Cobra De Capello

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Zachary Fellini, standing on Nathaniel Balder's second story terrace, realized his friend's art purchase complemented his personal sanctuary. The sculpture's rusty colors, lines, and textures contrasted well with the dense foliage that nearly encompassed the home. From this angle, the poles appeared abstract, rising from a ground-level garden, not interfering with Nathaniel's resplendent views of the bay. Oriented toward the southeast, all of the rooms faced the distant Treasure Island and San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. Closer, and to the left, was Angel Island, Belvedere Island, and Tiburon. To the right, Alcatraz Island and the North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco.

"I had my doubts seeing it by the lagoon," Zachary said, "but it belongs up here. The piece is a good fit, apart from even knowing the private meaning it must have for you."

"As always, I appreciate your candor," Nathaniel replied. "I think the meaning is apparent enough that I don't need to verbalize it. This place is my home base. My refuge for healing. My quiet retreat."

"You probably violated a hundred state and local codes having the helicopter deliver it here."

"Ah, who cares? It was the quickest and most efficient way to transport it. Nobody could find me and give me a ticket even if they tried."

Zachary agreed with his friend's assertion. Nathaniel's home, tightly burrowed in the trees and foliage, existed like an optical illusion to any neighbors. While most of the other hillside homes were near the streets, Nathaniel's entry was a nondescript driveway that slithered around a bend and out of view. Anyone entering would be startled to suddenly come upon an iron gate attached to a hut where two armed guards were stationed with a console of security cameras.

"What about your own oasis?" Nathaniel asked. "You have to make a change."

"I know I do," Zachary answered. "What are your thoughts?"

Zachary followed Nathaniel down to a deck Nathaniel used for lazy reading or secret discussions. Its base and walls were weathered planks from a ship that had sunk off the Sausalito coast a century ago. The men leaned back on lounge chairs and heard nothing but the creaking of old wood, the rustle of leaves, and the pleasant rhythms of birds and insects in the forest-like perimeter.

"Get out of Phoenix entirely," Nathaniel said. "No matter how much you love the city, you will always be looking over your shoulder. Your assumption should be that all of my enemies could be trying to find you there."

"I am leaning toward that," Zachary responded, concurring that he could no longer feel safe in the Scottsdale condominium that had been recently exposed to Nathaniel's primary nemesis during a s****l encounter with a bodyguard.

"Don't lean. Do it."

"Nowhere else feels like home. It's a big decision for me and I don't want to continuously move between rental homes."

"Buy one of these houses up here," Nathaniel said. "Be my neighbor."

"These estates are a fortune," Zachary replied.

"You can afford it."

"I enjoy visiting San Francisco and the bay area, Nate. Who wouldn't love waking up every day to the view you have, whether sunny, like today, or shrouded in fog? I know this is your paradise. But it would not feel like home to me."

"All right, go back to warmer temperatures, but you are slashing your options down unnecessarily."

"For fights, press, and media, it is best to be near Las Vegas anyway," Zachary noted.

"As long as you remain out west, everything is close to Vegas. Just a one-hour plane ride or so away. You have to stretch your horizons. Like Phoenix, living in Palm Springs or the outskirts of Las Vegas, like I used to, would have similar problems for you with our enemies and opponents."

"But look at your home, Nate. I think you prove that a sanctuary can be hidden anywhere."

"No, an asylum can be hidden anywhere. There is a big difference between a sanctuary and an asylum. You have to remember our world, our fighting subculture, is a mental contest. Acquiring a sense of security is a vital requirement."

"I agree. You know I do."

"You can become the world middleweight champion, Zach," Nathaniel stated. "It is not one fight. It is a series of clever decisions and lifestyle choices, in tandem with exact mental conditioning—you must never waver from your hunger to win—and unexpected physicality."

"If anyone knows what it takes, you do," Zachary replied.

Nathaniel fiddled with the ends of his mustache, twisted his leg inward, and reached his fingers inside his leg cast to scratch an acute itch.

"I have healed from so many injuries, both major and minor, but something is different this time," Nathaniel said. "For the first time in my life, I am consumed with a different type of longing."

"You have always been a horny bastard," Zachary laughed.

"The longing is not for s*x. It's for a partner. Someone to share all of this with. I find myself daydreaming about a guy—someone who has nothing whatsoever to do with fighting or sports or media—and building a relationship with him."

"You are lonely? With all of these bodyguards?"

"It's not the same," Nathaniel countered. "Not even close."

"True," Zachary agreed. "But there will be plenty of time for true love and all that syrupy stuff once your career is over."

"You don't think I can fall in love with someone and maintain the required mental acumen to regain my title belt?"

"No, Nate. You just reminded me about staying desperately hungry for victory. If you fall head over heels for some dude, you are going to get all soft and smoochy, gain weight, descend into jealous tantrums, and lose your focus. That's the real truth."

"I am not convinced you are right," Nathaniel responded.

"You are considering early retirement?" Zachary asked.

"Hell no."

"Then don't confuse your desire for s****l conquests with fantasies about melodramatic romance."

"I won't argue with you," Nathaniel said. "Each man, each person, must make an individual choice. We have previously debated your notions about the benefits of promiscuity. I am not in your life to change you. I appreciate you as an unconditional friend. I never want to lose that. Continue hooking up with guys, if that is what you must do for yourself. But fair warning that your best friend here might be tangled up in a love match—all squishy and sappy, as you speculated—and I will want your continuing support, not your disapproval."

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