Chapter Nineteen

“You know Marv, it’s the little things in life that really make it worth living.”

Marv barely heard Dolph from the shower, but loudly affirmed the observation, making sure his response was clearer than the statement. They were in one of the “Clouds”, the penthouse-range suites with amenities for the more luxurious and decadent patron. Given the need to rebuild in Missoula, Dolph had looked into upgrading some of the features, which naturally lead him to rolling those changes out elsewhere in his domain. The first batch of fixtures was being installed there in Somerset while Missoula waited for construction to reach that point.

The Eihermann Euro-Flo shower head, while less expensive than some of the better marketed brands getting their spreads in Metropolitan Home or Architectural Digest, had just as wide a range of settings and speeds. Dolph changed the spray from the large pulse burst (a favorite of the females) to the full head flow, and was entranced by the 68 individual precision micro-heads that formed the ring of slender streams hitting him in the chest with hot water. One stream in the cluster was misfiring, sending a jet of water across the center and through the perfectly precise pattern. It corrected momentarily and then skewed. The beam of water poured from the opening flatly, adding some additional water to the adjacent stream, and when emitting enough, made the single, defiant arc.

It was fascinating to Dolph, watching the nozzle with it’s flaw, the symmetry ruined by the misbehaving stream. Perhaps the machinist’s lathe had started up around that point, not fully widening the space for the correct pressure to build because it wasn’t completely engaged. Or the water had some impurity, building up the smallest of mineral clusters in the exact spot that would cause the jet to come out different from the engineered design. Dolph was also keenly aware of the small details, the minutiae and slight deviation that, if not recognized would subtly cause a thing to be wrong. Like making calculations in feet and not meters as the Martian Lander programmers discovered trying to land their probe. Or Napoleon campaigning in the Russian winter. Being detail-oriented and detail-appreciative were difficult partners as over-scrutinizing one could ruin the other. Dolph turned off the shower and stood in the glass enclosure for a few moments in the evaporating steam vapor.

“Marv, make a note that this shower fixture is a little faulty and have a maintenance crew swap it out after housekeeping comes through.”

Stepping out of the shower, Dolph wrapped himself in the Egyptian linens that guests were given, patting himself dry enough to benefit from the arc of air jets that whisked any excess moisture off with warm gusts. As Dolph admired his nude physique in the mirror, Marv keyed orders into his mobile device. For his age, Dolph was in very good shape, but was nursing a sore wrist and hand from punching Harry. He slipped on his track suit and gave the tender joints a rub. “I’m going back to my office to change Marv. Let Bronco know I’ll be ready to see him in a half hour, and make sure that nobody in the employee lounge tries to change the channel if he’s watching television.

---

Bronco’s legendary disregard for human life and violent outbursts was well known by the staff. He generally ignored the others when he was seeing the great man. Sometimes, other lesser men would come speak to him first, or be the only one Bronco would interact with, but the great man understood Bronco and was preferable to anyone else. Time was not important to Bronco, and like an animal, he slept when he was tired, hunted and ate when hungry, and adapted to his environment as he moved along and traveled. It had been a day since he’d brought his quarry to the great man, who was obviously pleased that Bronco had been successful.

Normally, Bronco would not have enjoyed spending time cooped up indoors, as the great man’s lodge was not to his suiting, but he had been introduced to a program called Megaplex Hearts and was not so much a fan as he was a student of it. Some of the custodial staff were watching and Bronco observed their reactions; laughter, tears, concern – all from the same program. Bronco wasn’t familiar with the characters’ names, but he knew who worked in which shop in the Megaplex mall, and which relationships were going on. It was a reversal on the typical anthropological study, and the primitive was learning about how advanced cultures interacted, even though the serial was hardly accurate to reality (and not that Bronco cared or realized the difference).

One time when Bronco was in Somerset, he had bought back a dealer who’d figured there was more than enough money to go around and that a system of signals wouldn’t be detected between him and one of the clients. After only two days on the run and $435,000 of stolen money, Bronco succeeded in reclaiming what belonged to the great man. He had just arrived and saw Megaplex Hearts was on, which happened to be at the same time as a baseball game. The man was lucky and only lost two fingers, one of which was reattached with limited function. Whenever they would see Bronco arrive, the staff would try to avoid the employee area, and at the very least not even think about changing the program on Bronco.

Marv found Bronco taking in an episode of the show which he’d already seen – where Murdock, the electrician, was secretly installing his own video cameras in the Megaplex because he believed the security team was going to blackmail the shop owners into paying them on top of their rent to the complex owner. Murdock was in love with Jinny, a student that worked in the food court who was assaulted in the parking lot one night by none other than the twin brother of the head of security, and was in the air ducts setting up his surveillance equipment when he was on the verge of getting caught when the duct collapsed under his weight. Bronco was totally transfixed by the scene, and Marv waited until the commercial before even alerting Bronco to his presence, which was unnecessary since Bronco smelled him from the moment he’d arrived. This lesser man whom he recognized asked Bronco to come with him when he was ready to see the great man, and while excited about Murdock, Bronco wanted to see the great man in his chambers.

They had arrived in Dolph’s office, where he was dressed in more formal business attire.

“Ah, Bronco…once again, you have done what nobody else could, and brought back my two runaway children. They will be punished for sure, but you, you I will handsomely reward for taking care of this.”

Dolph took a stack of bills out from a drawer and put them side by side on his desk. Bronco was unmoved by the large sum of money. A small envelope was placed neatly on top. “Open it,” Dolph prodded him.

Bronco stepped up and followed the great man’s instructions. Inside was a ticket.

“NO FUCKING WAY, BRONCO!”

Apparently, even an animal could have a child’s excitement.

“That’s for the first Metallica show in almost a decade where they’re playing with a full symphony orchestra.”

“METAL MILITIA, MAN. ALRIGHT!”

“Before you go Bronco, I want you to stay around here for a few more days. Do you see on the monitor?” Dolph pointed at the dinghy on the lake with two people in it. “They are associates of the two you brought to me, and I expect they will find us soon.”

“I HUNT, THEREFORE I AM,” Bronco replied.

“No, you need not bring them to me. But if they try to leave with their friends, I will need you again.”

“YEAH, BRONCO!”

Dolph addressed Marv, “Give Bronco the supplies he requires so he is comfortable while he’s here.” Marv gestured for Bronco to leave, and he scooped up the money, handing to the savage, who refused to carry it. Bronco made his way out staring transfixed at the ticket. Marv turned back to his boss and spoke from the door.

“Where should we put him? It’s best if we keep him away from staff and especially clients.”

“He’ll want to stay outside. Outdoors. You can’t cage an animal like that. You have to let it run free…with a very long leash.”

---

Harry had been in and out of consciousness and was having a hard time focusing on his surroundings. But he recognized the voice addressing him.

“That’s Narcobarbital you’re feeling the effects of Mr. Turquoise. We would have preferred Propallylonal, but that’s just too hard to come by these days. It’s a barbiturate, and it’s still used in veterinary medicine as a surgical anesthetic. What you’re not feeling is the sodium thiopental we administered to loosen your tongue, and which I am not pleased with the results. I’m sorry I had to hit you as well. You were not being cooperative and a little fist music didn’t get you singing.”

Harry opened his eyes but had to squint under the glare of the surgical lights. He was in an infirmary, strapped into a wheelchair.

“Fuck you Dolph.”

“I wish we had a little more cooperation from your girlfriend, but she’s been quiet as a mouse since you got here.”

“Where is she, you prick?” Harry struggled to get up but had restraints on his ankles as well.

“She’s over there, Harry,” Dolph said, and over his shoulder there she was. “Angie has a broken vertebrae that we’re working on fusing so that she’s able to walk. How many women do you know who come back from being dead to the world, only to nearly drown and later be thrown from a bus? Quite impressive.”

“Listen you crazy son of a bitch, what you’re doing is opening the door to death and destruction. You want to be lord of the whores and the high roller’s patron saint, but you don’t have any idea of what you’re going to loose on this world.”

“On the contrary. I’m quite aware what’s knocking on the door. And if you’re not nice, you may get to see it first hand. Here. So why don’t you just let me know who else knows about my operations and, if I don’t kill you, I promise to only make your life a living nightmare and not utter hell. You won’t get a better deal, or a second one at that.”

Harry was silent and defiant. He was alive as long as Dolph was unsure what forces were marshaling against him, and while Dolph had no compunction about killing, the combination of paranoia and fear were going to have to work for Harry. Angie looked like she was sleeping peacefully, and then Harry remembered the bus crash and what happened to them.

“I’m not making any deals with you or saying anything until I’m certain Angie’s okay.”

“No, my friend. You’re not doing anything unless I tell you to do it. You better prove you have some value to me Harry. Her I can recondition. It was easy when we found her in Missoula, and we’ll do it again. But you’re going to be dead weight around here very soon. How dead is up to you.”

Marv came in and motioned to Dolph, who shut off the lamp that was shining on Harry, leaving the room darkened save the glow of monitors and medical machinery.

“What is it, Marv?”

“Well, sir, the Bullock boy and the other agent have moored on the far side of the lake and are heading in the direction of the northwest entrance. What do you suggest?”

“Let them come. If they can find us, let’s see if they can make their way in. I don’t care what they do to the agent, but the son is to be kept alive. He’s going to want to see his father and I hate to get in the way of family reunions.”

“Yes sir. And sir…it’s Bronco,” Marv said concerned.

“What about him?”

“He’s decided to make a camp out in the foothills. I saw him dig a hole and then shit in it.”

“Yes, that sounds about right. As long as we don’t bring any of our personnel or clients through there, it will be fine. Bronco will not bother anyone as long as he’s not bothered. But be ready to call upon him. These times are quickening.”

---

Their car pulled up in front of the Bullock residence, but Pam felt less like a journey had been completed. Ivy was still sleeping in the backseat, and Anton looked over to Pam for instruction.

“Looks like no one is home,” he said unimpressed.

“No, no one is. Not that we’re looking for.” Pam got out and went up to the front door, and stood there, arms crossed. After a minute, a SUV pulled up, and two men came out, heading towards where Pam stood. Anton started to get out of the car, but Pam made a gesture to stay.

“We’re looking for David Bullock,” Pam said to the two men. “Know where he might be?”

The younger of the two went to grab her, but Pam kicked him hard in the groin, dropping him to the ground. The other, a much older fellow pulled out a telescoping baton and advanced slowly. Pam reached into her pocket and pulled out a small wand.

“Yours is bigger than mine, but I think you’ll find I’m far more powerful than whatever you’ve got,” she said. He swung it at her and she dodged to the side, opening a spot where he was not protecting himself for Pam to thrust the caduceus into his ribs. She held it in front of his face, and it gave an electric blue glow. “If you don’t know where he is, what about his family?” Pam took the wand over to the fallen young man and put it in front of him. “Whoever sent you, take us to them.” Without protest, the men got up and hobbled back to their ride.

“We follow them,” Pam said to Anton. She looked at the wand before concealing it, and Hrel was impressed at his own abilities to recreate the agent’s tool. “We follow them and then we’ll start to get some answers.”