The view was absolutely breathtaking.  If she’d designed a perfect place and moment in time to enjoy Gavin’s company it would have been a very hard toss up between a Canadian Riverbank and this.  Both places had something about them that felt right to differing parts of her soul.  

Isabella smirked.  “Be honest.”  She said looking around and walking over to her chair.  “What was your very first thought when you saw me in this dress?  Actually, knowing what I do of you, maybe I should ask for your first and second thoughts.”
 

Gavin smirked.

“You’re sure you want to hear my thoughts? Well, okay. You asked.”

He paused for a moment, glancing up at the night sky.

“I suppose my first thought was that I wanted to spread you out on the poker table. My second thought was that I wanted to take you up to the room again. My third thought was that… well you get the idea.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t see why you can’t wear a killer dress like that and still boss people around.”

“You said that you think my dad and you have a lot in common - it’s quite astute of you really.  You do.  Your past and his aren’t too dissimilar either, from what I’ve been able to infer.”  She shook her head, no.

“Don’t think for one second that my father wouldn’t take one look at me in this dress and NOT know exactly what you’re thinking cause … yea, if Marie was wearing this, he’d be thinking the same thing.  And, if he saw you or any man looking at me in this dress…”  She drew a breath.

“Well, let’s just say housekeeping would need a very big tip.”  She sat down and picked up the wine menu.  “You forget that sometimes my life isn’t about what I want.  It’s about what my crew needs, about what my father expects, or what I have to do for any number of business, businessmen, associates in this thing of ours, and even my rivals.  Typically what I want is considerably far down the list of considerations.”
 

“I get that you have responsibilities, but life should be about what you want.”

“It is.”  She smiles.  “When I’m with you.”

Gavin frowned.

“Then you go back to Detroit and do what everyone else wants? I’m not saying you should rampage through Detroit. I just think you should be higher on the list.”

Isabella wondered when this discussion was going to happen.  It was unfortunate that this was going to be the place and time, but maybe it was best.  After all, elsewhere and who knew what would happen. Here she was fairly sure that no matter the spat, they’d probably still end up in the same bed tonight.  What were the odds they WOULDN’T be sleeping together tonight? It was a bet she was certain she could win.

“That you are so protective of my desires and happiness is one of the biggest things I value about us.  I easily could be like your sister, wrapped up in my work - forgetting about giving myself some due. And I enjoy it.  Christ, I feel like I can breathe again.”

“Probably because you didn’t wear the tighter dress.”

He smirked.

She laughed, “I don’t want to stop taking care of myself, rest assured Gavin, I’m going back a bit different, but I can’t just ignore my father.”

“Well, I’d never suggest that. Don’t think it’d be wise, first off. And second off, I like being alive.”

“And you’re very wise to think of such a thing because while my father clearly likes you - that certainly wasn’t something my letter did, YOU did that - he might hurt you if he thought you were threatening to my safety or happiness.”   

“But, you once asked me about my fixation with marriage… what do you think will happen the day I’m married to my father’s ability to regulate what I do or don’t do?  He’s traditional in his thinking… his family has, some very conservative Sicilian ideals about daughters and until I’m under ‘my husband’s roof’ as it were… my father is always going to be asserting himself over the aspects of my life pertaining to morality.  His ego won’t allow anything but absolute control.”

“So you’re saying if you get married.. you’ll be more free? Not how I’ve usually thought of it.”

“Not to send you running for the hills, but play through this in your mind a moment:  to him, I am protected and shielded from corruption - morally and otherwise until the day he gives me into the care of a husband.  Then it becomes his responsibility. Whatever rules are in my husband’s house… THOSE become my rules. Well, unless they cross his business interests, of course.  Anyway, say I marry a guy who is VERY much into my personal freedoms. Maybe a guy who likes these sorts of dresses. Guess what shit my father has no say in?” She shrugs.

Gavin raised a glass of wine in Bella’s direction and shot her a wry smile.

“Wear a dress like that every day and we can get married tomorrow. Twice.”

Isabella smiled.  “My father will want a big Sicilian wedding.  He’ll pay for the whole damn thing. We’ve already had this discussion because of Elias.  Needless to say he wants to turn it into a spectacle so he can use it to get into a room with every Godfather in the country.  There’s an old Sicilian tradition which makes it so no one will dodge the invite. The tradition states, in a nutshell, no father of the bride can refuse a request made of him on his daughter’s wedding day.  Period. So… everyone will accept the invite. It gives my father access to everyone. It’s a powerful tool. He won’t hesitate to use it and they won’t hesitate to use my father on my day.”

She sips her wine.  “And we… will reap the benefits of any gifts that come from said powerful people.  Cause no one comes to Don’s wedding empty handed, especially when her father is a Godfather.”  She smiles. “Well, by we, I mean… whoever marries me.”

Gavin sipped his wine, silent. Rarely, he was stuck with nothing to say. He was almost grateful when a man who’d been walking towards them suddenly sprinted and tackled him, knocking him off the veranda.

Isabella shot up out of her chair and screamed.

For a moment, he thought he’d go over the cliff- but he landed six feet below on part of the hill jutting out. And, fortunately, he landed on top of the assailant and not the other way around- his chest was hurting, but he wasn’t out of commission. After angrily pushing the attacker off the cliff,  Gavin leaped back up, gripping the railing in a place where it wasn’t shattered and pulling himself over to land next to Bella.

Gavin still didn’t have time to say anything, as he noticed four men heading towards them through the tables.

Isabella took hold of Gavin’s hand.  She was trembling, her eyes were a watery mess.  She was sure she’d just watched Gavin die while she was literally droning on about potential wedding plans.  It wasn’t a place she ever wanted to be in again, she couldn’t bear it.  Not seeing what Gavin saw she threw her arms around him and held tight, but he was nearly dragging her along with him as he moved out of sight of the main entrance to the veranda.

Off to the side of the main doors she watched as four suits ran to the edge of the veranda, then she moved with Gavin this time, all but running into the restaurant while the others were distracted.  She quickly tried to take in the details - her heart thundering in her ears.

Four men.  Five counting the one off the ledge.  Suits.  Not mobsters unless they were decidedly trying to blend into the a-list guests of the hotel.  That left one possible option: FBN.

Gavin dragged her past the restaurant guests and stopped just at the entrance to the Casino.  Isabella cast her eyes back, they weren’t being tailed… yet.

“Are you okay?”  She managed between gasps for breath.
 

“Uh… kind of? At least I landed on him. Don’t feel quite as good as I did last night when you landed on me…”

He laughed, immediately followed by a wince.

Isabella stepped around him and looked out into the Casino and noticed why he hadn’t kept running.  

“Oh my God…”  She said noting a small cadre of FBN suits at the front doors.  They wouldn’t be leaving that way without a small war and she was without a gun.  “This has to be about Garrett… but how?”

“My guess… a bunch of FBN boys looking for revenge. They might not even be crooked… just pissed. They shouldn’t be operating outside the country… just tell them that and they should go away, right?”

Isabella closed her eyes a second, she had to clear her thoughts of all the fear and adrenaline flooding her body.  Now was NOT the time to lose her shit.

“Please tell me you scouted the casino for exits with Neil… where the hell is he?!?”  She wondered if her bodyguard had already been picked up while cashing in chips for Gavin.  The poor guy would be scared out of his damn mind, if he didn’t get himself killed.

The crowd was panicking at this point, and Gavin and Bella tried to blend in as they headed toward the emergency exit. Still, it was hard to avoid attention in a bright red dress. For the first time all night, Gavin regretted that Bella had worn red. As two more men came in through the exit the couple had been heading toward, they abruptly changed direction, following the crowd again. 

Gavin looked over his shoulder at the six men steadily approaching them.

“I have a bad feeling about this…”

Still… they weren’t shooting- even though Gavin had seen at least a couple guns, forcing himself not to tense up at the sight of them. The attackers were holding back. At least that was something. 

Bella growled and grabbed hold of Gavin’s hand and pulled him with her into the only place a bunch of FBN Officers wouldn’t go - a woman’s restroom.  It wasn’t an escape route, but she needed two second to form a plan and this might help them begin looking somewhere less immediate.  It was all she had at the moment.  

Once inside she pushed him into a stall and locked the door, lowering her voice to a whisper, “Okay so… main exits are out.  They’re on emergency ones - they sure as fuck can’t be on every exit in the place that leaves windows and … service exits.  The kitchen is back towards the assholes in the restaurant though.  If we wait them out a few minutes maybe they’ll spread their numbers thinner and we’ll stand a shot of … of fighting our way out.”  

The thought of Gavin fighting anyone right now was the worst thing she could ever think of.  But she was running low on options.  She dropped down to her knees just then, her face poised suggestively, but instead of moving for some sort of romantic endeavor, she lifted his pant leg and relieved him of his knife.

“I may need this.  Say two minutes then we try to slip out and back to the kitchen?  They have to have a loading dock or something for bringing in supplies.”
 

Gavin frowned.

“In two minutes, I think this place’ll be empty. Let’s go now.”

Isabella grit her teeth.  She quickly lifted his shirt, without asking to see if the stitches held from the fall.

“I don’t we have time to- oh.”

He was bruised, but not bleeding.

She took her hand off his chest and brought it up to his face.  She stood on her toes and kissed him passionately. “If you die… I’m never forgiving you.  I mean it. Okay?”

“Right back at you. But we’re not going to die. I don’t think Tackle Dummy back there expected to go over the railing with me; the other ones have guns, but they’re not shooting. This isn’t a hit; it’s a kidnapping. Or an arrest. Well, not a legal one.”

She nodded and tried not to think about the look in his eyes on that floor in the stairwell or the moment he went over the ledge or Elias… and… Isabella growled again.  “I’ll never trust them to do a clean arrest, not after Elias. You gotta run if you get the chance. Swear it to me. I’ll do the same. Don’t let them get you.”

Gavin just winked as he grabbed her hand. They were running out of time. The crowd, due to the commotion, was emptying out. In an empty restaurant, they had no chance.

Shortly after they left the bathroom, they saw the semi-circle arranged to catch them. The men wore identical, professionally cold expressions that showed no emotion. Well, at least not until Neil plowed into the two of them on the right. Gavin and Bella both ran to take advantage of the opening, heading towards the kitchen. Gavin was worried about Neil, but he also knew that this is what the young man’s job was. As they reached the kitchen, Gavin dropped Bella’s hand and pointed toward the exit.

“They’re here for you. Go steal a car and draw away any backup. I’ll go get Neil.”

“Don’t be an idiot!  If they know I was in Garrett’s home they may know you were there too!  Neil wasn’t.  Come with me.  I won’t leave you.”  She grabbed his hand.  “Don’t ask me to leave someone behind again … we’ll fight our way out together or…”

Isabella didn’t want to go towards the ‘or’ in her mind.  The ‘or’ wasn’t an option.  The only thing that was going to happen here was she and Gavin would get in a car and speed away laughing to the airport where her plane was waiting.  She’d send lawyers to save Neil’s skin, provided they didn’t have another accident.  

She didn’t want to sacrifice Neil, but no one became a bodyguard for a Mafia Don and expected retirement.  Gavin, however, was in no condition to lead a rescue mission against impossible odds.  In a normal circumstance, maybe, but definitely not tonight and sure as hell not minutes after telling her that he’d marry her if she’d simply agree to wear skimpy clothing!
 

Gavin looked back anxiously toward where Neil was fighting- then he took Bella’s hand again and continued with her through the door.

“Okay then. Let’s go.”

He didn’t look back as they hit the exit. Outside, he saw more than a few cars… but they were all parked. An old Ford was pulling up at the valet, so they headed in that direction.

Isabella saw the car pulling up to the valet and broke into a run.  This was their shot.  “ON IT!”  She screamed, Gavin would watch her back, she’d get the car… they were feet away from escape.  She just had to not fuck this up.  She felt her heels breaking as she ran as hard as she’d ever run in her life.  The knife gripped tight in one hand as her arms pumped up and down, propelling her forward across the lot.  She didn’t look back to see if Gavin was following.  Right now, the priority had to be securing their escape route.

The driver got out of his car and offered his keys to the valet, Isabella knew this was her moment, turning her shoulder towards the man she impacted with the much larger person and knocked him off balance.  The keys, as expected, hit the pavement with a musical sound.  People were confused and Bella took full advantage, diving for the keys.
 

Gavin turned back to check on potential pursuit just as Bella reached the car- and he was greeted by a diving man who tripped them both up. Gavin tried to take the impact on his shoulder as he rolled, spinning back to face them in a fighting stance. Three of them- and based on how they were all standing and approaching him at once- well trained. Gavin feinted one way, then delivering a brutally fast elbow to the face of the man trying to get behind him. His speed and dexterity allowed him to dance away- and, for a moment, he felt like he was back in the ring with Will. He swerved, ducked, and bounced away from their punches, delivering his own as two more men burst outside. One attacker found his own moment used against him as his attack was dodged and he was thrown over the hood of a parked car. Another one was dropped with a shot to the eye socket that caused the wounded man to scream.

He’d just glanced back to take a running step toward Bella and her car when a punch landed hard in the square of Gavin’s chest. He gasped for breath, dropping to his knees, and as he looked up he saw his assailant slowly pull his fist back to deliver a crushing blow. Barely able to breath, Gavin reached for his gun, but the man’s fist slammed into his head before he could do anything, sending Gavin sprawled out backwards on the pavement.

Isabella jumped into the car, keys in hand, she put them into the ignition and turned over the car’s engine all before looking to see how close Gavin was to getting in.  What she saw in the rear view wasn’t at all what she’d hoped for.

“FUCK!”  She snarled.  She had a split second to decide.  If she ran, she’d get away.  Gavin was still here though, he’d be arrested at best… but most likely die in a fucking pool of his own blood with these asswipes running the show.  She slammed a hand on the steering wheel.  This was NOT how things were supposed to end.  And so, she wasn’t going to let that be the last word.

Isabella threw the car hard into reverse.  She didn’t give any warning as she hit the accelerator with enthusiasm.  “Alright shit head…”  She said as the car flew backward hurtling towards the guy who was walking away from Gavin, not yet aware that she was barreling down on him.

People screamed, breaks screeched, the meaty thud and the cracking of glass echoed across the parking lot as the agent who had broken Gavin had a very up close and personal meeting with her stolen vehicle.  Isabella was out of the car in a blink.  She hadn’t given thought to how she’d do it but she hoped to get Gavin into the car and to drive away.  The reality of the situation was much worse than it had been in her mind.

Gavin was bleeding through his shirt and the sight of it rattled Isabella.  He was breathing, but that was all she had time to notice as an Agent came at her, this time with a gun at the ready.

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP!”  

Isabella was not yet prepared to yield, stupidly she swung at the Agent who never expected a woman facing down a gun would actually attempt to hit him with a knife.  After all, who brings a knife to a gunfight?

A spray of blood, the agent fell away from her holding his face.  Isabella dropped to Gavin’s side.  His gun was there, she knew in her head she’d need it to get him out, but picking up the gun meant not putting all her focus into getting him off the ground and into the car and a moment of hesitation might change the outcome of the conflict.  She couldn’t take that chance.  Isabella left the gun, dropped the knife, and began picking up Gavin.

“Wake up… wake up…”  She urged him trying to lift the significantly larger man who was literally dead weight.  Isabella could feel his warm blood through his shirt and now her dress as she held his scars to her own the way she had so many times before.  With a monstrous roar and a strength she could not repeat if her life had depended upon it, she straightened her knees and stood with Gavin held tight to her.  The impossible began to seem possible - until the kitchen door opened.  

Isabella sobbed, “Gavin… Gavin please help…”

She pushed herself two steps, the car might as well have been a mile away.  The men coming out of the kitchen pulled guns.  There was no escape, especially when she heard the click of a gun chambering a round behind her.  She froze.  Her knees buckled, she went hard to the ground trying to prevent Gavin from becoming more injured.

“Isabella Luciano,” Agent Oliver’s voice, the man from the basement!  Isabella stole a quick kiss from Gavin as she felt her arms taken hold of so violently she thought they might be pulled from their sockets.  “It’s my pleasure to be the man who will bring you to justice.”  

“You promised.”  She whispered.  “I’ll hate you forever…”  She said as they dragged her away from Gavin’s still bleeding body.

“WAKE UP!  WAKE UP!”  She kept screaming, until she couldn’t see him anymore.
 

The sirens seemed to surprise all of them- criminal and agent alike. They were swarmed by local cops with serious expressions and guns. Bella could hear Oliver Billings arguing stridently with the local officers… but his men were bloodied, wounded, and operating illegally on foreign soil. Even after seeing their badges, the locals cops didn’t put their guns down. The FBN agents weren’t getting arrested, but it was also clear that they weren’t going to get their way. If there’d been less of a fight, then Bella, Gavin, and Neil might have been in the back of a van, heading to a private plane to take them back to the US.

Instead, Bella found herself cuffed by local police officers and led her to the back of a police vehicle. As she craned her head back, she saw more police standing over Gavin’s body. Were they calling for an ambulance? An unforgiving hand pushed her head down as she was placed into the back of the car.

*******

“WAKE UP! WAKE UP!”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open as he reached for his gun. Gone. Suit. Gone. Knife. Gone.

Bella. Gone.

He was in a hospital, handcuffed to the bed. His chest was sore and he lifted up the rudimentary hospital gown; his stitches had been repaired, and at least he wasn’t actively bleeding.

Checking the clock, he saw that it was 4 AM. He’d been knocked out for hours, either due to the beating he’d received or other medication. His eyes quickly surveyed the room. This was a hospital, not a jail. Shit, maybe they didn’t think he’d be conscious yet? He moved quickly, trying to find something sharp to cut the chains of the handcuffs and coming up empty. In his rage and frustration, he tried to snap the metal rod of the bed in half… and realized it was designed to detach from the bed for easy adjustments. Sliding the handcuffs off the other end, Gavin quickly hopped up, a trifle unsteady. A quick glance at the hallway showed him it was time to take a risk.

He moved quickly, keeping his handcuffed wrist out of sight as he shuffled down the hallway.

When he’d gone 20 or 30 feet, he heard shouting from the direction he’d come from and ducked down a side hall. After a labyrinthian journey, he found himself exiting the building to a dark alley.

The FBN was probably keeping a close watch on anyone he’d tried to call back in the US. For this one, he was on his own. Foreign country. Limited money. At least one jailbreak… he hoped. First, he’d find a way to remove the handcuffs and steal some normal clothes. In the morning, it was time to find a newspaper and figure out what the hell happened to Bella- and then find a way to get her out.

“I’m sorry,”  Isabella said simply.  “I really don’t know how to tell you this any other way.  I was scared.  I tried to get a car and flee the chaos.”

“She’s lying.  She’s been lying all morning.”  Agent Oliver said flatly.

“I’ll remind you that you are a guest in this room, Agent.”  Warned the middle-aged local police officer.  “Continue Ms. Luciano.”

“I backed up the car to get my companion and … I’m sorry I hit that poor man.”  She dabbed her eyes with a tissue she’d been given earlier.

“Oh, God…” Groaned Oliver.

“I just reacted when the gun came up in my face... I swear I’d never hurt anyone like that on purpose, I was just so scared that Gavin was dying!”

“Mr. Byrne?”  The police officer asked.

She nodded and sniffled.  

“You can’t believe her.  I’m telling you, I was in a basement with this woman, chained to a chair, she literally killed an entire house full of people.”

Isabella looked up at the Agent, “I’m so sorry, but you clearly have me mistaken with someone else.  I’ve never met you before in my life.”

A knock at the door interrupted Oliver’s latest tirade.  The officer stood up and looked to the Agent, “She’d better be unharmed when I come back or you’re on the next plane out of here.”  

Oliver sighed as the Jamaican cop walked out into the hallway.

She smiled at the Agent.  

“Bitch.”  He said flatly.

“Seems no good deed goes unrewarded these days.”

“You call yourself good?”  

Isabella shrugged.  “Do you?  I was going to let you live, though you might be smart enough to get on my payroll after what you did for Elias.  What part of I owe you, didn’t you understand?”

“You’re tainted goods lady & so is any offer that you’d make me.  The fact that you’re here with that guy - after all that Elias went through for you?”  

Isabella pressed her lips together tightly.  “Clearly, I made a mistake.”

“Yea, you did.  He was a good man.”

“He was.  Until you got ahold of him… and you killed him.  As sure as if you had put him in the ground.  I was a fool to think you were somehow less a part of that for having set him free.  You brought a snake into my den… one I can’t get rid of, and one that kills me to keep.”

Oliver smiled smugly.

“My mistake was that I should have killed you when I had the chance.  Trust that it’s a lesson I won’t ever forget… from here on out - nobody who ever crosses me walks away again.  Not ever.”

The door came open.  Isabella’s eyes kept on Oliver, silent promises to finish this, but her face was slowly changing back to that of the innocent victim who was complying with the good officers of the law.

The cop sighed as he came to the table.  “It seems your friend Mr. Byrne is in the wind.”  Oliver’s smug grin melted instantly replaced by a small spark of fear in his eyes.  “I’ve got to go fill out paperwork for that pile of horse shit now too.  So, this is the end of our first interview Ms. Luciano. Due to the aggressive actions of the agents coming after you, I think that we will not be charging you with anything done here on Jamaican soil, but it’s my understanding the Federal Government of the United States is asking for your extradition.  You’ll be seen in court regarding that soon, pursuant to the laws of your country - assuming all goes as the Agent here would like.”

The cop walked back over to the door.  “Someone will take you to your cell in a moment.  Agent… I’ll call you if I hear from your Ambassador.  Otherwise, keep that gun of yours in its holster going forward.  Any more shit and I’ll have you in a cell right beside Ms. Luciano, understood?”

The Agent stood up.  “Yes, Sir.  Don’t worry about me.  It’s these animals you need to worry about.”  

She heard the cop leave as the Agent began crossing the room.  Isabella spoke, unable to see Oliver’s face she could only imagine the terror slowly growing there as she gave voice to his blackest nightmare, “Gavin can’t get me out of a Federal Extradition… but you best believe he’ll realize you’re the only witness who even remotely poses a threat to my freedom.  He’ll be coming for you.  I’d learn to sleep with one eye open, Agent.  It’s going to be a very long week.”

If Garrett had broken him inside of a few days - the fear of a real monster hunting him would leave the Agent unable to sleep and pissing himself for days to come.  Isabella chuckled too herself, relieved to know Gavin was both alive and free.  There was literally nothing they could do to her now.  Nothing that would scare her in the least.  Let the Agent try his worst - so long as Gavin was okay, well … she was better than good.  She knew what she said was true.  Right now a hunter had Oliver in his sights… and when he least expected it, when his guard dropped even a little, it would all come to an end.

That thought gave Isabella great comfort as an hourly cop came in to move her, “Any chance I could make a phone call or two?”    

The man looked at her with an expression that suggested he knew he shouldn’t, but Isabella spoke his language fluently and every word began with dollar signs. 

She gave herself three days. She’d be running this joint inside three days, and with luck, Gavin would put a bullet into Oliver and they’d have nothing to prosecute on.  It was that simple.  A well-placed bullet and this would all be over.  Open and shut.  With a spring in her step, she walked towards her cell like it was a hotel room at the Ritz.  Unfortunately for her, it was anything but...
 

Isabella was dressed in a drab gray jumpsuit.  Gone the red dress of hours before.  She’d become acquainted with her cell, though it might have been generous to have called it that.  The hard packed earthen floor was laughable - she briefly considered a tunnel effort but the truth was, no one in this place was ever alone, not for a second.  

Not one roommate, but 14, and forget beds.  Lice infested blankets was the order of the day - for those who managed to secure those.  And toilets were simply holes dug in the ground… another reason to forget digging her way out.  Lord alone knew what she might accidentally tunnel into!  The stench made her want to wretch and lose what they loosely called breakfast here.  It might have been oatmeal once very very long ago… but she was sure it was more like warm snot now with no real consistency or definable taste.

Isabella knew she had to get some sort of edge and fast.  This place was the definition of rough, the nightmare every child was told that jail really was; it was a fact here.  Which, of course, meant the system was full of exploits if she could get her hands on suitable leverage.  However, until she did… her week might not be much better than Oliver’s.  

Isabella sat at a desk of one of the jailers, a phone pressed to her ear, waiting for the sounds of connections to be made.  She’d given away her diamonds when she came into custody - sure she’d never see them again. She’d have given just about anything to have had them for bartering with now.

Ringing.  She could have cried.  The sound was hope.  Very little bothered Isabella about the idea of jail… American jail.  This place wasn’t a jail - it was a pit from which only the strongest survived.  Of course she was strong, but people were settled into their roles and had advantages that would take time to establish.  Cash would make all of that easier.  So, it was her first priority.

“Hello?”  Came the female voice on the other end of the line.  It wasn’t Jewel.  That was the first thing that struck her.  Why wasn’t Jewel answering her phone?  If not Jewel, why not Stephen?  

“Hello?”  Isabella repeated back to the woman.

“Oh my God, Isabella!”  It took her a moment over the lousy connection to realize it was Lushie.  “How’s Jamaica?”

“Absolutely delightful.”  She said in her most sarcastic tone.  “Lushie, I need to talk to Jewel.”

“Um… afraid I can’t do that Boss.”

“Okay, Stephen then.”  There was a silence that caused her to ask, “Lushie, are you there?”

“Yea, I’m here.  Um… well, I’m afraid Jewel is with the FBN this morning.  We don’t know if she’ll be back soon or not.”

Isabella’s blood ran cold.  Jewel hadn’t been at Garrett’s house, so why had they picked her up?  Was this coincidence?  Could they both have been picked up for seperate reasons in the same night?  What were the odds?  Slim she imagined.

“Stephen’s missing.”  Lushie continuep after a moment of silence.  

Missing.  Picked up then?  Dead?  

Her mind went through a dozen different situations that might be possible before ever daring to come to the most heinous of them all.  Her mind flashed back to the office, her and Stephen alone as she detailed out how she got her broken arm.  How it was she avenged Elias.  Isabella winced as she thought about Enzo and who had recruited him and how her gut had told her even back then that this was evidence of a problem inside the highest levels of her own organization.  

“Boss?”  Lushie asked.

“I’m here… in jail.”  She said.  

“What the…” Isabella could hear things riffling on the desk and imagined Lushie searching for a pencil and paper.

“I need some things.”  She said, wanting to say so much more but not wanting to take the chance anything would come back to bite her in the ass at trial.

“Go ahead, Boss.  I got it handled.”

“First, you’re in charge of our businesses until Jewel or myself is back.  Handle shit, Lushie.  I need you to step up to lead and the first part of that is going to my Father & Draven about all before they find out from someone else.”

She heard scribbling.

“Secondly, I need you to call my lawyers and get them on a private flight to Jamaica.  The numbers should be in the top right of my desk.  Tell them the FBN is trying to get me brought back to the USA for trial, but their boys botched the red tape with the government and tried to take us without it.”

Lushie laughed, “That should mean you’re back with us soon then?”

“If I was in the USA, sure.  But the Jamaican police are keeping me as their guest until they sort matters out.  Let’s just say things are … rough here.”

“Are you safe?”  Lushie’s voice went from amused to concerned in a heartbeat.

“Send a generous care package with the lawyers.  30 - 44 - 10 is the combination to the wall safe behind my and Elias’ photo.  Take what you need from there to keep us afloat.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry Izzy… you can count on me.”

“I hope so.  I don’t think I”ll be sleeping until those lawyers and my care package arrives and I’m not exaggerating in the slightest.  Don’t dick around, Lushie.”

“No.  I’m on it.  “Anything else we can do for you, Boss?”

Isabella hesitated.  She thought about calling Will personally, but that would put heat on him and his fledgling operation. No, if they didn’t know about William, then that meant their intel was coming more from Oliver than from Stephen.  Oliver hadn’t seen William.  He didn’t know there was a third man in the operation.

“Call my business partner in Philly.  Let him know that no matter what he reads in the papers, I’ll be back before he can shake a stick and he needs to keep the doors open and money coming in.  I’ll need it.”

“Can do.”  She said scratching notes again.  “Speaking of business partners… is anyone with you?”

It was a casual way to ask about Gavin or her bodyguards, she wasn’t sure how much Lushie knew about her trip.  Some of the crew knew about her and Gavin… but not everyone.  “No.  It’s just me so far as I know.  I understand my associate Neil is in the hospital after being roughed by the FBN.  You might see that his needs are being met too.”

“On it.”  She said.  “Glad to hear no one else is tied up in this.”

She does know about Gavin.

“Give a call to the business manager of the Race Street Pier operation,”  She dared not mention Tara by name, but there was really only one person that could refer to.  The woman lived for that place when she wasn’t worried about her brother.  

“Let her know that I’m alone in this mess, but she may have interests”  Gavin.  She didn’t need to spell it out to Lushie. “... here that could use a little help. If their arms extend to Jamaica, she might flex. It could help out her interests a bit.”

“Flex in Jamaica, I’ll let her know.”

The more she dwelled on it, the more certain she became about Stephen.  “You know what… put Tenkai on a plane too.”

“Tenkai?”  Lushie’s voice sounded surprised.

“I miss him and a visit from my dear friend would do me good.”  Of all the crew she knew she could trust this to his capable hands.

“Whatever you want.  I’ll send him within the hour.  Take care of yourself, Isabella.”

“I’ll talk with you again soon, I hope.  I know you won’t let me down… Consigliere.”  With that, she hung up the phone.
 

“Two cigarettes.”  the sweaty bird-faced woman said, standing over the hole in the ground that passed as the cell’s toilet.  “Or you can find another hole.”

“I told you,”  The fat British woman said, “I got half a banana and some of the sugar left from lunch but I ain’t got no fucking fags.”

“You’re lying.”  Bird-face stepped right up against British, and though the fat woman towered above her, Bird-face showed no fear.  “They in your bra.”  She said mocking the other woman’s accent.

The cell erupted into a cacophony of laughter.

“Tucked between your big ol’ cows tits.”  Bird-face snarled, pushing the other woman back with her own chest.  The room was getting rowdy, the ladies had been spoiling for a fight since the 10am walk-about when some woman with dreadlocks had them pulled out by another woman who was now in solitary - or so Isabella hoped.  She’d seen hair pulling before in fights between women, but this instance had been utterly gruesome.  She would never forget the sound of the woman’s flesh giving way, nor her screams before passing out from the pain.

Isabella looked at the woman beside her, a tall slender lady with patchy skin that wasn’t quite caucasian and wasn’t fully colored either.  She was pretty, exotic looking, dangerously so for a place like this,  “The Brit wins this.”  She said quietly.

“No fuckin’ way… Alvita gut her.” 

“How you figure?”  Isabella asked.

“You’ll see.”  The tall woman smirked.

“You sound pretty confident.”

“Alvita wins every fight she gets into.”  Patches said quietly.  “She don’t lose.”

“She’ll lose this time.”  Isabella said a touch more confidently, looking the bully up and down slowly - determining where the weapon was hidden.  There were only a few places one could hide a shiv here.  None of them were pretty, but Alvita had cultivated a few.  Her hair was thick enough and she doubted anyone checked there often.  She suspected strip searches were frequent considering the kind of guards on duty here… but her hair was probably pretty safe.  

Patches wasn’t really her name, but it was what Isabella had been coming to think of her as.  Patches looked to Isabella & asked,  “You wanna bet on it?”

Isabella sighed as if she was annoyed, but betting had been her plan from first engaging the woman in conversation.  Learning that Alvita never lost a fight before and had a shiv was just a bonus.

“I don’t got nothing you’d want right now.  It’ll be a few hours, but I have things on the way.”

Patches scoffed in disbelief, clearly, she’d heard such promises before.

“If I don’t, you can take it out of my hide… assuming I lose.  Which,” Isabella smirked.  “I won’t.”

“You’re one cocky, stupid, twat.”  Patches snickered.  “Alright fine.  We bet a pack of cigarettes then.”

Isabella shook her head, “I don’t smoke.  Could care less about cigarettes… but if you want them, I’ll get you a whole damn carton when my people arrive - provided Alvita wins.”

Patches whistled at the steep ante, “What the hell do I have to put up against a whole carton?”

“If Alvita loses this fight, you sleep by me, every night I’m here.”

Patches hesitated.  Isabella watched the wheels spinning in her head.  The woman said in a low tone, “Won’t save you from them.  Come dark they’ll come into the cells and you won’t be back until dawn… pretty thing like you … if you’re lucky.”  

“Who says I’m making you sleep by me for MY protection?”  It was an old mafia trick, but one that worked well.  She needed Soldato in this place, Patches would be her right hand… Alvita would be her enforcer.  

“You want me to believe that if you win - that you’re using your winnings to protect me?  I don’t buy it.  What’s in it for you?”

“That’s the wrong question.  Besides, would you have slept by me any other way?”

Patches shook her head.  

“I take care of people.  Back home, people learned very quickly that it pays to be my friend, so you had better hope I’m right and Alvita loses.  It’s certainly in your best interest if she does.”

“How are YOU going to protect me?”

“Now that’s the right question to be asking.  Let’s start with this.  Pay attention, Patches, class is in session.”  She nodded towards the combatants as the first fists flew.
The brit wasn’t without her talents.  Isabella admired how fast someone that the big woman could actually move when properly motivated, and her sausage-thick fingers made for a hammer-like-fist that if she trained with could be something truly frightening one day.

Alvita circled her prey as the crowd in the cell made a makeshift ring for the fight.  Her eyes were like tiny daggers boring into British.  Her skin glistened in the humidity, sweat rolled down her cheek and past the dark circle around the back of her neck.  Isabella’s eyes narrowed as she watched the Alvita’s footwork.  The bully was moving far slower than she could have gone for sure seeming to support Isabella’s initial assessment of the situation.  The question was, could British hold out long enough.  

As Alvita knocked the heavy woman to the ground and began pounding on her face, Isabella had her doubts. A massive gout of blood exploded from British’s nose as Alvita pummeled her relentlessly.

“It’s over.”  Patches said.

“No…”  and Tyler Durden’s words rang in her ears as she gave them life again, “Fights go on as long as they have to.  Best believe, ain’t nothing over until it’s over - GET UP!  MOVE BRITISH! MOVE!”

“KILL HER!”  Patches screamed at Alvita.

Isabella dropped down next to the two fighting, “GET UP!”  She roared in the woman’s face as the smaller woman continued her assault.  The heavyset woman's eyes looked to Isabella, this is what she lived for - moments like this.  She had her… this fight was going to turn, NOW.  “DO YOU LIKE GETTING HIT - I SAID MOVE!”

Alvita flew through the air like a rag doll and hit the ground hard to the gasps of many in the cell.  A few cheers began shifting to favor British while others urged Alvita to get up.  

“Tha… thank…”  British began, but Isabella wasn’t done, the fight wasn’t over for sure.

“Stay out of her reach.  Just keep moving, she’s more tired than you are… believe me.”  

British was crying unabashedly.  This room was going to eat her alive.  “I can’t…”  She sobbed.

“You got no choice - MOVE!”  Alvita was charging back like a bull, Isabella threw herself out of the way of the banshee hurtling at British.

British was on her feet and moving again.  Alvita reached up to her hair and pulled the shiv, as expected.  She was weaving back and forth, though Isabella was sure no one but she and the woman experiencing it noticed.  Most probably thought it was part of her fighting style - but Isabella knew better. 

“Come on…”  She urged as the heavy set woman ran from one end of the cell back to the other and then again.  The laughter at this point was beyond demoralizing, but every second that passed by, the end of the fight came closer and closer.

“You could back out now.”  Patches said, smugly.  “I’ll take a pack of cigarettes, you ain’t half a bad gal.” 

“No.”  Isabella said, eyes still locked on Alvita.  “I’m winning this, less than a minute or you can have my shoes.”

“You’re insane.”  Patches laughed.  And down they went again, as if it had been choreographed to do so.  The shiv stuck in British’s arm.  She screamed in agony.  The crowd went crazy for first TRUE blood.  The nose was hardly a sight compared to what was likely to come.  Murder was on everyone’s mind here… everyone but Isabella’s.

Silently she prayed, closing her eyes - not wanting to see British die if that was her fate.  The guards hadn’t even raised an alarm.  Truly this was NOTHING like an American jail cell.  Then, a weird silence fell, as if the whole room hit a wall at the same time.  Not yet opened her eyes Isabella smiled, “Amen.”  

She knew that if British had died, that would have been met with another reaction entirely.  So that meant only one possible outcome had finally come to pass.

“What the fuck… ALVITA!” Patches and a few other women were calling out to, and moving on, the woman who had been the alpha bitch of the pen.  In less than 20 seconds old grudges would be settled with that shiv in Alvita’s throat if she didn’t move fast.  

Isabella rushed forward, her fist already being thrown at the first woman coming for Alvita.  Shoulder to shoulder she stood with Patches protecting the unconscious woman from all comers.  “GET THE GUARDS BRITISH!”  Isabella ordered.  She knew it was a long shot but maybe, maybe a British voice crying out to the guards for help would register differently than these locals.  After all, the jail was owned and run by the British government as Jamaica was one of its colonies.    

“GET HER TO THE WALL!”  Isabella screamed at Patches, and she was glad she’d gotten the order out when she did because the next two body blows literally lifted her body up off the ground and left her gasping painfully for air as if she was drowning.  

Patches pulled Alvita back to the corner and began protecting the woman a bit more sensibly.  Unfortunately, this left Isabella alone in the middle of a pack of wolves.  She rolled away from one punch and into another.  It was a blur of limbs and angry faces.  She could hear British’s voice over the din of it all, but just barely.  She should have been questioning the plan, should have been scared to death that there was another shiv in the mix, that soon it would be in her own throat… but she found herself laughing.  

She had to make a statement, something people would talk about… something they would remember in a sea of horrible sights.  Isabella worked up her courage, laughter becoming more crazed as she did - a mirror of her own father’s love of wrath she embraced her darker inclinations this time with wild abandon.

The next arm that came in front of her, Isabella grabbed it and held on for all she was worth.  She had no idea who the woman was, she had nothing for or against her - but someone had to be the example or she’d be a target.  She had to be the scariest thing in here, or she’d never have a moment of peace… if she was going to make them bend, she had to break one.

The woman pulled her arm, as anyone would in the situation, but instead of pulling back against her, Isabella pushed in the direction she wanted to go.  She burst through the crowd and pushed a dark-haired woman hard against the opposite wall.  Again and again, Isabella slammed the forearm with all the force she could muster, up against the wall and pulling it in an awkward angle as she did so.  She hoped to break the arm fantastically but the bitch’s bones were far tougher than she expected.

Isabella impacted the hard packed dirt, face first as her opponent came down atop her.  She was attempting to get an arm around Isabella’s throat when it passed her lips.  Unsure if she could throw the woman from this angle, she did the only thing she could think to do.

Dragon.

Isabella opened her mouth and clamped down with her teeth on the forearm before her.  Behind her, the woman screamed and punched her skull, but Isabella wasn’t yielding, not now that she had a good and secure hold on her.  Gruesome was what she had wanted with the broken arm against the wall - but this… this was sheer madness.  This was something NO ONE would cross.  She locked her jaw and began to twist head.  The taste of blood passed her lips.  Isabella winced but kept shaking, the noise above her went from screams of rage to pain, to animalistic howls of absolute agony.

She could hear the door slamming open as flesh began to give way.  They hit her, but it only took two blows, to make it look good before Isabella willingly gave up the woman’s arm.  The guards pulled her out, as well as Alvita and British and two other women who had been badly injured.  Isabella, however, they dragged out for something other than medical reason.  On the way out she caught a glimpse of Patches, staring in absolute horror at her as the guards dragged her out of the cell.

Blood still dripping from her teeth, she smiled at the woman.  “The Brit won!”  She said, just as the door slammed behind her and she was dragged down the hallway, laughing.
 

The private plane lands in Montego Bay, Jamaica on Thursday afternoon.  Tenkai had been sent by new Consigliere Lushie to meet with Don Isabella who was being held in a Jamaican Prison waiting for extradition.  With Tenkai are three lawyers and a large sum of cash and prison ‘trade goods’ for Isabella to use to make her life more bearable in the jail.

When Tenkai arrived, he could definitely see why she would need such things.  This place is a hell hole compared to American jails.  The dark corridors of cells are made even more unnerving by how they're organized.  First, up front and nearest to the guards, are the cells that hold women.  The next ones hold male offenders, then yardies and in the furthest recesses of this hell hole (far from the watchful eyes of the guards) are those with mental disabilities and illnesses as the prison doubles for an insane asylum.  The screams from that place are almost endless.

The stench of this place is almost unbearable.  The oppressive heat and humidity combined with lack of plumbing, people are literally shitting into holes into the ground in their cells, and tightly packed conditions, 15 people to a cell - no beds, makes for a place that seems God himself has forgotten about.

Tenkai is taken into a small room with no windows and one rickety light.  He’s told to take a seat and Isabella will be brought in.  A few moments later she’s put into the room with Tenkai and the door is locked.  She seems unharmed aside from seeming as though she hasn’t slept.  She’s dressed in a gray prison jumpsuit.

“Thank God you came… did you bring the lawyers with you?”

Upon arriving at his destination, his eyes shocked at such scene, he couldn't believe, his boss was being held here, and why, he didn't know, but he was sure Isabella would tell him in no time flat. As he walked through the prison, he carried a briefcase full of money that she had asked, along with three lawyers following him, he felt a little-pissed off, knowing that his cl was even being held in such a garbage, he had a feeling he wasn't just being sent here just for this, which meant she had a plan up her sleeve, he kept his face black, a poker face, like he was dumb enough to say a word, pfft, yeah right, he would wait until he could see her to get the real plan. 

As Tenkai entered the area where he could see her, he shook his head, he found the place seemed to be rotted through, how disgusting, he took the seat that was offered, after wiping it, because leather that he wore stayed clean, and he then sat down. He watched as she came in, his eyes widened, seeing her complexion had fallen, due to the living arrangements they forced upon her. As Isabella came in, as usual, he wore his black attire, he shook his head, as he looked around after the door was closed, he was also glad that he snuck in something's for her in his pocket, a knife, and some snacks, which he had a feeling of where she could put it. 
"Yes... They are over in the right corner, hiding, keeping silence until you need them." He said, looking to see that she was jumpy. 

"I missed you too... I'm glad you called... I don't mind, we all have to do things sometimes that get us through life... I'm just glad I could see you at all... If you like I can tell the family that you are being a Badass as usual." 

"I'd like for you to tell them I'm well.  Yes.  I don't want anyone feel as though I'm ... like I am.  But that's not why you're here.  Tenkai, I have to admit I know there are some things that are different about you.  I suspect that it might be wiser not to ask about those things, but I'd be a fool to ignore they exist.  You clearly have some skills that, in a dire time like this one, that I can make use of... so I'm going to."

She sighed.  "My Left Hand Man, Stephen Strange has turned state's evidence.  I think he's the reason I'm here.  They're going to have him testify against me and if he does... if he makes it to the trial to speak what he knows, I'm going hang for it."

"I need Stephen found.  No matter where they FBN has hidden him and I need you to make sure he never testifies against me... and that anyone who hears of his fate, always remembers you don't fucking betray Isabella Luciano.  Now... my question is this - with your particular set of skills and talents, are you able to do it?  Do you think you can track down Stephen Strange and, without bringing the FBN down on your own head, end the threat to myself and the Ivory Tower for good?"

"I need a hitman I can trust... Tenkai, it doesn't get much more important than what I'm asking here... so be honest, can you, will you do it?"

He leaned in a little listening, even though, he didn't need to, since he was immortal after all, but others around them didn't know that, as she mentioned his skills, and how he could do certain things that had to admit they couldn't do, he nodded to her, he smiled a little, he leaned back again. 

"So what you are saying is, please tell me I have this right... Stephen not only betrayed you but the family and your father?... Because if he did, go against you, by doing that he betrayed your father as well, bold move, and really stupid." He said as he put his hand over his mouth sighing, wondering what he had to gain for such a crime. 

"Well, boss, when you brought me in, I swore allegiance to you and your father, I could never destroy a good thing I have here, so yes I will do it... I can't take it... Of how you sit here and he is free... Which makes me think he has another plan.... Unless you think I'm wrong... At least I would if I were to do such a crime... Not that I would." He said, hoping she understood. 

He looked at the door, seeing the guards leave, he had a feeling they were being called for something and looked back at the boss, perfect timing. 

"I have a few things you could probably use in here since they don't seem to be doing checks on your bodies... So I have snacks, and a knife and a few other trinkets... If I'm not seeing the extent of such a hell hole, I would ask you to take these... They won't know you have them." He said as he pulled his family heirloom, small hand blade out, he never gave out such a gift, but for the boss, he knew she would need it.

"Here... I know you don't like using weapons and getting caught... But this doesn't seem like America, these people will leave you for dead... So, please... I never give this out ever but has a light in your darkest times... And the inscription is in your nationality tongue... And when you say the word, it will protect you... I know you don't believe in such things but it will make me feel better... I also have a necklace, it's mine but, you can keep it until you get out... Let's just say you don't owe me a thing." Tenkai finished leaning back as he pulled of his necklace and put it around her head, making her cover look good.

She smiled, "Thank you."  She instantly began stuffing the snacks into her mouth, there was no grace or class in what the Don was doing - it was clear, she was starved.  "Oh god... I needed this.  I missed dinner last night and they're giving us rice and sugar.  That's it... through the rice, which I thought was oatmeal this morning, was more like paste."  She shook her head and accepted the other gifts Tenkai had to offer.

"Stephen has been angry with me for a while now."  She said eating as fast as she could so as not to be caught by the guards.  "He was especially mad that Elias and I did not ... renew our relationship.  Dumb ass didn't see that wasn't my fault.  Elias dumped me.  Not the other way around."

Isabella hid the knife.  "I need to talk to the lawyers.  Get word to me when it's done through Lushie."

Isabella put on the necklace.  "I'll treasure it.  Hopefully, they don't rip it off me while I'm sleeping."  She chuckled.  "I know you can do this Tenkai.  I have faith in you."

"Mmm, I figured... Lushie told me they probably weren't feeding you... I'm sorry you are getting the short end of the stick... But I will send word." He said looking back, ignoring the Don as she shoved food into her face, he snapped his fingers at the lawyers making them come closer. 
"Well, I trust you... Besides, that thing can't be ripped... Don't ask, because it's a family secret... Well as for Stephen, I will do it... And I will send word... I won't let you down." He said, as the lawyers came up to the Don, he shook his head, she could even give orders in prison, as always a Badass. 

"I do have a question for when I get back... You seem to be losing family members over Stephen, would you like me to see if I can find more people who want to join?... Because with you in prison I get bored, and I also wanted to help Lushie with bringing people in... If not then that's fine too, but I will send word." He said with a smile, as he stood up, giving the usItalianlian greeting, he bent down kissing both of her cheeks. 

"You know, I never understood these greetings, but they always seem to feel like you are a part of something. "

“You are.  You’re my family Tenkai.  For now, let’s protect the one we got.  When I get back, we’ll focus on growing again.  Stephen cost us dearly but we can either grieve that loss or just know that we’re gonna come back from this stronger.”

She kissed both of his cheeks.  “Good hunting, my immortal beast.”  She said with a smile and bid Tenkai farewell.

An hour after the attack, Gavin checked into the cheap hotel room with the worst attempt at a British accent that anyone in Jamaica had likely ever heard. Fortunately, no one there seemed like they gave a shit. And the extra money he slipped the clerk would hopefully make sure of it. 

He locked the door as he walked in, his hand resting on the pistol under his shoulder. Just to be safe, he tilted the only rickety looking chair in the room under the doorknob.

Walking unsteadily, he leaned forward and gingerly lowered himself onto the bed.

Every thought in his head was screaming at him to stand up and go hurt someone... but there was a time to move and a time to be still. 

When he moved, Gavin wanted to make sure he was ready.

***

He woke up twelve hours later. For a handful of heartbeats, he was happy. He'd been happy, waking up next to Bella every day. When he saw he was in a shitty hotel, the events of the previous night rushed back at him, and he stood, making his way to the bathroom. Pissing, he saw his snarling reflection in the mirror. He lifted up his shirt, noticing the bruising where he'd landed, falling on the man who'd knocked him off the veranda. Still, it felt better than it looked. If he'd been landed on... well, that would be a different story. 

Checking his gun- and missing his knife- Gavin stalked outside and went to find a newspaper. And a drink.

***

The closest bar had both drinks and newspapers, and Gavin consumed them with equal intensity. News of the "incident" was on the front page. He quickly tossed back his drink, pointing at the paper and requesting another for a bartender.

"You see this broad? Can you imagine a gal like that in prison?"

The bartender just laughed and shook his head. Gavin kept going.

"Probably keep her in Kingston, right?"

"Oh, definitely sir. Especially someone like her."

Gavin remained silent. A woman? A criminal? An American? Didn't matter. 

***

Three hours later, he was on a bus pulling into Kingston. He wasn't immediately conscious of that fact, largely because he wasn't conscious at all. But when the bus hit a bump and his head thumped against the window, Gavin awoke with a string of curses that earned him stares from everyone on the bus. 

When the ride was finally over, he lurched down the steps and just started walking. At every intersection, he picked the direction that seemed to lead to a shittier part of the city- and soon he was exactly where he wanted to be: getting mugged.

Well, an attempted mugging, at least. The young man with the knife had expected an easy score from the man walking slowly, but instead he'd received a iron-like grip on the wrist holding the knife and a M1911 digging under his chin.

"I need to hire some people. For a job. The illegal kind, ya got me? Tell me where to find them and I'll let you go."

A few minutes later, Gavin was following the stammered directions into another bar. When he walked in, everyone in the place turned to look at him. Gavin walked over and took a seat at the bar, pointing toward a bottle of rum. The first man who approached him looked young- wanting to prove himself.

"'ey, Whitey, think you're in the wrong-"

Gavin grabbed his arm and twisted the man, thumping his face onto the bartop. He could hear a couple safeties click off, and he made sure everyone could see the gun in his hand as well. He raised his voice, so he was heard clearly.

"Looking for a man named Jordon. Was told he's the man to see for the kind of work I need done."

A middle aged man, tall and thick, stood up.

"And what sort of work is that?"

"Hijacking. Kidnapping. Killing."

Silence greeted him, but the big man nodded.

"I will contact Jordon for you. Be back here tomorrow. Same time. And bring money."

Gavin nodded, then vanished into the night.

***

The next night, Gavin was late for his appointment. Three men had tried to ambush him and take his briefcase. The first one had been slammed into a brick wall, face first. The second one had had his own knife turned against him and was stabbed in the leg. The last one had raised a gun, but Gavin had raised it quicker. He was bleeding out a few blocks away.

The briefcase was scuffed as Gavin walked to the back of the bar and placed it on the table in front of the big man- who was sitting next to, and deferring to, another man in a yellow shirt. Gavin spoke as he forcibly deposited the briefcase on the table.

"If those were your guys, you might need to get new ones."

The two seated men just grinned up at him. The smaller one spoke.

"My name is Jordon. I hear you asked for me."

"I did."

"And what is your name?"

"No name."

"Come, come. I must call you something."

Gavin looked at him for awhile.

"Wolf."

Jordon and the big man laughed.

"Okay, White Wolf. Let's talk about what exactly you want to hire me for..."

***

The next day, Gavin was in a forest outside the city. On the trip out in the van, he only pretended to sleep. His caution was unneeded, however, as Jordon seemed to have no further intention to test him. Based on Gavin's experience back in America, Jordon was a small crewleader. The bigger, middle aged guy- whose name was Linval- was one of his hands. 

Their headquarters was a small camp in the forest. Gavin head the gunshots through the open windows long before he saw it. A few small buildings, a firing range, an outhouse. Gavin took it slow as he stepped out of the car, but the truth was that he was feeling mostly recovered.

Jordon called out a few orders and Linval went off by himself to organize something. Gavin followed Jordon into his office, where they both sank into a pair of chairs on opposite sides of a desk.

"So, White Wolf. Let's finalize things here. Today, you will inspect my crew for this assault of yours. What else do you require?"

"Information?"

"On?"

"Targets. There are a half dozen men here: Americans, government employees... but not here officially. I need locations and times where they'll be."

"That will be expensive."

"I know."

Gavin had no small amount of money of his own, and the funds from Lushie should make things even easier.

"Jordon, I also need you to make me an introduction to a couple people- through an intermediary, if you don't know them or if they wouldn't normally work with men like us."

Jordon took down a couple names with interest. Rising, he placed Gavin's briefcase (now his) into the giant safe on the floor. Then the two of them walked outside, where a line of a dozen men were shooting a row of targets with rifles and pistols. Linval stood behind him, his brawny arms crossed as he studied their accuracy. Gavin looked at Jordon and nodded.

"Give me five days. Then have your men ready."

***

Back in Kingston, the two men sitting with him in the corner of the restaurant looked at him with suspicion. 

"We are not mercenaries, Mister..."

"Byrne."

"Mr. Byrne. We are not doing this because of money. We are doing this to help the people of Jamaica, who cannot afford to care for their families. One dollar a day is a fair wage, and we don't need a-frankly- shady looking American to help us achieve this goal. "

"Mr. Bustamante, I'm not saying you're a mercenary. I'm not asking you to betray your ideals. But some... friends of mine... have made me aware about your many frustrations. Your unrest. There's talk of riots, protests- it seems inevitable."

The other man leaned forward with an inquisitive glance.

"And, Mr. Byrne, we are to believe that you want to join our cause? That you care for the workers of Jamaica?"

"No. I don't really give a shit about them. Or either of you. Or this entire country, with the exception of a little stretch of beach where I-"

Both men were glaring at him, and Gavin looked at them steadily.

"Look- just be honest. Bustamante... Grant... I'm not a believer. You want to create a better world? Great. Go for it. That's not my game. I need to get into the prison and get someone out that I care about. You're going to revolt anyways? You don't need me or my money? I know that. But what I'm saying is that we can help each other out here. You start your protests, and I use you as a distraction. In return, you get a big pile of money for something you were going to do anyways. Use it to help your people. Build a perfect socialist world. I don't care. Now do we have a deal?"

The two men looked at each other and nodded. They didn't shake hands with Gavin, but they seemed ready to play ball.

***

The blood in his veins seemed replaced by adrenaline and alcohol, heated to a boil by the rage that was burning in his chest. It was a cold fire, making his actions not explosive or loud, but deafeningly silent and precise. 

Jordon and his men would be ready to provide back up. Bustamante and Grant had their own cause, but their protests would provide him the cover he needed. They all needed a few days to get organize. Gavin was finally free to act exactly how he pleased.

The list of six names from Jordon's information broker was in his hand.

Robert Hall
Edward Cook
George Taylor
Charles Washington
John Bell
James Foster
Oliver Billings

His plans completed, Gavin did his best to stop thinking about what Bella must have been experiencing- and gave himself over to the hunt.

***

Robert Hall had no reason to be concerned. The mission was a success: the target had been captured, and they had a source that could nail her to the wall. All that was left to do now was wait for the politicians to do their thing and make the extradition happen. Special Agent Billings had a couple of them on duty at any given moment, but the rest were free to enjoy Kingston. Some of the others were off getting into trouble, but Bobby had always loved the ocean. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the fence in front of him as he looked out at the waves. He'd have to come back here with the wife, take advantage of a place like this before they had kids.

He never had a warning. One minute, he was looking at the water. The next, he was clutching desperately at his throat, trying to stem the rush of blood spilling down his chest. His last thoughts were of his wife.

Gavin cast aside his tattered jacket, which had caught some of the splatter. Once he was a safe distance away, he took out his list.

Robert Hall
Edward Cook
George Taylor
Charles Washington
John Bell
James Foster
Oliver Billings

***

Kiyana had just shown up for her first shift of the week, tying her apron around her as she made her way out to her tables. A family was ordering breakfast. A gang of older men was ordering coffee. And there- a white man. A tourist. A big tip, perhaps! Her husband had been working so hard that he was nearly broken, and she'd heard stories of American generosity. This could make her week.

As she approached his table, her mouth expanded into her widest smile and mirth shone through her eyes. When the man ordered coffee, some eggs, toast, and bacon she listened like he was a king giving her commands. She cajoled the cooks in the back to ensure the food was perfect, she stopped by multiple times to fill his coffee, and she even brought him a complimentary newspaper. 

As Edward Cook reached into his rear pocket for his wallet, Kiyana stood there like a gold medal winner at the Olympics. After the sniper's bullet exploded his skull, sending brains and cerebral fluid all over her apron, she never heard the other two shots slam into his now dead body over the sound of her own screams. 

On the roof of the building across the street, Gavin took out his list.

Robert Hall
Edward Cook
George Taylor
Charles Washington
John Bell
James Foster
Oliver Billings

***

George Taylor and Charles Washington were looking for a good time- and they found it. And God Bless America- and the American dollar- because the prostitutes over here were a fraction of the price. For the entire day, they'd lived out every fantasy they'd ever had- and thought up a few more, just for good measure. Taylor was reclined on the bed, a naked woman draped on every limb. He'd need to rest before he went again. 

Washington was in the next room, and Taylor listened disinterestedly to the sounds of enthusiastic fucking. Then he heard a woman scream, and Taylor pulled his arm from one of his women and banged on the wall.

"Shit, Chuck. Don't hurt her too bad. or they'll kick us out of here."

Silence was his only answer. Taylor laughed- but his laughter died suddenly as a man walked around a corner, wiping blood off his knife with a nonchalance that was terrifying. The bearded man glanced at Taylor, surrounded by women and, with a quick gesture of his weapon, sent the girls scurrying away. 

Neither man said anything; they both seemed to waiting for the other man to break the silence. After thirty seconds of this, the bearded man shrugged, removed his gun from its holster, and shot George Taylor three times. Twice in the heart, once in the head.

Turning, he made his way briskly outside into the deepening twilight while reaching into his pocket for pencil and paper.

Robert Hall
Edward Cook
George Taylor
Charles Washington
John Bell
James Foster
Oliver Billings

***

John Bell was an FBN agent due to a marriage of convenience. He wanted to fight, and he didn't want to get arrested. He was a towering man, over 6'5, and his chest was built like a barrel. Billings had told him to enjoy himself and, for him, that meant competing in the best fight club he could find. The natives of this island were decent, he thought, but they couldn't compete with a real American. He'd fought three times, winning all of them. As he walked out to the alley, he counted his winnings. Not that he did it for the money, but it was a nice bonus.

He didn't stop walking as the silhouette appeared on the other end of the alley. In the midnight darkness, he could barely see- but he recognized the man nevertheless; he'd gotten a good look at him during the raid at the restaurant.

"Shit. Gavin Byrne."

Gavin just glared at him.

"I heard you're a fighter, Byrne. Heard you even took down William Bowden. They say you never back down from a fight... well, here I am."

Bell walked toward Gavin with a swagger, raising his hands to challenge Gavin.

Gavin was tempted, for a moment. He'd love to wipe the smug grin off the big guy's face- but he had other fish to fry. And Gavin was in no shape for fighting someone who was half as good as Will, nevermind his FBN equivalent.

Gavin's hand moved in one fluid motion as he drew his gun and fired three times into Bell's chest. Two more shots to the head finished the job, and Gavin disappeared into the network of alleyways. 

Robert Hall
Edward Cook
George Taylor
Charles Washington
John Bell
James Foster
Oliver Billings