CHAPTER 4

BLACK MARKET DOCTORS

Following Tyrell into the shady looking building he parked in front of, or whoever was driving the car parked in front of, he told Theresa to head back to the bar, said she wasn't needed for whatever it was we were going to do. While she was reluctant at first, I soon convinced her that whatever it was that I had gotten myself into was something she did not want to be a part of. Surprisingly, she agreed. After that, she was escorted by one of Tyrell's mercs back to the RDP bar, where I'm sure she had quite a bit of explaining to do with fellow NYPD.

The funny looking building Tyrell took me to was broken down, run down, whatever you wanna call it. It was old, and it looked fucked up. Like it's been a prop building of too many mobster movies or something. Maybe perhaps it's been in real violent mob-like events. I couldn't tell for sure, but I knew this place wasn't your average run-of-the-mill creepy building. It was a secluded building in a secluded forest with the Washington Bridge right off in the distance. The bandages still wrapped around my arm made me feel kind of stiff, and the sharp pain persisted, though it wasn't as bad as before.

Tyrell and I, along with four or so mercs on guard duty, stood in front of a rusty steel door. A few indents and bullet holes through the door could be seen under the moonlight. In fact, looking at the ground I could tell that that's not the only thing riddled in bullets. Tyrell took out a sheet of paper from his jacket. At this point I wondered just how much crap he has inside that thing. At any rate, he took the sheet of paper, marked with a strange insignia, slid it underneath the door and waited. I was wondering what exactly we were waiting for.

"A black market doctor?" I thought "Just what the hell kind of profession is that? He's one of the Conway kids?8 I need to know more."

Just as I opened my mouth the door suddenly creaked opened slowly, and a tall man with a mustache stood behind the door, hidden the darkness while the moon lit just only a portion of his face. Not saying a word, the two giants that stood before me only looked into each other's eyes menacingly. I was certain one of them was going to pull out a gun, like a wild west scenario or something. The mustached man was then sticking something out from the shadows, and I swear what I saw was a gun, but in actuality, as it came into the light, I started to realize that it was the same envelope that Tyrell inserted into the door.

The man spoke with a deep and gruff voice "There is no doctor here. You must be mistaken." He had a very distinct Russian accent. Like the kind you'd hear from a typical Bond flick.

"You must be the one who's mistaken," replied Tyrell "we're not here for a doctor."

"Then why?"

"We want to learn about the weather."

"It's very clear tonight."

"But clouds are coming. In fact, it might rain." To this response, the Russian man's eyes widened.

"You'll need shelter from the rain." He widens the door for us. "Come in."

Tyrell looks back at me, and he gestures me to follow him. Not wanting to stay outside with the big guys with guns, I happily oblige. As soon as I cross through the door where the Russian once stood, the smell of blood and smoke filled the air. It was pungent and had a hold on the atmosphere of things. The hallway soon ended on a stairway, and we descended down the flight of stairs. We just kept going down and down, but no end in sight. Seeing as how this'd be the perfect time to ask anything, and to disperse the awkward silence Tyrell and I had, I asked a few questions.

"Tyrell, what was that all about?"

"What was what all about?"

"That conversation back there. You gave the guy some letter, then started babbling about the weather. What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's a safety lock. A conversation to update each other on the current situation while also pushing away the idiots."

"Really?" I asked as I scratched my head. "So, what exactly was this little 'secret' conversation all about?"

"He told us the weather's clear, means we can come and go. No cops anywhere, not that busy, relatively safe environment. Heh, kinda shocking actually. It's usually not like that."

"So I'm guessing the whole 'rain' talk was about the Devil's Hand, huh?"

"Yep. Smart man."

We were still descending. It's incredibly deep and incredibly dark, I started hearing buzzing noises and groans from down below. It was as if I was about to enter a horror movie or something. The walls had scratch marks, and I mean deep scratches. Like someone had a machete fight here or something. The stairs were red, probably from all the blood this particular staircase has seen. There's no way Tyrell was taking me just to see a doctor, whoever came through these stairs and building have seen way more violence and have endured much more than just a bullet wound. No, Tyrell wanted me to see my half-brother. He wanted to make sure I see him face to face. Why exactly? I'm not sure. I wanted no part of this, I was hurled into this mess like a rocket launching into space. And yet, I still think about when Theresa asked me to go with her to the hospital. I said no. I think about it as if it was something that would haunt my dreams, even though it happened just a few hours ago. Even now, I have yet to say "No, Tyrell. I will not go with you". Either I'm more morbidly curious about where all this is headed, or I was just too stupid to say anything.

I prodded for a few more answers. "You seem pretty familiar with the lingo, Tyrell. Been here before?"

"Once, and that was earlier tonight.'

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, came here to warn the roosky about the Devil's Hand. I knew one of their doctors was a Conway, just didn't know which one. Heh, if you thought that last conversation was cryptic, you should've seen me talk to him before."

"So, one of them is my half brother, but you don't know which one? Couldn't you have just asked them?"

"None of them have their real name associated with them when they're here. All of them have some sort of pseudonym."

"But Mikey's in trouble. I'm pretty damn sure he'd drop his secret identity if he knew that."

"Yeah, you'd think that, but all these guys want is money. You can tell them the whole fucking nation is after them, and they'd just reply with 'when's my next paycheck'."

"C'mon man, he can't be that damn money grubbing."

"Yeah?" Suddenly, both Tyrell and I were in front of a door at the bottom of the stairway. Tyrell barges in with me directly behind him. In the giant hospital-like room, there were several doctors of all shapes and sizes, but they all had that distinct sleazy look on them. The ones who weren't busy operating or whatever looked our way with interest. Tyrell stood there for a second, sizing them all up. Finally he bellows out "Who here is Michael Conway?"

Immediately after saying that, a group of doctors began haggling with Tyrell. Some yelled out "WHY? ARE YOU GOING TO PAY US IF WE TELL YOU?" while others replied "I DON'T KNOW, BUT I'M A BETTER DOCTOR, AND I'M CHEAPER". They were all making some sort of statement, like they were selling us something, whether it'd be info or their own services. Their yells were as diverse as their skin color. Some were yelling in Spanish, others were talking with a very thick accent. Not just Russian, the accents ranged from Indian, to British, to even Japanese. These were all traitors of the profession, honorless little shits that crawled back underground like the little rats that they were. Though I had no trouble feeling at home here.

"Tyrell, are you crazy!?" I said in a hushed yet angry tone. "Won't you get shot for asking shit like that!?"

"Nope. They don't care. Besides, at least we know who isn't Mikey."

"What do you mean?"

"If the real Mikey were here, he'd probably be right out the exit by now, and so far I didn't see anyone run."

"He could've crawled."

"I wouldn't." Tyrell pointed to the floor, and I looked down. I saw all this blood, just pools of it and bacteria and just the absolute worst floor my boots have ever tread on. I was just downright disgusted, I guess the sheer fascination of the squad of goon doctors made me forget where I was. I felt like gagging, and I came damn close to actually throwing up, but fuck. I really didn't wanna see my bile mixing with the blood, so I kept it in. "Come on," he continued "let's go find your brother."

We walked all over, searching for my brother. My brother. How crazy is it that my brother was somewhere here amongst the worst of the worst? It was surreal. Actually it was surreal that I even had a brother in the first place, and a doctor brother no doubt! I was excited, but also disgusted. Not just by the absolutely atrocious floor, the screams going on in the background, and the sound of bones and guts being cut and tossed around respectively, but by the fact that Jake Conway somehow managed to reproduce two scumbags on this planet. I was one of the two, and what about those names I saw on that list? Surely some of them were prostitutes, whores, pimps, thugs, lowlifes, lawyers, and probably even a corrupt cop or two. Jake had several children, and he made sure they'd never creep up to his life for as long as he lived. I could see why, the family reunion would've been absolutely crazy. I wanted to know more about these other "kids".

"Tyrell, on that list I read a ton of Conway kids. Beside their names was a red mark, what exactly does that mark mean?"

"It means they died." Tyrell's voice was gruffer than before, it sounded more serious and at the same time it sounded regretful. For a man who claims he doesn't care about Jake or his issues, he sure doesn't act like it. Maybe they were closer than I had thought.

I continued "Died? Does that mean-"

"No." he cuts me off "Well, not all of them. Some of them died due to an outside source, like murder or health issues. But yes...some of them did die because of the Devil's Hand, but that's just recently."

"How can you tell?"

"They left their calling card on their victims. Three sixes on their stomachs. The mark of the beast, the Devil himself."

"Fuck...how many of them have had that mark?"

"Three. Three of them."

Even though I had no idea who they were, other than the names I saw on that piece of paper, I had a strange feeling in my gut. I wanted to feel sad, but I had no real purpose of being sad. I didn't know them, I never will, but they were still my brothers and sisters. I'd be totally heartless if I hadn't felt something. At least, in that moment, I realized that I wasn't so cold after all.

"His name is Mikey, right?"

"Well, Michael. But Jake always called him Mikey."

I stopped in my tracks "Hold the fucking phone, so he really IS Jake's son!"

Tyrell looks back with one eyebrow raised. "You're all his kids."

"No no," I stammered "what I mean is, he was actually raised by Jake himself...wasn't he?"

"Well yeah. I'd figure you'd take the hint from the fact that his name was Mikey. Ya know? After his dead brother?" Tyrell smirked, then chuckled, then started laughing loud as hell. Sounded really bizarre amongst the cries of agony. All I wanted was confirmation on this shit, he didn't need to laugh at my face like a jackass.

Suddenly, a door opened and slammed into Tyrell. It nearly knocked him flat on his back, but seeing just how fit the old geezer was, it didn't do much but throw him aback and stop his obnoxious laugh. On the other side of the door was a slim looking fella wearing a doctor's uniform and had bleached blonde hair, and a clean shave. He was looking down, directly at, what I assume was his cellphone. The man looked lost in thought and sighed heavily.

"Mother fucker!" shouted Tyrell "Fucking hit me in the face."

This caught the doctor's attention. "Oh! Oh goodness, I'm really sorry! I-I didn't know!"

"Yeah, no shit! I can tell by the fact that you were too busy jerking off your phone there!"

"I'm sorry, really! I'll help fix you, are you bleeding? Are you severely hurt?" He got closer to Tyrell. He was brave for even thinking about getting that close to an angry and old black giant like him.

Tyrell pushed him off "Yeah I'm hurt, but I'm not stupid! I know you hurt me on purpose so you can heal me for 'cheap'! Am I right!?"

"No, no sir!" said the irritatingly fragile doctor. "I just came back from a very important call, that's all!"

"Bullshit!" Suddenly Tyrell's angry demeanor changed, now he seemed more shocked than he did angry. Both the doctor and I were confused for that moment, and suddenly Tyrell came closer to the scrawny guy and said "My God...you look just like him."

"I'm sorry?" the doctor said "Look like who?"

"Your father. You look just like him."