Galilee Rising(100)

"You know how he is," V says with an astonished smile.

"Both of them. Cain is also known by INTERPOL and our government as The Mockingbird. General mercenary work and assassinations. According to a source, five years ago he carried out one such assassination for James Ryder's syndicate, victim unknown. Since returning to the city, he has used several former employees of Ryder's, including Danny Watkins and Gary Acevedo."

"Do the police have this information?"

"Yes. You should contact Harry O'Hara for verification, though he might not be able to comment on an ongoing investigation."

"Why have you waited to share this?"

"I was…protecting Lord Nightingale. When all the evidence came to light, and I realized just how culpable he was for this entire fiasco, and how he wouldn't do the one thing to keep us safe--leave--I couldn't remain silent a day longer. He doesn't get to sit in his lab and walk our streets with impunity while his brother murders our citizens. Not anymore."

"His lab?" V's face almost lights up as it dawns on her. "It's Jonathan Ambrose, isn't it?"

Here we are. Moment of truth. Just rip off the Band-Aid, Jo. "Y--"

RING RING!

Oh, thank the dear Lord. My cell phone rings in my pocket. Its melody is sweeter than a million symphonies combined. Thank you, thank you, thank you God. I'm donating hefty sums to a church of every denomination, I swear it. With a shaking hand, I pull it out. "Sorry, V. Give me a sec." Unknown caller. "Joanna Fallon."

"Is your cousin still there?" a familiar voice asks.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

"You know damn well who this is. Get out of earshot of your cousin. We have to talk."

I smile at V. "I'm sorry, I have to take this. Just watch TV or something until I get back." I rise from the couch and return to the patio on shaky legs. Adrenaline surge. Getting damn sick of those. "How do you know my cousin's here?"

"I have my ways. Just as I have my ways of knowing the reason for said meeting. I'm resourceful." He pauses. "Quite a vindictive bitch, aren't you? A man turns you down for sex, and you're ready to serve him up to every reporter, two-bit villain, and citizen with a pitchfork. In other circumstances, I believe we could have been friends."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm doing this to rid my town of you. Your brother is just collateral damage. He leaves, you leave. I gave him several opportunities to do it the easy way. He declined."

"And what makes you believe I'd just up and abandon my new home just because he does?"

"Well, you're not blowing up Independence anymore, are you? You saying I'm wrong?"

The other end is silent for a few seconds. "What exactly do you want, Miss Fallon?"

"Simple. You gone. Galilee safe. That's it. And right now the only way I can see to accomplish that is for the pitchfork and torch brigade to run your brother out of town. They will, you know. I have the money and resources to make sure of it. Your brother will be given no quarter anywhere in this world. I am about to make him the most famous, reviled man on this planet, with you right alongside him. Both of your faces, all of your aliases, your entire sordid history is about to become front page news. Maybe you don't care, although many of your business associates probably don't want to hire an unhinged, incestuous homosexual I'm guessing. Even if you don't care, the brother you profess to love sure as hell will. So leave. And never return."

More silence. "You'd really do it, wouldn't you?"

"Hell, yes. So, come on. Be your big brother's hero. Save his life. Agree to leave."

"And you'd take my word for it?"

"Oh, hell no. My private plane, with me onboard, will take you to the destination of your choice far, far away. And should you hit town again, I release the information. Should I not return from our trip, I've taken steps to make sure the information is released."

"Not good enough. There's no guarantee for me that you won't disseminate it just because you've had a bad day or are on your period or something. Or perhaps this is all just a set-up? Police will be waiting on the plane."

"I'm open to suggestions," I say.

"Mutually assured destruction. I want ten million in untraceable diamonds. And I'm going to require photographs and audio of you paying me off and giving me the royal treatment on my way out of town. Aiding and abetting a known terrorist, a big no no."

"I can live with that. I am going to need a day or so to get the diamonds."

"You have twenty-four hours."

"Fine."

"Also, a few ground rules. This stays between us. No police, no supers, no weapons, no tracers or bugs. If I get even a whiff of subterfuge, not only will I kill you, your cousin, your butler, even your assistant, but I'll blow up Pendergast Industries with everyone inside."