Nathaniel returns to the edge of the bed, putting a distance of eight feet between them.
"How did you catch on?" Nathaniel asks.
"Does it matter now?" Aleksey replies.
"I want to know."
"Since Sausalito, something has always been wrong."
"That is a shit answer."
"It is impossible to answer precisely, Nathaniel. You want me to say the bikers on the ferry who followed us? The fighting league co-owner in the lounge, but not attuned to an operation just a few floors below her? The haphazard Vegas incident in the office building, yet the apparent omniscience about our movements in Laughlin?"
"Is that all?" Nathaniel asks.
"No," Aleksey answers. "Only two guards manhandling a former world champion mixed martial arts fighter, whether supposedly drugged or not and with one leg in a cast? A man capable of killing them with one punch or kick? It's so damn ludicrous. Did you strike your own face before taking that picture with me? I sure as hell doubt you let either of them lay a finger on you."
"Anything else?"
"Sure. It all suggests a hidden hand, so to speak. Plus, there is your guy out there in the Mexican mask. Just on the other side of the door. Very sloppy, Nathaniel. He is the same guy who attached your indulgent sculpture to the helicopter wires at Belvedere Lagoon. One way or another, this is your operation or you never could have planted him in such a sensitive role with Cobra de Capello."
"It is impossible for you to guess or speculate whether that is true."
"No, I have a knack for faces," Aleksey says. "The rest speaks for itself. I imagine it is some type of despicable scheme to snare Zachary into servitude-exclusivity in the Cobra de Capello league-to pay off your debt or promise. Honestly, you believe he won't eventually figure this out and get his revenge?"
Nathaniel stomps his foot onto the floor with abounding force. The masked guard briefly opens the door before Nathaniel waves him away. Nathaniel leans toward Aleksey and smirks.
"There's more to you than I thought," Nathaniel trumpets. "Besides being intensely loyal, fairly strong, handsome and alert, you have a pretty good brain. I never expected you to end up on my payroll, Aleksey, but you have proved impressive. Now, I am thinking about fitting you onto my team."
"Does it not occur to you that would be yet another betrayal of your best friend?" Aleksey asks.
"Zachary knows I always have plans and schemes in the works. It is what I do. He and others benefit from my success too. As you just said, the results speak for themselves."
"They sure do. You brag because you think only of the world championship. The other reality is you have unnecessarily and recklessly put Zachary in grave danger."
"Wrong," Nathaniel counters. "It was necessary. It was a result of the deal that got us out from under the breach of contract lawsuits with Cobra De Capello. And it is not reckless either. My grand plan spares Zachary from getting hurt. Remember, I am always a few steps ahead of the rest of you."
"So, what's your big plan?"
"Remember to duck when the bullets start flying."
37
Choice
Zachary shifts his body deeper into the wingback chair and glances around the formal sitting room. Shifting only his eyes, he notes the homeowner's attempt at Southwestern decor. The Navajo-style area rug. The rustic paintings of horses in distressed wooden frames. The collection of mismatched pottery on the coffee table.
"I won't decide anything until I see both of them," Zachary states, while grimacing at the antlers layered around the room's chandelier. "What are you waiting for?"
A slight motion of Wanda Barrone's hand sends three of her thugs out of the room. She shares half of a smile with Zachary, unimpressed with his self-assurance and hint of bravado.
"We have been waiting for you, of course," Wanda seethes. "It is quite silly to pretend this is a negotiation. Perhaps doing so is amusing to you. Frankly, I am bored though. They will bring the men. However, there will be no further requests granted."
Seated on each side of Wanda Barrone are two men who Zachary faintly recognizes from the past. One is a retired fighting coordinator who amassed some level of wealth scheduling professional fights in the early years of the sport's rocket-fast surge in popularity. The other is also a septuagenarian. Zachary seems to recall the man had been at the deposition for the Cobra De Capello lawsuit. Based on the proximity of his seating close to Wanda's side, he guesses the man is Wanda's husband or partner. Scattered throughout the room are four more armed goons.
Nathaniel limps to the living room entrance, escorted by two guards. Aleksey is just behind him, off to one side. Both men are bound and arrive with closed eyes and taped mouths. Nathaniel's head droops toward his shoulder and his mouth is slightly parted. Aleksey hangs his head, repeating the same gesture he expressed when their photograph was taken outside for Zachary against the stucco wall. Zachary spends a few seconds studying each man.
"Take them away," Zachary orders. "Both of them."
The henchmen wait for Wanda's instructions. With a nod of her head, Nathaniel and Aleksey are led away.
"So now you are going to pretend that you are uninterested in helping these men?" Wanda asks.
"Neither are worth saving," Zachary replies, "at such a phenomenally high price."
"Yet here you are. Surrendering to us in this secluded home and too cocky for your own good. And signing the exclusivity fighting agreement, in conjunction with some other measures that ensure your participation, is all it takes for everyone to walk out of here with all of their body parts intact."
"I did come with the intention of helping them. But I just changed my mind."
"What a pity that you flirt with this dull ruse," Wanda frowns. "It is pathetic. You have no leverage and, to be exact, your voluntary cooperation is only an option, not a requirement."
"You relied on Nate too much," Zachary charges. "He led you astray. Oh yes, I am certain of his complicity. Best friend or not, it is what it is. If Nate had been honest with you, he would have relayed that I value freedom above all else. Over an employee. Over a duplicitous friend. Even over my career."
"You are guessing. This is a bluff. Do you see us falling for it?"
The retired fighting coordinator bends to her ear and whispers for several seconds. Wanda twists her gold bracelet and folds her hands together.
"Play difficult and don't underestimate our willingness to taste revenge," she says. "Your opportunity for voluntary cooperation is fading. Quite quickly, I must add. Financially, sure, of course there are reasons we want you on board voluntarily. But you are terribly naive if you lack the cognizance to imagine our euphoria and glee watching you suffer if you need more incentives."
"Thank you, Wanda," Zachary replies. "Your vile truth eases my conscience. I struggled with how, and whether, I should warn you. You just reminded me that you will always remain poison, so you deserve whatever Nate has in store for you today."
Wanda rolls her eyes and glances at the man closest to her. She shakes her head and he elicits no response. Wanda flicks her finger with a disgusted snap, motioning for her henchmen to close in on Zachary.
38
Burst
Disguised in matching sun visor caps, sports sunglasses, and powder blue t-shirts, Gustavo and Makena Keahi hold hands as they walk King Tut uphill along the rugged River Mountain Trail. It formed decades ago, looping between Boulder City and Henderson, Nevada, on former rail-beds, natural desert flood washes, and walking paths used by explorers. Its frequent steep inclines result in the full trail only being accessible by those who are especially fit. On this late afternoon, under a still bright blue and cloudless sky, there are a few others enjoying the trail and they work to blend among them by acting and looking like hikers.
They near a sharp bend, hundreds of feet downhill from the grand stucco home where Zachary is supposed to surrender to the captors of Aleksey and Nathaniel. Gustavo discretely hands his visor and sunglasses to Makena, then sets out alone, crawling low to the ground at a constant pace. Makena is careful not to watch him. Instead, she kneels on one knee and pours a small bowl of water for King Tut. Once he has consumed every drop, she rises to her feet and continues the journey upward, toward the trail parking lot adjacent to the Great Basin Highway.
The desert terrain offers Gustavo few natural barriers, but due to the swiftness of his inspired climb, he quickly reaches the cluster of palm trees and thick bushes encircling the house's retaining wall. He hides in the shadowed pocket of a hedge, amidst Japanese privet and golden bamboo shrubs. Gustavo can hear and glimpse the guards on the periphery. At least one is on a terrace overlooking Lake Mead and at least two are near the front of the house. Gustavo scurries in quick, short bursts, trying to remain camouflaged between the greenery and the retaining wall.
BACK IN THE ROOM, NATHANIEL bursts out of his imitation binds again, rips away the tape over his mouth, and tosses the broken pieces against the wall opposite from Aleksey. The guard in the lucha libre mask cracks the door open and gives Nathaniel a handgun with an attached silencer, which he tucks in his waistband under his shirt. The guard noiselessly closes the door, making only the slimmest ting sound when re-locking it.