Vertigo

Chapter Nine - Courtesy Call

"Nothing. Nada," Arti shrugged, scrolling through the security footage of the gym. I pulled onto my hair in frustration as I continued pacing up and down the room as Big Boy stared in confusion, acting calmer then I was willing to accept. "There's not much I can do without a decent picture of her face, and she seemed to have avoided all the cameras like it was nothing."

"There has to be something else you can do, right?" I half asked half yelled before Big Boy pushed away from the wall he was leaning on, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Ask around for anyone that might have any hints to who she is," He spoke to Arti. The room was his office, tucked away neatly into the corner of the gym with a view of the ground floor through a set of dust grey blinds. His desk was littered with papers, held down by a heavy Revolver – a gift is given to him by his mother before she disappeared, saying it belonged to his father. "Someone needs to have something on her."

"I could do that but who knows how long it will take to get any valuable information? Most of the people we know are crack heads, looking for their next hit."

"I might know someone," I spoke, grabbing a dart from Big Boys desk before flinging it across the room – it soared smoothly, finding its mark on the dartboard nailed to the door. Forty. "Arti, can I borrow your phone?"

"Sure. But can someone tell me what the hell she even came for?"

"She's a psycho bitch," I spoke, punching a number into her phone before holding it to my ear. "Don't ever question a psycho bitch."

Though, the question had run through my head as the phone rang. Why'd she come back after all these years? Was it just because she couldn't find me until my father served me to the world on a silver platter? Why'd she simply walk away without finishing the job she failed to do three years ago. Why –

"Hello?" A familiar voice sounded through the phone, filled with static as he tried shielding the mic from the winds with his hand. "Who's there?"

"Cayne, it's me."

"Dawn? We thought you fell off the side of the earth while trying to find yourself."

"Very funny," I rolled my eyes as if he could see me do it. "How's everything going back in London."

"Still as bad. Maybe worst. Ben has started becoming paranoid..."

"I was afraid of something like that," I admitted, earning questioning stares from the rest of the group around me. I ignored them as I continued pacing. "How's Adelaide doing?"

He paused, leaving nothing playing through to my end but the hollow sound of rushing winds that sunk my gut with anxiety. He spoke finally, breaking the silence. "She's fine, considering what happened. Emily is with her now."

"I see," I sighed, feeling the pain in his voice. "Cayne, you know I wouldn't ask anything of you if I had another option."

"Figured this wouldn't be a social call," He laughed, "So, what's up, kid?"

I sighed before spending the next five minutes explaining to what happened, and the next fifteen trying to explain what she looked like – from her black hair to her red lips, although, he seemed to have frozen the moment I mentioned her being Japanese. He sighed.

"Stay away from her, kid." He spoke.

"What? Do you know who she is?"

"There are not many people capable of getting away with a murder of someone of your profile," He explained, "Even less of them are Japanese. Seems you just described Shi."

"Shi? That's it? That's all you have for me?" I questioned in protest.

"That's as much as anyone knows about her. Her real name is a closely kept secret then the code on Stalin's diary lock," He explained. "We came into contact with her a while back. Let's just say it wasn't the best moment in the organizations' history."

"I see," I leaned back, hitting my head against the door. "Say if I were to stay from her, where shouldn't I go?"

"You're going after her, aren't you?"

"I'm tired of running, Cayne. I need this. I need to put all this behind me."

"I see," He paused as he shut a door behind him, cutting the wind of the outside off. "Tell me, what will you do when you find her?"

"I've always been a dog chasing cars. You know that. I'll make it up as I go along." I admitted.

"Okay, okay." He caved. "Over the years, she made a name for herself in a rather risky sport. She'd join the bloodiest of street fighting tournaments, beat the crap out of some unexpecting soul until he decides it would be easier to simply drop dead. Then she'd move on as nothing happened. No one would know where she'd go. Just that she was there."

"So, I search underground arenas?"

"And cross your fingers that you don't find her, yeah."

"Sounds like a bedtime story," I frowned. "Anyway, thanks. Send my regards to the crew."

"Sure." He said before hanging up. I tossed the phone back to Arti.

"I'm coming with you. You can't go in alone." She spoke, Big Boy nodding along with her.

"Whatever, let's just get out there so I can put a bullet through the bitch's skull," I spoke, grabbing hold of the revolver, sticking into the back of my pants.

The scent of cigarette smoke, sweat and alcohol hit me like a train as I stepped into the parking arena. It was packed full tonight – the ring occupied by two guys who resorted to grappling. I pushed through the crowd, looking to find Tristan amongst the many faces.

"Dawn," Arti spoke, pointing towards the VIP section – a large purple couch, surrounded by bodyguards with biceps bigger than their own heads. Bill sat on the couch – his arms spread wide with his feet rested on the coffee table in front of him. She sat next to him, her eyes firmly fixated onto mine with a grin plastered on her face. Mine burned with rage as I rushed forward, grabbing hold of the gun as I rushed through the protesting crowd.

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder as one of the spectators crashed into me, spilling his drink into me – the cold cut through my clothes, forcing my attention to dart towards him. "Watch it!"

I shook it off, breaking through the final wall of spectators before reaching the VIP section – my knuckles white from holding the gun too tightly. My eyes narrowed as I looked up, seeing Bill sitting alone. He smiled ghastly before raising his glass.