The Hitman's Last Job(37)

He reached another stoplight and cursed himself for managing to hit every single red light along the road. But he took the moment to pull out the photo from his inside jacket pocket. It was of Miriam and her eyes were so bright that it looked as though the photo was alive. He kissed it for good luck and placed it back in his pocket.

“We’ll find him baby. We’ll make sure he’s ok,” and the light turned green.


~

Jorge and Jerry were holed up in the Evergreen Motel. The manager was confused at first as to how the two men knew each other. The last he’d seen of them Jerry was bundling the little Puerto Rican into his car. But as the two men entered reception and asked for a room the manager wasn’t dumb enough to question it. He handed over the keys with a smile and scratched nervously at his head as they left.

Now each of them lay on a single bed and stared blankly at the small TV at the bottom of the room.

“This place isn’t the four seasons now is it?” Jerry said out loud to himself as he nursed his broken hand.
“Yeah… so what?” Jorge pulled his knife out from inside his boot and began cleaning his teeth with it.
“Hey, you better have cleaned that thing since you took it out of old man Reiner,” Jerry laughed and his enormous belly jiggled up and down.


Meanwhile Jorge thought back to the old man and how he’d let him go. He felt conflicted at letting him live. He’d never cared about a victim before. Still didn’t, really. But something at the back of his mind told him he’d done the right thing.

“Hey, what you look so serious for?” Jerry asked with genuine concern. “Looks like your mind’s all churned up in there,”
“Ah just nothin’,” Jorge lied and resumed cleaning his teeth.


The news came on the TV but neither of them paid attention. They were too lost in their thoughts and too exhausted. Jerry’s phone rang and he pulled it out his pocket.

“Shit! It’s Don Angelo!”


Jorge’s eyes were wide like saucers. Jerry answered the phone and immediately started babbling.

“Boss…. Not a good time boss. We got him. We’ll bring him to ya soon. Just tidying up some of the messy stuff you know,” and he giggled nervously like a child.


Jorge rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the television. Images of a flood somewhere in the East flashed before him but he didn’t care. He was just hoping Jerry wouldn’t say anything stupid.

“Yeah OK Boss. See ya soon,” and Jerry threw his phone on the bed as if it wouldn’t be able to hurt him that way.
“So?” Jorge looked to him expectantly.
“So…. Angelo thinks we got him already. He asked for us to bring him his head…. Like right away,”
“Cool….. So ….. Well done there Jerry,”
“What the hell was I supposed to say?”
“I dunno,” Jorge picked up his pack of cigarettes. “You coulda not answered the phone. You ain’t his lap dog,”


They both went silent as they felt equally fearful and frustrated. Turning their eyes back to the television as if they were somehow connected to it, they tried to distract themselves from the impending shit storm.

Jerry prayed they’d find him somehow, that Carl would just appear out of thin air. Jorge on the other hand was more cunning. If his father wouldn’t lure him away what else would? He thought to his old Navy Seal buddies and immediately dismissed the thought of paying them a visit. They would be trained and impenetrable and also probably didn’t know where he was. Carl wouldn’t have burdened them with the trouble of housing him. He respected them too much for that.

But there must be something or someone else. Then an idea went off in his head like a firework.

“Jerry!” he said a little too loudly making the fat man jump. “You were friends weren’t you? You and Carl? He trusted you,”
“Yuh… Knew him for ages, thought of him as one of the boys you know,”
“So… He’d probably think that you would be on his side right?” Jorge grinned.
“What exactly are you getting at?” Jerry leaned in closer.


~

Carl was in panic mode when he returned to the empty bench. An old woman with a stick and a blue rinse sat nearby and he approached her.

“Excuse me ma’am. Have you seen a girl here? Red hair, real pretty?”
“You mean that little scoundrel! She went that way,” and she pointed a bony finger in the direction of the confectionary kiosk.
“Thanks!” and he raced to find her but what did she mean by a scoundrel?


As he made his way through the crowd he caught sight of a mass of red hair that blew in the wind.

“Anna!” he grabbed her from behind but as she turned to face him Carl was confronted by an angry woman.
“Hey! Who the hell are you?” she popped gum in his face but instantly softened when she saw what he looked like. “Oh hey…. You lookin’ for company?” she grinned widely and showed a fuchsia pink lipstick smudge on her cracked, front tooth.
“Sorry ma’am,” he pushed her away.


He ran the length of the bus station three times but still he couldn’t see her. His heart was beating hard and his mouth became dry. The city seemed to be swirling around his head as intense fear set in. But then from one of the entrances came a voice he had learned to love so much.