“Time?”
“Time to make our plans. Time to finish the job.” His eyes glittered in that predatory way they did occasionally. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“I’mmorethan ready. Let’s do this.”
* * *
The plan was simple enough.A combination of my idea and Angelo’s strategy: we would get a message to Ethan Villiers through Angelo’s black hat hacker, telling him to meet Angelo in a part of Central Park that would be advantageous for us. Angelo picked a place about thirty minutes away from the townhouse, thick with ground cover and bushes. It would allow us to see him approaching, although we could be in for a long wait—or a pointless one, if he never showed.
But I thought he’d show.
I was beginning to understand my erstwhile mentor in a way I never truly had, in a way I had not been able to before, while he kept up his charade. Angelo had not been the only one coping with psychic wounds the past week. Part of me hoped that confronting Villiers might give me that most elusive of experiences: closure.
“What should we say in this message?” I asked. “He’ll be suspicious. We can’t risk him bringing backup, either.”
“We tell him that if he wants another shot at me, to damn well take it.”
It wasn’t what I’d call psychologicallysubtle. But then, neither was Villiers.
* * *
Central Park was colderthan ever as winter had rolled in, and it was particularly unpleasant having to wait in a place separate from Angelo. I was so used to being beside him by then, havinghimbesideme, that I felt strangely bereft sitting there in the bushy undergrowth, in the black of night, all alone. The path was down below me on the incline. Angelo was opposite me on the flatter ground, hidden behind a tree. We’d already been there for almost two hours, and I’d been having flashbacks to the other two stakeouts Angelo and I had undertaken. At least we’d beentogetherfor those, I kept thinking, and I was beginning to wonder if our bait would work at all, if Villiers had just laughed it off, when I heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps heading along the path below.
I cautiously, slowly moved to look through the leaves and twigs, but this part of the Park was not well lit, and all I could see was a dark figure. But it was a dark figure not unlike the one that had crept around Colin O’Sullivan’s house, tempting me into the backyard, and I could see they had a gun. I waited until they had gone a little way past before I called out. “Villiers!”
The footsteps stopped. For a moment there was silence. “Flynn,” he called back. “I’m afraid I didn’t come all this way for you.”
It was now or never. I trusted Angelo to have my back, to have Villiers in his sights. Even if he was still under full capacity, he was more competent than ninety-nine out of a hundred mobsters, I was damn sure of that.
So I stood up, the rustling of leaves immediately giving my position away. “I have a gun,” I warned. I didn’t want him to just try and shoot me then and there. No, I wanted to talk—or rather, get Villiers to talk.
“Congratulations,” came the reply. “You managed to hold on to this one?”
I bit back the sharp reply. He was just trying to piss me off. I decided to play the same card. “Pretty dumb of you to come alone,” I called down.
“Who says I came alone?”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I said nothing.
“Come on, Flynn. Shall we get on with things? Where’s this hero of yours? I only came for him, you know.”
It stung. God, it really did sting to hear the man I’d considered my mentor, my example, the only father figure I had left in my life—to hear him remind me that all the time, as far as he was concerned, I’d been nothing but a tool for him to use.
I took a few steps down the hill, keeping my gun trained on Villiers. And he, in turn, kept his gun on me.
“Messina’s not here,” I said when I could trust my voice. I took a few more steps down the hill. By now I was about twelve feet from Villiers, close enough to see his face in the moonlight.
It looked utterly blank.
“I don’t believe you,” he said. “And put that gun away, Flynn. We both know you’re not going to shoot me. You’re someone who appreciates law and order.”
I took a breath. Now I had to be convincing, to use Villiers’ own expectations against him. “You were right—what you said. That he’d use me for his own purposes and then walk away. After I got him help for the gunshot wound you gave him, he kicked me out.”
He gave a twisted, knowing smile. It looked almost like a grimace in the strange light. “Well, well. You finally found out for yourself what I’d told you for so long.”
“I did. I wish I’d believed you. But I’m not—we’re not working together anymore.”
“Then I’m wasting my time,” Villiers said, and indeed he sounded immediately uninterested. He turned to walk away, but I took a few steps after him, and he turned back to look at me.
