Chapter 6 #4
"Is all in Italian." He gestures at the console. "But maybe you like to play the Call of Duty game."
"Works for me," Killian says, grinning as he beelines for the device.
I snort. "Figures."
Enzo yawns. "Okay. We must go to the ferry offices to buy the…cazzo, I am too tired for the English—i biglietti. To get onto the ferry. It departs at twelve of the clock. Si? We cannot miss it or we have to wait until eleven at the nighttime."
"We won't miss it," Killian assures him. "Go sleep, man, you look done in."
"Sì, I am like a dead man."
He shuffles, visibly dragging himself down the hallway. A door closes with a quiet click, and then Killian and I are alone, sort of.
We both wait in silence, although it isn't immediately apparent what we're waiting for.
"You still trust him?" I ask Killy.
He shrugs. "Unclear. Everything he's saying sounds reasonable, and fits with the scenario. That story about the girls being trafficked does reek of what I’ve overheard about Pugli."
"But?" I prompt.
"But…" he shakes his head and rolls a shoulder again. "It's just been too damned easy. I have to assume we're high-value targets, but they leave us alone with a single guard?"
I tip my head to the side. "That's not what has warning bells going off. It's more what you said—the whole thing is too easy."
"Pugli doesn't leave things to chance," Killian says. "I've been in on a few of the briefings about the guy, considering all that's gone on lately. And yeah, too easy."
"So we agree Enzo is sus and we have to keep a close eye on him?" I ask.
"Yeah," he answers, his voice slow and hesitant. "I want to like the guy. I want him to be what he seems. But you're right, something is sus in this whole situation."
Killian has by this time figured out the TV and console and has an offline, single-player game loading. "Sucky thing is, if this was a game I play, I could maybe reach someone I know, but no one I know plays this online anymore."
"We’re better off with the burner."
"Should we try calling someone right now?"
I shake my head. "No. We need to reach the mainland.
Unless Enzo is playing some long con on us, none of Pugli's people know what's happened or where we are.
That works to our advantage. Uncle Lear always preaches that you have to assume any line of communication is compromised, unless you set up the encryption yourself.
We don't know anything about the provenance of that burner.
For all we know, it's linked directly to Pugli, and we make a call and next thing we know, a kill squad is at the door. "
Killian, now traipsing through a level in the video game, flicks an impressed look at me. "You're clearly way better at this spy shit than I am."
"Yeah, well, I may be an expert marksman, but I doubt I'd have pulled off those three kills as neatly and quickly as you did."
The sound of automatic weapons fire erupts from the TV, and Killian focuses on the level for a few minutes, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth.
I watch him play until he gets killed in-game and tosses the controller aside in frustration, only to pick it back up.
He doesn’t start again, though, but sits there staring at it, idly twiddling the little thumb stick.
"I'm struggling with that," he mutters. "I keep seeing it. Them. It just happened so goddamn fast. Like, thank god it was them and not some lost little old lady or a kid something."
"That's the training, Killy," I tell him. "That's why you run the room clearing exercises a hundred thousand times. It’s second nature at this point to assess and react almost instantly."
He stares at the controller in his hands. "I don't, like…regret it. I had to do it. But still…I killed three men in less time than it takes to…to fuckin’…I don’t know—unlock a phone."
"You couldn't have done anything else, Killy, and to be honest, you need to come to grips with it fast, because I've got a feeling that's going to be just the start."
He nods. "I know." A pause. "I really, really fucking hope Enzo is a good guy."
"Me too, Killy. He seems like a super nice guy." I sigh. "But the problem is, people can be super nice to your face and then shoot you in the back."
"Wow, Story," Killian deadpans. "That's just so comforting. Thank you for that thought. Let me just go and never trust anyone again.”
I cackle. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you under the impression you could in the first place? It's a dog-eat-dog world out here, kiddo."
He frowns at me. "Kiddo?" A snort. "Okay, then, grandma.”
I shove him playfully. "Grandma? Kiddo could be a term of endearment, but grandma? Fuck you! I'm twenty-seven!"
He lets me push him again, and then grabs me by the wrist and yanks me toward him. I fall against him, laughing breathlessly, and he goes to his back, letting the console controller topple to the floor as his hands come to rest on my mid-back, just below my bra line.
"You'd better be careful, sir," I whisper. "You're playing with fire."
"Am I?" His eyes search my face, linger on my lips. "So burn me."