Mafia Trilogy 03 - The Scythe (10 page)

 

He pulled the phone out and called information, asking for the Jacksonville Bureau of the FBI.

 

Once he was connected, he asked to speak to Carson Dodge.

 

It wasn’t so long ago that Darwin had saved Carson’s life in front of Gambino’s sprawling mansion in Florida, an exploit that involved a World War Two German tank and a gun armed with rubber bullets.

 

Carson Dodge owed Darwin.

 

Actually, you owe me your life.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said. “But Special Agent Dodge is unavailable at this time. Can I direct your call to someone else?”

 

“My name is Darwin Kostas. Locate Carson, whether he’s in the hospital or not, I don’t care. I will call back in ten minutes from this number. I have left the hospital in Toronto. The feds are looking for me. I will only talk to Carson. Only Carson can bring me in. Make it happen. You’ve got ten minutes.”

 

Darwin clicked off. He kept walking north toward the highway. He had no immediate plan and no idea what to do next. Without his passport, how would he ever get back into the States? Hitchhike? Stowaway on a ship crossing Lake Ontario into New York?

 

The phone rang in his hand. Local number. He ignored it.

 

At the next corner he checked the time on the phone. It had been at least eight minutes. The owner of the cell phone could easily call their service provider and have the phone shut down at any second. He couldn’t risk that so he called the FBI back a few minutes early.

 

The same woman answered.

 

“Darwin Kostas calling for Carson Dodge.”

 

“Please hold.”

 

There was a moment of silence. Darwin waited at a streetlight with a couple of teenagers. The light changed and he crossed amid the constant stares at his bruised cheeks.

 

“Carson here. Who’s calling?”

 

“Darwin.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Darwin’s dead. He died in an explosion in Toronto.”

 

“Wrong.”

 

“Even if he made it out of that building, he’d be scarred and all fucked up, skin grafted a thousand times. But that doesn’t matter because Darwin is dead. My own Bureau told me that and I was the lead on his case.”

 

“I’m scarred all right.”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“Prove it,” Carson said. “Make me believe I’m talking to Darwin.”

 

“I saved your life at Gambino’s.”

 

“Anybody involved in the case would know that. Don’t tell me facts. Tell me something only I would know.”

 

“You’re an asshole. I’m sure you know that.”

 

“If Darwin is alive, he’s a ghost come to haunt me. Prove you’re him or I hang up.”

 

“How?”

 

“Text me a picture of you.”

 

“To what number?”

 

Carson gave him a cell number.

 

“Hold on while I take the pic and send it.”

 

Darwin pulled the phone away and took a picture of himself, then hit the share button and, once in iMessage, typed in the phone number he’d memorized from Carson. After hitting send, he brought the phone back to his ear.

 

“Got it?”

 

“Hold on a sec.”

 

Darwin waited.

 

“Holy shit.” There was another pause. “What happened to you?”

 

“Too much.”

 

“Where are you? They said you died.” Almost to himself, he added, “Why would they lie to me?”

 

“I’m in Canada.”

 

“Can you be more specific? That’s the second largest country in the world.”

 

“First we talk.”

 

“About what?”

 

“How are you doing?” Darwin asked. “They told me you were in a hospital after getting shot.”

 

“Idiots who attacked us shot me in the eye I don’t use, adding to its ability to never be used.”

 

“You okay, though?”

 

“Yeah, got a bullet in the hand that’s missing a thumb, making that hand even less useful. It was like they wanted to
maim me lightly
by shooting me where I already had a deficiency.”

 

“Weird.”

 

“Yeah, weird.”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“Do you know anything about Rosina? Like where is she?”

 

“The last I heard, she was with Arkady—”

 

“I heard that, too. And Yuri Pavel is on his way to locate Arkady.”

 

“Yuri? You know about Yuri Pavel? How?”

 

“I just spent the last couple of days as his honored guest in his basement. A man he calls The Scythe kept me company, as evidenced by my face.”

 

“Holy shit. What the hell kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” He gulped. “Are you sure it was The Scythe?”

 

“That’s what they called him. Why?”

 

“The Scythe was rumored to be dead after a gun battle a few years back. Gut shot something awful. No one has seen him since.”

 

“Must be the same guy. He has food issues now. He’d be dead if his gun had held one more bullet.”

 

“How the hell did you get away from Pavel and Scythe? That’s impossible. When men met the Scythe, they only left in pieces.”

 

“It was food.”

 

“Food?”

 

“Yeah, Scy can’t handle food now—some kind of phobia after being gut shot. They found me covered in peaches, strawberry jam and pickles on a golf course near Barrie. That’s how I got away.”

 

“You call him Scy? You guys that close?”

 

“Look, Carson, I need to be picked up. Get someone you trust and have them pick me up. Bring me in. I need clothes and food. Then we’ll go get Rosina together wherever she is.”

 

“Where will you be?”

 

“I’m in Barrie, Ontario, just north of Toronto.”

 

“Okay. The best bet is to get to a helipad at the main hospital. I’ll have a chopper come pick you up.”

 

“Wow, you’ve got some clout.”

 

“Just be there. But I won’t be taking you to Florida.”

 

Someone shouted behind Darwin. He turned and saw the iPhone owner from the soup kitchen following him with two friends.

 

“Hey, you,” the girl shouted. “I want my phone back or I will call the police.”

 

They were far enough away that Darwin had time to finish the call.

 

“Why not Florida?”

 

“Because our sources confirmed yesterday morning that Arkady is hiding in Toronto and he has Rosina there.”

 

“Bullshit. Yuri had his own people on the streets trying to find Arkady. He told me a couple of days ago that he was heading to Florida to find Arkady himself.”

 

“Yuri never crossed the border. I’ve been following the case from down here. Yuri is in Toronto. Apparently there’s a huge sit-down happening in two days between Yuri, the Italians and the Triads. Arkady will be somewhere in the shadows and Rosina won’t be far behind.”

 

“Why would Rosina be there?”

 

The girl and her friends were getting closer. Darwin walked away from them.

 

“Only Yuri knows you’re alive and he’s keeping those cards close to his chest. The rest of them think Rosina is the last of the Kostas troubles and want her present as an offering of peace.”

 

“You mean a sacrifice.”

 

“The authorities in Canada have every intention of stopping that.”

 

“No, I have every intention of stopping that. Look, Carson, I gotta go.” Darwin ran as the girl and her friends were only twenty feet away now. “Pick me up at the helipad. When are you coming?”

 

“I was leaving the hospital today but I don’t know when I can get away. I’ll see what I can do from down here.”

 

“Have your guys take me in and brief me. Will that work?”

 

“Done.”

 

Darwin hung up and stopped running. He set the phone on the ground and backed away from it. He matched their steps one for one as they neared the phone.

 

At the next block, he turned and ran, disappearing down an alley. After ten minutes with no one chasing him, he came out and started toward the hospital.

 

Rosina in Toronto? A meeting of rival Mafia families?

 

All their troubles had started at a Mafia meeting with Darwin as the guest. The problem is he had been trying to stay alive since that day.

 

And now it had come full circle with his wife as their
guest
.

 

That meant the end was near.

 

It’s us or them and I have every intention of making it them.

 

It was survival of the fittest after all.

 

Chapter 10

It took an hour to make it back to the road that led to the hospital. Darwin took a break on a bus stop bench. This had been the most he’d walked in weeks, and he felt it.

 

The ultimate physiotherapy is running for your life.

 

It would take Carson more than an hour to arrange to have Darwin picked up in Barrie by helicopter, so he knew he had time to rest.

 

He looked up at the sky. Nothing, not even a dot in the distance.

 

What had his life, his existence, become? A common name among the Mafia? A man hunted by them for months? And for what? Because he accidentally hit a made man with his car way back when?

 

How unfair life could be?

 

He would never have hurt anybody before this. Except for the time when he killed his stepmother. But, he had rationalized that as justifiable homicide. She had it coming after too many years of torture at her hands. On the day she died, she chased him with a pitchfork into an abandoned barn and ended up on the end of the pitchfork herself. The crime was never attributed to Darwin in any way.

 

Maybe something like that was needed here.

 

Darwin and Rosina were in love and had been for a long time. They’d married in Rome and planned a honeymoon in Greece, where Darwin’s origins were.

 

But that never happened. Because the Mafia chased them to Italy and tried to kill them. They were always trying to kill them. No matter how many died, their thirst for blood was insatiable.

 

Maybe killing a few of them wasn’t working. Maybe he had to kill them all. No more staying on the run and letting them chase him. Maybe he had to go on the offense, chase them and have them fearing for their lives.

 

Maybe it was time to go after the Mafia and give them a war that only Darwin and Rosina would walk away from. A war unlike any they would understand. One that would give the Kostas freedom from the threat they’ve lived under for far too long.

 

Then an idea occurred to him. Something Carson said. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.

 

Offer a man two cards to play and each is a losing hand. When there’s no hope of ever coming out of this with his marriage together, his wife unharmed and his sanity intact, what did he have left to lose? Fuck the cards and the chips. Fall where they may. It was time to stop playing poker or chess or whatever the fuck his enemies were dishing out. It was time to play Darwin’s game of war and he had the ace of spades.

 

With a plan forming in his head, he got up from the bench and continued to the helipad at the Barrie hospital.

 

A four-door black Crown Victoria pulled up beside him. The back window lowered and a familiar face smiled at him.

 

“Get in,” Special Agent Kirk Williams said.

 

Darwin remembered him from the Toronto hospital. He was Carson Dodge’s replacement while Carson recuperated in a Florida hospital. At least that was what he was told.

 

The car pulled ahead of Darwin and then stopped abruptly. Williams jumped out, his jacket flaring open in the breeze. Darwin caught the hint of his weapon resting in its holster.

 

“Get in,” Williams said, gesturing at the open door.

 

“How did you know I was here?”

 

“You called Carson, no? You asked to be picked up. Now get in.”

 

“He said he was sending a helicopter.”

 

“We were in Toronto. We could get here faster than it would take you to walk to the hospital. This was the better option. Economically better as well. Now, get in.”

 

Darwin got into the backseat. Beside the driver sat another man in the front passenger seat. Darwin slid over to give enough room for Williams to get in. When he did, he caught the profile of the passenger. Agent Scott, the man who questioned Darwin in the hospital with Williams.

 

Williams slammed the door. The driver performed a U-turn and got on the highway heading south. Once on the highway, Williams opened a briefcase on the floor and pulled out a thick manila folder. He bent over again and pulled out a small bag from a fast-food restaurant and placed it beside Darwin.

 

“Here, eat. Then we can talk.”

 

Darwin opened the bag, grabbed the burger, unwrapped it and ate as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

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