Chapter 29
Nancy
"I hope I'm getting cash for this job, Gina."
My eyes suddenly flew open, finding a pair that were blue and wide and familiar. They shot me in the heart. They made my breath hesitate in my lungs. But they were alive. He was alive.
At first he was shocked to see me, but then the light sank away from his gaze and the only thing left standing was a disappointment so potent I could almost taste it—like a sinking ship. Like it was all for nothing. I was here, standing before him, and we were both going to die.
"Whatever makes you happy, Nico," Gina laughed, flicking her revolver around in her hand, as if for the sole purpose of bringing it to my attention. "But remember, your apparition days are over. I should think you'd be happy with a mere crust. Especially from me."
Nico grunted and let go of my hands with more force than he'd taken hold of them, shoving me forward. I caught myself on the cold metal wall, noticing out of my peripheral vision how Joe flinched. My hands rested on the metal wall and I looked down, at the flooring beneath my feet. It was large white and pink tiles. I suddenly knew exactly where I was.
"I'll take that, Fausto." Nico said, stepping forward and freeing the gun from the hands of a tallish guy with dark hair.
Fausto? I was surprised at the mention of his name, and when I looked up I recognized that face. I remembered how he'd talked to me backstage at the Club Micio only a few nights prior.
I could barely breathe. My fingers felt cold and cramped against the metal. My gaze shot to Joe. His eyes were full of meaning, full of words unspoken. I felt empty, hollow, in shock. I wanted to scream. My throat was tight. How could this be happening?
There he stood before me. It was like our conversation the night before was transcribed on the walls around us, like he was the fulfillment of his own prophesy. I could still remember the way his skin felt under my fingertips—the crosshairs scarring his back. It was branding him, and not just between his shoulder blades where nobody could see—it was out on his face now, expressing itself in a look I'd only seen once before, when he told me that he wouldn't let anyone else die in his place.
I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to ignore the guns that would have willingly fired at me. I wanted to grab that boy by the shoulders and shove him against the wall and scream, "Why did you do this?" But I couldn't. Instead I had to swallow it all back and figure out a game plan.
Had Nico not revealed the identity of the tallish woman standing in the middle of the room, I would never have known that she was Gina. In my imaginings, I'd expected the illusive Scaramuccia to be a small, stealthy girl who was barely past twenty. But she turned out to be almost the opposite. Though she could boast the appearance of a professional spy, she was the most outward and obvious member of the entire crime ring I'd thus encountered. At least she was now, as she held us captive in the storage warehouse, with no one to witness what was about to unfold.
Fausto had left the room with a brief order from Gina, which I'd missed in my fury of thought. Now Nico took his place at the door, guarding the only exit. I took my gaze back to Gina, who was studying me as if she hadn't had the opportunity to do so until now.
"I know," she said, almost sympathetically. "You have many questions. And it's only fair to answer someone's questions, isn't that right?"
Her gaze shifted to Joe, whose eyes hadn't deviated from the gun in her hand since she started talking. There he was, expecting it. Death. He could already see it happening.
"First and foremost, you want to know who I am." Gina said. "Scaramuccia, in charge of dead-drops and communication with Antonio Fango." She turned to face Joe, with a particular look glinting in her dark eyes. "Samantha Quick, in charge of deception and discretion…"
My gaze snapped to hers, just as she turned to face me—only for the purpose of drilling this information in through my eyes. Hers flashed with something sinister as a slow smile came to rest on her lips.
"And Il Dottore. In charge of everything." She finished, looking satisfied with my reaction.
"What?" I heard the word escape me in an exhale.
"You look surprised, Nancy Drew," Gina laughed under her breath, slowly approaching me. "Did you never expect it?"
I felt my jaw tense slightly, as I decided that I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a reply. Instead I just squared my shoulders and answered with a question.
"Who else knows that you are Il Dottore?"
"Very few people, actually." Gina said, stopping two feet in front of me. "People who either have their lives in my hands," her gaze switched to Nico for a moment. "Or people whose lives I am about to dispose of."
I felt my heart shimmying back up into my throat, bringing the familiar taste of bitter disgust. "Dispose of?" I reiterated the words, though I needed no confirmation of them.
Gina nodded anyway. "Like paper to a shredder."
I had no idea what the expression on my face looked like, until Gina exhaled a quiet laugh in reply to it.
"Oh, don't look so scared, love—it's not as if you're going to die first." She took a few steps backwards, returning to her stance in the middle of the room. "I wouldn't dream of doing that. Not when a far greater temptation lies waiting at my fingertips."
With these words she nodded slowly in the direction of her vision—to Joe, who hadn't moved a muscle through Gina's entire speech thus far. Instead he just looked at her, with such intensity.
I felt myself slowly shaking my head, but words didn't come until a moment later. "I don't understand. Why would you want to kill Joe? He hasn't done anything to you."
"What one does to Sonitrico, one does to me."
"But I've done more to injure Sonitrico," I said. "Haven't I?"
Gina's expression somehow remained neutral. "Of course you have. You and your little cronies from the GdiF have made me suffer more than you know. But I work well under pressure. And now it's my turn to give you a taste of the poison you so willfully inflicted upon me."
"What poison?" I asked, trying to keep her talking.
"Are you deaf or unintelligent?" Gina snapped, her knuckles whitening around the handle of the gun. "You have made me suffer, Nancy. You have stolen my identity and played an imposter. So now, your payment—I return the favor. I make you suffer. I steal your happiness, your hope, your life. But first, I steal his life."
She spun around, lifting her revolver and aiming it perfectly at Joe, as if she'd already rehearsed the motion a thousand times in her head.
"No!" I screamed, but Gina hadn't planned on pulling the trigger. Not yet. It was just a scare. Though she kept it pointed firmly at his chest. Her finger was poised. Ready.
"Hear her scream?" Gina smiled a little, giving a sympathetic shrug with the shoulder that wouldn't impair her gun's aim.
Joe didn't respond. I noticed a swallow slip down his throat. His skin glistened with a light sweat.
"The sound of desperation." Gina laughed—a mumbled, exhaled laugh that wasn't really a laugh at all. "I'd tell you to get used to it, but…there's no need. I like you, so I'll put you out of your suffering much quicker."
"Gina, stop. I'm the one you want dead. I'm the one who took your identity, the one who stood in for you when Tazza wanted the Sadal Melik sapphire stolen. I'm the one who committed that crime in your name!"
"Crime?" Gina laughed, her focus derailed by my words. "Have you really not connected the dots yet? I was watching that 'crime' in real-time on the security cameras, love. Do you really believe this warehouse belongs to Vladimir Thanatos?"
I felt my eyebrows pull together as I understood it all perfectly. "So this place belongs to you? I stole a sapphire from you, only to give it back?"
"Well done." Gina nodded slowly. "I'd applaud you, but as you can see, my hands are full."
"So that entire theft was just a setup?" I asked, feeling my heart picking up the pace as Gina refused to bring her gaze back to me.
I was trying to buy Joe some time, but he didn't seem to want it. His head was down. Submissive.
"Did Tazza know that it was a setup?"
"Why does it matter?" Gina snapped, making Nico flinch slightly. "Why do you care? Curiosity, I presume? That infectious strain that has you all under its influence?"
Why hasn't he thought of something? Come on, Joe. We can get out of this. Of course we could. But did he want to? I couldn't tell.
"Tazza believed the story of Vladimir just as much as you did. But he doesn't know the truth. He'll never know the truth. Now shut up. I don't have an infinite amount of time here." Gina spat out those last few words like I was her dog to be commanded. Then she turned to Joe, who was looking straight at her. "Like I said before, we have a job to get done. I need you to do your part."
My heart begged for more oxygen, beating in my throat.
"Your part is to follow through with my plan," she continued, still not lowering her revolver. "And make her suffer. I can't do it alone. I need you to do just one little thing for me, alright?"
Joe's eyes pressed shut, then opened again. She was the only thing he was focused on now. He inhaled. I couldn't.
"Just one little thing." Gina said, her tone flat and unfeeling. "Die."
Bang!
A scream wrenched itself away from my lungs, but all I heard was silence. Silence as Gina let her gun back down to her side.
Silence as Joe collapsed to the floor.
FlightFeathers: Haha yes... Samantha Quick still has a few tricks up her sleeve. ;) Joe definitely won't let himself get killed (if he can help it.) I'm sorry it's so confusing! I hope this chapter cleared a few things up. The plot definitely gets a little complicated toward the end. xD I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Drumboy100: Thank you so much! Your review made my day. :)
