Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?

~~~~~ 2009 ~~~~~

He was in Hell, right? No... just Arkham. Same difference. Winthrop hadn’t been trying to kill him, he’d just drugged his food. While he was out they’d strapped him to his cot. They’d hosed the cell down, too, judging by the general drippiness of himself and his surroundings. His head pounded from whatever it was they’d given him. Pounding heads... why did that seem so familiar? An image of brain pulp on concrete came to mind. He’d dreamt of pounding someone’s head into the ground. Ringholtz. It wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. Seeing Scarlet again was drudging up all sorts of things better left in the past. This memory was quite amusing, however. He hadn’t been very creative in his youth. He’d been too angry. All that rage had burned itself out after... hmm, after another something he couldn’t remember. He’d been such a serious young man. Whatever had happened to lighten him up was clearly needed. He tested the straps holding him down, but he was still too wiped out to make any headway. Sleep was tugging at his eyelids again. He may as well get the rest. He wanted to be ready when Scarlet showed up. Besides, he might have more dreams of his past.

**********

After meeting Leon and Gob the night before time had seemed to speed up. I picked up some groceries on the way home, and Leon had called me to tell me he’d got the guns and located two people who could take care of the surprise I’d planned. I hurried the food home and went right back out.

On a Thursday night at nine o’clock Maloney Street wasn’t very busy. A small cluster of cars were parked in front of Betty’s House of Pies. I parallel parked among them and entered the twenty-four hour pie shop. Leon had told me I would easily spot the couple. He was correct. In a corner booth that commanded a view of the entire room sat the most striking couple I’d ever seen. That they’d wanted to meet at a pie house almost made me laugh. People don’t get model-like bodies from eating pie, and these two had to be models. The male oozed charisma. He wore his black hair fashionably shaggy, and a five o’clock shadow enhanced his chiseled jaw. The female was reed thin and all legs. Her glossy brunette hair was cut asymmetrically, and her angular face was softened by large doe eyes. Mr. Perfect’s green eyes caught sight of me, and he stood. In a thick Russian accent he greeted me. "You must be Leon’s friend. He was not lying. You have very distinct hair." I didn’t know how to respond to the remark, so I ignored it.

"Yes, I’m Leon’s friend." I confirmed.

"Excellent. Please, have some pie. The pecan is a specialty." He motioned for me to sit across from him and his partner. "I am Sergei, and this is my sister, Trina." He made introductions while doling out a slice of the already cut into pie. Apparently beautiful people do eat pie.

"I’m Rebecca, and, if it’s all the same, I’d like to get to business. I’m on a tight schedule." Trina gave me an approving smile.

"My brother, he likes to watch lovely women eat pie... it is a fetish for him. Please, ignore him and list your requirements." Again, I had no idea how to respond. I definitely didn’t want the pie. I shoved it away.

"I need a fire to take out Brentwood Academy. It should destroy all the records and computers. I want cameras inside of and outside of the building. I want it streaming to a live feed for as long as possible." Trina shrugged.

"A simple task. Leon led me to believe there is more involved."

"There is. I need you to kidnap three people. Two of them should be inside Brentwood when it burns. I want the third taken to a separate location."

"You are a no nonsense woman. I admire that." Sergei’s green eyes were lit up with amusement.

"Again, child’s play." Trina pouted. Clearly she relished a challenge.

"I need it all set up to happen by midnight tomorrow night. It could take longer, but I’ll call you to let you know when to torch the school." Now her face brightened.

"I am confident my brother and I can accommodate your needs." She grinned.

"Excellent. I made a file for you with the exact instructions, names and locations of the people, blueprints of the school, maps of everything and the combination and key to the second location. It’s in my car along with half your fee." I explained.

"Very good, Miss Rebecca. Now, let us seal the deal with pie... perhaps lemon meringue is more to your tastes?"

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Author’s Note: Sorry for the short chapter, more coming soon!