Specter's Gamble - 23. Chapter 23

Three days ago

“It’s a miracle,” Desmond said as seriously as before. “Let’s go eat something, I am hungry.”

They went outside, and Rayhe felt as if he had a lead bar in his left pocket; that vial was getting heavier and heavier with every step that he took. They went to a small café on the side of the road, and Gabriel forced himself to eat something. Later, he couldn’t even remember what it was that he ate. He kept up the mindless chatter, answering Desmond’s questions, throwing jokes and mocking insults back and forth between them. By the time they finished eating, Rayhe felt worse than ever.

“Ate too much?” Desmond asked him on the way back, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“Why?” Gabriel stopped himself from flinching just in time.

“You are quiet all of a sudden,” the assassin shrugged, his eyes still narrowed.

“I guess,” Rayhe sighed. “Those mushrooms didn’t agree with me.”

“Ah,” Desmond nodded and stopped talking until they finally got back to the apartment.

Several hours later, Gabriel couldn’t take this anymore. “Screw it,” he thought desperately. “I can’t... I just can’t...”

He went into the living room where Desmond was watching TV, mindlessly flipping through the channels. Rayhe walked closer to the couch, sat down, and took the remote control out of the assassin’s hand. He turned off the TV and put the remote away. Desmond looked at him silently, his expression slightly curious. Gabriel pulled him closer without saying anything and buried his face in his hair. Desmond slowly wrapped his arms around Rayhe’s neck. He didn’t say anything either. They sat in silence for several minutes, and then Gabriel muttered into the assassin’s hair:

“I am sorry... I lied to you... About the house...”

He was startled when Desmond replied calmly:

“I know.”

Rayhe straightened up and looked at him, his eyes wide. Desmond shrugged, his arms still around Gabriel’s neck.

“When you came back, you looked lost,” he said with a small smile. “Also on the way back from the café, you said that the mushrooms didn’t agree with you...”

“So?” Rayhe frowned. “Is that a sign of lying number one? Mushroom indigestion?”

“You didn’t order any mushrooms,” Desmond said and Rayhe just blinked at that. “What happened?”

Gabriel took a deep breath and told him the entire story. When he finished talking, Desmond’s arms slowly slid off his neck, and Rayhe hated the feeling. The assassin sat in silence for several minutes, his expression solemn, arms folded in his chest.

“Why did you tell me?” he asked finally.

“Do you even have to ask?” Rayhe said quietly. “If you knew that I was lying, what were you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Desmond shrugged. “I would probably leave if not tonight, then tomorrow night for sure,” he turned his head and looked at Gabriel, a small smile playing on his lips. “My self-preservation is still present in spite of what Salamander might think.”

Gabriel closed his eyes for several seconds.

“You need to leave,” he said finally and opened his eyes. “I mean, if you leave, you’ll simply disappear; they won’t find you. You have to leave.”

Now Desmond’s expression was a little bit more curious than a while ago.

“If I leave,” he said slowly. “You’ll end up in some very deep shit, Rayhe, and you know it.”

Gabriel shrugged almost indifferently.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said. “And if not...” he shrugged again. “It won’t last forever, right?” he grinned.

Desmond cocked his head slightly to the left, his curiosity slowly trading places with thoughtfulness.

“Huh,” he said finally, and Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

“What?” he asked.

“I am not going to leave,” Desmond said calmly.

“Des, you...”

“I am not leaving,” the assassin interrupted Rayhe. “Deal with it. I am, however, going to finish this thing once and for all...”

“You gonna kill him?” Gabriel frowned. “That would be...”

“No,” Desmond leaned on the back of the couch. “Killing him would only create yet another problem... Right now, you have a very good shot at getting your clean slate; if I take Julian out, then it will never happen, since he is the only one in his entire family who is willing to give it to you. He is also the only one who is able to make it happen. Therefore, killing him is out of the question...”

“Then what?” Rayhe asked after Desmond just sat there, frowning thoughtfully, his fingers tapping a fast, mindless rhythm on the couch cushion.

“Give me the vial,” the assassin said finally.

Gabriel handed him the small container.

“If you open it, he’ll know...” he said, and Desmond shot him a dark look.

“You think?” he muttered with a crooked smile.

The vial was made out of glass; the top of it, however, was plastic. The plastic part was sealed tightly, secured to the glass. It seemed like it would break off easily, however, when the time came to use the liquid inside the container.

“Why is the top plastic?” Rayhe asked when Desmond got off the couch.

“Breaks easier,” the assassin answered absent-mindedly. “Also, there is no danger of cutting yourself on the glass.”

“I see...” Gabriel muttered. “What are you looking for?” he asked after a few minutes, watching Desmond dig in the drawers of the big desk that was sitting in the corner.

The assassin just muttered something unintelligible and kept digging through the drawers.

“What was the name of the mark you told me about?” Rayhe asked suddenly, and Desmond looked at him. “The one with the scars?”

“Yeah,” Desmond said indifferently. “Vivienne; it was the same Julian after all...”

“At least he doesn’t know that you slept with her...” Rayhe said thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” Desmond said again and straightened up finally. “I knew it was here somewhere...” he muttered with satisfaction.

He held a syringe in his hand. Rayhe watched him with interest when Desmond took the vial and walked to the window. He critically studied the plastic top of the vial, turning the small container back and forth in the sunlight. Finally, he pulled off the plastic tube that was covering the needle of the syringe with his teeth, and very carefully inserted the needle between two plastic ridges on the top of the vial. He bit his lip while slowly making all the liquid to flow into the syringe. Finally, the small container was empty and Desmond emptied the syringe into the flowerpot that has been sitting on the windowsill. The plant in that pot was completely and hopelessly dead.

“If this doesn’t make it grow, then I don’t know what will...” Desmond muttered, and Gabriel let out weak laughter.

The assassin caught the last drop that was dancing on the tip of the syringe with his finger, and carefully tasted it.

“Thought so,” he muttered after a few seconds, and spat into the same flowerpot.

“What is it?” Rayhe sounded genuinely curious.

“This shit doesn’t knock you out,” Desmond said and walked into the kitchen. “It incapacitates you,” he called from the kitchen, and a second later, Gabriel heard the water running. It stopped after a minute or so, and Desmond came back into the living room. “You can’t move but you feel everything,” he finished.

“The same drug they gave me?” Rayhe frowned.

“No,” the assassin repeated the whole ordeal with the syringe and the vial. This time he filled the vial with water. “That one knocks you out for a few hours... This one doesn’t. It doesn’t heighten your sensations either. It just incapacitates you.”

“There might be some traces left in there still,” Rayhe frowned slightly after Desmond handed him the vial.

“I know,” the assassin nodded. “I don’t want to tamper with it any more though... Whatever is left in there is not enough to affect me much anyway.”

“So, I take it, you have a plan?” Rayhe said after Desmond lit a cigarette.

“I guess...” the assassin said slowly. “This whole thing could be played out in two ways. Scenario A is Salamander kicking you out of the house after you do your part, and having his way with me. I know that he told you he’s not gonna make me suffer, but I have trust issues. Especially, when it comes to the Salamander family, call me crazy,” he shrugged. “Scenario B is him doing something to the house, like setting it on fire.”

“There also could be a scenario C,” Gabriel frowned. “He might wait for us at the house and ambush you or something like that...”

“No,” Desmond shook his head immediately. “He won’t. He wants you to drug me; he wants me to know that you are the one who sold me out.”

“Why?” Rayhe asked.

“Because he wants me to taste the betrayal,” Desmond answered with a serene smile. “Betrayal sometimes feels worse than physical pain.”

“Right...” Gabriel muttered, unable to look into the assassin’s green eyes. He almost did betray him, he thought. He considered the deal and accepted it; never mind the fact that he couldn’t go through with it later. He accepted it.

“Therefore,” Desmond continued as if not noticing Rayhe’s guilty look. “We need two different strategies. If it turns out to be a scenario A, then I won’t have any choice but kill him, a clean slate or not. In case if he is not alone...” he lit another cigarette. “You might need to get inside that house because things might get hairy.”

Rayhe nodded silently.

“If it’s a scenario B, however...” Desmond thought for several minutes. “You’ll need to go to that house tonight; make sure that the back door is unlocked. I don’t want it to be locked from the outside on Friday. I am pretty positive that he is going to set up a camera or two inside the house, to make sure that you do everything he said and not tip me off. I mean, that’s what I would do,” he shrugged. “So when we get there on Friday night, act well. Whatever you do,” he looked at Rayhe seriously. “Do not pull on your hair.”

“Right,” Gabriel was finally able to look into Desmond’s eyes. “If he is indeed going to set the house on fire, you might not have enough time to get far away from it... I mean, to get far enough. You might end up getting burned. And I won’t be able to get you.”

Desmond chewed on his lower lip for a minute.

“I might have a solution for that,” he said finally. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“We are going to visit someone,” Desmond said with a small smile.

“Des...” Gabriel said quietly when they were by the front door.

The assassin turned his head and looked at him with a silent question.

“Des, I...”

“Forget about it,” Desmond interrupted him when Rayhe’s eyes became almost haunted. “You had your reasons... Plus,” he shrugged. “You told me. That makes the whole thing somewhat all right.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Rayhe said in the same quiet voice. “It doesn’t. I...”

“I said, forget it,” Desmond interrupted him again.

He looked at Gabriel for several seconds, and when Rayhe’s expression remained miserable and guilty, he rolled his eyes, grabbed the other man’s collar, and pulled him towards himself. Gabriel shivered when Desmond’s mouth assaulted his. He wrapped both arms around the assassin and kissed him back hungrily.

“Did this make it better?” Desmond asked a minute later after he pulled away, breathless.

“Yeah,” Rayhe nodded, a relieved smile stretching his mouth. “A hell of a lot...”

“Good,” Desmond nodded. “Let’s go.”