Cut From A Tattered Cloth

Chapter 18

"How long will this take?"

Donny raised an eyebrow. "Well, good evening to you, too. Glad to see you made it out of that gun fight in one piece."

Eijiro grunted, throwing Donny's arm off his shoulders and shoving his hands into his pocket. They walked down the hall, the place eerily quiet after all the noise he'd just heard. He looked over his shoulder, at the double doors they'd just come through. Was it really okay? Leaving her alone back there?

"She'll be fine," Donny said, a hint of arrogance melting off of his voice. "You worry too much about her, Eiji. She's--"

"She almost died yesterday."

Even as he said it, the image came back to his mind. Melia covered in blood. Melia gasping for air...

"Eiji."

Eijiro blinked. He hadn't realized he was standing in front of the double doors again. Music trickled through from the other side as his hands squeezed the handles, ready to throw them open.

Donny leaned against the door on the right. He looked concerned. Which, for some reason, Eijiro found extremely annoying.

"Look, you're worried," he said. "I get it. Your girl's been through a lot and you feel responsible. But the best thing you can do for her now is find the bastards who did this. Not the one who laid hands on her--I heard she took care of that herself--but the ones pulling the strings. You get ahead of them, you win the game. You win the game, you keep her safe. Understand?"

Eijiro wanted to be mad at him, but Donny was right.

Kuso, he thought. Since when had Donny Vitale become the sensible one?

He clenched his hands into fists and forced himself to step away. "So what do we do?"

"Attaboy, Eiji. I knew you weren't all stupid." Donny reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a sand timer. He tossed it to Eijiro. "Gimme ten minutes. I'll explain as much as I can."

Eijiro pinched the timer between his thumb and forefinger. It was bigger than the ones he'd seen in board games, but not by much. Turning it upside down, he watched as grains of sand trickled into the bottom half.

Donny opened a door marked as a conference room. Four men in suits came out. Donny spoke to the first one, a man with a hooked nose and auburn hair.

"Dieci minuti," he said to him. "Sai cosa fare?"

The man nodded. "Si, signore."

He signaled his men. Two went down the hall, following the direction Donny and Eijiro had just come from. The other went in the opposite direction. The man nodded at Donny, waving them inside.

Donny clapped him on the shoulder. "Grazie, Betto."

Eijiro followed him inside and the guard, Betto, closed the door behind them.

"This is a lot for a ten minute talk," Eijiro said.

Donny shrugged. "Ten minutes, sixty. It wouldn't really matter. We take our privacy very seriously around here."

He flipped a switch on the wall. Nothing happened. On a gut feeling Eijiro glanced down at his comm and saw he wasn't getting service, anymore. He tensed.

"Relax, Eiji," Donny said, sensing his thoughts. "I told you, it's for privacy. Look, mine's not working either." He turned his wrist to Eijiro, verifying what he said. "Besides, you can still Sense the kid can't you? With those little bows you left on her?"

Eijiro glared at him, but he reached out anyway. Sure enough, Melia was fine. Her pulse was elevated, but it wasn't like the embassy. She was probably just excited. Her hands gestured animatedly, as though she were talking to an old friend. Eijiro wondered if Donny's nephew had made an appearance, after all.