
Shit, did I say that out loud? "What's your problem?" I asked my delightful wife. The prissy one just rolled her eyes and picked up one of the twins who, of course, needed changing and passed him off to me. Nothing like a dirty diaper to remind me that I'm just a gopher for her and her kids.