The Redcastle Redemption (The Athena Effect) Page 6

  “Send her in,” a deep baritone voice called out.

  Caledonia stepped inside an unremarkable office to find a middle-aged man sitting behind a cluttered desk. Don Miguel surveyed her with the automatic wariness born of experience. He’d spent years mercilessly fighting his way through the ranks to his current position of power; the struggle had turned his black hair gray and made him completely ruthless.

  Caledonia could see right away that Don Miguel was an exceptionally hard man. His furrowed brow and downturned lips made him look perpetually stern, and he exuded unquestioned power and authority, making the ordinary office chair he occupied seem more like a throne.

  He was flanked by two of the largest pit bulls Caledonia had ever seen, their thick necks encircled by collars studded with metal spikes. The dogs both sat up and growled, as mistrustful of strangers as their master was.

  Caledonia stood awkwardly, taking a moment to pacify the beasts before she stepped forward to place the bag upon his desk. Don Miguel nodded to her and looked down at his dogs with narrowed eyes. They were both suddenly relaxed, wagging their tails and smiling doggie smiles.

  “The boys like you,” he noted with surprise, his cruel mouth curving into a smile. His dogs were the only two creatures on earth whose judgment he trusted.

  “Wait outside,” Don Miguel nodded to the bouncer, gesturing for Caledonia to take the seat opposite his desk. The dogs both stretched, turning around in a tight circle before settling down with a yawn.

  He scrutinized her with shrewd eyes, noticing how young and innocent she looked. “You’re not one of his usual girls.”

  “I’m new,” she replied, leaning in closer to make eye contact, delivering a relaxing, soothing cloud of lavender. She worked hard to erase the strong gray suspicion he wore like armor, surprised to find it so difficult a task.

  His eyes fell on the huge scar on her arm, and something told him that this girl was not what she appeared to be. His colors strengthened, and he remained guarded. “He must trust you,” he observed, reaching out for the bag that sat between them.

  She nodded, redoubling her efforts to put him into a receptive frame of mind. “So…” she asked, “What are your dog’s names?” He paused for a moment, confused by his feelings, and finally pushed back from his desk to stand.

  “Excuse me,” he looked down on her with a fresh wave of suspicion. “I’ll take this for the count.” He nodded towards the young man who had opened the door and was now slouched in a chair off to the side. “Keep an eye on her mijo.”

  He grinned, replying, “gladly.”

  Don Miguel rolled his eyes at him. “Settle down Juan. She’s only one of Frankie’s whores.”

  He slipped away through the door behind him, leaving Caledonia sitting nervously, her hands folded in her lap. Don Miguel was not a man who was easily swayed, and this was going to be much more difficult than she imagined. The younger man picked up his chair to plunk it down in front of her, straddling it and leaning in close. He reached over to take a lock of her hair and rub it between his fingers, ignoring the way she flinched.

  “Now where did that little Guido find a girl like you?” he asked.

  “I–I came from up north,” she replied, blasting him with the same dose of lavender she’d just tried on Don Miguel. His eyes softened, and she was relieved to find him much easier to manipulate than the older man was. “So, is Don Miguel your father?”

  “Nope, he’s my uncle.”

  “You must really be important,” she said, her eyes wide with feigned admiration. She administered a heavy dose of rosy peach trust, topping it off with a pulse of electric blue pride.

  His already oversized ego swelled, making it easy for her to pump him for all of the information that Frankie had requested of her. Before his uncle returned Juan had divulged every detail of their plans to transfer the cash. He bragged about how clever they were to use a different restaurant delivery truck each time, proudly describing in detail how he was going to be in charge of moving the cash that very night.

  “I’ll be taking over this whole operation someday,” he boasted, reaching down to put his hand high up on her thigh.

  She struggled not to flinch, smiling. “So … what kind of truck is it going to be tonight?”

  He laughed, overly amused by himself. “A laundry truck. Get it … laundry?”

  She nodded. “I get it.”

  “There’s a boat waiting for me in Marina del Rey,” he said seductively, “How would you like to take a little midnight cruise to Mexico?”

  When Don Miguel came back to his office he was not at all surprised to find his womanizing nephew slobbering all over Caledonia. The girl looked relieved to see the old man return, taking the receipt he offered her and bolting up from her chair.

  Juan stood too, looking her body up and down boldly. “Why don’t you stay for a drink chica?”

  “I’d better be going.” She pulled the hem of her dress down nervously. “Frankie is waiting.”

  “Send him my regards,” Don Miguel said. “My man will see you out.”

  When she left the room Don Miguel turned to his nephew, his voice stern, “Remember what I told you about mixing business with pleasure, mijo.”

  ~

  Caledonia returned to the car, slipping inside to take her seat. She practically gagged on the thick sour anxiety and anticipation that had built up in her absence.

  “Drive,” Frankie ordered the man at the wheel. His head was on a swivel as he looked anxiously behind them to see if their car was being followed.

  “Well?” Frankie asked her. “Do you have some news for me?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “Do you have a first aid kit for me?”

  Frankie smiled, only slightly amused by her spunk. “You go first.”

  As soon as she told them what she’d learned he nodded to one of his men. His sheer evil and murderous intent glowed brightly as he placed an order with the men behind them, “Go ahead and pick him up. Bring him around right away.”

  “What if he puts up a fight?” one of them asked.

  “Kill him. Dead is fine with me.”

  “Who?” Caledonia asked, her voice rising with alarm. “Are you talking about Michael?”

  “This operation is no longer any of your business,” Frankie warned her, irritation in his voice. “You’ll shut up from now on if you know what’s good for you.”

  They arrived back at the cabin to find professor Reed had worked himself into a lather of worry. He knew that his life depended on Caledonia’s performance, and he was truly frightened. He’d never seen her particular brand of synesthesia in action, and he really had no idea what she was capable of. If only they’d taken Layla instead, he lamented, pacing back and forth in front of the massive stone fireplace.

  The men were all business when they entered into the room, blowing past him and buzzing with anticipatory excitement that even he could sense. Several of them started assembling an arsenal on the massive oak table in the dining room, pulling guns and ammunition out of the sideboard’s drawers.

  “How did it go?” Professor Reed asked, searching Frankie’s face for a clue. “Did she manage it?”

  A man behind him escorted Caledonia inside, and her face twisted into a scowl when she saw the professor waiting anxiously.

  “Put her away,” Frankie told the man that had a grip on her, gesturing towards the hallway that led to the dungeon. The man pulled out a set of keys out of his pocket.

  “Wait!” Caledonia cried, “What about the first aid kit? How about some food?”

  “How do I know that your information is any good?” Frankie sneered at her.

  “It is,” she said, her voice pleading. “I swear!”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “You promised!”

  The professor approached Frankie tentatively, “Maybe if you keep them healthy, they’ll be of more value to you.”

  Frankie scowled at the old man. “You stay the hell outta my
business! I haven’t gotten any value out of them yet.”

  Professor Reed blanched, shrinking back from a confrontation with Frankie. His eyes met Caledonia’s with something like guilt in them before he turned to slink away.

  Frankie gestured to the man who held her immobile, “Get her outta my sight.”

  Caledonia walked down the hall with a heavy heart. She could hear Frankie barking out orders to his men, his excited voice receding as she stumbled down the stairs leading back into the cold dungeon, still clad in a skimpy cocktail dress.

  She rushed over to Michael, who was huddled in the corner with his arms wrapped around his legs. His brow was sweaty, and his teeth were chattering. She knelt down to feel his forehead. “How are you doing?”

  He lifted his head to flash a wan smile at her. “I’ve been better.”

  “That little bastard,” she seethed, “I did what he wanted and he still wouldn’t give me a first aid kit.”

  “I told you they were going to kill us.”

  “He’s going to pay for this,” she said, getting up to pace away her mounting anger. “They all will.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Michael sighed, dropping his head to his knees.

  Caledonia calmed herself, looking down to see her cousin encased in a deep blue cloud of despair. He’s losing the will to live, she thought, kneeling down before him again.

  “Look at me,” she said.

  “No,” he refused to meet her eyes. “I’ve had enough of that. Just leave me alone. Please.”

  She exhaled, flopping down next to him. “I’m so sorry. Ever since I showed up in San Francisco I’ve brought you and Layla nothing but misery. You’d have been better off if you never even met me.”

  “No!” He shook his head more vigorously than she expected. “Don’t say that! Without you, we’d still be under Teddy’s thumb. We never would have known what it’s like to be free, and I never would have met Mina …” His colors went frighteningly dark with sorrow and regret.

  She settled down next to him on the grimy mattress, draping her arm around his shoulder, trying to think of something to say to pull him out of his tailspin of hopelessness.

  It finally occurred to her.

  “Tell me about Mina,” she said.

  ~

  Chapter Seven

  HEIST

  ~

  That night the professor woke to the sounds of a raucous celebration and the nauseating stench of cigar smoke. He slipped on his dressing gown and went down the stairs to find Frankie and his thugs celebrating. One of the men was pulling fat stacks of bills out of several large laundry bags, and the others were gathered around the table, counting. The doors beneath the sideboard were wide open, revealing a combination safe waiting to receive the loot.

  Frankie stood watching, a tumbler of scotch in his hand. He looked up with bleary eyes to see the professor wavering in the doorway. “Come and have a drink. We’re celebrating.”

  Unable to deny him, Professor Reed went to the bar and poured himself a finger of scotch, standing silently to watch the men laugh and joke as they lined up stack after stack of bills. It was an impressive sight–enough money to fund his scientific research for years.

  Frankie nudged him with an elbow, bleary eyed and jovial. “She came through. She actually did it. It looks like you were really onto something with these girls. We’re going to pick the other one up first thing tomorrow.”

  “So now you’ll see to it that my grant is fully funded?” Professor Reed asked.

  “Sure Doc. I’ll get right on that.”

  Frankie’s phone rang and he groped for it clumsily. When he answered his expression went serious, and he pulled out a chair, sitting down heavily. “Did they find the stiff we planted? Are you sure he doesn’t know anything?” he asked, listening for a moment. “Alright … alright … I’ll wrap up a few loose ends here. I want you to keep out of sight. Just pick up the redhead and bring her here first thing, alright?”

  He hung up the phone with a sigh, walking over to the table to address the counting men, “Boys, We have a problem. The courier in the truck? The one riding with the money? Guess who he was?”

  “Who Frankie?” one of them asked, a cigar clamped in his teeth.

  Frank dragged his hand over his face, making a fist and slamming it down on the table. “Sonofabitch! That was Don Miguel’s nephew. His Goddamned nephew! He was grooming the kid to take over and now he’s going batshit crazy.” He took a long slug of his drink. “Word on the street is that he’s calling everyone in for questioning.”

  They all stiffened with alarm, immediately getting defensive. “We didn’t know anything about no nephew! We just took them all out like you said!”

  “Relax,” he said, his face thoughtful. “We’ll see if he takes the bait and goes after the boys from South Central. I’m going to need you fellas to lay low here for a few days.”

  “Sure boss,” they all hastily agreed.

  “So far they don’t know anything, but that blonde down there can tie us to the whole thing. We can’t be caught with her. She has to disappear. Understand?”

  One of the men stood up, reeling a little. “Want me to do it now boss?”

  Frankie reached over to clap him on the shoulder. “Naw Joey, get some rest. It can wait until morning. Just make sure you dispose of her before I get up.”

  “Dispose?” professor Reed gasped.

  Frankie tilted his head to the side, rubbing his jaw matter-of-factly. “Don Miguel is not a stupid man. We planted the body of a gang-banger at the scene to point him in the wrong direction, but now that it’s personal, he’s not going to let it go so easy. If he ever gets a hold of her, he’ll beat it out of her and we’ll all be dead. I’m afraid that’s a chance I’m not willing to take.”

  “But she won’t talk!” Professor Reed was alarmed. “She can use her synesthesia to throw him off the trail!”

  “Naw … I don’t like the bitch. You said it yourself–She’s difficult.”

  “But … but … Frankie, she’s still valuable.”

  The little man turned to stare him down, contempt in his heavy lidded eyes. “That’s Frank to you Doc. I’m only Frankie to my friends.” The other men laughed while the professor squirmed.

  Professor Reed tried to reason with him again, hesitantly adding, “Surely, she’s much to useful an asset to–”

  “You didn’t really think we were going to let either one of them go … did you? Besides, I don’t need her anymore. I’ll have the other one first thing tomorrow.” He shook his head with disgust. “I sure hope you’re right about that redhead being easier to control. Redheaded women can be a real pain in the ass!”

  “But you don’t understand! Caledonia has a rare genetic mutation. She could hold the key to unlocking vast human potential. Her genome is–”

  “Shut up old man!” Frankie snapped. “Unless you wanna go along with her?”

  Professor Reed staggered back a few steps, tripping over a bag of money to land on his rear end, much to the amusement of the men counting out stacks of bills at the table. He struggled to get up, tightening the sash on his robe.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Professor Reed gathered his dignity and turned to trudge up the stairs to his room.

  He suddenly felt very, very, old.

  ~

  The first thing Layla did when she landed in LA was move about the airport aimlessly, watching carefully for the telltale colors of anyone who might be following her. She went to the gift shop and bought some toiletries, sunglasses, and a scarf. Instead of taking the airport shuttle to the nearby hotel, she rented a car and drove herself, parking it in an out of the way spot.

  She walked around the parking lot until she was again satisfied she was not being followed, finally making her way into the lobby. A serious looking woman manning the front desk looked up when Layla cleared her throat.

  “Good afternoon. Do you have a reservation?” the woman asked, setting aside some paperwork.


  “No,” Layla replied, winding up.

  “What can I do for you?” the woman asked, looking over the top of her reading glasses to meet the pretty redhead’s eyes.

  “I need two rooms, directly across the hall from one another,” Layla replied, drilling her with the brilliant orange of a sunset. “It’s very important.”

  The woman paused, struck with a sudden sense of urgency that bordered on panic. She started attacking her keyboard with alacrity, doggedly working to find a solution to Layla’s problem. She didn’t look up again until she had it, taking Layla’s credit card with a smile and asking cheerfully, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Yes,” Layla replied. “I’d like my name to be on only one of the rooms.”

  “What should the other name be?” the woman asked.

  Layla thought for a moment, giving her the only other name that had been screaming through her mind for hours. “Ramon,” she whispered.

  “Last name?” the clerk asked, typing away.

  “Um … Smith,” she replied, taking the keys. “And if someone comes looking for me I want you to direct them only to the room in my name. I expect you to be discreet about the second room.”

  “Certainly, miss. As you wish.”

  Layla took the elevator straight to her room, sitting at the desk and reaching in the drawer for a piece of hotel stationary and a pen. She chewed on the cap, finally settling down to write.

  I did what you asked. I didn’t involve the police, I came alone, and I am fully prepared to turn myself in. But first, you have to let Cali and Michael go. Bring them to this room and leave them here, and I’ll meet you in the lobby and go with you. I’ll be watching, and if I don’t see them you won’t see me.

  She bit her lip, and added more.

  I’m fully prepared to work for you. I think you’ll find that I’m much better at manipulating people than my cousin, and I know that I can be of great use to your organization. You don’t have to worry about anyone talking, because as long as Cali and Michael know I’m with you they won’t risk anything. You won’t regret this. I eagerly await your reply.