BLACK JACK SAVAGE 4 of 4

BJS: Life’s a Beach, Then You Die…

SECTION 4 OF 4, Continuation:



XV

It was well after midnight when Barry Tarberry felt the first twinges of awareness thread through his consciousness. He wanted to ignore it, to fall back into blissful slumber…but now that he was more or less awake, he became aware of the all-too-quite silence. It had taken weeks to become accustomed to all the various – not to mention annoying as hell – night sounds that accompanied the Island’s evenings. And…he was feeling a bit stiff and sore, a bit weak and woozy… and not recalling why he should feel those physical reactions. But, most annoying of all, he wasn’t lying on the deep, comfortable mattress he was used to; whatever was under him was very similar to a concrete slab with a few thin layers of Styrofoam over it.


He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. “Hospital” clicked in his mind, and immediately connected with the events that had resulted in his current status. His hand went quickly to his chest, where he remembered feeling the bullets hit, and encountered several layers of gauze, bandages, and tape. Questions whirled in his mind: How long had he been here? Had the two bastards who had gunned him down been captured, convicted, and, if not immediately executed, then at least sentenced to one hundred years of extremely hard, ball-breaking labor? And why was Logan Murphy sitting, asleep, a few feet away, instead of being at Blackbird Castle, as he distinctly remembered telling him?


Enough of this; it was time to get his own answers. He didn’t seem to be any the worse for the shooting, and he started to sit up when a familiar voice cautioned otherwise.


~I wouldn’t, if I were you. And since I am, don’t~


~Jack? You’re here? Why? Or are you hanging around the Recovery Room in hopes of a save?~


~God, you never change, do you? I’m here, with you, ‘cause you wouldn’t make it without me.~


~Yeah, right. Look, I think I can make it off a hospital bed, Jack... Without any help from you.~


~Think so, huh? Fine, be my guest. I give you ten-to-one that you don’t even get fully upright.~


Tarberry hadn’t been aware that he’d been conversing with Savage mentally, with an occasional word escaping as a mumbled, incoherent rambling that was just above a whisper. He felt okay, and he started to sit up; and when he did, it happened. The word agony didn’t begin to cover what he felt, and the scream that started in his chest never made it past his lips. Almost as instantly, the pain was gone, and he fell back onto the suddenly soft pillow, gasping for breath, the memory of the pain still too recent and too strongly felt.


~You were saying?~ Savage’s voice reached him, not from outside, but… from the inside.


~What’s going on here, Jack?~


~I was going to ask you the same question. A certain meeting in Vasquez’s office, a certain, signed deed--?~


Barry’s mind quickly closed, shutting out memories he didn’t want known. ~I can explain all that, Jack; but what are you doing here? Thought you’d said that there was no way in Hell you’d leave Blackbird Castle until I got the Snark-Catcher from Logan. And how come I seem to hear you in my head?~


~It’s a long, involved, and thoroughly pathetic story of how a Seventeenth Century Pirate has to ensure the survival of a Twentieth Century pirate. Maybe I should write a poem about it--~


~No, no, just give me the bottom line; I don’t need the details.~


~Didn’t think so. And, uh, one more small, rather insignificant detail… While I’m ‘in residence’, so to speak, only one of us can be… in charge.~


~What’s that supposed to mean?~


~It means, as much as you may hate, resent, and/or loathe it, you’re gonna hafta take orders from me.~


~Like Hell.~


~Yeah, pretty much.~


Barry felt his teeth grinding, and the feeling of smugness wasn’t his. That was a heck of a price to pay just to remain alive. ~All right, lay it out. How long and how much…? Control, that is.~


~How long? Believe me, no longer than absolutely necessary. And how much control…?~ Tarberry heard the laughter, echoing in his mind. ~Total, babe, total.~


~Uh-uh, no-way. I’m not relinquishing control, total or otherwise, to a – a-- Seventeenth Century nobody who wouldn’t know a CEO from a CPO, or shareholder from a sharecropper, and thinks a stock market quote is the daily cattle price.~


~Okay, okay, calm down… I’m having enough trouble keeping your heart rate stable as it is. Tell you what, any important fiscal matters come up, I’ll ask you.~


~You don’t shut me out completely, got it? The only reason I’m going along with this is ‘cause I really haven’t much choice, have I? It’s either put up with you, or meet the Grim Reaper, right?~


~That’s right, Barry. And people say you’re slow to catch on…~



~*~*~*~


Murphy awoke to someone shaking his shoulder, and looked up into Danielle’s warm brown eyes, and found himself smiling in return.


“Logan? Barry stabilized during the night, and is actually improving. Isn’t it wonderful?” She moved to Tarberry’s side, touched his face lightly – a gesture not lost on Murphy. “I talked to the Head Nurse. She says if Barry continues to improve at this rate, they may be moving him from Intensive Care by tomorrow evening. It’s almost like a… a miracle…”


Logan struggled to neaten his rather rumpled and unkempt appearance, and rose stiffly from the chair. “That’s great news, Danielle. Far as I know, he slept through the night, no problems at all.” He watched her slim fingers curl around Barry’s hand, and suggested half-heartedly, “Ummm…if you haven’t had breakfast yet, Miss St. Claire, I thought maybe we could–of course, if you already have, that’s okay, but if you haven’t--or want to stay here—”


Trying not to laugh, she finally rescued him. “Logan, I haven’t eaten yet, and, yes, I’d like to have breakfast with you. They told me Barry won’t wake for some time yet, so we’ll come back later.”


Murphy opened the door for her, and then hurried out after her. Waiting at the elevator bank, she broke the silence. “Were you here all night?”


“Well… yeah. They didn’t seem too hopeful… and since I was already here, and there weren’t any relatives at hand—” He didn’t mention his little white lie that he had told the staff about being Barry’s nephew, which had been the real reason he had been allowed to stay. “I just figured it was the least I could do.”


She smiled. “It didn’t take you long to tire of the luxury of Blackbird Castle… or did the ghost of Black Jack Savage show up?”


“Naaahhhh, nothing like that. It’s just… I mean… Darn it all, Miss St. Claire, it was bad enough that Vasquez was already planning to put the castle on the market, but all the phone calls, all those people… Right after the news got out, there were… people--” He made the word sound less than human. “calling, faxing, stopping by. They wanted to either repossess Mr. Tarberry’s property to pay off overdue bills, or buy things… everything and anything that could be carried out.


“Well, I tell you, Miss St. Claire, that got my dander up, it did. It’s one thing to go after a guy when he’s hale and hearty, but something else altogether when he’s down and out, with no one to turn to – no matter what kind of rat he is.



“Uh, not to say that Mr. Tarberry’s a rat, but you know what I mean…”


Danielle was somewhat surprised to see the tiger in Logan Murphy. He looked, and sounded, like an affronted lioness protecting her cub. “Yes, Logan, I know what you mean.”


“And the media,” he went on in an aggrieved tone, “they wanted a…a ‘story’, an in-depth analysis of the ‘whys’ and ‘what-fors’. They wanted a juicy, first-rate scandal of some kind, is what they wanted.


“It was awful, just awful. Like vultures, looking for a chance to swoop down and tear the carcass—” He broke off as the elevator doors opened, and the visitors within looked at them curiously.


He stood aside to allow Danielle to enter first. “I just went off, and left them with their hands out. They want an interview,” he finished up as the doors closed, “let ‘em interview the ghost…”


~*~*~*~

Carlo Santelli slapped off the TV with satisfaction, turned to his partner. “Well, whaddaya think? No death notices yet, but the outcome seems certain. He ain’t gonna make it.”


John Edwards, who had gone be the name of John Jones, shook his head as he shuffled through the local paper. “We ain’t movin’ from this place until I can take that bastard’s obituary back to Mr. Cooper.


“And,” he added, grimacing with distaste, “We’re not gonna pull some freaking ‘break into the hospital as doctors’ or some such shit, either; that crap is for TV. Tarberry might leave the hospital, but he ain’t gonna make it home…”


Santelli shrugged, picking up the Room Service menu. Since they were going to be stuck on Nowhere Island indefinitely, they might as well enjoy what few amenities that were available to them.


~*~*~*~

Two days after Black Jack Savage took up ‘residence’, Tarberry was moved from ICU to a private room. And two days after that, due to rapid improvement on the patient’s part, most of the monitors were removed.


~Soon as they disconnect you from all these tubes and junk, we’re outta here, Barry… This place gives me the creeps.~ Black Jack spoke silently in Tarberry’s mind, shivering bit.


Tarberry smiled, pretending to be asleep, but all along enjoying the close contact of one Danielle St. Claire. He had a feeling if he ‘woke up’, she’d find an excuse to leave. ~Hope you’re patient. I’ve learned to be.~ He answered mentally.


A nurse came in at that point. “Ms. St. Claire, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. It’s time for Dr. Blackthorn to examine Mr. Tarberry. If all goes well, the catheter can be removed – if he’s strong enough to walk,” she added.


The exam didn’t take long, not with Savage’s assistance. Barry not only satisfied the doctor’s testing, but also was able to walk a few yards as well, before needing help. Black Jack didn’t want to over-do it; they didn’t want a room full of doctors trying to figure out the patient’s ‘miraculous’ recovery.


~Didn’t think they’d ever leave…~ Black Jack grumbled as the door closed behind the nurse.


~Well, we’re not gonna have much time. And, Jack, I want those guys. Nobody tries to close my account and gets away with it.~


~Way ahead of you~ Savage swung ‘their’ legs over the edge of the bed. ~Sure hope someone thought to bring you some clothes. Guy could catch his death in this sissy sack…~


~Check the closet.~


A quick look confirmed the undying optimism of the human race in general, and of friends in particular. There were two suits and a few shirts and slacks; shoes, socks, a brown leather belt, along with underwear, were folded neatly on top of Barry’s wallet in the top drawer of the built-in chest. Barry/Black Jack looked over the clothing, and Tarberry commented, ~Well, whoever picked this out has good – and expensive – taste. They chose the best of the best of my million-dollar wardrobe.~ The errant thought flitted by, given only cursory attention, that the clothing may have been intended for his ‘final fitting.’


Black Jack’s impatience came to the fore. ~Okay, okay. Throw on a few bucks and let’s go.~


No one interrupted them as Tarberry quickly changed into the ivory and beige linen suit; his movements were slow, but the bandages didn’t seem to hamper him too badly… but then, Savage was preventing him from feeling any pain, so that doubtless had something to do with it…


~Okay, let’s go—OwwOhhcchh!!!~ His sentence was abruptly cut off as Black Jack, accustomed as he was to passing through solid matter – like doors – attempted the same feat – with painful results. Barry rubbed his nose. ~Dammit, Jack! You’ve got a body now – mine! Wanna try to remember that little detail?~


~Yeah, yeah…sorry. This takes a little getting used to; it has been a few hundred years, you know. By the way, do you have any idea how to find whoever it is we’re looking for?~


~A few.~ ‘They’ glanced up and down the long corridor. ~I figure they’ll hang around until they’re sure the job was done. They don’t like return engagements.~


‘They’ left the hospital without incident, as no one expected a critically injured patient to just get up and walk out – and certainly not in a $5000 suit. Flagging down a taxi, an argument started before the rear door was closed.


~Time for the Deep-Six, Barry.~


~Drop dead.~


~Been there, done that… Now, I told you, only one of us can be in charge; it’s too draining physically and emotionally otherwise. You need to sit back and take it easy anyway. Just ‘cause you don’t feel any pain, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.~


~I’m fine. You just keep me on my feet. That’s all you need to do, Jack, Ol’ Man.~


~Why did you have me tell the cab driver to go to the Vasquez Hilton?~


~Do you really think those guys have left the Island without being certain they had carried out their contract? Their employer doesn’t take anyone’s word – not even God’s; he’s gonna want some kind of proof… of the physical variety. So, we’re going after them before they come after us.


~And the most expensive – and best – hotel in San Pietro is the Vasquez Hilton.~



XVI


As they entered the hotel, Barry suggested they wait at the lounge/bar; the two thugs would no doubt put in an appearance eventually – extreme boredom being a great motivator. Black Jack agreed, and was pleasantly surprised, and pleased, at the immediate attention they received from the doorman, the manager, the headwaiter, and the bartender. And it wasn’t because they knew who Tarberry was, either; but because he was now wearing the right clothes and the right color. He hadn’t had this many people toadying to him since his Pirate Captain days – something else he had forgotten, and discovered he missed a great deal.


In fact, he found he missed life altogether; missed the warmth, the awareness, and the interaction between other living people. And although his senses were now somewhat limited, it was more than compensated for by just being alive.


He could stay that way, if he wanted. Right now, his will, his strength, was much stronger than Tarberry’s. He could appropriate this body, take it over completely… of course, his soul would be condemned to Hell for Eternity if he did do such a thing, but wouldn’t thirty or forty years of life – real life – be worth it? And he, Black Jack, could do a Hell of a lot more good with Tarberry’s financial and social position than Barry would ever consider… Wouldn’t that balance the scales a bit?


Savage had been keeping his thoughts carefully shielded, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that Barry was ‘talking’ to him.


~I think we’d better order something, Jack; the waiter keeps coming by and asking.~


~Tell him you’re waiting for someone, and you’ll both order then. Judging from what’s been arriving from the hospital’s kitchen, you’re not supposed to be eating, or drinking, just anything.~


After Tarberry gave that information to the waiter, Black Jack decided to get a few answers for himself. ~You want to tell me about that signed deed now? And why two hoods were waiting in ambush at Vasquez’s office? And why you’re cuttin’ out on our deal?~


~C’mon, Jack… It was a great deal. Vasquez said they had an offer from a ‘well-placed’ source that, in exchange for a few ‘favors’ from me, all my debts would be paid, the charges that the SEC had against would be dropped, and,~ He added in a tone that indicated that this had been the deciding factor, ~not only would they buy Blackbird Castle from me, but I’d also get the CEO position of a multi-billion dollar corporation at twice what I was making.~


~Barry, does the phrase ‘Too good to be true’ mean anything to you?~


~Yeah, it describes most of my dates and my ex-wife.~


~Look, it was a set-up. They knew all the buttons to push to get you where they wanted you, unsuspecting and vulnerable as hell. And you, Corporate Genius and Wall Street Raider, fell for it like the first-year VP of a toothpick factory… ~ Black Jack laughed heartily. ~I think you’d better let me handle your ‘great deals’ …~


~You’re not handling anything of mine.~


~Like I want to. So, if these killers show up, what are you – or should I say ‘we’— going to do? Are you armed?~ He asked smugly, already knowing they weren’t.


~Only with my devastating good looks, killer blue eyes, and rapier wit.~


~We are in trouble.~


~Did I mention my razor-sharp intellect and deadly sense of humor?~


~We are in deadly deep trouble…~


~*~*~*~


The lunch crowd was just clearing out when the two suspects walked in and were shown a table.


~Don’t look, Jack, but there they are.~


~Barry, if you look, I have to look. That’s them, huh? You aren’t planning on doing anything… dumb, are you?~


Even though Savage had asked, they both knew that Tarberry’s body wasn’t up to any excessive physical exertions; masking pain only went so far. Savage couldn’t prevent broken bones, ripped stitches, or bleeding from a deep gash or a gaping wound. He could only hasten the healing process, and shore up Barry’s failing strength.


~No… as I may have mentioned before, I prefer brains over brawn. Of course, I have an abundance of both…~ Black Jack scowled, and Barry picked up the conveniently placed telephone at their table. “Yes, Governor General Vasquez, please… Abel? Barry Tarberry… Yeah, yeah, well forget what they told you, and listen to what I’m telling you… I have it on good authority that the two gunmen who tricked you – they did trick you, didn’t they, Abel?… Yeah, thought so. Anyway, both of them are in the lounge bar of the Vasquez Hilton.

“Their names are Carlo Santelli and John Edwards. Both have warrants out on them in New Jersey and Chicago… In the USA, Abel; where else are you going to find New Jersey???…

“This is your chance to be a hero, Abel, a real hero… Not to mention collecting the sizable reward being offered for their capture and conviction, which I will personally double… Yeah, thought that might interest you… Get a couple dozen of your soldiers over there and let’s wrap this thing up, okay?… Yeah, great doing business with you, too.” He hung up and smiled, inwardly.


~Okay, okay, you’re armed,~ Black Jack grudgingly conceded, ~with power, and knowing the right people. Or should I say paying the right people?~


~Whatever gets the job done, Jack; whatever it takes…~


In less than five minutes, it seemed a whole platoon of Vasquez’s personal guards were ushered into the lounge bar by the somewhat flustered manager. The gunmen’s table was surrounded with several high-powered rifles pointed at their heads. They surrendered without a shot being fire, but not quietly. They were led out amid loud threats of U.S. retaliation, their power and standing in New York with certain important individuals, and the ever-ready offer of bribes. All of which fell on deaf ears; these soldiers weren’t Vasquez’s personal guards for nothing – they were all related to the General, they were well paid, and they neither spoke nor understood English.


Tarberry felt Black Jack’s amazement. ~ I don’t believe it, Barry. That was almost too easy.~


~Sometimes…the most volatile situation can be solved simply… especially if our side has high-caliber, automatic weapons…~ Weakness crept steadily over Tarberry, draining him of strength and will. It wasn’t painful, but that didn’t make it any less frightening; he felt as if he was being drawn down into a black, whirling vortex… ~Jack… I’m not feeling too well…~


~Don’t I know it~ Savage felt the first pangs of fear. The physical and emotional stress had been too much – just as he had warned it would be; it was too much, too soon. He’d have to get Barry back to the hospital; at this rate, if Tarberry collapsed, it was a good bet they’d both die. ~C’mon, let’s grab a taxi and get you back to the hospital. Can you make it?~


~Yeah… I-I think so…~ Barry could sense Black Jack’s real concern as the pirate lent his own strength and will in getting them both back to the lobby and outside where the line of taxis waited at the curb. He felt exhausted, and mentally and physically ‘leaned’ on Black Jack for strength and support. It was the first time in his life that he had ever depended on anyone so thoroughly.


It was a comforting, yet scary, feeling…



~*~*~*~


“Mr. Tarberry, whatever possessed you to just get up and walk out of the hospital like that?” The Head Nurse, Robbins, asked in exasperation as she directed the other nurses and intern. “Don’t you realize that you’re a long way from being able to get up and do as you please?”


“Sorry, Nurse,” he apologized weakly, “but I was just so tired of lying here, I just thought I’d go for a short walk. You know, just stretch my legs a bit…?” He smiled up at her, the smile that could melt the hardest feminine heart.


And it melted this one, as her features softened and she shook her head, smiling in return. Barry’s satisfaction was dampened a bit by Savage’s groan. ~I’ll never understand this…this effect that you have on women of all ages, Tarberry.~ Barry chuckled, not answering.


“Well,” Robbins continued, relenting in her own fashion, “other than nearly exhausting yourself to the point of collapse, there seems to be little harm done. But,” she went on, giving him a significant look, “you try this again, before Dr. Blackthorn gives his okay, and I’ll have you strapped down to that bed. Understand?”


Black Jack interrupted before Tarberry could answer, ~Watch it, Barry; I think she’s got the hots for you.~




Ignoring him, the patient gave the Head Nurse a properly subdued look. “Yes, M’am. I’ll stay right here, no problem.”



XVII

The next day, an hour before visiting hours were over, Logan Murphy came in as Danielle was leaving. One look at her radiant face told Murphy all he needed – but not necessarily wanted – to know. Oh, well, he shrugged, the best guy may not have won, but the best looking certainly had. The story of his life…


He sat down in the only other chair in the private room. “Hi, Mr. Tarberry. You’re looking a whole lot better today.” His smile was a bit strained, but he doubted that Barry would notice. He pulled a paperback book from the small sack he was carrying. “Here, thought you might like something to read while you’re here. I’ve heard that it’s a really neat book.”


Tarberry read the title, “Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Business, But Were Afraid To Ask, by Mark McCormack …”


Black Jack laughed, ~St. Murphy obviously thinks you’re lacking in business acumen.~


~“McCormack… guy’s an amateur…”~


“And,” Murphy went on, almost in a rush, “I’ve got the new, improved Snark Catcher with me. Do you want me to leave it here, or take it out to the Castle?”


It took a moment for the words to sink in. “You’re giving it to me? Just like that? Even though I haven’t paid you for it yet?” Tarberry was both surprised and suspicious.


“Yeah, well… I’ve had some time to think, this past week or so… especially having lived your life – more or less. I always thought you had everything so easy, so… uncomplicated. That everybody bent over backwards to please you. Well,” he admitted, shrugging, “I guess I figured that about all rich people. But it’s not really like that, is it? At least, not for you. All the time I was there at the Castle, all the people who called or came by—not one of them asked how you were, not one of them cared if—” He broke off, not sure how to continue, then resumed, “Then I realized that with all your money, and power, and everything you have, you really don’t have anyone—anyone who really cares, that is. Except Miss St. Claire, of course, and, I guess,” he added sheepishly, “…me.


“I trust you, Mr. Tarberry. I know you’ll pay me when you can. And if there’s anything else you need for me to do, just say it.”


~Well, Barry, I certainly hope you’re feeling properly chastised.~


~Shut up, Jack.~ Although he had to admit he was feeling a bit… guilty. And when he started to speak, he was horrified to find the words that came out weren’t his; Savage took over, effectively shoving him aside mentally. “Logan, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for everything you’ve already done. And since you went to all the trouble of bringing the Snark-Catcher here, just leave it in the trunk of my car. You still have the money in the footlocker?”


~Footlocker???~ Tarberry broke in, and was ignored.


“Yeah, all safe and sound.”


“Good. Then just take whatever I owe you, and add a thousand dollar bonus for yourself for a job well done.”


~Jack, a thousand dollars!?! Are you crazy?!~


“No,” Black Jack continued smoothly with Barry’s voice, “Make that twenty-five hundred. It’s the least I can do.”


“Geez, Mr. Tarberry, thanks. Thanks a lot.” Chimes sounded the end of Visiting Hours, and Murphy headed out the door in something of a daze. “Wow… now I can get the power booster for the ion generator, and…” His voice trailed off as he left.


~You’re awfully damn free with my money, you…Pirate!~


~He earned it. Not to mention that he was one of two – maybe three – people who were genuinely concerned about you; and not because of your money, either. And after the way you treated him…


~I oughtta give him five thousand dollars…!~


~All right, all right, you made your point.~ There was silence for a moment, then, ~So, who’s the third person?~


~What?~


~You said ‘one of two, or three, people who were concerned’ about me. Who’s the third one?~


~I figure there must be one more, somewhere.~ Savage answered evasively.


~Yeah, right, probably closer than you think.~ Another silence, longer this time. And the tone was introspective when he continued, ~Jack… it’s not easy for me to trust anyone. I’ve learned to regret it too many times. And after a while, I decided to keep my distance – figuratively speaking. I lived by the Platinum Rule: Take advantage of them before they take advantage of me. It got to be second nature; I don’t even think about it anymore. And, I got to where I didn’t think about other people, anymore… not any less, but not any more, either…


~Sometimes… I think I’d like to change, and then I come to my senses and realize I can’t change…not without help. I’ve never asked anything from anyone, learned not to expect anything from anyone… not without them getting something, usually more, in return.


~But… you saved my life, Jack, and got little or nothing in return. So, if there’s some way – any way – that I can return the favor…~


Black Jack cringed, knowing now that he could never go through with his earlier thought, knowing now that he could never take something that morally wasn’t his. It was bad enough that Logan Murphy, in his roundabout way, had pointed that out to him; but to have Barry do so as well, without even being aware of it…


To have the arrogant, self-serving, egotistical financier admit to him that he needed a friend…


~Jack…~ Barry interrupted his mental guilt trip, ~are you still there?~


~Yeah, I’m still here – I was just thinking… And, well, to be honest, there is one – or two – things I’ve really missed…


~So, if you’re willing, maybe just a little favor…~



EPILOG


The small, rented yacht cut cleanly through the white-capped waves, her sails billowing in the brisk wind. The vessel, equipped with a gas engine, was easily manned by a crew of two. Barry Tarberry’s tall frame stood before the helm, guiding the yacht expertly through the deep-blue waters surrounding San Pietro, enjoying the exhilaration that only a ship could give. He smiled broadly as the wind whipped the sails, and turned the prow into the waves. There was, he decided, only one thing better than having a good ship under you—


As if reading his thoughts, a feminine voice came from the stateroom door. “Jaaccck… Will it be much longer? I’m waiting…”


The grin broadened as he headed for a quiet, secluded inlet; yep, only one thing better…


~Thanks, Barry…~


~Anytime, Jack, anytime…~


FINI…