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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Specter's Gamble - 24. Chapter 24

 

 

Desmond rang the doorbell and impatiently tapped his foot on the welcome mat, waiting for the door to open. It finally did, and Gabriel blinked in surprise when he saw the person behind that door.

“Sam!” he said.

Sam LeVoughn froze when he saw Desmond. Then his eyes shifted to Rayhe, and he finally blinked.

“Gabriel...” he muttered. “What are you...” he looked at Desmond again, as if trying to figure out how in the world these two knew each other. “Do you want some sort of a payment?” he asked finally, staring at the assassin, his eyes huge, voice tight.

“In a manner of speaking,” Desmond hemmed.

Sam’s eyes darkened and his fingers on the door tightened their grip so much that the knuckles turned white.

“Do you have a car, kid?” Desmond asked casually, as if not noticing his reaction. Sam blinked several times.

“A car...?” he repeated in confusion. “Umm... Yeah, I have a car... Why?”

“I might need your help,” the assassin nodded. “Let’s get inside, shall we?”

Sam slowly stepped aside, letting both men to come in. He shut the door, a puzzled frown getting deeper on his forehead.

“You have any beer, kid?” Desmond asked in the same casual voice.

“No,” Sam said quietly. “I don’t drink. I have water.”

“Is it cold?” Desmond opened kitchen window and pulled a chair towards him.

“Yeah,” Sam muttered, his shoulders tense.

“I could use some then,” Desmond nodded and mounted the chair, facing the open window. “You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?” he briefly turned his head and glanced at LeVoughn-Junior who was digging in the fridge.

“I don’t care,” Sam muttered and closed the fridge, two bottles of water in his hands.

He handed one bottle to the assassin, his expression alert, as if he expected Desmond to assault him suddenly. When Desmond took the bottle, Sam offered the second one to Gabriel.

“Thank you,” Rayhe said quietly, taking it from his hands.

“Mmm,” Desmond said with approval after taking several gulps out of the bottle. “This is good...”

Sam didn’t say anything to that; he leaned on the counter and folded his arms in his chest, his eyes dark still.

“All right,” Desmond said finally, blowing a small cloud of blue smoke through his nostrils. “I need you to get to a place on Friday night,” he glanced at Gabriel. “Rayhe will give you the directions. I need you to get there around six in the evening, park behind the house...” he looked at Sam intently. “Behind the house,” he repeated slowly. “Make sure that your car is out of sight and don’t make any noise. Around eight in the evening, I need you to turn the car on. Leave the lights off, however. Sit there until I come out. Make sure you have enough gas,” he looked at Sam again. The kid’s eyes weren’t as dark anymore, but his face was getting more and more confused. “If you run out of gas the minute I get inside the car, I will kill you,” Desmond nodded. “After I am inside, drive away from there as if you were trying to escape from hell,” he took a drag on his cigarette. “I might not need you,” he said after a minute. “In that case, I’ll come out and tell you to go home. Got it?”

“What is this?” Sam frowned and glanced at Rayhe. “Some weird test? Or a joke?”

“Neither,” Gabriel sighed. “It’s a...” he paused. “A gamble,” he finished.

“A gamble,” Sam repeated slowly.

“Yeah,” Rayhe nodded. “Because there is a very big chance this won’t work... Salamander is not easy to fool...”

“Salamander?!” Sam’s eyes widened. “Which one?”

“Julian,” Rayhe said, and frowned when Sam let out a low hiss. “What is it?” he asked.

Sam shook his head.

“Nothing,” he answered shortly. “Give me the directions...” he looked into Desmond’s eyes. “I’ll be there.”

 

****

 

On Friday night, Rayhe felt nauseous. They were almost at the house, the night splashing darkness into the windows of the car as Gabriel drove. His fingers wrapped around the steering wheel so hard that his joints ached.

“After you done with the vial,” Desmond was saying. “Dump it into the garbage disposal... Just in case,” he added, and Rayhe silently nodded. “You are a shitty liar, Rayhe,” Desmond said softly, and Gabriel glanced at him with a small frown. “I don’t know how good of an actor you are... For both of our sakes, I hope you can act well.”

Gabriel bit his lower lip and said nothing. He had no idea how good of an actor he was himself. “We’ll find out,” he thought darkly.

“The kid had better be there,” Desmond muttered, staring into the darkness behind the window.

“He’ll be there,” Gabriel nodded.

“I hate relying on others,” Desmond grimaced. “That’s how even the best plans go to hell...”

Gabriel sighed.

“Sam will be there,” he repeated without taking his eyes off the road.

“We’ll see...” Desmond said absent-mindedly. “After you leave, don’t go home right away... Hang out somewhere, like a tavern. I don’t know if he’ll be watching you for a while just to make sure or not... Sit there for several hours, mope if you have to. Don’t get too drunk though. When everything feels fine, and when you are positive that nobody is watching you, go home.”

Rayhe felt a small smile tickling his mouth. Desmond was referring to his apartment as ‘home.’ Rayhe’s home. Gabriel liked that. He liked that a lot.

©Katya Dee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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It was surprising to see Sam enlisted into the deception, but it makes sense. He and Gabriel are on good terms and he does owe Desmond a favor. The house seems isolated so Desmond wouldn't want to risk walking or using some type of hire car. In the latter case, someone might be inclined to provide information. With Sam, they wouldn't have that concern.

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