“Gabriella,” she said. She shivered after the admission.
“It’s okay, Gabby,” said Renaldo softly.
“Thank you… Gabby,” said Phoenix.
“Only I can call her that!” said Renaldo. The fury vibrated in his voice.
Phoenix turned to Reggie and Cinch. He had no further need for them and they were now simply in the way. “A good find, Reggie. You made your mark today.”
“Thank you, sir. No problem, sir.”
“Take 300 for you and Cinch for the find. See Murphy.”
“Yes, thank you sir!”
Distracted, Phoenix continued to stare at the children. He had expected both men to leave immediately, but Reggie lingered.
“Um, sir? There’s a few things you should know about—” said Reggie.
“Dismissed!”
“Yes, sir.”
Reggie left quickly with Cinch to attend to other matters. Walking past Larry, he whispered a clear warning that the children were dangerous. On the other hand, Reggie was relieved at the immediate dismissal, and by the fact that he didn’t have to report that three of his men were killed taking these two youngsters into captivity. Had he been allowed, he would’ve informed Phoenix that the two children took their squad by surprise when they’d entered the Midas shop. The girl made quick use of a nine-inch blade that sliced Krug into bits while her brother took Crisco and Stringman down in less than ten seconds with a shotgun before his men returned fire and subdued. It was only by sheer, brute force and the confinement within the Midas stock room that enabled the remainder of his team to take them down in capture. Seeing the two children move during the brutal takedown, it was obvious they were trained to fight from an early age; the efforts not to bruise or damage either one made the capture especially challenging. Larry Reed nodded, but was intent on listening to Luke on the radio in order to update Phoenix. When Luke’s update was complete, Larry demanded Phoenix’s attention.
“Luke says we got an enemy team of military men up ahead.”
Breaking Phoenix’s reverie, Larry kept a wary eye on the children, gauging their propensity for danger based on Reggie’s comment. But feeling pressed for time, he pushed for full attention.
“Phoenix? They’re ’bout 400 clicks out past Luke on Brownsville Road.”
“Take care of it, uncle. Can’t you see I’m busy?” Phoenix smiled, exposing his perfect white teeth, continuing to gaze at both children. Eventually, the girl began to shake under his gaze. Seeing this, her brother hopped closer in his bindings to stand in front of her, blocking further view.
“A brave boy, are you, Renaldo?” asked Phoenix. He was met with a surprisingly chilling stare and a verbal spat of profanity.
“Vai se Foder.”
“Intriguing. Was that Spanish? Portuguese? Italian?”
Larry stepped into Phoenix’s line of sight, persistent. He blocked the view toward the children completely.
“What do you want to do? We going after these guys now? Do we wait until they hole up and have Luke slip in on ’em? Or what?”
“Larry—”
“We don’t have time for your indulgence, right now, Phoenix—”
“I’ll make time!”
Taking a huge risk and fearful of the outcome, Larry pushed on. “Nephew, I gotta say… the men… they’re talkin’ some.”
Angry, Phoenix confronted Larry with a face full of passion. A lust for release was evident, but he did manage to regain his cold, unemotional perspective after a few seconds. “What they sayin’?”
“Bunch of crap… but there’s some talk that everybody’s taking pot shots at us and you’re doing nothing.”
“That it?”
“Um, no, that you’re acting…”
Larry sensed a fury building in Phoenix that might not be able to be controlled. He hesitated.
“Go on, acting like what?”
“Well, like a spoiled kid, they say, distracted, unstrung, not leading us anywhere but to certain death.”
“I want names. All of them.”
The cold demand sent a shiver up Larry’s spine. He refused to let it take hold. “No.”
“No?”
“Because, at a certain level, they’re right. You’re acting… unhinged.”
As expected, Phoenix snatched the Taurus Judge from his belt. The sound of the trigger cocking was heard above Luke’s voice on the radio demanding an immediate response. The gun was placed up to Larry’s forehead. Resigned, he simply smiled.
“Shoot me now, Phoenix. Go ahead. I fuckin’ dare you—”
“Uncle…” Phoenix trembled in anger. Larry, on the other hand, ceased to fear, taking a final step to stand face to face with his nephew. Knowing his life was either over or not, depending on how he’d gauged the depth of his relationship with his nephew, he pressed on. Despite the fury radiating from Phoenix, Larry smiled and placed a gentle hand on his nephew’s shoulder. He had done this same gesture many times in their prior life, when times were easier. He knew he was taking a risk in doing so at the moment.
“You’ll listen to reason just this once, dammit.” Larry’s voice was soft, but persistent.
Phoenix lowered his weapon, letting his anger ebb. Studying Larry’s face, he saw the concern and care evident. Calming further, he glanced at the gun in his hand. He uncocked and placed the gun at his belt and said nothing, waiting for Larry’s next words.
“You ready to lead the men again, Phoenix? Can you do what you do best?”
Phoenix smiled, feeling a persistent and foolhardy anger seep away at the request. Self-analyzing his recent behavior, he saw his actions from the perspective of his men. Intuitively, he knew there was some truth to their statements. Embarrassed, he realized that he’d recently lost that firm element of control, so necessary in commanding men. He recognized that his poor choices had made the men suffer on his behalf. He would not do so again.
“Say something. Quit thinkin’,” suggested Larry. He sensed that he was not out of the woods yet and pushed for a response.
Phoenix nodded, touching the Taurus in his belt. Reviewing the impact of his recent behavior, he gained some modicum of control. He laughed. “I hear you, Larry.” There was a release in Phoenix’s laughter that spoke of reaching an understanding.
“Good. I’m glad—What the hell?” said Larry. He was pushed hard into Phoenix.
“What the fuck, uncle!” said Phoenix, furious and stumbling back a step.
The Beretta was snatched from Larry’s holster and the weapon cocked. Larry tracked the quick shift of the gun in his direction. Collapsing to the ground with his left thigh exploding in pain, he stared at the little girl sitting on the ground not far away, hurriedly slipping out of her leg bindings. Eyes squinted in pain, he saw her stand and start to make her way to the safety of the white pickup nearby.
Writhing in pain, he heard the gun fired four more times only to see Sinclair and Titmouse who were rushing from the truck twenty feet away, drop hard to the ground. They had reacted to the events slower than they should have. Sin was raising his shotgun when he was hit by one bullet center mass with the other passing through his left eye and cheekbone. Titmouse had reached for the gun strapped to his thigh holster when a well-placed shot, center mass in his body armor, stood him straight up in time for the second bullet striking his forehead. Renaldo turned and pointed the Beretta at Phoenix.
“Lead man. Phoenix, you monte de merda! I shoot you die.”
Stunned, Phoenix reached for his gun until Renaldo fired. The bullet streamed right past his left ear. Always sharp in his assessment of men, Phoenix recognized the shot was a purposeful miss, made only to show intent.
“You’re in deep shit, boy.” Phoenix growled.
“To the truck. Now.”