Kelly almost laughed at the pompous title, if utter bewilderment hadn’t strangled her senses.
Regina had never existed. She was a disguise worn by this well dressed man. How did he do it? Holographic technology? Magic?
A memory broke through her mental haze. “The Man of… no, you’re an urban legend. You’re a myth! A tale to scare the criminal filth in Markov!”
“I assure you, while Regina was an illusion, I and my name are very real,” the man said. “Do you know why I have that title?”
“A way to intimidate,” Kelly said as she tried to will her heart rate to slow.
“In part,” the man said. “But also because I am capable of showing anyone the things that truly terrify them. They are their worst nightmares… except there is no waking world to escape into.”
Kelly swallowed but her throat was dry.
“Fear not,” he said, placing his hands on the back of the bound man’s chair. “I am not here to torment you. I am here to give you a choice.”
“In my experience, criminals aren’t fond of giving genuine choices,” Kelly said.
“You’ll find that I am not a run-of-the-mill criminal, Kelly,” the man said. He gestured behind her. “Please, take a seat.”
Kelly found a simple wooden chair had appeared behind her without explanation. She did as she was bidden. What choice did she have?
“This man you see before you,” The Man of Nightmares said, taking slow steps around the chair, “is – or was – a member of my organisation. Bottom rung, one of the many unfortunates who do the dirty work. Except he wasn’t happy with his position. Instead of doing his job, following orders, and moving weapons as directed, he thought he’d use the resources of my organisation to dabble in drug trafficking.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” Kelly said.
The man nodded. “Whenever you please.”
“Why do you care if he was running guns or drugs?”
“I am many things,” the man said in a low, threatening voice, “but I am not a drug trafficker. And no one in my organisation is either.”
“It was through one of these unsavoury deals,” the man continued, “that this degenerate failed to cover his tracks. Your partner, Lewis, found that track and soon began to unravel the hard kept secrecy I and all of my diligent operatives insist on retaining.”
Kelly’s blood went cold. “You… you killed Lewis.”
The man shook his head ever so slightly. “No. This man did. The one before you.”
Kelly frowned. “What?”
“This fool – Denver, I think his name is – was afraid his drug dealing would reach his superior. Once he knew Lewis had began mining away at both our weapon trading and Denver’s drug pushing, he panicked. And he did the one thing that pea-brained, knee-jerk scumbags always do when they panic… they kill someone.”
“He did it?” Kelly said. “Then what – then why – why am I here? What am I doing here?”
“I didn’t know how much the police knew,” The Man of Nightmares said. “But killing an officer always invites trouble. So I invented a persona.”
Light seemed to dance over the man’s skin until he took on the appearance of Regina, including her voice. “I tagged along on the investigation, led by you, to see what you knew and to learn what you would discover. Your chief is on my payroll, so it was easy to get my foot in the door. Your relentless determination led you exactly to where I feared it would – the apartment of Denver. If you got to him before me, it could have been the beginning of the end for the weapons smuggling ring.”
“If Langden works for you, why did you show up in person to find this out? Couldn’t the chief just told you what happened? Couldn’t he have killed the case and left it there?”
“Of course,” the man said. “He helps me keep tabs on everything going on. But the murder of a law enforcement officer… let’s just say outside of the attention such a killing engenders, I prefer to investigate matters of this magnitude myself.”
“But if you’re who you say you are,” Kelly said, “why didn’t you just kill Denver yourself? If he was dead, there was no trail for me to follow.”
“Because I never miss an opportunity,” the man said as the illusion sloughed off him. “This is where the choice I mentioned earlier comes into play. Take your gun.”
Kelly slowly drew her pistol. “What makes you think I won’t just shoot you?”
The man’s face softened, as if hearing a child say something ignorant but understandable. “Then I was wrong about you. And your choice will be made.”
“So… what now?”
The man stepped to the side of his hostage. “This is the man who killed your partner in a brain-dead act of desperation to hide his tracks and protect himself. I have no use for those who would kill law enforcement in such a stupid and unplanned fashion. So I give you the choice. You can be the one who fires the bullet that kills him.”
“And if I choose not to shoot a bound and gagged man in cold blood?”
The man clicked his fingers and the cloaked operatives rematerialised.
Kelly took a sharp breath and held it, but fought past her reflexive instinct and spoke through it. “And how do I know these aren’t illusions?”
“While the word of a man who posed as your partner-in-training might be suspect, I can assure you any bullets that leave their guns will act precisely in the manner in which they are designed to.”
Kelly scowled. “You can’t be serious. You’re asking an officer to kill a defenceless man, based on your word that he was the murderer? And if I refuse, you’ll kill me?”
“I’ve watched you, Kelly,” the man said. “You aren’t preoccupied with following procedures if they get in the way of getting the job done. If you end him here, you will deliver justice to Lewis. If you take him into custody, he’ll just end up back on the street sooner or later.”
“So why ask me to shoot him?”
“If you do, you’ll prove to me that the glimmer of ambition and pragmatism I see in you was not a mirage… and you’ll be welcomed into my organisation.”
Kelly shook her head. “You’re making a lot of assumptions about me. I have backup ready to enter this room. All I have to do is radio them.”
“Oh yes, the backup that Chief Langden said he would prepare,” the man said. “That was never going to happen. Langden works for me, if you recall.”
Kelly remained silent. If this Denver was the murderer, The Man of Nightmares was right. Her own mother was killed by a piece of shit that got released and was never held to account. She wanted to change things from within, but this man held a twisted moral code that she thought she understood. That she resonated with. He didn’t need legal authority to mete out moral judgement. He didn’t work within a rigged framework designed to protect the wealthy and punish the poor.
“No, I don’t,” the man said. “My authority is absolute and overrides all others in Markov. And with people like you, we will ensure the streets are cleaned of filth.”
“You… read my mind,” Kelly said.
The man stared at her with soft but unwavering eyes.
“If you really mean what you say,” The Man of Nightmares said, “if you really care about stamping out common thugs and ensuring that the people of Markov can live their lives free from the harassment of degenerates and drug dealers… not to mention those who pull their strings to achieve their corrupt ends… you’ll prove that resolve now, and join with me to make that statement a reality.”
Lewis was dead, Chief Langden worked for this whispered myth, and Regina never existed. Death was the alternative. What did she really have to lose?
The Man of Nightmares strolled to the wall and retrieved a hitherto unnoticed briefcase. He brought it to Kelly and placed it on her lap. “To ensure that you understand I am sincere in my beliefs, watch this.”
Kelly undid the latches and opened the briefcase. Inside was a laptop, its screen paused on a video recording. She thought she recognised the room, though the monotone colour made it difficult to pinpoint.
“This is Lewis’ apartment,” the man said. “This is the footage from his in-home security system, the night of his murder.”
“There was no-“
“My technicians scrubbed the data. I didn’t need the police to see this scum’s face.”
Kelly hit the play button.
A man burst through Lewis’ door holding a pistol. “This isn’t how it’s goin’ down, man!”
Lewis sat at his dining room table, back to the door, chewing on a jaffle. “The only way you stay alive is if you co-operate with me, Denver. I’ll keep your name out of it when I file my report, just like I promised. No one in your organisation has to know it was you who ratted them out.”
Denver’s hand shook as Lewis spoke almost uninterested to the criminal. Still the officer didn’t turn around, drawing the conclusion that Denver wasn’t a threat.
“Or…” Denver said, “I can kill you. Then you can’t file no report, and my hands stay clean!”
Unmoved by the threat, Lewis spoke through a mouthful of food. “You won’t. Because if you do, everything will come crashing down on you, and you’ll be worse off than if-“
Denver lifted his arm and fired. A flash of light issued from his gun and Lewis collapsed on the floor, unmoving. Denver stared for a moment and then ran out of the apartment.
Kelly threw the briefcase from her lap, grabbed her pistol, and rushed to the bound man. She stuck the muzzle in Denver’s leg and pulled the trigger. Denver groaned, though with less enthusiasm than Kelly expected. Less than she wanted.
“He won’t feel that much,” the man said. “He was beaten within an inch of his life.”
Kelly drove the gun into Denver’s temple and fired.
“There,” she said, feeling a grim but welcoming sense of satisfaction. “Now he doesn’t feel anything.”