The Shack: An Implacable Man

I still wasn't sure just what had happened. He wouldn't talk about it, but at the end of that "particularly bad day," two heroin dealers were dead, four houses had burned to the ground and a mint condition 1969 Jaguar XK-E with 20 keys of heroin in the trunk was sitting in the bottom of a swimming pool. Emmett had two bullets lodged in his chest, a kitchen knife tip broken off in his shoulder blade, a broken leg from being run over by an orange 1974 Volkswagen Thing, and an infected Pomeranian bite.

Emmett took a low ball-price on the wrecker from me and moved to Florida to be a babysitter for his grandchildren. He took his brand new girlfriend, a woman named Amelie who was just as quiet about how they met as he was.

And their Pomeranian named "Skittles."

*****

"Slowly, work it forward just a bit more."

Delaney followed the instructions carefully, edging the wrecker a bit more forward until I signaled for her to stop. She leaned out the window with a concerned look at our handiwork. "Will we have room to get around it?"

"Yeah, a couple feet to spare." I unhooked the canvas straps and threw them onto the back of the Ford F550, then slid up into the driver's seat as Delaney hopped back over to her seat, shoved it into gear and pushed on up the mountain road.

Delaney peered down the mountainside out her window. "You can almost see forever from up here."

"Maybe that's part of the problem. People like him get used to living on mountain tops. They start seeing everybody else as beneath them."

She nodded and sat silently until we reached the security gate. The wrecker nosed the gate open with little effort and surprisingly little noise; it was unlocked, unlike the one at the base of the mountain. I'd chained that one shut to discourage any accidental bystanders to this. A long looping circle drive through the grounds went right in front of the massive construction-site of what would obviously become a massive mansion.

Acres of unfinished fountains, stone pathways, and other, less-recognizable, structures were everywhere. Six guys were sitting at a stone table, drinking and eating something. They watched us disinterestedly, and maybe with a little disdain. They were used to the occasional work or delivery truck. I was pretty sure Jason Calloway had never seen a repo truck before. From their lack of reaction, none of his goons was particularly interested in us. You get what you pay for sometimes.

"Wow." Delaney peered around. "He must think he's Louis the Fourteenth."

"You're actually learning that stuff?"

"There's a TV series about it."

Delaney scanned the grounds wide-eyed, finally settling on a blue spacecraft of a car parked in the middle of it all. "Oooh. That looks really fucking breakable."

"It does, doesn't it?" Her grin mirrored my own as I backed the wrecker up to the car and popped the door open. "Stay inside until I tell you. Seriously, if he sees you, he'll know."

I dropped to the ground and began walking around the hypercar, inspecting it carefully until one of the men ran up to me. "Get the fuck away from the car, asshole. Drop off whatever it is you're here to drop off and get moving."

"Hey, I'm just doing my job. Got an order from the owner, a Mr. Calloway, to pick this thing up. I don't want to damage it."

He stared at me for a minute then ran back to the group and started talking earnestly with a big blond guy who looked like he was trying to be cool. Jason Calloway walked over arrogantly, glaring at me. "Hey, dipshit. I didn't tell anyone to pick my car up."

"Wait, I have a signed order here." I reached inside my jacket, pulling my 1911 out and leveling it at his head. "Tell your little fuckbuddy to go get the rest of his Gold Shield friends and start running for the far side of your little palace grounds here, or I start putting some big fucking holes in you. Do it now. Three. Two..."

He hesitated, then nodded to his guy and we watched while they scampered off. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just some insurance so we can talk. You really ought to hire some competent bodyguards." I waved my free hand and Delaney backed the wrecker up to the ass end of his car, sliding the stinger into position.

Calloway grimaced at the sound of the jaws snapping into position. "I will fucking ruin you. You really need to..."

"Shut the fuck up. We haven't started anything yet. You do the right fucking thing and we'll hardly fuck up your little toy at all."

He looked at me in disbelief as the stinger raised, lifting the end of the car up. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm just the driver of the tow truck, but I do have somebody who wants to talk with you." I signaled to Delaney to come out.

He looked at her, frozen. He obviously knew who she was, instantly, but I think he was hoping that we were some kind of illusion.

"Delaney, this is Jason Bradley Calloway, Esquire."

Delaney looked up at me, pointedly ignoring him. "What does 'esquire' mean, anyway?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure, remind me and we'll look it up. I think it's probably Latin or Greek for 'asshole.' Every 'esquire' I've ever met has been one. Or they've been lawyers, which is kinda the same thing most times."

He started to say something, but Delaney cut in. "That figures. Is this what I think it is?"

"A Bugatti Chiron. They're something like two or three million dollars apiece. Tops out at over two hundred sixty miles per hour."

"Looks like a spaceship from some cheesy afternoon sci-fi movie."

"Shit, I thought it looked cool until you said that, now I want to paint 'Mars Needs Women' on the side."

She nodded. "Do ya think he's compensating for something? Jesus Christ, it's a three-million dollar, two hundred sixty mile an hour supercar. He must be fuckin' microscopic."

I shrugged and looked at him. "She's got a point."

She walked slowly around the car tapping it with a screwdriver, making Calloway wince with each sharp sound. "What's this made of?"

"Carbon fiber. Makes it hard to damage. It's supposed to have an incredible stiffness rating."

"See? Compensating." Delaney snickered at her own terrible Shrek imitation then walked to the back of the truck, pulled a safety chain and began dragging it under the car.

"What the fuck are you doing?" His anger was starting to overcome his fear.

"What a coincidence, that's the same fucking question we have for you. Why are your 'bodyguards' trying to kill Delaney?"

He paused, trying to decide whether to deny it. Delaney's dismissal of his prized car had him boiling, and arrogance won out. "I'm not going to have some fucking retard getting any of the family money. It's mine and I plan to keep it that way. She's a mistake. I'm not dealing with a fucking paternity suit."

"I'm not interested in your fucking money, shithead." Delaney grimaced at him, half under the rear of the car. There was a harsh 'clank' as she slapped the hook into place on something. Calloway winced again. She rolled out and stood up, snagging the external lift control. "I don't want anything to do with you or your money. You aren't shit to me. Needles is my dad." She looked at me softly for a second, then glared at him and punched the lift button, raising the back of the car higher until there was an odd grating sound from the front as the chin spoiler hit the gravel. "Asshole."

He started at the sound but was wary enough of the gun in my hand to stay still.

I waved him back. "Here's the fucking deal. We'll drop your fucking rocket ship at the gate, you stay absolutely still until we do, or it goes on a goddamn sleigh ride behind the wrecker. You may not have noticed, but she just snapped a safety chain on, but she didn't put on the wheel straps. It'd be like a beer can behind a honeymoon car."

Delaney studied the car for a moment. "We really shouldn't be towing this backwards, it's bad for it, right?"

"It's all-wheel drive; there's no good way to tow it without pulling it up on a rollback. If there's any damage, the asshole here can pay for it out of his fucking trust fund, or whatever."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but I waved him off. "Shut it. Stein is dead, so don't expect any more help from him. And don't try to kill Charlotte again. I don't need the hassle of everyone assuming I did it."

Delaney tilted her head at me. "You have kinda earned that though." She looked over at Calloway. "Really, he'd be my first suspect. He's got some serious anger issues when it comes to her."

I sighed. "Fair enough. But I don't wanna be fucking blamed if I didn't get to pull the trigger."

Calloway looked back and forth between us, clearly lost, but I wasn't in the mood to explain it to him. Delaney hopped back in the cab with a final glare at him.

I looked at him. "This is the only warning you get. Leave us the fuck alone. You come after us now or ten years from now, you're done. If you come tearing down this mountain after us before I call you on your cell phone, you will die. You got it?"

He gave a half-ass nod, eyes glittering with hate.

I gritted my teeth. "The only reason I'm warning you is because I'm trying to set a better example for the kid."

Delaney leaned out the window, rolled her eyes and gave a snort of a laugh. Calloway's face reddened in rage.

Well, fuck. I tried.

Once we started to pull away, I could hear the locked tires chirping as they stuttered across the pavement. He began to move until I revved the engine and gave his precious car a good jolt, while Delaney flipped him the bird out her window. He froze, watching as we reached the gate and Delaney hopped out and ran back to unhook the chain.

She climbed back in and looked at me. "Done."

"You ready for this?"

She nodded. "I know his kind, they hovered around mother and... Chuck... all the time. They think they're the only ones who matter. It's him or me." I revved the engine, and hit the emergency release on the tire jaws, dropping the two-ton car to the ground.

I could see Calloway and his posse sprinting for a black SUV on the other end of the compound as I ran through the gears. We really needed to reach our goal before they caught up.

It took longer than I thought, and I was beginning to wonder if we'd misjudged him when I heard the burbling roar of the supercar. The pause had been to let him get into his car and take the lead. He must have used the launch button, not a great option for the winding mountain road, but he had to be pissed beyond belief, with us humiliating him in front of his paid sycophants. In any case, he had mostly straight stretches until he reached us and that car's handling was absolutely top of the line, even at high speeds. Just what he planned to do when he caught up to us, I had no idea, his two-ton car could hardly force the wrecker off the road. He just might have had a plan, and I had no intention of finding out what it was.

As I started to slide around the boulder we'd pulled out into the road, I reached for the big yellow smiley face button on the dash.

Emmett Tuckett hadn't just been a repo man. He'd been an ardent hater of what he'd always called "Tree Huggers and Hippies." He'd modified his truck to "Roll Coal," to inject extra diesel fuel to create massive clouds of dense black smoke when he passed a Prius or anything else he deemed a target. I'd never quite gotten around to taking it out, even though it was technically illegal.

Delaney's hand slammed down on the button before I could reach it. I glanced at her. Her face was stark, her jaw set and she held the button down with grim white-knuckle finality. "Fuck him."

Dark smoke boiled out of the stacks, billowing back up the road behind us as the rippling snarl of the Bugatti grew louder. The pitch-black flume crawled up the road, pushed by the slightest of mountain breezes.

Delaney looked steadily down the road, I could she was counting under her breath. "Three, two..."

The clash of the collision behind us was odd: tremendously loud, but with none of the metallic clamor of a normal crash.

The Chiron spun past us, flying through the air like a massive blue frisbee. We both watched as it flew out over the valley.

Delaney blinked once. "Wow, That held together better than I thought it would."

I slowed and we watched it until it slammed into the boulder-strewn valley floor 800 feet below.

"Yeah, I'm sure that will buff right the fuck out."

Delaney blinked again and looked into the mirror on her side. "Do you think his bodyguards will see..."

She was cut off by the clamor of a second crash. The black SUV, far slower and far less aerodynamic, tumbled down the mountainside, flying apart like one of those weird self-destructive sculptures.

"Nope."

We drove another thirty minutes while Delaney just stared straight forward.

"You okay?"

She nodded once, taking a deep breath. "Him or me. I've been lucky, real lucky. You've been there for me, but someday it'll be just me..." She choked a little and I could see her eyes welling with tears, but she fought it down. "I could pretend, but I think... maybe, this is just the way my life is going to be." Delaney gave me a wan smile. "You know that don't you? That's why you sent me down to Texas."

There was no point in lying about it. "I think it will be this way for a while at least."

She nodded. "Yeah, I saw his face when you told him to stop trying to kill mother."

"He had no fucking clue. And he didn't know what I was talking about when I mentioned Stein, either."

Delaney let a long breath out. "Shit."

*****

Sheree sighed as we finished our tale. 'So there's more?"

I nodded. "I'm pretty sure Junior wasn't involved in the attack on Charlotte."

Tara sat back. I'd had Delaney call her to meet us at the cabin. She looked thoughtful. "Burns is gay, so he's out. Franks has been the subject of twelve paternity suits in the last eighteen years. He's in one now. He'd sleep with a crocodile if it held still long enough."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, he slept with Charli; a crocodile would be a step up."

Tara tried to give me a sour look, but she was pretty used to my attitude about Charlotte at this point. "So did you."

Delaney snickered.

"Behave, Les." Sheree gave me a half-ass glare but spoiled it with a slight smile.

"I'm reformed. I traded way up."

Delaney nodded in agreement, and even Tara had to shrug. Sheree's smile blossomed further.

Tara shook her head in amusement and continued. "Either way, this is nothing new for Franks, he'd just add it to the stack. He probably paid up, because he did the math and it wasn't worth arguing about. Whatever you think of... Charlotte, she thought it through and kept the money low enough to make it easier to pay than argue. I guess we know why Calloway went after Delaney, but honestly, to these guys, this is barely pocket change."

"It isn't Sharpton." Sheree leaned forward. "He's on the same high-end health insurance program as everyone in the firm."

"What does that mean?" Tara asked the same thing I was thinking.

"I asked some of my friends. A lot of my best friends are nurses." She said it fondly. "Sharpton had a vasectomy after his fourth son was born, a long time ago."

Tara sorted through a stack of paperwork and pulled a page out. "Nice to know everyone is following the HIPPA act. Still, that's probably why he never paid. He knows Delaney can't be his."

"That's all of them then. Calloway, Franks, and Sharpton. I tried not to sound as annoyed as I was.

Tara nodded looking over her papers. "There were... a number of others... but none with enough influence on the judge."

"Except..." Sheree looked up. "There's another Calloway."

"Why would he even be involved? He can't be her father, even Charlotte said that. She didn't even ask him for money."

"I don't know. But he's the only one left, right?"

Delaney huffed, frustrated. "Why is anyone doing this? Nobody actually knows shit. Junior tried to kill me just because there was a chance I might get some of his money. But he didn't really know anything."

"You said Calloway junior owns—owned—that whole mountain and the valley. Do you think anyone knows about the wreck?" Sheree stared out the window thoughtfully.

"We can check. Why?"

"Because Delaney's right. Nobody really knows 'shit.' I'd think it's about time we fixed that."

*****

"Here it is; it's a rush job, but it's accurate."

Sheree took the package from 'Jasmine,' then slid it over to Tara without looking away from her friend. "I owe you one."

The serious looking nurse shook her head. "We both know who owes who, Sheree. I'll never be able to really pay you back."

Sheree looked down at the table. "You don't owe me anything, Sarah. I just tried to do the right thing."

There was a wordless exchange between them, something dark and heavy. Delaney caught it and looked at me. I shook my head at her. I didn't keep secrets from Sheree, and Sheree didn't keep them from me, but this obviously wasn't just her secret to keep. I knew she'd tell me if I needed to know.

Tara ignored the whole exchange as she looked over the papers. Lawyers probably get real good at not seeing things. "Couldn't use it in court, but we don't need it to. I'm going to Tiffany's, and we're going to have a serious talk with Mother about this. She's staying with Tiffany until she can get around on her own. Probably won't be very long, Tiffany isn't exactly happy with her. Can you give me a day or two?"

"Junior is dead, Stein and his men are dead. We probably have a few days. I've put some 1-inch boiler plate inside the wrecker doors, seat backs and floor boards, just in case anyone tries to get clever."

We'd gotten what we needed when we visited the crash site. No bystanders or police had seen it, so we just had to pick through the wreckage. The Chiron really had held together better than anyone could have expected, at least the frame had, but Calloway hadn't held together very well, at all.

I figured out his plan to stop us, though; he had a bright shiny Steyr AUG submachine gun with two full magazines of black-tipped M995 armor piercing rounds. He wasn't planning on forcing us off the road, he was simply going to riddle us. There were more of the AUGs in the torn metal of the SUV. All new, and, I suspected, all bought with the intention of killing Delaney.

We'd quietly left the wreck. It was entirely invisible from the road, so I figured we'd have time.

*****

We stepped out of the brass and teak elevator and just strode past the extremely efficient looking secretary to the ridiculously expensive office. We ignored her protests and she followed us on in, berating us in as professional a manner as possible. The room was enormous and lined with bookcases full of leather-bound law volumes. It was dominated by a massive teak desk. The man at the desk waved his nearly panicked secretary back.

"Everything is okay, Maureen. I've been expecting them. Please close the door and see that we are not disturbed."

The old man stared at me with grim humor. "Good afternoon, Mister Dawes. I did tell Mr. Stein and his partner not to underestimate you. They didn't understand, of course. They've seen too many movies; they think Special Forces is just about being tough."

I nodded. "I do seem to remember a helluva lot of physical training."

"But that's not what really works, is it? Willpower, of course, but adaptability and brainpower is where most of the cuts get made in the selection process."

Delaney crossed her arms impatiently. "Why the fuck are you trying to kill me?"

He looked at her disapprovingly; clearly, attempted murder didn't warrant rudeness and poor language. "Darwin, Miss Dawes. Darwin. I'd think Mister Dawes would understand; it's about natural selection. Survival of the fittest. I don't need you dragging my son down in some dramatic court battle over paternity. Whether you're his unintended offspring or not. He's fit, he's smart, and I intend for him to reach great heights. You simply aren't worthy of my name."