A Timeless Place Ch. 16

Peter lost himself in a crowed train station while still in his disguise. He walked right past two members of his organization, not being noticed by either of them. Still, he ducked into an adjacent pub, quickly finding a seat at a table where he could see the front door, yet was close to the back door if an immediate escape was required.

He wasn't ready to give himself up, just yet. There was still left the element of an unexpected visit with the leader of his organization that he wanted to accomplish before he turned himself in. If he could convince the man his presence was needed in America that would benefit everyone involved. He would have time to affect his release and complete the obligations of his visa, so he could naturalize as an American citizen. But, there was no way of knowing if all of this would come together, as he had planned, until he could talk to the man.

His eyes constantly watched the door waiting for his train to leave for his destination. It was time he had to think about his friends in Arizona. How he missed Bruce already and wished he was lying next to him. His thoughts wandered as he sat, guarding the door with trained eyes, watching every move anyone made in, or outside the pub.

Recalling the feel of Bruce's strong body made him shudder suddenly. It almost shocked him that he could allow that to happen to him. Anyone could have noticed it, but he could explain it away by saying there was a chill in the air. And there was.

Jonathan slipped into the limo dressed to the hilt. The sun was just fading in the west and he was headed out to the club to check on things, and be alone for a while. He really wanted to talk to David for a while; the man had always been a good listener and friend. And he didn't want to disturb Bruce, Greg or Tony who were all fast asleep after their little orgy, of sorts.

He told the driver where to take him, the poured himself a glass of wine from the small fridge, sat back and relaxed. The ride wouldn't take that long, but he just needed a little time, was all – time to reflect on so much, time to get his head together, time to do a lot of things, he thought to himself.

When the limo pulled up, he stepped out in his Armani suit and silk shirt, ready to do a little drinking and talk to David. He ambled up to the bouncer at the door, "Hello, Mr. Bowman, nice to see you tonight. Would you like your usual table, sir?"

"I'm not sure, Rick. I do want to talk to David, but we might sit at my table for a little while and watch the goings on," he answered as the man opened the door for him.

"I'll see that it's ready for you then, sir," the man returned watching Jonathan meander into the club.

The music throbbed all around him as he moved slowly through the throngs of people there. His continuous "excuse me" and "pardon me" didn't seem to make any difference at all, the individuals seeming not to really notice him, or realize who he was.

"Mr. Bowman!" he heard that familiar voice call out to him over the music.

The handsome topless waiter with a very well cut body was rushing toward him holding an empty tray over his head with one hand. Short blonde hair was spiked at the top made Jonathan smile as he approached hurriedly. Lovely hazel eyes seemed to contrast his deep rich tan that appeared to have been recently darkened a little. The dark beds of his nipples were pierced and barbells protruded from each side of them. The black pants he wore hugged his waist and hips tightly while his long lean legs motivated the man alone giving Jonathan a moment to ogle them lasciviously.

"What's your poison tonight, sir?" the man asked when he finally stood just inches away.

Jonathan leaned to him whispering into his ear long and only for him to hear. The man's lips curled up into a most excited and wicked grin. "Mr. Bowman, you know you ain't right, sir," the man answered playfully. "But, if that's what you want, I'd be happy to accommodate you," he added quickly.

Jonathan chuckled, leaned to him again, planting a lingering kiss to the man's cheek. "Keep your eyes out for me. I might call on you to fulfill that promise," he stated with a natural allure about him.

"Ooh, you give me shivers, Mr. Bowman. Did you want your table tonight, or are you here to see the management?"

"Both, babes. But, I'll go up and see David first, ok?"

"Good, I know he'll be happy to see you. What would you like me to bring you, your usual, sir?"

"Yes, please, and thank you," Jonathan started away, and the waiter rushed ahead, clearing the path for Jonathan to follow making it much easier for him to make it to the stairs that led up to the office overhead.

Jonathan climbed the steps and went in through the door overlooking the club. He spotted Dave on the phone at his desk, so he quietly ambled to one of the two chairs in the center of the room facing David. He crossed his thighs and lit up right away, listening to what sounded to Jonathan like an order being placed. But, for what, he didn't get to overhear as the manager said his good-byes to the person on the other end and hung up the phone.

"Jonathan, what a nice surprise," he stood approaching with a long gait offering Jon his hand to shake.

Jonathan took it firmly shaking it, "Good to see you too, Dave. What's been happenin'?"

David parked in the chair next to him leaning his crossed arms on the arm of the chair closest to Jonathan. "Not much," he expressed shortly. "Same ol', same ol'," he smiled at Jonathan broadly.

Nodding, Jon took a drag of his smoke thinking for a second. "Did you make those changes we talked about last time?" he asked the smoke curling around him as he spoke.

"Some, it's been a long process, but we're working on it."

"Good," Jonathan then realized David hadn't offered him a joint or anything. "You gotta joint to share with me?" he asked grinning wickedly. "Unlaced I hope, though," he added as David stood going to this desk.

"Jon, you're bout as fickle as they come, you know that, boy?"

Jonathan laughed. "Are you still selling it, Dave?" he then asked outright.

Dave stopped in midstream of pulling the drawer out. He glanced at Jonathan for a moment realizing he had just given his position away to his boss.

"Never mind the joint, Dave. I just wanted to see if you're still wheelin' and dealin'. And I told you to clean up the place. I will shut it down, man," his tone was firm at the last.

"Jonathan, you know this club was built on supply and demand. That's what your uncle knew from the beginning and that's how he made his money – "

"I'm not James Bowman, David!" Jonathan tried to be amiable, but the man was pissing him off. "If the fuckin' club can't make it on its own, then we'll just shut it down and move on, period," he barked then.

"Don't get all self-righteous with me, boy," David quipped. "I helped build this place, and I'll be damned if I let you or some cowboy from Georgia just rip it out from under me. And don't forget, I know more about you than they do, kid," he stood with his fists on his hips barking back at the owner dangerously.

"Fine, David," Jonathan stood then. "You're fired," he added as he stepped heavily to the door.

Fury surged within David so that he lost all his control. Picking up a heavy object off his desk, he rushed blindly toward Jonathan without so much as another thought. His swing appeared to be a hard one that grazed the back of Jon's head with a thud. Then he stood paralyzed as he heard the boy's moan and watched him crumble to the floor at his feet.

The ring of the phone, next to his bed, awakened Anton Mikhailovich. He reached for it sleepily sitting up to shake off the grogginess that lingered at 2 am in the morning. His ear was filled with static to begin with, and then was followed by a smooth courteous voice on the other end. He listened carefully to the proposition that came with a large sum of money that would set him for the rest of his life, if he decided to take the man up on the offer.

"You must give me some time to consider it," he answered the voice on the other end. Listening to his ultimatum, which was a generously sensible one, he nodded as he answered again, "I will have your answer by then."

He hung up the phone, and then swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Sitting there, he ran his fingers through his gray hair thinking long and seriously about what was only just offered to him. He thought he recalled that voice from somewhere, but wasn't sure of it. And it seemed somewhat garbled by the static in the background. But, the message came across clearly to him, without misunderstanding, whatsoever.

Standing, he motivated his mildly overweight body to his desk in the next room and booted up his laptop. Now that he was awake, he knew he wouldn't get back to sleep again. So, he thought to check on the progress of the organizations latest task of finding Peter Rossenovff.

At 9:30 the next morning, Bruce, Greg, and Tony were beside themselves wondering where Jonathan had gone off to, and why he hadn't let any of them know. They finally gained information from the chauffeur as to where Jonathan had been last seen, or taken.

Angry, Greg turned from the man in uniform to face Bruce, "what is going on with him, lately! He knows better, Bruce!"

"Yes, but we need to be asking him this, babe. Just calm down and let's find him first," the man slipped an arm of encouragement around the doctor's waist. He looked to the chauffeur with indignation, "next time he does something like this, you make sure we know about it, before you let him go traipsing off somewhere. And you're going to take us to the club so we can find out where Jonathan went after it closed last night," he was viciously polite to the employee making his point completely clear to the man.

"Yes, sir. I'll have the car ready for you," the man turned leaving Bruce, Greg and Tony standing there.

An hour later, the three men stepped out of the limo in front of the club that appeared to be empty. However, Tony knew that David would be there, working as usual, so he led them up the steps to the door, pulling it open easily. When he did, black smoke billowed through the doorway and an explosion was heard in which debris came hurling toward them. The blast sent them flying backwards, landing indiscriminately, where they lay for a moment, stunned from the sudden stop on the concrete walkway.

Tony was the first to begin to move slowly to get back up. He turned onto his side, gave a few jerks of his head to clear it a little, and then pushed himself up with his hands. Hearing Greg moan he crawled to him checking the doctor over for injuries, then to Bruce. Satisfied they weren't seriously injured; he glanced back at the door seeing the flames that licked over the top frame, just before he thought of Jonathan.

Scrambling to his feet, he staggered to the steps at first practically crawling his way up them Finally, he felt himself well enough to stand up and finish his way to the door, where he ducked going inside in search of Jonathan.

That is when he wished that Peter were still there to help him look around for the kid. They always made a good team, the two of them and would find him more quickly than without Peter there to help him. But, be that as it may, he was alone, and unarmed, of all things. Still, he knew where the secret panel was that he could find a proper weapon if he needed it.

Stepping behind the bar, he pushed hard on a particular panel that gave way. Pulling it out, he grabbed an automatic and some ammo that would suffice in most situations. Then he started up the stairs to the office taking two and three steps at a time as he went. Reaching the top, he kicked the door in, and then jumped to the side to avoid being burned if the fire decided to have a mind of its own.

After the flames were finished with their initial raging, he ducked in searching the office for anything peculiar. That is when he found the bloody paperweight lying on the floor, almost tripping over it as he started to the exit to the stage below. He knew if anyone was hiding in the club, or trying to get out unseen, they would go through the basement to the rear of the building, where David usually parked his vehicle most of the time.

Traversing the steps to the stage, he headed back behind it to the hidden entrance to the basement where he rushed down the steps into almost total darkness. The only light in the area was a small forty-watt bulb that was blinking sporadically. He found the cot that was once used by Jonathan to rest, or placate the needs of many of Jim's customers. It was in disarray and bloody at one end, which didn't give Tony a good feeling at all.

He picked up a trail of what appeared to be scuff-marks on the floor that hinted of someone being dragged or unconscious. Quickly, he rushed further into the basement following the trail and the traces of blood he found every so often. It soon led him to the back door that was left standing open giving him enough light to see where he was going. He heard a car crank up and hurried faster making it out through the door in time to see David pulling away and into the alley between the buildings. Tony raced after it aiming at the front tire as the car turned and started into the alley. Firing, he kept moving, keeping up with the vehicle until it finally began to speed out into the street disappearing from his view.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, aiming when he felt he had a clear shot at the car. His firing was meant to scare David, but didn't seem to be having that affect on the man. So, Tony finally went for broke not wanting to let the man get away with Jonathan and find out later that the kid died from some gawd awful injury that could have been helped by medical attention. And too, Tony loved the boy and just wasn't prepared to let go of him so easily.

Finally, the car veered to the right and crashed into a building. Not long after Tony jerked the driver's side door open and watched David slide from the seat to the pavement below. He checked the man for any signs of life, though he knew by the exit wound on the left front side of David's head that he was dead. When he knew that to be true, he glanced over the car, not finding the kid in the passenger seat, or the back. Reaching across the wheel, he snatched the keys out of the ignition and darted to the trunk that he opened hurriedly. Jonathan was curled up on his side, bound and gagged, his head matted with fresh and dried blood. Reaching for his cell phone Tony called 911 requesting help and an ambulance on the scene.