The Killer’s New Obsession by B.B. Hamel
Cam
Right at midnight, I parked my car in the middle of West Philly and killed the engine. It was a quiet block close to Drexel, and there wasn’t anyone out on the street, no pedestrians walking their dogs or taxis rolling past. The place was dead and silent and cold.
Irene slumped down in her seat wearing all black. She crossed and uncrossed her legs and shifted her position over and over again. I knew she was terrified for what was about to happen.
I got out my phone. “Text from Sasha,” I said.
Irene perked up. “What’s it say?”
“She’s in position and all the girls are ready.” I looked at the clock. Four more minutes. My phone buzzed again. “Another text from Anna. She’s ready, girls are ready.” More buzzes, from Lara and Vera, from a few other girls that were leading their attacks on their houses. Everyone was ready and accounted for.
I wouldn’t hear anything else from them, at least not right away. Now it was time to wait.
“I’m scared,” Irene admitted. “It’s weird. I lived so long with being afraid, and then I forgot what it felt like for a little bit being with you.”
“Nerves before a fight,” I said. “Everyone gets them.”
Myself included, but I didn’t let it show. I didn’t want Irene to know how worried I felt.
So much could go wrong. Some of the girls would be decent fighters, but some of them were hopeless in front of a completely still target. When it came to pointing a gun at a man and pulling the trigger, when it came to blood and murder, it was easy to freeze up and make a mistake. The houses with Anna and the sisters and Sasha, they’d be fine.
And all the other houses had my guys ready and waiting to go in.
One per house. I couldn’t mass them all together. I had to spread them apart and hope that the girls stepped up and did what they had to do. Their orders were simple: when they heard shooting and fighting, get in there and help kill. The girls knew my guys would come in, but that didn’t necessarily mean it would be safe. I had to hope they’d be careful and make it through this.
One last text with two minutes to go. “Linc says he’s ready and all the guys are accounted for,” I said. “Which just leaves us.”
Irene sighed. “I almost wish we were going in somewhere, you know? Helping out?”
“We have a more important mission,” I said.
She nodded, but said nothing. One minute to go. My hands were sweating. We were parked close enough to a couple different houses, including the one where Sasha would break in the back and lead the attack, that we should hear the gunshots.
If the shots came at all.
Irene reached out and grabbed my hand. Her palms were hot and sweaty with nerves. I squeezed her fingers.
“Time,” I said.
The night was silent. Nothing nearby, nothing in the distance. Irene stared at me, skin going pale, mouth hanging open—
There was no way all the houses would fuck up at the same time. Unless the Healys figured out what was going on. Unless something worse happened—
Then a bang close by. Then another, and another. Gunshots blazing up the night, loud and everywhere. Irene squeezed me hard and leaned over. I pulled her against me and held her as the guns blazed wildly, firing in multiple different locations, some of them nearby, some of them far off. It sounded like a war zone, and it was a fucking war zone. These girls were fighting for their lives and their freedom.
A text buzzed in from Linc. “His place is secure,” I said. “Only four guys were inside, all dead.” Then another text from Vera. “The sisters are good. Six dead men, one injured girl.” The gunfire continued then slowly began to taper off. Texts blew up my phone. “Alvaro says they’re good, one girl dead, eight dead Healy men. Anna made it, one Healy guy got away, seven are dead, one girl is hurt pretty bad.”
“Sasha?” Irene whispered.
I shook my head. Nothing from Sasha yet. It was ten minutes after the attack started and I began firing off more texts. “Come on,” I said softly to myself.
Then my phone buzzed. “Sasha’s okay,” I said, relief flooding through me, and then another text came in. “And she spotted Ronan.” I started the engine.
“Our turn,” Irene said.
I drove fast toward Sasha’s place. Fortunately, she was nearby, and we were prepared for this. The plan hinged on being able to communicate with the girls while everything went down and I was shocked that everyone managed to send out messages when they were supposed to. If my crew hadn’t split up and managed each hit, watching over the girls then relaying the results, I doubted this would’ve worked so well.
But so far, only a few girls were dead. There’d probably be more before this was all through, and more injured on top of that, but it was a miracle there hadn’t been worse. And from what I could tell, there were twenty or more dead Healys.
That was massive. Absolutely massive.
I slammed on the brakes halfway down the black from Sasha’s place. Two cars were parked in the street out front. I jumped out and pulled my gun, and Irene came after me, lagging behind. I wished she’d stay in the car but I knew she couldn’t hide from this.
I approached the cars from the street, making sure to keep close to the curb. The driver of the first car didn’t see me and I managed to put a bullet in his head before he even turned his attention in my direction. The next guy tried to get his seatbelt off, but too slow—I killed him as he scrambled for a gun.
Inside was quiet and the door hung open.
I gestured at Irene to stay hidden as I moved up the stoop, gun raised.
Stairs on the left led up to the second floor. Blood was splattered on the wall and the railing, and a body was lying just head. Probably a Healy guy, shot while coming downstairs. I moved forward and into the living room, then pressed myself up against the wall.
Three men were crouched down behind an upturned table.
I came out of hiding. Their attention was focused on the other side of the room toward the kitchen. I guessed that was where Sasha and her girls were hiding.
I whistled once, sharp and high. The three men looked at me—
Ronan in the middle, his eyes wide.
I killed the man on his left. The man on his right raised his gun and I put a bullet in him before Ronan returned fire and forced me to fall back. I felt a shot graze against my arm, a burning, sharp pain like a wasp digging its stinger into my flesh.
“I thought you’d show up,” Ronan called. I heard him move to better cover. “I got your message, you know.”
“That was from Irene,” I said.
“That thief slut,” he said, spitting the words out.
“Careful,” I said. “I wouldn’t talk about her that way if I were you.”
He chuckled darkly. “Tell me, Cam. How’d you manage all this?”
“I’m very enterprising.” I crouched down and looked around the corner. Ronan fired at me, but missed high. He had the table angled now so that he was slightly blocked in both directions. I couldn’t see if Sasha was there, but I knew she could hear us talking at least.
“Bullshit,” Ronan said. “So many other men in your little family have tried to take us down and failed. How the hell did you do this?”
“You didn’t see them,” I said as a figure appeared at the end of the hallway.
Sasha, grinning at me. She saluted with the gun. Her shoulder bled freely and her front was drenched in it, but she was alive.
I waved her over and pressed a finger against my lips. She nodded, standing just behind me.
“How’s that?” Ronan asked. “Didn’t see them? You’re so full of shit, Cam. You’re going to tell me that I underestimated the girls then, is that it?”
“That’s it,” I said. “You thought they were a bunch of strung-out junkies. Didn’t consider they might be willing to do something drastic for their freedom.”
“They’re ungrateful,” he said, growling the words. “We brought them to America, gave them work, gave them drugs and a home and meaning—”
“Careful,” I said. “Or those girls are going to rush you and end this.”
Silence for a second. I looked at Sasha and pointed at her then pointed up and toward Ronan. I pointed at myself, then down, then toward Ronan. She nodded once and seemed to understand that I wanted her to go high while I went low and distracted him.
I held up a hand to wait.
“What do you want?” Ronan asked, sounding wary and tired now. “I get it, I’m pinned down. Bitches to my left, bitches to my right. Tell me what you want, Cam.”
“You know what I want,” I said.
“You can’t have my head, if that’s all there is,” Ronan said. “You’ve got to want something else. Money? You want names and addresses?” His voice started to break. “Tell me how to get out of this.”
I started to drop my fingers down one at a time. “There’s no way out, Ronan. Be a man and face it.”
“Fuck you,” Ronan roared. “I am a man. I’m a man of the Healy family, son of my father, Colm, strongest leader in this city, I’m a goddamn—”
I dropped all my fingers then rolled forward. Ronan left cover to shoot at me, and I kicked against the ground, propelling myself along the hardwood floor. I slid along my side and shoulder and fired off a few wild rounds that were never meant to hit, only meant to keep him focused on me.
Ronan fired. Bullets slammed into the floor around me. Then Sasha came out of cover and shot him clean in the face.
The round took Ronan in the skull. His head snapped back and blood sprayed on the wall behind him. I lay there, breathing hard, feeling for blood or injury, but there was only the grazed shoulder. Sasha grimaced as she pressed against the bullet wound in her own shoulder, then looked down at me and grinned.
“Got him,” she said. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
I slowly got to my feet as girls began to come out of the kitchen. They looked scared and tired and terrified, but they kept hold of their guns as they gathered around Sasha.
I walked over to Ronan and stared down at this dead body. Then I took out my phone, snapped a picture, and put my phone away.
“Gross,” Sasha said.
“Don Valentino wants proof,” I said. “There’s his proof.” I spit on Ronan for good measure. “Bastard deserved this.”
Sasha looked back at the herd of scared girls then shook her head. “What now, boss?”
“Now we leave,” I said. “Everyone out. Grab your stuff, all the money you can, and let’s go. There are two cars out front, although whoever has to drive is going to get a little blood on them.”
“All right, you heard the man,” Sasha barked, and the girls started moving like they broke from a dream. They scattered toward the stairs and started running up to get their stuff.
“How are the other houses?” Sasha asked, worry in her tone. “Anna? The sisters?”
“All good,” I said. “We lost some, but not many. From what I can tell, all the Healy guys are dead.”
“Fuck.” Sasha leaned back against the wall. “Can you believe this shit?”
“I can believe it,” I said. “Come on, you’re with me. You need a doctor.”
“A doctor.” She laughed. “I don’t even have insurance. Actually, scratch that. I don’t even have citizenship.”
I laughed and steered her toward the hall. “Hurry up,” I shouted upstairs. “Cars out front. Head to the manor.” I looked at Sasha. “They know where that is, right?”
“Right,” she said, nodding. “Drilled it into them.”
“Good.” I helped her outside.
Irene jumped out of hiding and scared the shit out of me. She ran to Sasha, sucked in a shocked breath, then got under her other arm. “Are you okay?” Irene asked. “Oh my god, you’re shot.”
“I’m fine,” Sasha said, smiling weakly. “We’re going to a doctor.”
“There’s one at the manor,” I said. “Don Valentino put one on standby for tonight.”
“Let’s go then,” Irene said.
We hurried back to the car. I got them in the back seat then drove away into the night just as the girls filed out of the house. I watched in the rearview as they yanked the bodies from the Healy cars and began to get inside.
More texts came throughout the night. In all, five girls died, eight more were injured, and most of the rest met up at the Valentino mansion. Some ran off and went on their own, and I wished them good luck.
Twenty-six Healy men died that night, including Ronan. Only two got away.
Those fucking girls. Those warriors.
I met Irene’s eye as she pressed her hand against Sasha’s wound and she grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back, because I knew that this was over—but the real stuff, the good stuff, had just begun.
