Fatal Attraction Ch. 07

The road was desolate, owing to the late hour. Duke checked his watch. It was 2 AM and the moon was high in the sky. He walked silently towards the destination he had visited many times before. Only this time, it would not be for merriment or for drinks.

The red and blue neon sign at Crazy Mongers was still on, dazzling brightly on the otherwise deserted road. He crossed the road treading softly, easily walking across the junction that would be any pedestrian's nightmare during daytime.

And as he headed towards the unknown, he could not help but think back to the conversation that he had had with Christian just before they parted a couple of hours earlier; when they stood at the expressway intersection that would branch them off into different cities.

"So BadgerKing, I guess we part ways here."

Duke, a little peeved had haughtily answered back. "Yeah Chris, I guess we do."

Christian looked to his companion's face, trying to read his expression in the dark.

"No one calls me Chris you know. In fact I'm not too fond of it."

Duke pounced on that without missing a beat. "Then stop calling me BadgerKing!"

Duke's reply had been a forced one; almost spiteful. The two had stood silently for a minute before Christian patted his shoulder and headed off into the darkness.

Duke swallowed as the memory played itself through his head. He had not been so much annoyed at being called BadgerKing as he had at the overwhelming probability of the fact that they would never meet again. And now walking towards the bar that Christian had told him to head towards to find Zelderman, he wished he had never met Christian in the first place, and that though made his stomach churn. Then maybe he wouldn't have been in such a pathetic position now.

He sighed as he pushed the maze of thoughts out of his head and stood looking up at the glowing sign of the bar. It was beckoning him to come inside, like a spider enticing a fly to enter its lair.

He gulped and closed his eyes tight as he thought about meeting the beautiful and lethal Miss Zelderman. The last time he had met her, he could hardly wait to get out of her terrifying presence, being relieved beyond words to get out of her aura when he had finally acquired what he wanted form her. And now he was being forced to walk right back to her. He reopened his eyes and with newly mustered courage walked into the bar, swinging the door open.

The insides were sparsely lit. It took a few moments for his eyes to get accustomed to the dim lighting. And when they did, he could make out that the bar was now closed, or almost was.

The first thing Duke noticed as he glanced around was that the place was in a mess, or rather very different from when he usually visited it. There was the silhouette of an old-fashioned movie projector stationed on its tall tripod legs at the entrance and bags of pop corn and party hats and ribbons were strewn everywhere. The place apparently had had some sort of a theme party night. He had been dragged to Crazy Mongers on ample occasions earlier by an over eager Damien to know that the place was famous for its themed nights. A crazy thought went through his head as he thought about how he had missed out on the festivities which must have been taking place till about an hour or so ago.

He never stayed back so late at Crazy Mongers to actually know what time the bar would shut its doors to customers, but at the time there was not a single patron left in the bar. All save the massive frame of a very large and obese man who barely fit on a barstool with his head buried in his arms, peacefully snoring away at the counter, slumping his massive frame which threatened to tip over and crash to the floor at any instant.

And there was the bartender, Duke recognized him from his bald head and signature apron, polishing away glasses and bottles with a white kerchief; an activity he stopped as soon as his eyes fell on Duke. Something along the lines of "We're closed", was about to leave his mouth before he suddenly paused and fished out a cell phone.

Apparently Duke's arrival was being awaited.

And things happened quickly then. The rustle of curtains to the left of Duke signaled the entry of two large hulky men into the bar from a private area and Duke was caught hold of by both shoulders and forced to move in tandem with the two behemoths. A haze of stumbled movements, and growling titans shoved him past a colossal glass cuboid that was apparently a pop corn machine. The words '60's MOVIE NIGHT' splashed in golden glitter that glowed in the dim light confirmed that it had indeed been a theme night. And Duke sighed as he realized the senseless thoughts running through his head at such a time.

The two led him towards a wooden staircase that he had never noticed before, dragging the half-complying man along, forcing him to take two steps at a time as they hurried him to what Duke knew was the inevitable.

"You're in deep shit you know," One of the guards snarled in his ear.

Duke nodded his head acknowledging he knew as he wondered if the two escorting him were the same two men that had ushered him to meet Zelderman earlier.

"Why the fuck you alone?" the other whispered leaving Duke puzzled.

But he hardly got the time to process what was said. They led him to a mahogany door rich in carvings and paused as they turned him round and about, frisking his jacket and pants. Duke watched in dismay as his Colt and cartridges were confiscated by the men and at last when they felt satisfied at having rummaged through him properly, they flung open the massive door and pushed Duke inside.

Duke shrugged his shoulders to straighten his jacket as the door slammed behind him; the two hulks folding their arms across their chests as they stood on either side of the door.

Duke's eyes roamed across the room as he took in the sweet fragrance and the gaudy decoration of lilies and wooden carvings that adorned the room.

"So where's your friend, favi?"

Duke's body temperature dipped five degrees as he heard that unmistakable voice. He slowly turned towards the direction where it came from.

There was Zelderman, sitting on a tiger skin, draped over an auburn sofa, in a bright pink tight coat and white undershirt, her long legs crossed, jutting out of a short pink skirt. She had a cigarette in one hand and a flimsy flute in the other. The glass was filled with a fluorescent green fluid that glowed and bubbled eerily in the dark. Duke's eyes almost hurt as he took note of Zelderman and her dazzling clash of colors through the floral display of white lilies.

He gulped as he regained some composure. And suddenly he realized he had no idea why he was there. His mind seemed to be betraying him too for all he could think of was whether he had disturbed Zelderman at this late hour.

"What do you mean where's my friend?" He spat out surprising even himself. "You've taken him captive haven't you?"

Duke thought Zelderman raised an eyebrow at his paroxysm, but the obtruding flower arrangement and the distance between them made it difficult for him to actually tell.

"C'mere Favi." Zelderman gestured lifting a hand and flicking her index finger.

Duke stepped boldly towards her, walking firmly as his eyes once again took in the sight of her burnt face and the wrinkled skin veiled by curly blonde tresses that reached all the way to her breasts. She let out a puff of smoke in his direction as he moved to a spot directly in front of her.

"Your faggot friend is a guest of ours", Zelderman began in a strangely calm voice as she stared squarely into Duke's eyes who cold feel his courage melting away. "He's living here quite fabulously and will continue to do so until I get Scott in my claws."

"Sc.. Scott?" Duke stammered.

"Yes favi, Scott, Christian, Rumplestiltskin, whatever you want to call him, he's scarred my poor Randy baby and I am going to have to get even with him for that."

"Randy?"

Duke could hardly think straight as Zelderman's two differently colored eyes drew his attention in the midst of the folds of seared flesh on her face. One of the eye colors was a perfect match to the effervescent drink she held in her hand.

"Yes. I said Randy Rodriguez favi, not the tooth fairy!"

Things were hardly making sense to Duke anymore. What the hell did Randy Rodriguez have to do with all this?

"So Damien..."

"Your friend is just piggy bait favi!" Zelderman raise her voice cutting Duke off as she slammed the flimsy looking glass on a side table beside her. Miraculously the glass survived the assault.

"What I am want to dig my claws into, is that brat Scott who messed up my poor Randy." Zelderman clenched her teeth as she took Christian's name.

"Although, I feel I did find the new scar kinda mannish." Zelderman added the last bit as an afterthought.

The realization of what was going on finally hit Duke like a ton of bricks.

It was Christian she wanted; not him. Christian had conveniently dragged him into one more of his messes, and this time Damien had been tagged along. He cursed Christian in his mind, sidelining the fact that it was to save his own ass that Christian had trounced Randy for.

But where in the world was Christian right now?

~~~

A lone figure paced stony pavements in the darkness of the night. The voltages of the street lights had been turned low and they glowed ever so softly, casting pale shadows on concrete walls as the figure headed towards unknown destinations at an unearthly hour at night.

He clutched a black briefcase in one hand and walked keeping it at an even level. He was extremely conscious of its contents, hardly believing he had such a case with him. He stopped walking and lifted the case to an eye level, unlatching the levers that fastened it shut. A soft clicking ensured the case was open. He pulled up the lid ever so slightly to confirm its contents once more.

Christian drew in his breath sharply as green bills of obscene denominations peered back at him. He immediately clicked the case shut and looked around warily before resuming his brisk walking pace, his mind wandering to what had happened some time before, to a meeting that had taken place between him and Stevenson.

He had been over cautious while entering Stevenson's mansion, expecting anything to happen to him when he entered. Maybe he would be gunned down, maybe he would be restrained and taken in to meet the big man himself or maybe he would just be thrown out, but one thing he did know for sure was that no one around was going to be very friendly.

But his arrival had been portended, for he was immediately ushered in. And the next minute saw him standing inside Raphael Stevenson's massive mansion, waiting in the palatial entrance hall, awaiting Stevenson's descend from the grand staircase at the centre of the hall.

"And so the prodigal son returns."

Those words had signaled Stevenson's appearance on top of the imposing staircase, one hand stroking a large Labrador while the other slid over the banister as he descended.

Christian's eyebrows had knit themselves as creases appeared on his forehead. This was Raphael Stevenson, dressed ever so immaculately, in all his 72 year glory. Christian wanted nothing more than to see the man dead.

"And he comes alone", Stevenson had continued.

"Course he does", Christian plastered a sweet smile on his face as he replied, "For his companion has been gleefully abducted by some unscrupulous scheming old geezer."

Stevenson barely flinched at the name calling as he reached Christian's floor level, the large beast at his side growling as it stared at Christian, its hackles raised.

"Yes obviously, the scheming old geezer assumed that inviting your sweetheart would entice you here as well, given that you hardly want to visit me nowadays, but this old man had someone else in mind too."

Christian drew a blank at that, waiting for Stevenson to continue.

With a sharp turn Stevenson lurched at Christian, his face barely a centimeter from Christian's as he hissed into his face.

"I want that lad who broke into the FBI database. And I want him now!"

Christian's face registered a marked sign of confusion. "What?"

"The lad who worked with you in Salvia, I want him. And you know I'll go to any lengths to get what I want."

Christian fell silent. He had no idea where this was stemming from. He was still having difficulty grasping the situation.

Finally he spoke.

"So you kidnapped Vanessa to get BadgerKing? And I thought all along it was me you wanted."

Stevenson launched himself back, throwing himself out of Christian's face as he burst out into a deep baritone laughter, amplifying itself with every instant that passed; a laugh of contempt, of superiority and one that mocked the hilarity of Christian's words.

"You? Who in the world wants you?"

"But why...?"

"My dear, you're like dog poo when compared to the prodigy that lad is. I mean, there're dozens like you, petty thieves, but he; he's a true gem, a bona fide genius. And I want him working under me!"

Duke's mind reeled under the shock of the surprise. There were a lot of scenarios that had played around in his head as to why Stevenson had abducted Vanessa, but this was definitely not one of them.

"But will he work for you?" Christian asked, though he knew it was a lame attempt at distracting himself.

"Funny question coming from you", Stevenson chided. "Of course he will. After I'm done with him through my methods, the boy will do any thing I ask him for."

Stevenson's eyes took on an evil glint as he said the last bit and Christian shuddered as thoughts of those methods flooded his brain.

"Bu, but...?"

"Oh stop with the questioning already. I want that boy right now, and you're going to help me get him. If you value your own freedom that is, for you already owe me too much considering the job you failed at back there in Mali."

"The damn job was rigged!"

"Oh potato - patato, I don't give a damn, the fact remains that you failed and caused much loss. And your life is in my hands for that."

Christian had a pretty good idea who had rigged the job, but there was no point arguing here. He disliked whining anyway. And then a smile appeared across his face as he suddenly remembered Duke's predicament.

"But you can't have BadgerKing, you see he's in Zelderman's hands now."

A bewildered expression appeared on Stevenson's face as he heard that. "What's he doing in that bi-yatch's hands?"

"Oh she wanted a piece of him too." Christian replied smugly, "So I guess he's off limits now."

Stevenson fell silent as he though for a moment.

"Still, you're going to get him for me."

"What?"

"So you're going to get him for me." Stevenson repeated smiling slightly. That bitch is not going to hand him over directly, so you're gonna be the one to get him for me. After all, you can manipulate a teenie little nerd and pull some stunts on that bitch can't you?"

Christian's head was numb. What was Stevenson assuming he would do for him? He was certainly not going to push Duke into this cunning fox's mouth.

"And I'm going to offer you a little incentive to make sure you take this up."

Christian waited for Stevenson to continue and his mouth fell open when he heard Stevenson quote an obscene amount of money for doing the job.

The 72 year old man clapped his hands as an attendant rushed out of the room and returned hardly a minute later with a black briefcase. Christian's eyes grew wide when Stevenson flashed its green contents to his guest.

"This is just the beginning, you'll get the remaining after you've delivered him to me."

Christian looked down at the case Stevenson held in his hand, his mind unable to comprehend anything at the stupendous amount being offered to him.

"And you are free wherever you want after this, I'll personally cut off all ties with you."

Christian looked up to the smug expression on the elder man's face. His freedom from the jobs that bound him to this wicked man? Was it really possible?

"And keep in mind another reason you have for doing this."

Christian looked to the sinister expression the elder man harbored on his face. He was obviously referring to Vanessa.

And jumbling with all those overwhelming reasons in his head, Christian had extended his hands slowly to accept the briefcase.

And he now clutched that very same briefcase in his hand as he made his way towards a destination unknown. His own freedom had been sworn by Stevenson, a risible sum had been offered to him with a significant starting remuneration already delivered. Vanessa's life lay in his hands too.

And for obtaining all of it, he had to deliver BadgerKing into Stevenson's hands.

Things had happened to quickly in Stevenson's company. He had hardly thought over all of the aspects of Stevenson's requests and the rewards yet. The decision he had to come to next would probably be the most difficult one in his life. And his sharp tactical mind was failing to aid him in it.

With a heavy heart, Christian trudged towards finding a way into the next city at the ungodly hour, wondering what BadgerKing was facing by now.

And unknown to him, Stevenson had called to his assistant to round up the best of his men to accompany him to Salvia immediately after Christian had left his company. His assistant had been surprised, given the odd time of the night.

"I have some plans you see", he had told the doubting female as he rubbed his hands in glee. "The uproar Christian causes in Zelderman's lair will give me the opportunity to get rid of her once and for all."

The assistant stared waiting for an explanation.

"It's called killing two birds with one stone dear, or actually. Its three birds."

Fifteen minutes later, three black vans, stocked with sleep-disturbed but alert men in suits had set off into the darkness towards Salvia.

Stevenson was with them.

~~~

A helpless figure lay gagged and bound in one of the corner most rooms in the basement of Stevenson mansion. Strung out all alone for more than a dozen hours, Vanessa's body was beginning to cramp at several places. And as much as she wanted to fall asleep, she could not. A few muffled voices and thumping outside her locked door had informed her that something had just happened outside. And ever since the brief commotion, there had been no more noises from outside, as if she was left all alone in the basement. Even now, straining her ears, she could not make out the presence of a single soul beyond the door that held her captive.

She wondered whether the confusion had been caused by Christian coming over to the mansion. She was a little uncertain if he would come for her, but knew that if he did, he would not try any fancy stunts in Stevenson's heavily guarded mansion with all its Fort Knox qualities. But she knew something was up a few minutes earlier, and now all of it had faded away.

She was hungry by now, and her captors had not been kind enough to spare her a meal. She did not even know what the time was, but expected it to be way past midnight. And as her sleep deprived mind roamed aimlessly, her mind went back to how she and Christian had been trained together under Stevenson's cruel tutelage.

She remembered being thrust into Stevenson's grasp at an early age and leading a life of strict discipline, aimed at being an elite body guard for her cruel master. And then Christian had stepped onto the scene and her life had changed. She had almost fallen in love with him the very first moment she laid eyes on him, but circumstances and a better understanding of the man had later told her that it was not to be.

Stevenson had then unexpectedly deployed the two of them on tasks that involved more than being a mere body guard and pleased at their success had shoved more and more missions on the two of them. She was happy for she saw less and less of the wretched man and slowly and steadily she and her partner had worked towards loosening Stevenson's iron-like grip over them.