Chapter Twenty-One

Hawk

I must have dozed off over my computer after encrypting the software. As I start to wake up, I feel my desktop pressing against the side of my face. It’s a familiar sensation – I’ve fallen asleep at my workstation dozens of times over the years.

But the sharp, cold, unyielding object pressing against the back of my head is new.

For a split-second, I’m sure that it’s Waverly screwing with me. She walked in and saw me asleep, and now she’s playing some joke. I’ll open my eyes and see her faintly mocking expression as she jams a lipstick tube against my scalp and speaks in an old-timey gangster drawl: “Stick ‘em up, pal! This is a robbery, see? That’s what you get for dozing off when you shoulda been on lookout!” Then we’ll laugh and order food and make love, and...

...and I locked the door when I got in last night.

And she doesn’t have a key.

My eyelids twitch open, and I’m greeted by the face of Dante, his teeth gritted in a horrible scowl. I can’t see it, but I suddenly know exactly what’s being held against the back of my head. My heart turns to a block of ice in my chest, then drops down into my stomach with an ugly thud. My whole body starts shaking.

This is it. What you were afraid of. Why you encrypted the software as a safeguard. These next few moments will be your last ones alive. Will you feel the bullet enter your brain, shredding it? Or will it just be “bang” and lights out, like a TV being switched off?

I want to tell the devil on my shoulder to shut the fuck up, but the words catch in my throat on the crackling electric lines of fear that permeate it.

I don’t want to die now. I want to see Waverly again. I want to impregnate her with my geek seed. I want to raise a herd of tiny geek people that will go viral on YouTube like baby goats parkouring.

“Hello, you clever boy, you,” Dante sneers, his nasty mug mere inches from my face. I can almost feel his tepid breath against my skin.

“How did you get in?” It’s a dumb question, I know, and the answer doesn’t matter. But maybe I can stall. Maybe I can still think of a way out of this. Maybe this doesn’t have to be the end.

“I’ve faced much tougher locks and security systems than yours, Stryker.” He scoffs, and the barrel of the gun jabs my scalp even harder. “What a pathetic nickname to give yourself. Because hawks are natural predators, feared in the animal kingdom. And you’re not a hawk at all, are you? You’re just a dodo...wriggling around, scrawling your silly little lines of code in the dirt until a true bird of prey swoops down and devours you in a single bite without a second thought.”

“Is that what this is? You swooping down on me?” I know antagonizing him is the last thing I should be doing right now, but I can’t think of anything else to say, and I feel like I should say something. Words feel like magic spells right now, warding off the inevitable bullet a few seconds at a time.

Maybe I should just shut up and let him do it. At least it’ll be quicker that way, instead of spending my last moments on earth in absolute terror.

“Yes, you’re so smart, aren’t you?” Dante hisses through clenched teeth. “With your wisecracks and your encryption codes, all keeping me from my end goal. But those things won’t protect you from the power of a gun.”

“Just tell me what you want, okay?”

“What I want?” he repeats, almost incredulously. “This isn’t about what I ‘want’ to happen. This is about what will happen, as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow.”

“Very poetic. Were you named after Alighieri?”

The gun presses even harder until I’m sure it will puncture my skull like a needle going through an eggshell.

“First,” Dante says, ignoring my comment, “you’re going to decrypt the SkyEye program while I watch to make sure there’s no funny business. Then you’re going to give me a private tutorial on every aspect of the software, until I know it as well as you do.”

“That’s impossible. You won’t understand most of it.”

Dante gives me a blood-chilling smile that’s like the skeletal leer of the Grim Reaper. “I’ll take careful mental notes. Don’t worry, I’ll record the entire thing on my iPhone. I’ll take it to my own computer people, and they’ll figure out the rest. And when I do that, you’ll be safely tucked away in the trunk of my car. If my people look it over and decide that everything’s in order, then maybe I’ll let you and that Waverly girl just leave town and disappear forever. You can go to Siberia, Micronesia, or fucking Point Barrow, Alaska for all I care, as long as I never hear your name again. No more being big computer hotshots. No more fancy software and headlines. You disappear, or I make you disappear. And believe me, my way’s a hell of a lot more permanent.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He shoves the gun into my skin until it clicks against the bone of my skull. “And if I show the program to my people and they say you’ve tried to pull something clever on me – if it’s not easily accessible and exactly what I want, if it’s not finally mine – then I’ll have my men go collect Waverly, and I’ll make you watch each other get tortured to death over the course of a week. Then I’ll find everyone both of you ever cared about and do the same to them. If I can’t have what I want, I will burn your entire world down and then piss in the ashes. Do you understand what I’ve told you?”

A familiar voice floats from the doorway. “I don’t see how he couldn’t. Overall, I’d say you’ve made it pretty clear, melodrama notwithstanding.”

I roll my eyes over to the door as I exhale. Just like I called in the cavalry, Caldwell leans against the doorframe casually, examining his fingernails as though he’s making light conversation about the weather. Waverly stands behind him, her eyes as wide as hubcaps. I wish she didn’t have to see me like this. In fact, the last thing I want is for her to even be here at all. What if Dante loses it and shoots her?

Christ, Caldwell, what the hell are you thinking?

“What are you doing here?” Dante’s lips pull back into a frightened grimace, like an opossum that’s been cornered.

“Good question.” Caldwell gives his nails one last glance, then puts his hands in his pockets and looks at Dante with a calm expression that amazes me even as it scares the shit out of me. “I was here to give the new software a look and make sure everything’s in order before the big release. Had a couple of clarifying questions. But instead, it looks like I’m witnessing a crime. Well, a few crimes, actually...assault with a deadly weapon, extortion, attempted theft, attempted kidnapping, and that’s just off the top of my head.” He jerks his head in the direction of Waverly. “I ran into her outside, so I guess she’s a witness too. And then there’s this, of course.” Like a stage magician performing a conjuring trick, he produces an iPhone from his pocket with the recording app on.

“Looks like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, sport,” Caldwell concludes. “You should probably put the gun down now and step away from this dipshit before you make things worse for yourself. Believe me, he’s not worthy of killing anyway, or I would have done it back in high school when he put our underclassmen up for sale on Craigslist as indentured servants.”

I hear a low growl deep in Dante’s throat. He doesn’t move the gun. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you, whelp? You think you’re the king of this town, and I’m just some cheap replica.”

Caldwell cocks his head for a moment as though considering it, then nods. “I’d call that a fair assessment, yes.”

“But I’m still the one with the gun,” Dante snarls. “What could possibly stop me from just killing all of you right here and destroying the evidence on your phone? I have cleaners, you know. First rate. Just like on The Blacklist.”

My friend shrugs then peers over his shoulder. “Troy, I think that’s your cue.”

Troy Cass, Nixon’s head of security, appears in the hallway behind him. He cradles a black shotgun that looks like it’s roughly the size of a subway car. He brings it up, aiming it at Dante with a faint smile.

“Mine’s bigger,” Troy says simply. “But then, I think every woman you’ve ever been with already knew that. Even your mother.”

“If your finger even looks like it’s going to squeeze that trigger, Troy will fill your greasy, empty little head with buckshot. Then we’ll go to the authorities with what’s on my phone, so they’ll know it was self-defense.”

“My guys will come after you,” Dante says, his shoulders sagging about an inch. He knows he’s toast, but I can’t even celebrate until he gets out of my fucking house. I can already feel the pressure of his gun withdrawing from my head.

Caldwell raises his eyebrows. “Are you talking about Charles? A bigger pussy has never lived. That’s just a case of too many freaks and not enough circuses. They’re even dumber and more arrogant than you are. Or you could just admit that you’re beaten and live to fight another day. I’d make my choice fast, though. Troy’s got a trigger finger that’s itchier than poison sumac. It’s one of the things I like most about him.”

Troy nods and his mouth tugs upward even though he doesn’t smile.

There’s a long moment of tension...and then Dante withdraws, holstering his gun. I breathe a huge sigh of relief, like a drowning man gasping for air as his head clears the waves.

“You’ll get yours someday, whelp,” Dante whispers, his words as cold and brittle as chips of ice. “I swear on my mother, you will pay. And your fucking smart mouth isn’t doing you any favors.”

“Then you’re lucky that sarcasm is just one more service I offer. If your threats could do any actual damage, Giovanetti, then I’d have been dead a long time ago,” he replies with a grin. “Now go huff and puff and blow the house down someplace else. Your hair oil’s in danger of ruining Stryker’s carpet.”

Dante gives me one last withering look, then stomps out, slamming the front door behind him.

Waverly rushes forward, taking me in her arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

The relief that rushes through me surges like a cleansing tidal wave, washing all of my fear away. Dammit, the terror took control of my entire body, I thought I’d never get another chance to feel her hold me close or hear her voice.

“I am now.” I bury my face in her neck and kiss it over and over.

My friend clears his throat, clearly embarrassed by the display of affection. He turns away, addressing Troy. “Call a few of your guys and have them come out here. They can work out the shifts among themselves, but from now until the software’s released, neither Hawk nor Waverly will be unguarded, even for a moment. If one of them leaves, your team splits up and keeps eyes on both of them at all times. Tell them I’ll be paying them double for this.”

“Smart move,” Troy says, nodding. “Never thought I’d ever get to pull a really big gun on the douche canoe. I’d say this is one of my best workdays ever.”

Caldwell shakes his head. “No shit. We should have done this years ago. I can’t remember when I had so much fun. Yeah, I guess I can. It was last night in bed with Marcella.”

He winks as Troy busts a gut laughing.

Waverly’s eyes widen. “The first time? You mean this happened before?”

“Yeah,” I admit.

She spins, facing Caldwell. “And you knew and didn’t tell me?” Before he can answer, she swats him on the upper arm.

“Hey, take it easy.” He chuckles, rubbing the spot where she hit him. “I save your lives, and this is the thanks I get?” He turns to Troy. “You know what? Cancel the security team.”

Troy leaves, shaking his head. Clearly, he’s used to these kinds of jokes from Caldwell.

“So now what?” Waverly asks. “Are you going to take the recording to the cops?”

“I know that probably seems like the smart move here, but actually, it would be an extremely short-term solution. We’ve got him saying some incriminating stuff, sure – threats and so on – but his cotillion of sleazy lawyers will easily find a way for him to wriggle out of the charges. He’d be back on the street in hours, and then he’d really be peeved. No, I need to find a way to take this prick out of the headlines once and for all, and that means finding something bigger and more concrete to bring him down. That way, there’ll be no reprisals, and whoever takes his place will get the message that it’s not wise to screw with me, my business, or my people, period.”

“Too bad we can’t just give him a bed sleeping with the fishes,” Waverly says bitterly. I can’t say I don’t like her style.

Caldwell favors her with a dazzling smile. “Not my modus operandi, I’m afraid. Though Lord knows things would be far simpler if it were. Anyway, after seeing the sloppy way he handled this whole thing, it’s clear that we’re starting to rattle him. Soon, he’ll trip over himself, and we’ll nail him to the wall.”

“You sound pretty confident,” I observe.

“Don’t I always? Now, I suppose I’d better give the two of you some privacy. Oh, and don’t forget to decrypt the software before it’s released, huh? I’ve got some fascinating photos of my enemies saved on my computer to be utilized at the most opportune time, and I’d hate to lose them.” He winks devilishly, then leaves, whistling a jaunty tune.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Waverly grabs me again, pulling me close. Her words tumble out in a breathless rush. “I thought...oh my god, I saw the encryption, and I thought you were stealing the program from me, and I was so pissed off, and then I came over here and heard what Dante said, and I saw the gun, and I thought...I thought I was going to lose you.”

I look into her eyes, and as the words form on my tongue, I know I’ve never meant anything more in my life. “You’re never going to lose me. I love you, Waverly.”