I sat in my shiny black Hammerhead at fifteen till six, waiting. I'd parked a few blocks away from the church - the spire loomed like a tombstone off to my left, but I didn't like looking at it. It was nothing like the church I'd known as a new recruit. Nothing like the base of operations it'd used to be five years ago. Now it was just another symbol of Ultor's mission to ultimately restructure all of Stilwater.
At its core, the company was no better than the gangs it condemned. Its sole purpose, after all, was control. Control of the city. Control of the population. Taking territory. Taking money.
Having power.
The Phillips' Building jutted up into the night on my right and my gaze kept wandering over to it, lingering on the window I'd blown out only a few weeks ago. It had been repaired already; Ultor had wasted no time in covering up that incident. They had moved on quickly, hoping the public would soon forget how easily the leader of a lowly, violent gang had wiped out their entire Board of Directors and then assassinated their Chairman in his own office.
Another common rule between them and us, it seemed: Show no weakness.
I sighed, pulling out the Vice I'd brought with me and taking it apart to do another cursory inspection and cleaning. Ultor had named a new Chairman the very next day. Fucking corporation. I still needed to set up a meeting with the new figurehead; I wanted to see what kind of man he was. Wanted to see if he needed to be dealt with, too.
But for now, I had more pressing business.
I saw Johnny, Shaundi, and Pierce approaching in the review mirror and began putting the Vice back together again. I generally preferred the .44, but in situations where I anticipated needing to reload more quickly, I always took the Vice.
Gat came up to the open driver's side window. "You're clear, boss."
I lifted one eyebrow as Shaundi and Pierce joined him. "You sure?"
"Well, yeah." He shrugged. "We didn't find shit in a ten-block radius. Toby took a 'copter up an' did an aerial sweep, but he didn't find shit, either. It could still be a trap, but I can't imagine what that little weasel could come up with that we wouldn't be able to find."
"You searched the church, too?"
"Yeah, of course."
"You didn't find any bombs?"
Johnny gave a snort, shaking his head. "No. Don't have to worry about that this time."
"Good." The three of them stepped back as I swung open the car door and got out. I shoved the Vice into the back of my waistband and noticed all three of them looking restless. "You got somethin' you wanna say?" I asked.
"You sure you don't want me to set up on one of these roofs?" Johnny blurted, as if he'd been waiting for me to ask. "I still got that sniper rifle; I know a good spot from that time we tried to off Vogel –"
"There aren't any bombs," I said.
"That doesn't mean -"
"So I can handle anything else." I shouldered between him and Pierce, heading toward the church.
"Boss," Pierce called after me, "what if he brings the calvary with him?"
"That's why I have you three," I said over my shoulder. "Keep a look out. You see anything suspicious, take action." I stopped suddenly, turned to face them. "But I swear to Christ, any of you take away my kill and I'll put a bullet through your head. I ain't fuckin' around."
I turned on my heel before any of them could reply and stalked off down the darkened street.
The church was quiet and empty when I entered it; the heavy thump of the door closing behind me echoed up into the vaulted stone ceiling. I kept the Vice ready in both hands and did a quick search of all visible nooks and crannies, just in case Dex or any of his Ultor cronies had come in after my lieutenants had left. But there was no one else there.
I was alone.
I took a deep breath of the smell. It still reeked of new carpet and new wood, all overlaid by the lingering, nauseating odor of incense. Candles lined the half-walls framing the alter, most of them lit, and the flickering light threw dancing shadows into the corners. I craned my neck upwards, peering into the heavily shadowed balcony, and my lip twitched with a sneer. I could barely make out the glimmer of the plaques detailing the history of the area, detailing the criminal exploits, ruthlessness, and evil of the Saints… the plaques bearing recordings of Julius' own voice… the epitome of hypocrisy…
The bell at the top of the spire gonged suddenly and I jumped, then swore at myself, spinning away from the sight of the plaques and pacing up and down the long, carpeted center aisle. The bell rung again, and again; a deep, resonating sound I could almost feel in my chest. My skin still prickled with the after-effects of adrenaline and I sucked in a few more deep breaths, trying to slow my heart, trying to regain control.
Jesus, I hated the smell of incense…
The bell chimed six times and then fell silent once more. I checked my watch. Six o'clock exactly. I stopped pacing, turned to face the door, and waited. The silence made my ears ring.
At seven minutes after six, I began to think I'd been played. I started to pace again, deciding I'd give the bastard three more minutes to get there, and then I was going to take a tank through the Phillips' Building's front doors. I'd always needed an excuse to use the Bear I'd stolen from those Masako fuckers, anyway.
The sound of the door opening and closing behind me made me smile. A warm rush of anticipation washed away my frustration and impatience and replaced it with a cold, calculating calm. The calm I felt before pulling the trigger. My hand tightened around the Vice grip, but I left it at my side as I turned around.
"The fuck took you so long?" I demanded, and then froze as I saw the person I'd expected to be Dex. It was not Dex. The calm vanished beneath a numbing wave of shock, followed quickly by rage. It was all I could do not to put a bullet between his eyes right then.
Too easy, too quick…
"You ain't Dex," Julius said as he walked casually up the aisle toward me, looking strange in the absence of purple and not seeming at all concerned that he now faced a man he'd tried to blow up.
"Neither are you." I strangled the words past a constricted throat. My hands trembled with the effort of restraining my trigger finger as he walked closer and closer, my mind already racing with things to do to Julius Little that could possibly repay him for what he'd put me through.
He squinted as he looked me up and down and I briefly wished I'd worn one of my suits. That would have made a lasting impression on the double-crossing bastard; would have showed him how far I'd come since waking up from the coma he'd put me in. I would have loved to have seen his reaction… but… it wouldn't have done to ruin another one. Shaundi had recently taken to forbidding me from wearing them when she thought there was a chance I'd come back to Purgatory smeared in blood. As annoying as that was, she did have a point. Replacing my wardrobe every few weeks got expensive.
"You look different," Julius said finally. "Did you –"
"I didn't do shit to my hair!" I barked, bringing up the Vice to point in his face, unable to restrain myself any longer. I was sick of people asking me that. Of course I looked different, and it wasn't my hair. It was all the burn scars marring my skin. The burn scars he gave me.
"You pullin' a gun on me?" He actually sounded surprised.
My lips twisted into a wicked smile. "Well," I drawled, "I didn't have time to plant a bomb in the church, so this'll have to do."
Something flickered across his face just then and I realized he hadn't known I knew about his secret. Well, now he knew. And now he properly appreciated his situation. "You don't know what the hell you talking about," he said, his casual tone suddenly serious.
"Why don't you educate me?"
"I don't gotta explain shit to you!" Julius snapped, his deep voice echoing through the church. He sounded like the boss I used to listen to. Like the man I used to respect… the man I used to trust…
"This is where we're going to have to agree to disagree," I said evenly, my glare never wavering, the Vice steady in my hand.
"Why don't you just put the gun down," he tried, like a parent to a stubborn child. "We both know you're not going to use it."
"Not yet," I snarled, and then I stepped forward and pistol-whipped him across the face.
The blow sent him to the floor with a grunt; he tried to roll away but I planted a foot on his chest, bringing the gun across his face a second time, and then again, and again. I let the rage course through me, let it power my arm, let the thought of what Julius had done to the Saints - to me - fuel the rage. Five years of my life… he'd been almost like a father to me… and he'd tried to kill me to save himself without a second thought.
He was our leader, for Christ's sake. He thought he could just walk away? Blow me up and act like nothing ever happened? Act like the Saints never existed? And then to tell me I didn't have the balls to shoot him…
I cocked the Vice.
"Stop!" he yelled, then coughed on blood, turning his head to spit a wad onto the carpet.
"Never thought I'd hear you beg, Julius," I sneered.
"I'm not beggin'," he shot back, "I'm tryin' to talk some sense into you. Dex wanted us in the same place."
That thought had formulated somewhere in the back of my mind long ago, but at the moment I didn't give a shit about anything except taking my revenge. "Yeah? Why'd he want that?"
The stained glass window to my right suddenly shattered; I brought the Vice around to face it only to see a familiar metal canister clatter to the floor at my feet.
A smoke grenade.
For a second I just stared at it, unwilling to delay my conversation with Julius. The screech of arriving tires and deep rumble of approaching tanks jarred me from my stupor and I stepped off of Julius.
"Can we kill each other later?" he asked.
I scowled, reaching down to help him up. If my own crew wasn't allowed to kill him for me, I sure as hell wasn't going to let the Masako soldiers get him. The smoke billowed from the grenade and wafted toward the ceiling, snaking around our legs and swiftly making it hard to see anything.
The sharp crack of a sniper rifle punctuated the growing chaos outside and I felt slightly reassured. At least Johnny had set up like he wanted. And Shaundi and Pierce and some more of my guys would be out there, too. They'd distract the Masako team long enough for Julius and me to get away.
"This way," I told Julius, motioning toward the back of the church just as another grenade sailed through the broken window. This one was not as benign as the first – it carried tear gas. I threw my arm over my mouth and nose and double-timed it to the rear exit, Julius close behind me.
The sniper rifle cracked again, and again. Now there was lots of shouting. The church's front doors burst open and an orange-clad, gas-mask-wearing commando team poured in; the leader barking orders as they fanned out, assault rifles held at the ready.
I didn't wait for them to see us. I fired over my shoulder as we ducked through into the church's storage area, forcing them to take cover long enough for us to disappear inside. Their returning rifle fire peppered the door as it shut behind us, sending wood splinters flying. We made our way quickly around the various church decorations and extra pews, hearing the sniper rifle working again.
"That your guy?" Julius asked, shoving a fake plant out of his way as he struggled to keep up with me.
"It's Gat," I said.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
My cell phone rang as we reached the door to outside. "Little busy right now, Shaundi," I quipped.
"Gat's covering the back exit for you," she said quickly, not wasting time with come-backs or pleasantries. "You'd better go fast, more are coming around."
"Way ahead of you," I said and then hung up. "Let's move," I said to Julius. He gave a nod and we bolted out the door, sticking to the shadowed wall as we jogged down the alleyway toward the open street. A Masako soldier rounded the corner suddenly and skidded to a halt when he saw us. He raised his rifle at the same time I raised the Vice, but another echoing shot from Johnny put him down.
"Nice," I muttered, stepping over the still-twitching body and leading Julius straight back to where my Hammerhead was parked. "Get in," I said, taking the driver's seat. To my surprise, Julius did as I said. Maybe he thought going with me would be better than being shot or arrested by the Masako team.
A bad decision on his part.
"Nice ride," he commented as he climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door.
I turned the ignition and revved the engine as I pulled away from the curb. I glanced over to him, at his bloodied face, and then to my nice white interior. "Just don't touch anything," I growled.