"Alvarez!" the guard up at the station called him over, looking at the clipboard. "You got an appointment."
"Where'm I goin'?"
"You'll find out," and he beckoned over the nearest officer. Lopresti's hand on his arm didn't feel threatening this time and soon he would never have to worry about it again. He didn't bother to ask what excuse his escort had used to get them both out here, as with his heart racing, he skipped down the service stairs leading the way to the corridor they had chosen for the 'deed'.
Lopresti was tardier, smirking at Alvarez who waited impatiently for him, hand on the door. "Tell me why you expect Robson to come down here." It seemed unlikely that the man would just walk into Alvarez' trap unprepared.
Turning his back, Miguel drew a short piece of metal he'd brought to jimmy the lock. That was his 'chore' before the others came. It wouldn't take much, these service doors were a piece of piss. "He accidentally overheard that it's a place me 'n' Tob...me 'n' Beecher use." Lopresti took the pause as reticence in speaking of his 'lover' as he'd already shown how easy it was for him to get at the man, but Alvarez was shaken. The lock was already broken.
Crap! Was Robson already there lying in wait with backup instead of the other way around? Swapping the metal for the shank retrieved from his waistband, it wasn't as if the Hack would be surprised at it's presence, he took a breath saying softly, "Com'on" and hearing that baton being drawn, pushed the door open, quickly moving in, blade ready to defend or better to attack. Three steps and he froze, stunned, trying to take in the scene before him.
It all happened so fast. Alvarez was pulled violently forwards and pushed to the wall by O'Riely as stepping around him Beecher drove his long jagged blade up, deep into Lopresti's chest, his other hand grabbing the back of the startled man's neck, pulling him further onto the shank and into the corridor. Cyril closed the door and stood nervously by the wide eyed Alvarez.
Lopresti sank to his knees, the baton falling to the ground as he feebly tried to hold onto Beecher. Miguel never wanted to see that look on Toby's face again. It wasn't the Toby he knew as he gave one last upwards pull to the shank, breaking off the grip, then stood back to watch as the Hack breathed his last before falling to the ground.
He laughed looking to Alvarez who just stood staring back in horror. The smile fled from his face. O'Riely let go of him and he moved to Beecher looking around him. Robson was without a doubt, dead. He'd put up a fight judging by the amount of defensive wounds and appeared almost butchered but the other three were relatively unscathed.
Beecher stripped off his bloodied fleece, throwing it to Cyril who stuffed it in a bag and turning, was grabbed by Miguel. He turned back at the hands clutching up his T-shirt on his chest and stood unresponsive as Miguel pushed and pulled at him. "You Fuckin' Bastard. You knew this was my kill!"
Beecher grabbed hold of his wrists, forcing him back, the hand still holding the remains of his blade which was close to cutting him. He grabbed the back of Miguel's head, repeating the action of moments before, pulling him close and said steadily into his ear, eyes fixed on the watching brothers, "Now you know how I felt!" and releasing him, stepped away. Miguel sagged, rocking on unsteady legs.
Ryan once more pulled Miguel to the side, hissing, "Beecher. Move it," and they got busy, arranging things and cleaning up.
Changing into identical clothes, all the bloodstained ones were collected along with any trace of their presence. Nodding satisfied at the story left behind with the rough taped shank grip as if fallen from Robson's hand, Ryan signalled the retreat and Beecher had to drag Alvarez from moving to Robson's corpse. "Enough, we're gone."
"No. I have to..."
"No. We go now!"
"But the eyes! I..." and Toby had to practically pick him up, dragging him back and out into the stairwell.
"Don't fight me, Miguel," he ordered as he struggled to release his arms from Beecher's encircling grip.
"Fuck this. Com'on, Cyril, we're outta here." Ryan had had more than enough.
"Wait!" hissed Beecher as Alvarez went limp. "Miguel? How did you get Lopresti down here?"
"He brought me. Why?"
"Fuck!" from both Beecher and O'Riely.
Realisation struck as Beecher released him. "No… They saw him take me out of Em City!"
"What'd he say? How'd he get you out?" questioned Ryan.
"I dunt... I dunt know! I was told I had an appointment. No one said why." He was beginning to panic, swaying from foot to foot and grabbing at his head.
The last thing O'Riely, any of them needed, he thought was Alvarez going loco on them. He took charge, thinking on his feet, which he'd had to become so good at. "Put your shank away," he instructed and slipped back into the corridor.
"¡¿Qué?" Alvarez said bewildered after him. Beecher gently took hold of his wrists, pulling his arms down as Miguel turned frightened eyes to his saying, "Toby?" in a small voice.
"It'll be alright. I've not done all this to lose you now." He took the blade from his unresisting hand and, turning him, replaced it in his jean's waistband knowing exactly where he kept it.
Ryan was back with the Hack's handcuffs. "Alvarez, come here."
"No. No way, man," as Ryan grabbed his arm, dragging him stumbling up a flight of stairs and, against opposition, with Beecher's help, cuffed him to the handrail.
"!¿Qué pinches putos? What the fuck you doin'?" his voice rising in pitch. "Don't you fuckin' leave me here? Toby?" he couldn't believe what they were doing and he pulled hard on the cuffs.
Pushing Beecher to move back down the stairs, Ryan told him, "Just shut the fuck up and listen."
"But the shank... They'll find the shank. They'll think I did it!" not being able to think.
"If you still got it… you ain't used it. Now listen."
Beecher stared into Miguel's eyes that were pleading with him. No, he didn't want to leave him there sitting on a step, cuffed to the railings. He looked so helpless. A tugging on his sleeve and he looked to Cyril. "Beecher. I hear someone." Footsteps descending.
"O'Riely," he called low, "We go now!" and left Alvarez watching him in disbelief then looking up to watch for the descending footsteps. He hoped it was Hacks. Being found like this by another con would not be good. Hell, being found like this was not good at all.
==000==
TBC...