Animal - Revelations Part 10

"No, no, it was my fault," the girl said nervously. Don't trouble yourself," she said and hurried off to give the chess players what was left of the soda.

From the girl's speedy departure, she had no doubt felt the harness under Kahllah's jacket when they collided. The question now was, would Kahllah be able to get in and out with the information she needed before the girl tipped someone off? She had to move quick.

It took a few seconds for Kahllah's eyes to adjust to the poor lighting. The place looked even smaller on the inside as it did the outside. There was only enough room for a small horseshoe bar, a pool table and a few tables and chairs. Normally she would've cased the joint a few days before the job, but this was short notice. The smell of sweat and smoke in the cramped room was so offensive that she had to breathe through her mouth.

The few men who had been sitting on the bar stool immediately turned their attention to Kahllah. Most of them were Panamanian, or of other Hispanic descent, and they all wore hard faces. She could feel them watching her as she crossed the room. Predatory stares and visions of her naked, dancing behind drunken eyes. It was all she could do to keep from breaking the hand of a man who had tried to grab her a.s.s when she pa.s.sed him.

Kahllah took a seat at the end of the bar, closest to the bathroom. It gave her the best view of the entire place. The waitress she'd collided with came back inside. When she saw Kahllah sitting at the bar, she did everything in her power to avoid making eye contact with her. Kahllah watched the waitress, as she went to a table full of tough looking men in the back to take their drink orders. She saw one of them, presumably their leader, grab a fist full of her bottom. The girl made no attempt to move his hand so Kahllah figured it was part of whatever arrangement the girl had with the regulars who frequented the place. The girl spared a glance behind her at Kahllah, but didn't let her eyes linger.

It only took a few seconds for the bartender to approach her, sitting a shot gla.s.s and a beer in front of her. He was a sour looking old man, wearing a dirty tank top under a leather vest.

"I didn't order anything," Kahllah told him.

"I know, those are on the house," he said with a thick accent. "We welcome all new and pretty faces to our establishment this way."

"That's sad, because I was starting to feel like I was special," Kahllah faked disappointment.

"Oh, you're special indeed. Hands down the prettiest woman I've ever seen come through these doors," the bartender poured it on thick. "Sweetheart, your money is no good here. Anything you need, you come to me."

"Funny you should offer, because I'm in need of something . . . information," Kahllah told him.

The bartender frowned. "You want information, I suggest you dial four-one-one."

"Already tried that, and the information I need isn't listed. You seem like an important man about the world and I was thinking maybe you could help me out," Kahllah placed something under a napkin and slid it across the bar to the bartender. His greedy eyes lit up when he saw the folded hundred dollar bills.

The bartender gave a cautious look around before sliding the money into his pocket. "We might be able to help each other out after all. What do you need to know?""I need to know how to find Panama Black."

At the mention of the gangster's name, the bartender's face drained of all its color. He took the money out of his pocket and slid it back to Kahllah. "I'm sorry, afraid I can't help you," when he tried to remove his hand, Kahllah grabbed his wrist and held his hand flat on the bar.

"From the load you probably just took in your pants, I take it you know Panama Black well enough to be afraid of him," Kahllah observed.

The bartender leaned in and whispered to Kahllah. "Listen, little girl, I don't know what your game is, but you need to be mindful of the stakes you're playing for. You do not want to find Panama Black."

The waitress came to the bar to grab two waiting beers for her table. She took one look at the exchange going on between Kahllah and the bartender, and hurried away with the beers. She knew the moment she saw Kahllah walk in that she was trouble and wanted no part of it.

"But indeed I do," Kahllah a.s.sured him. "I'm willing to pay for the information," she produced a small blade from somewhere inside her jacket and placed it over the bartender's pinky finger, "or get to cutting pieces off you until you feel like sharing. It's your call." While Kahllah was waiting for the bartender to make his choice, her eyes drifted to the mirror behind the bar. She saw the men who had been sitting at the table in the back exchange words with the waitress, before getting up and heading in her direction. She could only imagine what the girl had told them, but she didn't have to guess at what they were coming to do.

The leader of their group, the man Kahllah had seen palm the girl's a.s.s, led the group with a purposeful stride. He was a muscular man, wearing a white t-shirt and a bandana on his head that was a replica of the Panamanian flag. As soon as she saw him raise his hand to touch her, she went into action.

Kahllah spun on the barstool, grabbed the leader by the arm, and stabbed him twice in the belly with the blade she'd been threatening the bartender with. His body had barely hit the ground before she sent the blade flaying, stabbing the man closest to him in the throat. Seeing her kill two men in two seconds gave the rest of the men food for thought, and sent them running.

Kahllah turned her attention back to the bartender just in time to see him pulling the slide on the shotgun that had been hidden under the bar. She ducked just as the powerful spray of buckshots sailed over her head. A few stray pellets peppered her neck and shoulder. They didn't do any major damage, but the fragments hurt like h.e.l.l. She wished she'd had the good sense to wear her body armor, but there was no way she would've been able to hide it under the tight jacket.

Before the bartender could get off another round, Kahllah had bounded to the bar and was smashing the heel of her bootie into his chest. The bartender fell into the rack of gla.s.ses and bottles behind him, bringing the whole thing crashing to the ground. He tried to get to his feet, but a kick from Kahllah to the ribs sent him back down. She dragged him up by his hair and slammed his head against the bar twice, before laying his neck on the bar top like a chopping block. From the spine of her harness, she drew a nasty looking short sword and laid the edge of the blade against the bartender's throat.

"You're the third m.u.t.h.af.u.c.ka in almost as many days who didn't know how to answer a simple f.u.c.king question without taking a swing at me or trying to have me killed. One of them is dead and one of them wishes that he was dead. Which side of that coin are you going to fall on?" Kahllah asked him.

"Okay, okay . . . I know Panama Black," the bartender admitted.

"That's obvious to a f.u.c.king duck. Now where can I find him?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him around in a few days," the bartender told her.

Kahllah raised the sword, poised to take his head. "Why don't I believe you?"

"I swear to G.o.d, I'm telling you the truth. Panama used to come in here all the time, but a few days ago he went missing. n.o.body has seen him," the bartender said honestly.

"What about his girlfriend? They say she works in this place. Where can I find her?"

"That's the same thing I want to know," a voice called from the door. Kahllah spun, drawing one of her guns with her free hand, ready to gun down the new threat. To her relief, it was just one of the old men who had been sitting outside playing chess. "That girl was supposed to replace the soda she spilled, but she never came back."

Realization hit Kahllah like a slap in the face. The Spanish girl! She'd no doubt overheard Kahllah asking about Panama Black, and used the thugs in the bar as a distraction while she slipped out, no doubt to warn Panama Black. Kahllah had officially lost the element of surprise. Had she not been so deadset on revenge, she would've made sure she knew what Panama's girlfriend looked like before she came to the bar. Once again she had let her emotions get in the way of her mission. There was nothing she could do about it now, except follow through. She just hoped that Animal and Red Sonja were having better luck than she was dealing with their problem.

EIGHTEEN.

IT HAD BEEN A LONG time since Animal had been inside a club. If he recalled correctly, the last time he had been in one was to do harm to someone, much like that night. As soon as they hit the main floor they split up, with Ashanti mixing in with the crowd, and Abel positioning himself near the hallway where they had come in. Animal pushed a path through the crowd to the bar and leaned with his back to it.

From where Animal was standing, he had a clear view of the second floor, where George was. The VIP area was not as crowded as the main level, but there were enough people to where it took Animal a few minutes to pick George out. George wore a plain white t-shirt, with blue jeans and heavy jewelry. Animal could tell just by the way the light was catching the diamonds in his chain that it had cost a few dollars. He was sitting on the backrest of one of the booths, drinking champagne from the bottle. There were several females at his booth, fawning over him like he was G.o.d's gift, while he smiled and talked s.h.i.t amongst them. George looked more like a rapper than a kingpin's step-kid.

The old man had said George had three guards with him, but Animal could only spot two. They sat on opposite sides of George like bookends. They were both mean looking Hispanic dudes, one with a mustache and the other clean-shaven. Their keen eyes watched everyone who ventured too close to George, ready to go into action at a moment's notice. Not even the females vying for the group's attention could distract them. They were no amateurs, all business and likely to be Animal's biggest obstacles, next to actually gaining entrance to the VIP. Security at the bottom of the stairs was checking everybody for the proper colored wristbands and those who didn't have them were getting turned away. He needed to find a way to get up there.

"Sweetie, if you're not ordering a drink I'm going to need you to clear the bar," a feminine voice said behind Animal. He turned and found himself looking at the bartender. She was a statuesque dark skinned dime, with a head full of expensive weave and a pretty smile. When she saw Animal's face a light of recognition went off in here head. "Is that little Animal?"

Animal was taken back. The girl looked familiar, but he didn't think he knew her. "I think you've got me confused with someone else."

"Knock it off, I'd know you anywhere. You used to live on my block in Brooklyn," she told him, but Animal still didn't make the connection. The girl sighed. "I know it's been a long time, but I couldn't have changed that much. I'm Lizzy, Kastro's home girl."

When she dropped Kastro's name the pieces fell into place. Lizzy was one of the girls who used to hang around the apartment building where Animal was staying. The people in the neighborhood had affectionately nicknamed it h.e.l.l, because it was an unsavory place where you could satisfy all your vices. h.e.l.l was open to any and all misfits who needed a place to stay and were willing to work to earn their keep. Back then Lizzy was just a little girl who used to hang around running errands for Kastro, but she was all grown up now. The last time he'd seen her it had been his sixteenth birthday and she delivered him a gift from Kastro that would change his life.

The day of his sixteenth birthday, Tech had gotten all of the gang together and threw Animal a birthday barbecue on the block. Animal remembered it clearly because it was the first time he'd seen Ashanti after being missing for a couple of years. They were catching up on old times when a late model Honda with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. It was an unfamiliar car, so everyone was instantly on point, ready to pop off at a moment's notice. Surprisingly, a cute dark-skinned girl got out on the pa.s.senger's side and stepped onto the curb. It was Lizzy. She was carrying a large gift bag in her hand and looking over Animal's rag-tag crew like they were something vile. "Anybody know where I can find Animal?"

Silk, who was new to the crew at the time, stepped up. "Nah, but I'm Silk if you're looking for a good time."

Lizzy rolled her eyes at Silk. "Sweetie, I'm strictly d.i.c.kly, and I have a man. I just came to drop something off for Animal from a friend, so either you know where he is or you don't."

"I'm Animal." He stepped forward. As he got closer to Lizzy, he realized he had seen her before. She was one of Kastro's errand girls and the one who had told them about the death of Tango.

Lizzy smiled and held out the bag. "This is from Kastro. She says to tell you 'Happy Birthday.'"

At the mention of Kastro's name, Animal's face lit up. Kastro and a bunch of the others had been arrested a few months prior when the police raided her apartment and killed her brother, Gladiator. Animal hadn't seen or heard from her since she'd been locked up.

"How's she doing?" he asked as he accepted the bag.

"She's doing good, but she's been better. She's still locked up, fighting the case from the raid, but things are looking good for her," Lizzy informed him.

"I'm glad to hear it. I was worried about her," Animal said.

"No need to be. You know Kastro is a survivor," Lizzy replied.

"So what is it?" Animal hoisted the bag.

"I have no idea. She just said to make sure that I gave it to you and to tell you to open the gift when you're somewhere private. I've done my part, so I'm gone," Lizzy started back to the car, but Animal called after her.

"Thank you, and tell Kastro that I love her," Animal said.

Lizzy smiled. "I will. And happy birthday, Animal," she told him before getting back into her car and pulling off.

After Lizzy had gone, Animal, Tech and Ashanti went up to Tech's apartment to open the gift and see what it was. Animal's hands trembled nervously as he tore off the wrapping paper. It was a wooden box with a gold clasp and the words, "For my favorite misfit." were engraved into the top. When Animal opened the box and saw what was inside, his heart was aflutter. They were two Glocks with rose-tinted barrels and rubber grips. It was the first time he had ever held his Pretty b.i.t.c.hes and he fell instantly in love with the custom guns.

"It's been a long time," Animal said.

"Too long," Lizzy agreed. "Last I heard, you were doing like a hundred years in prison."

"Don't go believing everything you hear, ma. I had a spot of legal trouble, but it's all behind me now," Animal said.

"Well, I'm glad the rumors weren't true. Oh, and I'm sorry to hear about Kastro. It broke my heart when I heard she got killed," Lizzy said sincerely.

"Mine too," Animal said, remembering Kastro's murder. She had been trying o help him rescue Gucci when Shai's men got the drop on her. Kastro was a gangster to the end, cutting Angelo's face before he blew her brains out. Animal took her death extremely hard. Kastro was yet another person who had been hurt because of him, and he vowed one day to settle up for her life. Truce or not, Angelo would answer for killing his friend.

"Sorry, I didn't men to be all depressing," Lizzy said, noticing the change on Animal's face.

"It's okay. So, what've you been up to all these years?" Animal changed the subject.

"Working and trying to raise my kids," Lizzy told him.

"Oh, you got kids now? Congratulations."

"Yeah, a boy and a girl," Lizzy pointed to the tattoo of the two young faces on her forearm. "They're my hearts."

"I know what you mean. I have two myself," Animal said, thinking of T.J., Celeste and the reason he was there that night. "Well, I know things are busy in here tonight and I don't wanna keep you. It was good seeing you, Lizzy," he attempted to leave, but she stopped him.

"Wait a minute, Animal. It's rare that I get to see anybody from the old neighborhood since I moved to the Bronx. Before you rush off, at least have a drink with me," Lizzy said.

Lizzy offered without offering. He had to admit that she had filled out quite nicely, but he had a wife and a mission to complete. "Lizzy, I'd love to, but I don't know if I'll still be around when your shift is over. I just stopped through for a minute then I'm getting out of here," he was trying to give her a gentle brush off, but Lizzy was persistent.

"We don't have to wait until my shift is over. I can't drink here on the main floor, but in about fifteen minutes, I'm switching with the bartender in the VIP. They don't much care what we do up there, as long as the register doesn't come up short."

At the mention of the VIP, Animal had an idea. Lizzy might prove to be helpful after all. "Sounds like a plan."

After Lizzy's relief arrived, she lead Animal to the staircase that went up to the VIP. On the way Animal pa.s.sed Ashanti, who was giving him a questioning look. Animal motioned to him to wait, and kept walking with Lizzy. The bouncer at the bottom of the stairs looked like he was going to give them trouble, but he stepped aside and let them up when he found out he was with Lizzy. He mumbled something slick under his breath, but didn't try to stop Animal from going up.

If what was going on in the main area could've been considered a good time, then the VIP was a blast. Liquor was flowing, blunts were being pa.s.sed and there was not a sober soul in the bunch. It was crowded with mostly females, and the few men who had the cake to foot the ticket. Lizzy had explained to Animal that to party upstairs was a five bottle minimum, and the cheapest bottle was five hundred dollars. Animal found this laughable. Even during his moment in the limelight, when he was signed to Big Dawg, Animal never wasted his money the way they did. It was insane to pay five times the normal cost of something just to look good in public.

Being upstairs, Animal was able to get a better scope of the layout. Immediately to his left sat George and his crew. Up close, he was smaller than Animal thought, almost to the point of being pet.i.te. Big stones glistened on nearly every finger of the hand he had wrapped around a bottle of champagne. He was laughing so hard at something someone had said that he spilled champagne on one of the girls closest to him. Her dress was ruined, but she didn't seem to mind. The two bodyguards Animal had spotted earlier were now standing at opposite ends of the booth, giving up their seats to the women entertaining George. Their faces were sour and their eyes were on high alert.

Animal followed Lizzy to the VIP bar, which was smaller than the one downstairs, but less crowded. There were a few people around the bar, waiting for Lizzy so they could fill their drink orders, but for the most part, the waitresses shuttled the drinks back and forth from the bar to patrons, so they didn't have to be bothered.

"Grab a seat and give me two minutes to get situated," Lizzy told Animal, before going behind the bar to take over.

Animal found an empty seat at the end of the bar that allowed him to watch George without having to look directly at him. If Animal had to describe George's personality he'd have said it was big. Animal found himself fascinated by the way people flocked to George. He seemed to have a magnetic personality that was usually reserved for entertainers, or politicians. A part of him wondered what George could've been in life if he'd been born to a different mother and not been a necessary evil in the grand scheme of Animal's life. Didn't much matter anymore what George could've been, all that remained is what he was . . . leverage.

Animal paid special attention to George's two bodyguards. From the distasteful glances they cast at him every time he gave an order, he deduced they didn't care for him very much. From the set of their posture, Animal could tell that the two men were more soldiers than babysitters. Everybody in their group had a drink in their hands or a blunt in their mouths, except the two bodyguards. Occasionally they'd sip from gla.s.ses of ice water, but they didn't touch anything that would impair them. Animal knew the biggest part of his problem would be getting them off point. Dosing George with the sedative and getting him past the guard dogs was clearly out of the question, but it was all Animal had at the moment. His daughter's life depended on George's abduction, so most of Sonja's well-laid plan would have to be improvised on the fly. If he could just get enough separation between them and George, he had a fighter's chance.

While observing George, another player came into the game . . . the third bodyguard. Animal knew this because the other two bodyguards barely gave him a second look when he came over to present several more girls for George to choose from. He exchanged a few words with George, before offering the ladies seats and helping himself to a gla.s.s of vodka. The other two bodyguards gave the third distasteful looks, as he sipped hard liquor and partied with George. Animal had found the weakest link in the chain.

"Here you go," Lizzy got his attention when she placed a gla.s.s on the bar in front of him.

Animal looked at the brown liquid suspiciously.

"It's Hennessy, not poison," Lizzy smiled. "I'm not sure if you still f.u.c.k with it, but I remember how much you liked it when we were younger. I used to hear Kastro all the way on the stoop cursing y'all out about going in her Henny stash."

"It was good then and it's still good now," Animal almost downed the liquor. The burning quickly spread through his limbs, and made him feel more relaxed. He probably shouldn't have had the drink, considering he was technically on the clock, but he didn't want to offend Lizzy, especially since he still might need her before the night was over. The one shout wasn't enough to get him drunk, but the second one she placed down in front of him would no doubt open up the possibility.

Animal took his time with the second shot, nursing it, listening to Lizzy talk about her life, faking interest. While she blabbed on, he watched George and his men. The third bodyguard was far looser than the first, pouring liquor down the thirsty throats of women and having a good time. George didn't seem bothered by him neglecting his responsibilities, but it didn't sit well with the other two bodyguards. They exchanged dirty looks every time the third one touched a bottle or hit a blunt. One of them even tried to say something to him about it, but he waved him off. The other bodyguard reached for his bottle of water and realized it was empty. Animal saw him motion to the empty bottle and say something to the third bodyguard, no doubt sending him for a refill. The third bodyguard said something back that didn't look pleasant, but when George intervened, he wisely closed his mouth and went to do as he was told. When Animal saw him coming towards the bar, the wheels of his mind started spinning.

"It's hot as h.e.l.l in here," the third bodyguard said to no one in particular when he reached the bar. He was sweating like a runaway slave, partially due to the heat and partially due to the liquor he was rapidly consuming.

"Yeah, hot as a sauna," Animal engaged him in conversation. He could tell he was the chatty type, so he cut right into him. "The only good thing about this heat is it's making the ladies come out of their clothes," he nodded to a girl who was on a nearby table, dancing on it wearing nothing but her bra.

The third guard watched her for a few seconds. "She's nice, but we've got all the best ones with us."

"I noticed," Animal glanced over his shoulder at their booth like a star-struck groupie. "If you guys find yourselves with more women than you can handle, I'll be happy to take a few off your hands."

"Sorry, my man. Those are for members only, but you're welcome to whatever stragglers my boss doesn't pick to leave with us tonight," he patted Animal on his back a little too hard for his taste. The man was obviously wasted or well on his way. "Yo shorty," he called to Lizzy, who was behind the bar taking another drink order, "let me get another bottle of Goose."

Lizzy held up one finger for him to give her a second, while she took care of the people ahead of him and he didn't seem to appreciate getting put off.

"Come on with that finger s.h.i.t, we spending too much money in here to be kept waiting," the third bodyguard capped. "Put all that s.h.i.t on my man's tab." He didn't have to be so rude, but he was trying to impress Animal or anyone else who might've been listening. "I swear man, you give these b.i.t.c.hes a little position and they get besides themselves."

"I know how it goes, bro. Chicks ain't dependable for s.h.i.t except a quick nut," Animal fed into it.

"Or a long nut," the third bodyguard gave Animal dap. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something about the wild haired young dude with the gold teeth that he liked.

Lizzy came back over to that side of the bar and slammed a bottle of Grey Goose on the bar, giving the third bodyguard a dirty look.