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Description
COLD TOWN:
DEAD MEN CAN TELL TALES
B.B….
A lot of people think that all it takes to be a hired assassin is to be handy with a big gun.  That’s wrong.  I’ll be the first to admit that anyone with a hint of skill can handle a Seeker, the infamous firearm that is now synonymous with hitmen (and hitwomen).  No, to be the best in my business, it’s not about what you have, it’s about what you don’t have.  You can have no mercy, no heart, and no soul.  There’s a saying in my line of work; a full conscience means an empty wallet.
My proper name is Brandi Bernard, but my associates and patrons call me B.B. Gun.  They could call me a self-serving bitch for all I care, as long as they paid my price; $750,000 a hit.
I wouldn’t call myself filthy rich, but I had a place on the nice side of Ambrose, and I could pick and choose my clients.  I might work for criminals, but at least I worked for classy ones.  Low lives like Lenny Java didn’t have a snowman’s chance in Hell of acquiring my services, and personally I think that sexist bastard could care less.  Cherry Bella, on the other hand, had no problem in getting me to come to her suite at the Aphrodite Arms.  She was high class all the way, a shining diamond in the darkness of the underworld.
I stood out a bit to say the least when I showed up.  Bella and her ladies were dressed in the latest European fashion, like they were going to a party at the governor’s mansion.  I wore a black turtleneck sweater, black slacks, and black boots.  Add my ebony hair, and I guess I looked like a living shadow, pretty handy attire when part of your job is to not be seen.
“Good to see you again, B.B.,” said Bella, and I knew she was sincere.  Bella did what she had to do for the business, but as a human being in general, it was hard to find someone more courteous and considerate.  If I wasn’t such a hard-ass, she could easily inspire me to be a better person as well.
“Always a pleasure,” I replied.
“How’s Xeno?” she asked, referring to my one and only real companion in this world… a cat.
“Fat and lazy as always.”  Bella laughed at this, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile.  But then it was down to business.  “So who’s giving you hell this time?”
“No one… at the moment,” shrugged Bella.  “However, when it comes to the potential success of the Cruel Kitty, I can’t take any chances.”
“So basically, I’m a back-up plan,” I sighed.  Bella could sense the annoyance in my voice, but still gave me her usual warm smile as she pulled out a suitcase.
“Hit or no hit, B.B., you’re still getting paid,” she said.  “The last thing I want to do is waste the time of my favorite assassin.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” I joked.  Another laugh from Bella.
“So here’s the deal,” she then said in a more serious tone.  “I’ve got two gentlemen doing a job for me.  Come here tomorrow night and you’ll see them.  Now, while I trust them to get the job done, I’m a little cautious of how loose their tongues might become if the wrong people find out that they’re doing for me.  So I wouldn’t exactly call you a back-up plan… more like an insurance policy.”
That did have a prettier ring to it, that and the fact that I was getting paid whatever the case.
“Once you ‘meet’ these two gentlemen, I want you to stay on them, watch their every move… especially if Java finds out what’s going on and places his dirty hooves on them.  The second they even agree to run their mouths about my operation and those involved… take’em out.”
“You do realize that twice the hit means twice the cost,” I said, even though I knew Bella knew that already.
“One and a half million.”  Bella put the case on the table.  “You know, pretty soon you could have yourself a nice place outside of the country… put this life behind you.  I sure would miss you though.”
I cracked her another smile as I took the case.  Truth be told, I’d miss Cherry Bella too.

Another key to being an accomplished assassin is to not think about work unless you’re working.  Even a cold heart can’t keep that from driving you crazy.  Trouble was I didn’t have much else to think about.  J and G’s Diner fixed that to an extent.  The food was good, and the conversation was better.  Jason and Ginger Antonio, the couple who ran the place, seemed to know about anything and everything going on in downtown Ambrose, even the things certain individuals (or gangs of individuals) didn’t want the police or the average citizen to know about.  I’m surprised they didn’t know about my “little secret”.  Well, at least they didn’t say anything.
As I sat there nursing a cup of coffee, a man walked in and sat beside me at the counter.  He was one of those rugged handsome types; dreamy eyes and five o’clock shadow, muscles and messy hair.  Jason Antonio gave him a smile of greeting through his bushy, brown beard while Ginger waved from the kitchen.
“Hiya Burns!” she yelled cheerfully.  The man replied with a slight wave.
“The usual, Burns?” asked Jason.
“Just a patty melt today,” said the one known as Burns.  “I’ve gotta get a delivery done.”
“You know, the guy who delivers here says they’re lookin’ for an extra driver,” said Jason.  “Good pay and it would beat workin’ for that screwball Java.”
So, Prince Charming with the patty melt worked for Lenny Java.  Poor guy.  Maybe he should have taken Jason’s advice.
“I thought about quittin’,” said Burns.  “Gotta reason not to now.”
“Ah,” said Ginger as she walked out from the kitchen.  She had obviously heard every word… super hearing for all I knew.  “You and that pretty bartender hit it off?”
“Sort of.”  I saw a slight shade of red in those cheeks.  How sweet; a hard-shelled romantic.
“Never thought you were the Romeo-type,” joked Jason.  “You always seemed to keep to yourself.  Hell, G and I had to break down the Walls of Jericho just to get you to say two words to us.”
“Guess I was waitin’ for the right person to come along,” shrugged Burns.  “I just didn’t know it.”
I finally decided to put in my two pennies.  “Must be nice to find somebody like that, pretty rare in this city.”
“Yeah.”  That’s all he said in response before checking his watch.  “Hey G, could you make that patty melt to go?”
“Already got the sack ready for ya,” chuckled G.
After Burns left, two police detectives walked in; one male, one female; Moore and Golden.  While most of the police in Ambrose were hopeless or corrupt, these two were still fighting the good fight.  I admired that and all, but I wasn’t sticking around when they started asking questions.  I liked Cherry Bella, and would like to see Lenny Java dead, but I didn’t want the law connecting me with either of them.

I didn’t believe it.  There he was, the same scruffy romantic from the diner, standing right there in front of Cherry Bella.  Beside him was a short, jittery fellow who seemed more interested in the ladies in Bella’s Aphrodite Arms suite than what Cherry herself was saying.   I was listening though as I sat in the back corner like the shadow I was, making mental notes.  After all, it was my job to follow these guys.  The one known as Burns didn’t seem like someone who would rat anyone in the Broken Hearts out.  The other one, who went by the name of Jo-Bo, I wasn’t so sure about.  I talked to Bella outside while Burns and Jo-Bo were socializing.  She felt the same way.  So that was the plan:  I’d trail the perv while Bella’s girls concentrated on the Casanova.

I hated when the job required me to go to the Java House.  For one, the place was filthy and the dangers of second-hand smoke were anywhere and everywhere.  And two, I always had to wear some lame disguise.  Those in Java’s gang that knew about me despised me as much as I did them.  Tonight, it was sunglasses, fake mustache, a taped-down chest, and tacky Hawaiian shirt.  I looked like a damn tourist.  I was sitting in a booth working on a beer when Jo-Bo came running in, panting like a fat dog and asking for Lenny.  That jolly nutcase Hoax laughed like a monkey at Jo-Bo’s panic, but then went to get Java, who came storming out of his office with a cigar in his left hand and none other than Bella’s undercover stripper Inferna on his right arm.  Jo-Bo whispered something in his ear, and then the crime boss went off.  After busting up two barstools and knocking half the glasses off the bar, he howled for the rest of his dirty gang.  Inferna then whispered something in his ear as well.  But once the other members of the Devil’s Seven walked in, everything was loud and clear.
“Get Pozkowski!” he barked.  “And if any of his half-retarded thugs give you shit, gun’em down!  But I want that bastard alive and able to answer a few questions!”
Bella was a genius, a cruel one for making poor Pozkowski a scapegoat, but still a genius.

One night after the chaos which revolved around the Cold delivery, I had to put up with my own personal drama outside J and G’s Diner.  I had just gotten a quick bite and was on my way to Bella’s party at the Cruel Kitty when I was confronted by Detectives Moore and Golden.  According to Jason and Ginger, they had been paying a call to the diner every day for the past week.  Moore was an aging gentleman on the verge of retirement.  Golden was much younger, and quite a lovely lady behind that bland gray and black uniform.
“Evenin’, sweetie,” grinned Moore.  “Enjoy your meal?”
“No time for small talk, Detective,” I said in my ever dry sense of impolite honesty.  “Got places to go.  What’s the problem?”
“You a friend of Cherry Bella?” asked Golden.  Most would be sweating bullets right about now, wondering how and why two stalwart members of the other side of the law acquired such personal information.  But I play it cool.  You stay out of trouble that way.
“Cherry Bella’s got lots of friends,” I said calmly.  “She’s well respected around here.”
“We know,” chuckled Moore.  “That’s why we need all the help we can get to take down both her and Lenny Java.”
“Don’t ask us how or why we acquired such information,” said Golden.  I almost laughed to myself.  “But we know you were present in Bella’s suite the other night.  Something about a Cold delivery?”
“I was there for my own reasons,” I said.  “I don’t involve myself with Cold.  I don’t buy it, I don’t sell it, I don’t drink it.  You’re asking the wrong person the wrong questions, so if they’re nothing else, I have to go.”
“Nothing for now,” sighed Moore.  “But if you are hiding something from us… anything… it may help you in the long run to come clean.”
“I’ll remember that,” I nodded… as if that would ever happen.  I’ve been in my line of work for far too long.
“Well, if you do have anything to say, here’s our card,” said Golden as she passed me the little piece of info.  I placed it in my jacket pocket, with no intention of taking it out except maybe to flick it into the nearest trash receptacle.  And without a “good night”, Moore and Golden walked away.  And while I was all calm and cool on the outside, I had a bad feeling in the put of my stomach.  Some serious shit was about to go down in Ambrose.

The Gnome, Lenny Java’s hired photographer, was a lot like me in the sense that he didn’t like to be noticed when he was working.  Maybe that’s why I was apparently the only one at the Cruel Kitty who paid any attention to him.  He seemed to be concentrating on my two possible future targets, Jo-Bo and Burns, taking his own deadly shots with that fancy camera of his.  I wasn’t worried about the Gnome though, but I did consider the notion that Java’s discovery of Jo-Bo and Burns’ presence at this little get-together might lead to one or both of them squealing in order to save their necks.  That’s when I would of course come in.  Not to sound like a total bitch, but the idea of picking off Jo-Bo didn’t bother me.  The man led a pretty wasted life anyway.  But when I saw Burns laughing and cuddling up with that lovely lady of his, I almost felt a sense of dread that I might have to end his existence as well.  I remember how joyous it was to love someone… all those ages ago, and I know about the pain that crushes you when someone destroys everything that means anything to you.
Damn, B.B., I thought.  Don’t get soft now.  I’ve never had to hide any kind of emotion from Cherry Bella, no sign that my razor edge was dulling a bit.  So, in essence, I didn’t know how to hide it, and Bella could see into a soul in ways that no other crime lord could.  But with her gift also came understanding.
“I thought you put Dan in the past,” said Bella as she approached me outside the Cruel Kitty.  I had to get some air.  I’m not a social creature.  I couldn’t take the rowdy atmosphere anymore.
“You saw me then… looking at the two lovebirds,” I sighed.  No point in denying the obvious.
“We’re killers, B.B.,” reminded Bella.  “We’ve taken on a life that knows no past… no future.  Just what we have to do at the moment.  It’s the only part of our life that can’t consume us.”
“You’re a poet, Cherry.”
“I want to give you something.”  Bella then tossed me a small booklet.  I caught with my freak of nature reflex and looked at the title.
“To Only Exist for a Second by Ah Li Han,” I read aloud.  “Never heard of her.”
“Most people on this side of the world haven’t,” said Bella.  “But she was an amazing woman, a Buddhist Nun who never focused on anything but what was there in the present moment.  She lived over a hundred years, making every moment count… as if it were her last.”
“I’m not a religious person, Cherry,” I said as I placed the book in my pocket.
“Neither was she,” smiled Bella, who then made her way back inside.
I took the book back out and flipped to a random page.  And like most who do that, the words I looked upon first seemed to spring out at me.
“Death’s sting is most powerful when it follows a life that had no worth.”
“Must be talking about Jo-Bo,” I whispered, but behind my quiet levity a loud voice pondered if the same words were meant for me.

That evening, the nightmares came back.  Like Bella said, all those bad memories should have stayed locked away.  But they found their way back out after that party, and now my subconscious was going to pay the price…
Little Dan, sweet little Dan; the only good thing to come out of a relationship that was doomed from the beginning.  There he was before me, a beautiful, chubby, three year old boy, just like the last time I saw him.  He was there in the park playground, running and laughing without a care in the world, occasionally calling out to me.
“Hi mommy!  Hi mommy!”
I waved back, remembering that warmth… that soul inside me.  Damn… what was it like to be happy?
Then, the dream took the same dark twist it took before.  The sun grew black, and the streetlights showed a dim, eerie light on my Dan… like evil eyes that were searching him out… and found him.
Then came the figure; the silhouette who appeared out of nowhere and came to tear my life apart.  As he approached Dan, I tried to stop him, but the strong hand of inevitable fate held me back.  I was motionless… helpless… useless.  Dan, so innocent, took the creature by the hand, and walked away with him into an abyss, a place where my baby could never return to me.  Before they departed, the figure looked back at me.  The face of a man was suddenly replaced by that of a grinning, fanged skull… the face of my son’s death.
I woke up, sweating and weeping, calling Dan’s name.  I didn’t sleep a wink the rest of that night, and wondered if I could ever sleep again.  It took everything out of me to get rid of those nightmares before.  Would I find the strength to do it again?

Come on, B.B., time to go to work.  I was atop the Sailor Sally Fish Stick Factory, Seeker in hand.  Not long before that, I was outside Jo-Bo’s apartment building, watching Java’s two giggling goons Hoax and Leach escort him to their car.  I knew right away where they were taking him… the docks, where the Devil’s Seven held court.  Sailor Sally’s was the most efficient vantage point I could find; perfect aim and supposedly safe from view.  Now to wait… to wait for Jo-Bo to start talking.  Thanks to good ole modern technology, I could hear every word spoken on those dirty docks via the K-9 Receiver in my left ear.
“I don’t know anybody… I swear,” said Jo-Bo.  Some lesser skilled assassins might have decided to hold back at this.  Not me.  I could tell the poor man was losing his restraint.
“Extend his vocabulary,” said Lenny Java to that one brutal stooge of his… Aries I believe.  The big man punched him in the stomach.  Lenny then pointed to another one of the Seven, a creepy man in purple, an oddly familiar man… who sort of looked like…
“Now talk, goof, or I’ll let Lowman have some fun with ya.”  Lenny interrupted my thoughts, which was for the best.  I couldn’t lose my focus.  I had a reputation to uphold.  One poor shot in this situation would ruin everything.
“O…okay,” said Jo-Bo.  I aimed my Seeker… right for his skull.  “Just please…”  Finger on the trigger.  “Don’t kill…”  The job was done, and I got up to walk away.  However, Java spotted me… and the next thing that happened might haunt me for the rest of my life.
I had come to find out that his name was Lowman, the Devil’s Seven’s silent torturer and killer… but I already knew him as someone else.  When he confronted me below Sailor Sally’s, I recognized him right away; the infamous Carmenville Child-Killer whose face was all over the news for months and months until the police finally just gave up.  The man in my nightmare… the man who killed my son.  I thought over the scenario about a million times… what I would do if I ever met this monster.  I would take justice into my own hands, slowly take his life away, breath by breath, blood drop by blood drop.  But I wasn’t prepared for this moment, prepared for the sudden shock of gazing into his cold, satanic eyes.  I trembled so hard that I dropped my gun.  He seemed a tad confused by this, but then slowly approached me, knives in hand.  And all I could do was stand there and let him slash my right arm, followed by my left.  I muffled a scream.  I wasn’t supposed to show or feel pain.  I, like Lowman, had no heart.  Then, came the cut across my left cheek.  He was toying with me… as he must have done with all his victims.  I still wonder how close I came to letting him kill me before I finally allowed my own rage to take over and roundhouse kick him to the ground.  I then grabbed one of his knives and aimed for his chest, but I was so delusional and dizzy from blood loss that I stabbed his right shoulder instead.  Not a howl of pain… not even a whimper.  This bastard was not human.  I rose, and in a second fit of rage, I stomped him… and stomped him… and stomped him.  But again, there was no reaction.
“What the fuck are you!”  I screamed.  “You deserve to feel pain!  You deserve to suffer!  Why aren’t you suffering!”
Then, he laughed.  This silent maniac laughed like an army of Hell’s little imps.  Then, my mind allowed me to see that face again… Lowman’s face in the nightmare.  From there everything went black.  I don’t know if was the blood loss or the rush of taking this all in… but now the headlights were on, but nobody was driving.
The next thing I recollected was lying on a sofa in Cherry Bella’s suite.  Bella was over by the window, looking down at the city below.  Aside from us, the room was empty.  As I walked over to her, I noticed my wounds had been treated and bandaged.
“How did I get here?” I whispered.
“I don’t know,” said Bella, her voice troubled.  “We came back and found you here, fast asleep.”
Did I walk back there?  Did some kind of animal instinct lead me here?  What happened to Lowman?  Was he still alive?  If so, why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance?
“It’s gone, B.B.,” sighed Cherry.  “The Cruel Kitty is gone.  Java had that arsonist of his blow it up.”
“I guess tonight we both remembered the pain of loss,” I said.  Then, I suddenly realized something.  “Oh shit…Burns…”
“He didn’t talk,” said Bella with a slight laugh.
“Did Java kill…?”
“No, but we showed up just in the nick of time.  Though I wonder if he has anything left to live for.”
The shell that seemed to cover me all these years chipped away completely by the sympathy I felt for a man I didn’t even know.
“They killed her… didn’t they?”  I said.  “The Devil’s Seven just keep taking away… her, your night club… Dan.”  Bella turned to me at this.  After a second, she embraced me.  I did consider Bella my friend, despite my foolish notion that I had no friends.  I knew this now because I let myself cry in her arms.
“But tonight… we start taking away from them,” she whispered.

Once I left the Aphrodite Arms, I found myself reading the card Moore and Golden gave me.  I stepped over to the nearest pay phone, and after a hint of hesitation, I dialed the number.
“Detective Joe Moore,” said the voice on the other end.
“There’s a war coming, Detective,” I said. “Time to be a hero again.”  That’s all I said before I hung up and made my way to J and G’s Diner.  I just realized how hungry I was.

Description
COLD TOWN:
DEAD MEN CAN TELL TALES
B.B….
A lot of people think that all it takes to be a hired assassin is to be handy with a big gun.  That’s wrong.  I’ll be the first to admit that anyone with a hint of skill can handle a Seeker, the infamous firearm that is now synonymous with hitmen (and hitwomen).  No, to be the best in my business, it’s not about what you have, it’s about what you don’t have.  You can have no mercy, no heart, and no soul.  There’s a saying in my line of work; a full conscience means an empty wallet.
My proper name is Brandi Bernard, but my associates and patrons call me B.B. Gun.  They could call me a self-serving bitch for all I care, as long as they paid my price; $750,000 a hit.
I wouldn’t call myself filthy rich, but I had a place on the nice side of Ambrose, and I could pick and choose my clients.  I might work for criminals, but at least I worked for classy ones.  Low lives like Lenny Java didn’t have a snowman’s chance in Hell of acquiring my services, and personally I think that sexist bastard could care less.  Cherry Bella, on the other hand, had no problem in getting me to come to her suite at the Aphrodite Arms.  She was high class all the way, a shining diamond in the darkness of the underworld.
I stood out a bit to say the least when I showed up.  Bella and her ladies were dressed in the latest European fashion, like they were going to a party at the governor’s mansion.  I wore a black turtleneck sweater, black slacks, and black boots.  Add my ebony hair, and I guess I looked like a living shadow, pretty handy attire when part of your job is to not be seen.
“Good to see you again, B.B.,” said Bella, and I knew she was sincere.  Bella did what she had to do for the business, but as a human being in general, it was hard to find someone more courteous and considerate.  If I wasn’t such a hard-ass, she could easily inspire me to be a better person as well.
“Always a pleasure,” I replied.
“How’s Xeno?” she asked, referring to my one and only real companion in this world… a cat.
“Fat and lazy as always.”  Bella laughed at this, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile.  But then it was down to business.  “So who’s giving you hell this time?”
“No one… at the moment,” shrugged Bella.  “However, when it comes to the potential success of the Cruel Kitty, I can’t take any chances.”
“So basically, I’m a back-up plan,” I sighed.  Bella could sense the annoyance in my voice, but still gave me her usual warm smile as she pulled out a suitcase.
“Hit or no hit, B.B., you’re still getting paid,” she said.  “The last thing I want to do is waste the time of my favorite assassin.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” I joked.  Another laugh from Bella.
“So here’s the deal,” she then said in a more serious tone.  “I’ve got two gentlemen doing a job for me.  Come here tomorrow night and you’ll see them.  Now, while I trust them to get the job done, I’m a little cautious of how loose their tongues might become if the wrong people find out that they’re doing for me.  So I wouldn’t exactly call you a back-up plan… more like an insurance policy.”
That did have a prettier ring to it, that and the fact that I was getting paid whatever the case.
“Once you ‘meet’ these two gentlemen, I want you to stay on them, watch their every move… especially if Java finds out what’s going on and places his dirty hooves on them.  The second they even agree to run their mouths about my operation and those involved… take’em out.”
“You do realize that twice the hit means twice the cost,” I said, even though I knew Bella knew that already.
“One and a half million.”  Bella put the case on the table.  “You know, pretty soon you could have yourself a nice place outside of the country… put this life behind you.  I sure would miss you though.”
I cracked her another smile as I took the case.  Truth be told, I’d miss Cherry Bella too.

Another key to being an accomplished assassin is to not think about work unless you’re working.  Even a cold heart can’t keep that from driving you crazy.  Trouble was I didn’t have much else to think about.  J and G’s Diner fixed that to an extent.  The food was good, and the conversation was better.  Jason and Ginger Antonio, the couple who ran the place, seemed to know about anything and everything going on in downtown Ambrose, even the things certain individuals (or gangs of individuals) didn’t want the police or the average citizen to know about.  I’m surprised they didn’t know about my “little secret”.  Well, at least they didn’t say anything.
As I sat there nursing a cup of coffee, a man walked in and sat beside me at the counter.  He was one of those rugged handsome types; dreamy eyes and five o’clock shadow, muscles and messy hair.  Jason Antonio gave him a smile of greeting through his bushy, brown beard while Ginger waved from the kitchen.
“Hiya Burns!” she yelled cheerfully.  The man replied with a slight wave.
“The usual, Burns?” asked Jason.
“Just a patty melt today,” said the one known as Burns.  “I’ve gotta get a delivery done.”
“You know, the guy who delivers here says they’re lookin’ for an extra driver,” said Jason.  “Good pay and it would beat workin’ for that screwball Java.”
So, Prince Charming with the patty melt worked for Lenny Java.  Poor guy.  Maybe he should have taken Jason’s advice.
“I thought about quittin’,” said Burns.  “Gotta reason not to now.”
“Ah,” said Ginger as she walked out from the kitchen.  She had obviously heard every word… super hearing for all I knew.  “You and that pretty bartender hit it off?”
“Sort of.”  I saw a slight shade of red in those cheeks.  How sweet; a hard-shelled romantic.
“Never thought you were the Romeo-type,” joked Jason.  “You always seemed to keep to yourself.  Hell, G and I had to break down the Walls of Jericho just to get you to say two words to us.”
“Guess I was waitin’ for the right person to come along,” shrugged Burns.  “I just didn’t know it.”
I finally decided to put in my two pennies.  “Must be nice to find somebody like that, pretty rare in this city.”
“Yeah.”  That’s all he said in response before checking his watch.  “Hey G, could you make that patty melt to go?”
“Already got the sack ready for ya,” chuckled G.
After Burns left, two police detectives walked in; one male, one female; Moore and Golden.  While most of the police in Ambrose were hopeless or corrupt, these two were still fighting the good fight.  I admired that and all, but I wasn’t sticking around when they started asking questions.  I liked Cherry Bella, and would like to see Lenny Java dead, but I didn’t want the law connecting me with either of them.

I didn’t believe it.  There he was, the same scruffy romantic from the diner, standing right there in front of Cherry Bella.  Beside him was a short, jittery fellow who seemed more interested in the ladies in Bella’s Aphrodite Arms suite than what Cherry herself was saying.   I was listening though as I sat in the back corner like the shadow I was, making mental notes.  After all, it was my job to follow these guys.  The one known as Burns didn’t seem like someone who would rat anyone in the Broken Hearts out.  The other one, who went by the name of Jo-Bo, I wasn’t so sure about.  I talked to Bella outside while Burns and Jo-Bo were socializing.  She felt the same way.  So that was the plan:  I’d trail the perv while Bella’s girls concentrated on the Casanova.

I hated when the job required me to go to the Java House.  For one, the place was filthy and the dangers of second-hand smoke were anywhere and everywhere.  And two, I always had to wear some lame disguise.  Those in Java’s gang that knew about me despised me as much as I did them.  Tonight, it was sunglasses, fake mustache, a taped-down chest, and tacky Hawaiian shirt.  I looked like a damn tourist.  I was sitting in a booth working on a beer when Jo-Bo came running in, panting like a fat dog and asking for Lenny.  That jolly nutcase Hoax laughed like a monkey at Jo-Bo’s panic, but then went to get Java, who came storming out of his office with a cigar in his left hand and none other than Bella’s undercover stripper Inferna on his right arm.  Jo-Bo whispered something in his ear, and then the crime boss went off.  After busting up two barstools and knocking half the glasses off the bar, he howled for the rest of his dirty gang.  Inferna then whispered something in his ear as well.  But once the other members of the Devil’s Seven walked in, everything was loud and clear.
“Get Pozkowski!” he barked.  “And if any of his half-retarded thugs give you shit, gun’em down!  But I want that bastard alive and able to answer a few questions!”
Bella was a genius, a cruel one for making poor Pozkowski a scapegoat, but still a genius.

One night after the chaos which revolved around the Cold delivery, I had to put up with my own personal drama outside J and G’s Diner.  I had just gotten a quick bite and was on my way to Bella’s party at the Cruel Kitty when I was confronted by Detectives Moore and Golden.  According to Jason and Ginger, they had been paying a call to the diner every day for the past week.  Moore was an aging gentleman on the verge of retirement.  Golden was much younger, and quite a lovely lady behind that bland gray and black uniform.
“Evenin’, sweetie,” grinned Moore.  “Enjoy your meal?”
“No time for small talk, Detective,” I said in my ever dry sense of impolite honesty.  “Got places to go.  What’s the problem?”
“You a friend of Cherry Bella?” asked Golden.  Most would be sweating bullets right about now, wondering how and why two stalwart members of the other side of the law acquired such personal information.  But I play it cool.  You stay out of trouble that way.
“Cherry Bella’s got lots of friends,” I said calmly.  “She’s well respected around here.”
“We know,” chuckled Moore.  “That’s why we need all the help we can get to take down both her and Lenny Java.”
“Don’t ask us how or why we acquired such information,” said Golden.  I almost laughed to myself.  “But we know you were present in Bella’s suite the other night.  Something about a Cold delivery?”
“I was there for my own reasons,” I said.  “I don’t involve myself with Cold.  I don’t buy it, I don’t sell it, I don’t drink it.  You’re asking the wrong person the wrong questions, so if they’re nothing else, I have to go.”
“Nothing for now,” sighed Moore.  “But if you are hiding something from us… anything… it may help you in the long run to come clean.”
“I’ll remember that,” I nodded… as if that would ever happen.  I’ve been in my line of work for far too long.
“Well, if you do have anything to say, here’s our card,” said Golden as she passed me the little piece of info.  I placed it in my jacket pocket, with no intention of taking it out except maybe to flick it into the nearest trash receptacle.  And without a “good night”, Moore and Golden walked away.  And while I was all calm and cool on the outside, I had a bad feeling in the put of my stomach.  Some serious shit was about to go down in Ambrose.

The Gnome, Lenny Java’s hired photographer, was a lot like me in the sense that he didn’t like to be noticed when he was working.  Maybe that’s why I was apparently the only one at the Cruel Kitty who paid any attention to him.  He seemed to be concentrating on my two possible future targets, Jo-Bo and Burns, taking his own deadly shots with that fancy camera of his.  I wasn’t worried about the Gnome though, but I did consider the notion that Java’s discovery of Jo-Bo and Burns’ presence at this little get-together might lead to one or both of them squealing in order to save their necks.  That’s when I would of course come in.  Not to sound like a total bitch, but the idea of picking off Jo-Bo didn’t bother me.  The man led a pretty wasted life anyway.  But when I saw Burns laughing and cuddling up with that lovely lady of his, I almost felt a sense of dread that I might have to end his existence as well.  I remember how joyous it was to love someone… all those ages ago, and I know about the pain that crushes you when someone destroys everything that means anything to you.
Damn, B.B., I thought.  Don’t get soft now.  I’ve never had to hide any kind of emotion from Cherry Bella, no sign that my razor edge was dulling a bit.  So, in essence, I didn’t know how to hide it, and Bella could see into a soul in ways that no other crime lord could.  But with her gift also came understanding.
“I thought you put Dan in the past,” said Bella as she approached me outside the Cruel Kitty.  I had to get some air.  I’m not a social creature.  I couldn’t take the rowdy atmosphere anymore.
“You saw me then… looking at the two lovebirds,” I sighed.  No point in denying the obvious.
“We’re killers, B.B.,” reminded Bella.  “We’ve taken on a life that knows no past… no future.  Just what we have to do at the moment.  It’s the only part of our life that can’t consume us.”
“You’re a poet, Cherry.”
“I want to give you something.”  Bella then tossed me a small booklet.  I caught with my freak of nature reflex and looked at the title.
“To Only Exist for a Second by Ah Li Han,” I read aloud.  “Never heard of her.”
“Most people on this side of the world haven’t,” said Bella.  “But she was an amazing woman, a Buddhist Nun who never focused on anything but what was there in the present moment.  She lived over a hundred years, making every moment count… as if it were her last.”
“I’m not a religious person, Cherry,” I said as I placed the book in my pocket.
“Neither was she,” smiled Bella, who then made her way back inside.
I took the book back out and flipped to a random page.  And like most who do that, the words I looked upon first seemed to spring out at me.
“Death’s sting is most powerful when it follows a life that had no worth.”
“Must be talking about Jo-Bo,” I whispered, but behind my quiet levity a loud voice pondered if the same words were meant for me.

That evening, the nightmares came back.  Like Bella said, all those bad memories should have stayed locked away.  But they found their way back out after that party, and now my subconscious was going to pay the price…
Little Dan, sweet little Dan; the only good thing to come out of a relationship that was doomed from the beginning.  There he was before me, a beautiful, chubby, three year old boy, just like the last time I saw him.  He was there in the park playground, running and laughing without a care in the world, occasionally calling out to me.
“Hi mommy!  Hi mommy!”
I waved back, remembering that warmth… that soul inside me.  Damn… what was it like to be happy?
Then, the dream took the same dark twist it took before.  The sun grew black, and the streetlights showed a dim, eerie light on my Dan… like evil eyes that were searching him out… and found him.
Then came the figure; the silhouette who appeared out of nowhere and came to tear my life apart.  As he approached Dan, I tried to stop him, but the strong hand of inevitable fate held me back.  I was motionless… helpless… useless.  Dan, so innocent, took the creature by the hand, and walked away with him into an abyss, a place where my baby could never return to me.  Before they departed, the figure looked back at me.  The face of a man was suddenly replaced by that of a grinning, fanged skull… the face of my son’s death.
I woke up, sweating and weeping, calling Dan’s name.  I didn’t sleep a wink the rest of that night, and wondered if I could ever sleep again.  It took everything out of me to get rid of those nightmares before.  Would I find the strength to do it again?

Come on, B.B., time to go to work.  I was atop the Sailor Sally Fish Stick Factory, Seeker in hand.  Not long before that, I was outside Jo-Bo’s apartment building, watching Java’s two giggling goons Hoax and Leach escort him to their car.  I knew right away where they were taking him… the docks, where the Devil’s Seven held court.  Sailor Sally’s was the most efficient vantage point I could find; perfect aim and supposedly safe from view.  Now to wait… to wait for Jo-Bo to start talking.  Thanks to good ole modern technology, I could hear every word spoken on those dirty docks via the K-9 Receiver in my left ear.
“I don’t know anybody… I swear,” said Jo-Bo.  Some lesser skilled assassins might have decided to hold back at this.  Not me.  I could tell the poor man was losing his restraint.
“Extend his vocabulary,” said Lenny Java to that one brutal stooge of his… Aries I believe.  The big man punched him in the stomach.  Lenny then pointed to another one of the Seven, a creepy man in purple, an oddly familiar man… who sort of looked like…
“Now talk, goof, or I’ll let Lowman have some fun with ya.”  Lenny interrupted my thoughts, which was for the best.  I couldn’t lose my focus.  I had a reputation to uphold.  One poor shot in this situation would ruin everything.
“O…okay,” said Jo-Bo.  I aimed my Seeker… right for his skull.  “Just please…”  Finger on the trigger.  “Don’t kill…”  The job was done, and I got up to walk away.  However, Java spotted me… and the next thing that happened might haunt me for the rest of my life.
I had come to find out that his name was Lowman, the Devil’s Seven’s silent torturer and killer… but I already knew him as someone else.  When he confronted me below Sailor Sally’s, I recognized him right away; the infamous Carmenville Child-Killer whose face was all over the news for months and months until the police finally just gave up.  The man in my nightmare… the man who killed my son.  I thought over the scenario about a million times… what I would do if I ever met this monster.  I would take justice into my own hands, slowly take his life away, breath by breath, blood drop by blood drop.  But I wasn’t prepared for this moment, prepared for the sudden shock of gazing into his cold, satanic eyes.  I trembled so hard that I dropped my gun.  He seemed a tad confused by this, but then slowly approached me, knives in hand.  And all I could do was stand there and let him slash my right arm, followed by my left.  I muffled a scream.  I wasn’t supposed to show or feel pain.  I, like Lowman, had no heart.  Then, came the cut across my left cheek.  He was toying with me… as he must have done with all his victims.  I still wonder how close I came to letting him kill me before I finally allowed my own rage to take over and roundhouse kick him to the ground.  I then grabbed one of his knives and aimed for his chest, but I was so delusional and dizzy from blood loss that I stabbed his right shoulder instead.  Not a howl of pain… not even a whimper.  This bastard was not human.  I rose, and in a second fit of rage, I stomped him… and stomped him… and stomped him.  But again, there was no reaction.
“What the fuck are you!”  I screamed.  “You deserve to feel pain!  You deserve to suffer!  Why aren’t you suffering!”
Then, he laughed.  This silent maniac laughed like an army of Hell’s little imps.  Then, my mind allowed me to see that face again… Lowman’s face in the nightmare.  From there everything went black.  I don’t know if was the blood loss or the rush of taking this all in… but now the headlights were on, but nobody was driving.
The next thing I recollected was lying on a sofa in Cherry Bella’s suite.  Bella was over by the window, looking down at the city below.  Aside from us, the room was empty.  As I walked over to her, I noticed my wounds had been treated and bandaged.
“How did I get here?” I whispered.
“I don’t know,” said Bella, her voice troubled.  “We came back and found you here, fast asleep.”
Did I walk back there?  Did some kind of animal instinct lead me here?  What happened to Lowman?  Was he still alive?  If so, why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance?
“It’s gone, B.B.,” sighed Cherry.  “The Cruel Kitty is gone.  Java had that arsonist of his blow it up.”
“I guess tonight we both remembered the pain of loss,” I said.  Then, I suddenly realized something.  “Oh shit…Burns…”
“He didn’t talk,” said Bella with a slight laugh.
“Did Java kill…?”
“No, but we showed up just in the nick of time.  Though I wonder if he has anything left to live for.”
The shell that seemed to cover me all these years chipped away completely by the sympathy I felt for a man I didn’t even know.
“They killed her… didn’t they?”  I said.  “The Devil’s Seven just keep taking away… her, your night club… Dan.”  Bella turned to me at this.  After a second, she embraced me.  I did consider Bella my friend, despite my foolish notion that I had no friends.  I knew this now because I let myself cry in her arms.
“But tonight… we start taking away from them,” she whispered.

Once I left the Aphrodite Arms, I found myself reading the card Moore and Golden gave me.  I stepped over to the nearest pay phone, and after a hint of hesitation, I dialed the number.
“Detective Joe Moore,” said the voice on the other end.
“There’s a war coming, Detective,” I said. “Time to be a hero again.”  That’s all I said before I hung up and made my way to J and G’s Diner.  I just realized how hungry I was.