In a vengeful quest, Jeremiah Stone kidnaps a member of the mob and incurs the wrath of both God and the Devil. Within a days, he’s had to make some hard choices concerning the lives of others, cheated certain death a half dozen times through both luck and skill, and used up almost every favor he’d ever gained. All of which put him in his current position, treading the line of love and hate with the object of his affections caught somewhere in the middle. Life never turns out as planned, he thought frowning internally. So contemplating his situation and realizing he had no choice but to continue, Jeremiah reached into his backpack. Pulling forth a piece of paper, he handed it to NYPD Captain Eric Hallaman.
“What’s this,” Eric asked.
“Consider it my last will and testament,” Jeremiah answered. Then, without waiting for a response, he took two quick strides and leapt towards the other rooftop leaving the captain alone with Opus. Halfway across the span between buildings, Jeremiah heard bullets plunk into the ledge behind him while other whizzed past his head. Nothing like leaping out of the pan and into the fire, Jeremiah thought, as the night swallowed him.
Would it matter if he knew his soul is caught in a divine bet between God and the Devil, both of whom denied his death in the first place? And it is death that he desires.
For a second, tension hung thick in the air as men appraised each other, though Jeremiah remained focused. He was here for the man at the back of the booth, nobody else, and it showed as the two bodyguards hesitated for just a moment. They didn’t know Jeremiah, though they’d probably heard of him because most everyone on this side of the law had at one time or another. For now, however, they left Jeremiah alone hoping their bulk would dissuade any possible threat. Jeremiah, on the other hand, wasn’t impressed. He knew their type, had already appraised their skills, and knew neither of them were a match for him. In this business it was all about respect and you never acknowledge someone beneath you unless it was on your terms. And these men were far beneath him, to the point he would squash them like the bugs they were if he had too.
While continuing not to give the men beside him a glance of recognition, Jeremiah asked the man at the rear of the booth, “Are you Zygi Wolf?”
“What of it?” Zygi answered dismissively.
“Do you know who I am?” Jeremiah asked.
“Should I?” Zygi replied, barely taking his attention off the two young women with him.
“You might. I’m Jeremiah Stone.”
This time everyone’s attention snapped to the man before them, even as the guards involuntarily took a half step back. The only ones not paying attention now were the two women Zygi was engaged with, but even their gaze turned to Jeremiah as they realized everyone else had become intensely serious. Eyes darted between bodyguards, though no action was taken as if they knew it would be useless. Finally the man at the rear of the booth spoke, almost with humor.
“You can’t be! Jeremiah’s dead!”
“I was, but now I’m back,” Jeremiah responded, his face losing all emotion. “You could be dead too if you don’t come with me now.”
Zygi’s face went blank for a second before it filled with questions. “You’re not here to kill me?”
“No,” Jeremiah answered surprised that the man seemed to remain so casual in this situation as if he was somehow protected whether his guards stood beside him or not. “As strange as it may sound, I’m here to save your sorry ass.”
“But I thought you were a killer?”