A Cloak of Lies Ch. 09

"I'll pass," Olan said, glancing about the filthy room. "Christ, Brick. How the hell can you stand to live like this?"

"There's the door," the big man said from his seat at a rickety table.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, Niko looked around for the source of the low growl in the far corner. Sure enough, Brick's one and only companion, a mangy, three-legged wolf stood with its head hung low and its hackles up. The animal looked as crazed as the man that it lived with.

When Niko took a step, the animal lunged forward, snarling viciously in warning.

"Shut the fuck up, Rafe," Brick snapped, sufficiently quieting the wolf. "You boys have a seat and tell me what's on your mind."

Niko pulled out a chair, inspecting it closely before perching himself on it. Olan remained standing, his disgust barely concealed.

"I need your help, Brick," Niko began.

"Someone shoot me," Brick laughed. "The great Anthony Portello asking for help. Now I've seen it all."

"This is serious, Brick. I need your help. My wife..."

"Yourwife? You got a wife? Where is she? I'd like to meet the sorry bitch dumb enough to marry you."

"Watch your mouth," Niko growled, leaning forward.

"Didn't mean nothin' by it," Brick laughed again, holding up his hands. "Damn. She must be a hell of a woman."

"She'll be a dead woman unless I can get to her in time."

Brick's curiosity was piqued. Niko could see it in how the man's eyebrows shot up and the twist of his filthy face.

"What kinda trouble did she get into?"

"My trouble," Niko admitted, his eyes showing the sadness he felt. "I put her in danger and now... What do you know about tattoos?"

"Got plenty of 'em back in my Corps days. Needles and ink, not much else to it."

"The tattoo I'm interested in has a cluster of small white flowers – white oleander. Know anything about it?"

Brick frowned, leaning forward with his elbows on the rough table. He dropped his eyes for a moment, lost in thought. When he raised them again, his expression had taken a far-off appearance.

"There was a rumor going around some years ago. Talk was about this guy with no name, no past. He was collecting an army of sorts and has more money than the national treasury. People call him 'Oleander', but no one knows anything about him or if he even exists. One thing's for sure. If you try to find out, you get dead quick."

"And the tattoo?" Niko asked, leaning forward again.

"It's supposed to be some kind of symbol. If you see someone with that tat, you wanna get away quick. Saw one myself, back in the desert. Man come to me and asked if I wanted a job. Didn't like the look of him, so I stepped away."

"What did he look like?"

"Average, I guess," Brick said, standing to reach for the coffee pot. "Tall fellow with brown hair. Coldest set of green eyes I ever saw. He offered me a lot of money, but..."

"I thought mercenaries hired out to the highest bidder," Olan interjected. "Didn't know you could afford to be so choosy."

"What the fuck do you know about it?" the big man spat back. "One of the benefits of my line of work is that I can refuse a job if I don't like how it feels. And I didn't like the feel of that one."

"Why not?" Niko pressed, watching the man's face closely.

"Something about it was just wrong. He was offering a king's ransom just to join ranks. No mention of what I would be doing, just join up and be one of the crew. When I asked questions, he got all sullen. But that was a few years ago."

"Have you seen him since?"

"Nope. Ain't heard much about Oleander since then either. What's this got to do with the trouble your wife's in?"

"We go way back, Brick," Niko said carefully.

"Yeah. So?"

"So I'm about to let you in on a secret."

"Spook stuff?" Brick asked, taking his seat again. "Don't look so surprised. I know a government spook without looking. I can smell their shit."

"Yeah," Niko answered, wondering how the man could smell anything over his own stench. "My real name's Gregorios Nikodemos Pavli."

"The hell, you say. Now that's a handle."

"That's why people just called me Niko in my old life. Anyway, I sort of got drafted into this mess about eight years ago. The bastards took my life from me. I lost my wife, my home, everything, so that they could send me on a wild goose chase. Now this Oleander has my wife. He's going to use her to get to me."

"Sounds like a real problem, all right. I guess she should've known about the danger goin' in, though. Them's the breaks."

Niko felt a surge of white-hot rage. He wanted to wrap his hands around the man's throat. The old wolf, sensing Niko's mood, got to its feet again, growling out a warning.

"Shut up, Rafe," Brick snarled, tossing the animal a scrap from one of the dirty plates strewn about.

"She's a civilian," Olan said, taking a step forward. "She thought Niko was dead all these years. She's a good woman, Brick."

"Shit. Ain't no such thing as a good woman," Brick growled. "They're all bad, but if you're lucky, you get one that's bad in the right way. So what do you want from me?"

Niko stood, looking the mercenary in the eye as he said, "I want you to help me get her back."

Brick pulled himself to his feet, meeting Niko's gaze unwaveringly.

"No."

"I need your help on this, Brick. I need all the help I can get."

"Call the CIA. Call the State Department. Call anyone, just make it someone besides me. I'm retired, and I damn sure ain't gonna get myself killed for some piece of tail of yours."

Niko got hold of his anger, jammed it down deep inside to use later. Brick was a crazy, unpredictable merc, but he also had a certain code that he lived by, warped though it was. Niko knew just exactly which buttons to push.

"I was thinking something along those very lines when I found you in that hell, my friend," Niko said quietly. "I was on the job, had a mission to complete when I saw what they were doing to you. Remember how they had you strung up? I told myself to keep moving, to not jeopardize my mission.

"What they were doing to you was a crime, but none of my business. You knew what you were getting into when you entered that world. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that I should just keep going and ignore it all. But then you screamed. You screamed like a woman."

He stopped a moment, watching the way Brick's eyes clouded at the nightmarish memories. Niko had to hide his triumphant smile before he continued.

"They had you hanging there, strung up by your thumbs, beating you, burning you, cutting you. Remember how they laughed when you screamed?"

"I remember," Brick growled, his eyes glittering with suppressed rage.

"You were more dead than alive by the time I worked my way into their camp. They'd gotten bored with toying with you, left you hanging there to bleed to death. I nearly got myself killed, but I got you out."

"And now you come to collect the debt," Brick snarled, advancing a step. "You think I owe your ass. Well, no one asked you to help. That was your choice."

"Yeah, and if I hadn't, you'd still be hanging there with your bones bleaching in the sun."

"You're a bastard, Niko."

"I know. Heard it before," Niko said, grinning widely.

"From that wife of yours, no doubt. Say I do help you. What's in it for me?"

Niko picked up a cup, poured a small amount of coffee into it and swirled it around. He tossed the dirty liquid into the dark fireplace and poured more into the cup. Taking a swig of the cold, bitter drink, he took his seat once more.

"Just a thought here," Niko said, staring into his cup, "but it just may be this Oleander is the guy we've been looking for. He may be the one who's been financing all this chaos and ultimately, may be the reason you were captured. How does a little revenge sound for compensation?"

"You must be in a buttload of trouble if you're coming to me for help. Why don't you just ask old Uncle Sam to call out the troops?" asked Brick. When Niko didn't respond, the merc grinned knowingly, laughing as he continued, "You're on the run, huh? Got in dutch with the boys at the Pentagon, didn't you? Now you come to ol' Brick with your hat in your hand."

"If this Oleander's as rich as you say he is, a man could live a pretty comfortable life on what he could steal. If we find him, you can keep anything you can carry out."

Niko knew he had the man. Brick's eyes glittered with greed and retribution. All he needed now was to hear it from the big man's mouth. But Brick surprised him.

"They say he's a cold son-of-a-bitch," Brick said, returning to his seat. "They say the man ain't got no feelings at all. He doesn't get angry and he doesn't feel pain. He just goes forward like a robot. I heard he even cut off his own nuts so that he didn't have to deal with basic urges. If that's true, you're dealing with a real sociopath here."

"I didn't think you were scared of anything, Brick," Olan said. "I thought you were the stuff that other men feared."

"A man'd have to be a fool not to be afraid of that one," Brick growled. "Besides, no one knows where he is. How you gonna find him?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," said Niko, shoving his cup away.

"Me, huh? How the hell am I gonna find him?"

Niko smiled, hauling himself to his feet again.

"A man in your line is very resourceful," he said. "I'm sure you know exactly where to find the information we need."

"You mean a man who crawls around in filth, don't you? You calling me a dirtbag?"

Niko saw Olan biting his own tongue and understood his friend's predicament.

"Not at all," said Niko. "I'm just calling you resourceful is all."

Brick grunted, scratching his beard, staring off thoughtfully.

"I might know a guy," he said, looking at Niko again. "He owns a whorehouse in Nevada. Real scumbag. Uses his whorehouse as a front for a lot of illegal business. The man's got his hands in everything. Maybe he could shed some light."

"Let's get going, then," said Niko, heading for the door.

"Now? It's getting dark out there. We'll leave at first light."

"Afraid of the dark?" Olan scoffed. "A big guy like you? What will the other soldiers of fortune think?"

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up?" Brick snarled. "I can't just leave Rafe. He's got no one to look after him."

"He's a wolf, Brick," Niko returned. "Wild animals do for themselves."

"Shit," Brick hissed, casting the wolf a glance. "Keep an eye on the place, boy. I'll be back in a few days."

Brick opened a chest near the door, pulling out several items. Within minutes he had a lethal-looking blade and scabbard strapped to his hip, another in his boot, a holstered gun at the small of his back, a pack full of grenades over his shoulder and a Benelli M4 semi-automatic shotgun over his other shoulder. A vest loaded with ammunition completed the ensemble.

"That's the spirit," Niko said patronizingly as he stepped into the fresh air.

"Stay behind me," Brick muttered, walking through the door and leaving it open. "Step where I do and stay in a single file. Don't want you boys to get your balls blown off before we get to that tasty wife of yours, Portello. Or Pavli, I guess it is."

"Just get us out of this death trap," Olan demanded.

They followed Brick's winding path back to the road. Once inside their vehicle, Olan and Niko opened the windows, nearly gagging from the man's body odor in the close confines.

They'd driven for a couple of hours when Niko detoured through Grand Junction, finding a military surplus store and stopping.

"Stay here," he barked after putting the car in park. "I'll be right back."

Olan glanced at Brick on the back seat. Both men shrugged, waiting as told until Niko returned. He was quick, returning with a large bag that he set on the seat between him and Olan. He hit the highway again, looking for a likely spot to pull off. Following a sign that pointed the way to a scenic river drive, he found a spot with easy access to the water. Pulling the car over, he jammed the shifter into park and got out.

"What's up, man?" Brick yelled.

Ignoring him, Niko moved to the rear of the car, opening the trunk to remove something. When he finished, he slammed the lid down before walking back to the side of the car.

"Out," he ordered, yanking the back door open.

"What the fuck?"

"Out of my car," he repeated.

Brick got out slowly, his eyes never leaving Niko's face. It was clear that the man didn't trust Niko, but Niko didn't care.

"Get down to the water and wash that stink off," Niko growled, handing the man a toiletry kit. "I can't see to drive because my eyes are burning."

"That's mountain water," Brick growled. "I'll freeze my nuts off. No fucking way."

Just then, Olan got out on the passenger side, holding a handful of paper money over the roof of the car.

"I'll give you $500 if you go wash right now," he said, waving the money back and forth. "And it's worth every dime."

"Pansies," Brick muttered, snatching the money.

"And don't put those filthy rags back on either," Niko added.

"What the hell am I supposed to wear?"

Reaching into the car, Niko pulled out the package from the surplus store, tossing it at Brick.

"Try those on for size. They're just your style," Niko laughed.

With a smirk, Brick followed the beams of the headlights to the water's edge. He shucked his clothing, tossing it all in one pile and his weapons in another.

"Scrub yourself good," Olan yelled, "or you ride in the trunk."

"Fuck you."

The big man seemed to take forever. When he finally returned, he was grinning widely. His new clothes were clinging to his wet skin, his shotgun propped carelessly over his shoulder.

"You did all right, Pavli," he said, indicating his new clothes. "The shirt's a little big, but I'll manage. Smells funny though."

"Yeah," Olan laughed. "They're clean."

"Get in," Niko said as he yanked the driver's door open. "We wasted enough time."

"I feel like I'm on a date with you guys buying my new clothes and taking me to exotic locations," Brick said, folding himself into the back seat. "Just hope you two don't expect me to put out."

They drove through the night, cutting across the corner of Idaho, into Utah and finally, Nevada. Near dawn Niko pulled over, telling Brick to take the wheel to give himself a chance for some much-needed sleep. When he woke again, Brick was pulling the car to a stop in front of what looked to be a fenced compound.

Niko was alert instantly. Judging from the sign at the gate, they'd reached their destination, Johnny's Love Ranch.

"We're here, Pavli," Brick said, cutting the engine.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out. How well do you know this Johnny?"

"Good enough to make him shit his pants when he sees me. I better go in alone."

"Not on your life," said Olan, checking his handgun.

Niko was already exiting the vehicle, looking the area over carefully. It was still early in the day with few vehicles in the parking lot. That suited him just fine. The lack of customers meant few witnesses inside.

"Let me do the talkin' then," said Brick, his voice laced with frustration. "This guy can get a little jumpy."

"Define 'a little jumpy'," Olan returned.

Niko tuned them out, intent only on his purpose. The sooner they got this business over, the closer he would be to finding Camille. Brick left his shotgun behind, removing the knife from his hip and tossing it on the car seat with his gun. He approached the gate, stopping to push the button that would announce a customer entreating entrance.

There was a sharp buzzing noise, followed by the gate unlatching. They were escorted in by a large man who sized them up, clearly not liking what he saw. After ordering them to wait in a room with garish furnishings, the man hit a button on the wall.

A minute later, a line of scantily dressed women entered, each smiling and preening for their inspection. Brick stood, walking down the line, smirking at each woman in turn.

"These won't do," he barked over his shoulder at the host. "Where do you hide the pretty women?"

Some of the women bristled visibly while others were approaching Niko. A tall brunette ran a hand down his chest, licking her lips provocatively.

"You don't see anything you like, get out," the host barked as he took a step forward.

"You're not being too friendly," Brick sneered. "I think I wanna see the manager."

"I'm the manager, asshole," he replied. "Girls, get out."

"Who would put a pantywaist like you in charge?" Brick chuckled.

The man advanced, his fists doubled as he launched himself at Brick. There was a collective gasp from the women when Brick's hand closed around the man's throat, effectively stopping him cold.

"Where's Johnny?" Brick snarled.

Brick increased the pressure, slamming him backwards against the wall. The man's face began to turn blue, his eyes bulging.

"I'm not going to ask again," Brick whispered. "I'm just gonna snap your neck like a twig."

The man raised one hand, pointing a shaking finger at a closed door. Brick released him, ignoring his wheezing gasp when the large body crumpled at his feet. He turned, nodding his head at his companions.

They marched past the shocked prostitutes, through the door and down a hallway to another closed door. Brick put a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet as he bent his head to listen. From the sounds of the moans coming from inside, it was pretty obvious that someone was getting serviced.

Turning the doorknob slowly, he stuck his head inside. With a malicious grin he signaled the others to follow as he stepped quietly through.

A man sat at a desk, his head back on the chair, his eyes closed. In his lap was the busy head of a woman, bobbing up in down.

Brick grabbed a handful of her hair. Her head was yanked back, causing her to scream. He left her scrambling to cover her nudity on the floor of the dank little office when he suddenly released her.

The man in the chair jerked upright, cupping his hands over his exposed sex organ. His face was a study of fear and surprise. When his eyes lit on Brick's face, he looked as if he wanted to vomit.

"Hello, Johnny," Brick said with a smirk. "Sorry to interrupt your play time."

The man, Johnny, glanced at the other two men and back at Brick. He tried to recover his composure, stuffing his shriveling manhood back in his pants. When he stood to zip up, Brick pushed him back down in his chair.

The woman managed to get to her feet, wrapping a thin, short robe about herself. When she tried to slink out, Brick snagged her arm, pointing her toward a chair.

"Have a seat, darlin'. I'll get to you soon enough," he ordered.

She sank into a chair in the corner, her eyes never leaving the big man's face.

"Well, Marion Brickler," the man said, having finally recovered his voice. "To what do I owe this surprise? I thought you were dead."

Olan snorted, coughing lightly in an attempt to recover.

"Marion?" he whispered, catching a warning glance from Niko.

"It's been awhile," Brick said.

"I assume this isn't a social call," Johnny said, still trying to zip his pants. "You look different. Did you take a bath or something?"

"I want some information."

"How much you got to offer?"

Brick grabbed the front of the man's shirt, dragging him from the chair and holding his face just inches from his own. An expression of abject fear crossed Johnny's face. He looked like a rag doll in Brick's large grasp.

"I ain't payin' shit," Brick snarled, spraying the smaller man's face with spittle. "If you're lucky, I'll let you keep your cock and balls."

"You still sore over that business in California?" Johnny asked. "Come on, Marion. It's all water under the bridge."

"Fuck you, Johnny," Brick said, tossing him back in his chair.