6 - Caomhnóir – Manny

 

 

“Ah, home sweet home,” Manny said as he led Alasdair into his loft.

 

“And quite an interesting one,” Alasdair commented as he surveyed the living area. “I think I can state unequivocally that I have never seen sixteenth and seventeenth works of art displayed against a graffiti background. Who is the painter?”

 

“That would be me. One of the less useful but more interesting skills I learned during my tenure with Cerdic.”

 

“You have an intriguing way with a spray can.” He stopped suddenly in front of a small portrait. “Good heavens, boy, is this an Antonis Mor?”

 

“Yes. I’m afraid I came by it somewhat illegally, but then so did the man I liberated it from. He was a philistine who had no real appreciation for art, only for the money he could get from it.”

 

Alasdair continued his perusal of the canvases, asking as he did, “All of these you ‘liberated’ as you put it?”

 

“No,” Manny replied with a chuckle, “some of them I came by quite legitimately. When you’ve lived as long as I have you accumulate wealth. I happen to like collecting certain pieces of art. So, I do.”

 

“Fair enough.” With a nod, Alasdair turned to look at Manny. “Now, down to business, but first sit, please. You are still are not up to par.” Once Manny had done as requested, Alasdair continued. “I am worried, as is Sofietje, that the Scriostóir was able to find you so easily at the hotel.”

 

“Doesn’t make my day either,” Manny admitted. “I certainly didn’t leave any footprints, at least that I’m aware of.”

 

“There’s the rub—that you are aware of. The man must know his way around computers and the internet. Perhaps he was cleverer than you thought. Him or one of his people. What’s to say he won’t start the whole operation up again?”

 

“He won’t. I made quite sure of that. What I’m wondering is, did he somehow know I was in town. If he did he probably figured I was the one who shut him down.”

 

“If that is the case, then we have a leak unless you told someone where you were going. Even then—" Alasdair shook his head.

 

“All I said to anyone was that I was heading south, not where.”

 

“To whom?”

 

“One of the men at the house, and then the boys when they asked if I was sticking around.”

 

“I see. A man who, I would presume, worked for Cerdic. Yes, Sofietje filled me in on everything when she asked for my assistance with you.”

 

Manny cocked an eyebrow. “Does this mean you’re mijn commandant while I’m here?”

 

“Indeed I am. Your first task, once you are one hundred percent again, is to find out if this man you mentioned was more than just Cerdic’s employee.”

 

“Which I’d bet means that I go back to the house. I wonder if they need help.”

 

“That, boy, is something you will have to find out. I rather doubt you’d be able to move back in as one of the charges now.”

 

“No shit. Okay, I’ll see what I can come up with.”

5 - Caomhnóir – Manny

 

 

“You’re one lucky young man. By rights you should be in the morgue, not here,” a man said.

 

Warily, Manny opened his eyes then closed them again to shut out the light. “Where’s ‘here’?” he asked hoarsely.

 

“General Hospital, and not the one on television, the real thing,” a second man said from the other side of the bed.

 

“Figures. Where’s Rick Springfield when I need eye candy.”

 

There was a low chuckle. “Guess he’ll live if his mind’s going in that direction. If you need me, I’ll be right outside.”

 

Manny heard a door open then close and opened his eyes again, expecting to see a cop or a doctor, he wasn’t certain which, still in the room. Instead he saw a man with a mane of tawny gold hair sitting at the side of his bed. “Let me guess, you’re a friend of Sofietje’s.”

 

“Associate. I’ve never actually met her. She asked me to come rescue you from the jaws of whatever trouble you seem to have attracted. My name is Alasdair.”

 

“Heard of you, of course. You gonna get me out of here?”

 

“I am. Officially, as far as they’re concerned, I’m your private physician, sent by your parents to whisk you away from the big bad city before someone else tries to mug you.”

 

“That’s the story? That I was mugged on the fourth floor of a hotel?” Manny snorted softly.

 

“Since another person saw most of what happened, yes. They heard shots and strangely enough actually looked into the hallway to see if someone was in trouble. They saw a man bending over you. Then he ran to the fire stairs with your bag and laptop case in hand. Is he going to find anything we should worry about when he turns the laptop on?”

 

“Naw. Just a wiped hard drive unless he knows the password, and believe me no one could figure it out on the first try.”

 

“Good. What I don’t understand is how they found you.”

 

“What says someone found me? It really could have been a mugging.”

 

Alasdair reached into his pocket, pulling out an envelope. “This was found on you,” he told Manny, handing it to him.

 

“Ouch,” Manny said when he’d read the brief message. “Looks like I’ve made another enemy. Lucky me.”

 

“At least he doesn’t know your real name or, I would say, what you are.”

 

“The name, probably not, but he’d be real stupid not to know who targeted him and why. So,” Manny pushed himself erect, wincing in pain for a moment before tamping it down, “let’s get me gone before he starts checking hospitals for gunshot victims.”

 

“And before the doctors realize you are healing much too quickly.”

4 - Caomhnóir – Manny

 

 

As he sat at his laptop in a monotonously decorated hotel room in a city south of the Mason-Dixon Line, Manny’s thoughts returned to Hamlin and the fact that he’d seemingly vanished to who knew where. Manny knew he should be concentrating of finding the man who called himself ‘Dr. Help’, an on-line therapist with a huge worldwide following. ‘Dr. Help’ was far from helping many of those people who came to his site with problems. In point of fact, the man behind the name was a Scriostóir who had come up with a unique way to stir up trouble.

 

The Scriostóir ran his site out of a house in one of the more affluent communities of the city. A house so well secured that even if the authorities were aware of just what he was doing, they would have been unable to gain access either legally or illegally.

 

Manny’s job was to stop ‘Dr. Help’ by whatever means possible. If he managed to kill him in the process, so much the better, although he knew that would probably not happen. He’d lost his taste for assassination many years ago, and the battle that ended with Cerdic’s death had only reinforced it.

 

Forcing himself to start concentrating on the job, he studied the files he had collected plus the ones Sofietje had sent him. It was then that he realized he didn’t have to have a face-to-face with ‘Dr. Help’. Manny might look, and often act, like an eighteen-year-old, but since he’d been around a hell of a lot longer than that, he knew more about computers, everything involved with them and how to use them, than most people.

 

Hell, he’d been around when Turing had come up with the machine that had paved the way for the modern computer. He’d followed the progression from that on through to the transistor-based machines with a layman’s interest. Then he’d become hooked, learning all that he could, carrying it beyond what the average person knew, and didn’t know, about how to use and manipulate information. In other words, he’d become an expert hacker, although it had been a while since he’d put his skills to use. Three plus years to be exact.

 

“Okay, ‘Doc’,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s see what I can do to fuck things up for you big time.”

 

* * * *

 

Two days later, Manny was packing up to head back to New York. He’d decided, with Sofietje’s permission, to make the city his home base for the next nine months rather than returning to his apartment in Rotterdam. She understood why he needed to be there. When she finally gave in to his request he’d said, “Who would have thought that a Witte Wieven could be a romantic.” He could almost see her rolling her eyes in response as her soft laughter echoed on his phone.

 

The Scriostóir’s operation had been brought down. No longer would ‘Dr. Help’ be manipulating unwary humans who turned to him for on-line therapy, destroying their dignity and doing his best to traumatize them even more under the guise of trying to help them overcome their problems.

 

“I done good,” he muttered as he closed the hotel room door behind him and started down the hall to the elevator.

 

“Too damned good,” a man’s voice said, just before two shots rang out, throwing Manny back against the wall. As he slid down to the floor he felt something fall into his lap. Then darkness overtook him.

3 - Caomhnóir – Manny

 

 

A month had passed since Manny last saw the house that had belonged to Cerdic. “And it hasn’t changed in the least,” he commented under his breath, and then laughed. “Of course it hasn’t.”

 

“Talking to yourself?” a familiar voice asked from behind him.

 

Manny swung around and smiled. “Bad habit I know, Gebhard.”

 

“Are you back to stay now?” Gebhard opened the front door, waiting for Manny to enter.

 

“No. I’m on my way south but I couldn’t come through the city and not stop to say hello to everyone.”

 

“Manny!” Jakie shouted, racing down to the foyer the second he spotted him at the bottom of the stairs.

 

“Hey, kid. How goes?” Manny said, reverting to character as he ruffled Jakie’s hair.

 

“Better now that you’re here. You sticking around?”

 

“I wish, but I can’t. Places to go, things to do you know.” With a smile, Manny allowed Jakie to pull him up the stairs to the living room. “So where’s everyone?” he asked, seeing the room was empty and not hearing the usual voices.

 

“Mr. Shadrick took them on an outing to the museum. I couldn’t go 'cause I’m sick.”

 

“You sure as hell don’t act sick. What’s wrong with you?”

 

Standing on tiptoe, Jakie whispered conspiratorially, “Nothing. I just didn’t want to go so I said my stomach hurt.”

 

Manny chuckled. “Brat. So everyone went including Hamlin?”

 

“Not Hamlin. He left.”

 

“He what?” Manny shot a look at Gebhard, who nodded. “Why?”

 

“He didn’t say exactly why,” Gebhard replied. “Just that there was something he had to do.”

 

“Did he say where he was going, or when he’s coming back?”

 

“No. He just packed up and took off.”

 

“Damn him,” Manny growled angrily. “He could at least have—“

 

He was interrupted by the sounds of many footsteps coming up the stairs. Then the boys flooded into the room, surrounding him with bodies and words all spoken at once as they greeted him. In the bedlam that ensued, Manny had no chance to think about what he’d just learned as the boys fed him with questions and told him about everything that had happened since he’d left.

2 - Caomhnóir – Manny

 

 

“Too long indeed,” Manny agreed. “Three years to bring down Cerdic. But it was worth it.”

 

With a nod of agreement, Sofietje said, “I am relieved that you completed your mission successfully, and surprised that he and his people did not realize that you hadn’t aged, to be quite honest.”

 

Manny shrugged. “I am good at what I do and know how to fool people, especially humans.”

 

“Even your lover?”

 

“Even Hamlin, yes. So far.” He took a deep breath and then asked, “Are you sending me back soon?”

 

“Now you know that I can’t do that for another nine months. Or did you mean back to the States?”

 

“Both, I suppose.”

 

Sofietje twisted a strand of her long, white hair around her finger as she thought about that. “To be truthful, I am not certain it would be wise to give you a task that would keep you close to this Hamlin. On the other hand, if I don’t then you will be distracted, thinking of him. Give me a day and I shall let you know what I decide.”

 

“Fair enough. Do you need me for anything else at the moment?”

 

Sofietje chuckled. “No. Go out on the town. Be yourself for a while. Be young and alive, but behave.”

 

“Behave? Now what fun is that?” Manny’s lips quirked up in a grin for the first time since he’d returned to Rotterdam.

 

“Manfred,” Sofietje growled. Then she laughed. “You know what I mean. I do not want to have to bail you out like the last time.”

 

“Then come with me. We can do up the town together.”

 

“While I would enjoy that, I don’t think it would be wise. I might be tempted to deal with some rude young man in ways that would be hard to explain to those around us.”

 

“Yeah. Turning one into a dog might not be your wisest move.”

 

“Indeed,” she replied with a laugh. “So go, have fun, and report back here this time tomorrow.”