Blindside (Michael Bennett 12)

“Aww, did she break your heart?” I enjoyed watching him change colors like some kind of screwed-up chameleon. He went from his normal flesh tone to a dark red, then a purple. After a few seconds, his color returned to normal.

In a much sharper tone than usual, he said, “You’ll learn—how do you Americans say it?—not to run your mouth.”

“When?”

“Today.”

When he smiled, I realized he was back to his usual, pompous self. Good. That made things more enjoyable and interesting.

That also made me throw in, “What if I don’t learn?”

Henry shook his head and mumbled, “It won’t matter.”

“Henry, I’ve been around a lot of criminals in my life. The successful ones are all business. How does this help your business?”

“What’s the point of being as successful as me if I can’t do things that make me feel better? This will make me feel better. In fact, I’m already enjoying it. I wish I could slip you back to Estonia so I could make it last.”

I smiled. “I don’t see you having the stomach to torture anyone. Even me.”

“I don’t have to torture anyone. I could just let you watch as your family suffers and destroys itself while you’re away.”

“You don’t know my family. They’re resilient.”

“Even if I ruined your credit and drained your bank accounts? What about if I add things to your son’s record and he doesn’t get out of jail for ten more years?”

I tried to hide the fact that this asshole had just hit a nerve. I didn’t do a very good job.

Henry chuckled. “See, everyone has a weakness. Virtually all weaknesses can be exploited by something online. That’s where I rule.”

“This isn’t the internet, it’s real life.”

“Yes, this is real. Sometimes that’s more satisfying.” He looked past me and said, “Here comes our other contestant.”

I turned my head and had to smile at the way the driver kept a couple of feet away from his prisoner. They stopped a few steps from us. The look on Henry’s face was spectacular. He stared silently for a moment.

I hoped he might change colors again.

Henry said, “Who the hell is that?”

The confused driver held up his hands and said, “It’s the mayor’s daughter. She was waiting right where you told me she would be.”

Henry walked over and ripped off the Yankees cap. Dark hair flopped out from under it and spread out across her shoulders.

I let out a laugh. It was partially to distract the two men, but there was a genuine element to it as well. I said, “I thought you were too smart to be tricked by anyone. You fell for this like an eight-year-old. Allow me to introduce you to NYPD detective Terri Hernandez. She looks a little like Natalie, I mean in a general way, right? Your driver fell for it.”

Henry worked his jaw for a moment as he backed away a few paces and then said, “You forget something, Detective.”

“What’s that?”

“I still have a gun.” He raised it next to his face, like he was showing it to us for the first time.

This time it was Terri Hernandez who let out a laugh. She said, “So what? Your driver has a pistol, too.”

Henry said, “Why do you find that so funny, Detective?”

She kept a smile on her pretty face. Then she threw me a wink. She said, “You think I wasn’t ready for that?” Without any warning, she stepped right next to the driver and hit the trigger of a Taser she had hidden under her dress. She used it like an old-style stun gun by jamming it into the driver’s side and pulling the trigger.

He let out a squawk and immediately dropped to the ground. His pistol skittered away from his outstretched arms. He convulsed for a few seconds, drawing everyone’s attention. A thin line of spit dribbled out of his open mouth. His eyes rolled back, giving him the look of a quivering zombie.