checkmate. But what if the king does not mind dying?”
“Then we have one thing in common.” I kept the AK trained on his face.
“If you shoot me, they most definitely will shoot him.” He tilted his head toward Gregor, who shrugged indifferently. “How delightfully stoic, brave heroes to the end.”
“Fuck this noise.” Pivoting, I pulled the trigger. Blood exploded from the knee of the man holding a rifle on Gregor. As he fell, Gregor grabbed his second guard by the collar and ran him headfirst into the wall. Before the echo of the shot died, all were down and I again was aimed at the old man. He hadn’t moved an inch, he simply watched it go down.
“Nicely played. I seem to have underestimated your brute desire to win,” he said.
After Gregor tied the goon squad up, he went down to get Anya. I had a little chat with the old man. If his turn of fortune had shaken him, he sure was hiding it well. “Young man, you have truly stuck your head into the proverbial hornets’ nest. The odds of your surviving the next forty-eight hours are less than zero.”
“Maybe I should deep six you and walk away.”
“That is what I, if in your cheap shoes, would most certainly do. But it would not change your fate. From this moment forth, no hole will be deep enough nor distant enough for you to hide in.”
“Where is Anya’s sister?”
“Quite honestly, I have no knowledge, nor desire for any, of the girl’s whereabouts.”
The report of my rifle exploded into the still room. The bullet ripped into the club chair’s leather inches from his head, kicking soft tufts of stuffing onto his cheek. He looked from the hole to me without fear.
“Game’s over, motherfucker.” My ears were ringing from the shot.
“On the contrary, the game is just now beginning. Get your little slut and get off my property, your histrionics are starting to bore me.”
I wanted so badly to splatter his smirking face across his lovely chair. But that would be wrong, and more importantly, stupid. Never make a bold play until you know the rules of the game. I had made that mistake by stumbling in here, no need to compound it.
After sweeping the mansion and binding all the occupants, we left through the front door. Anya had emerged from the basement, wearing a deep green velvet dress that made her eyes sparkle. She had matching green heels, expertly applied make-up and her lips shone like fresh washed cherries. Even on the run she wanted to look her best.
At the car, Gregor had me pop the trunk. From under his greatcoat he pulled an AK47.
“A souvenir,” he said, and slammed the trunk closed.
“Did they tell you where my sister is?” Anya asked as we drove slowly down the quiet street.
“We’ll find her.”
“How? What have you done? If she dies, it will be your fault.” She was right, of course. Now a thirteen year old girl’s life depended on my next move. I needed to buy time, time to think, time to plan. I needed a drink.
Borrowing Gregor’s cloned and untraceable cell phone, I called Lowrie at home. He was an LAPD homicide detective, and the only cop I trusted. I roused him from deep slumber, but years on the job trained him to snap to alertness regardless of the hour. After busting my balls for waking him, we got to it. I gave him the mansion’s address and told him he would find a basement full of trafficked Russian girls, illegal weapons and hog tied Russian mobsters.
“And this involves homicide how?” he asked.
“Preventive, you don’t do something about it, there will be a murder, I’m sure of it.”
“But not by you, right?”
“Never, you know me, John Q Law-Abider.”
“I have a friend on the Russian mob task force, any chance you’ll talk to them?” He already knew the answer but he had to ask.
“I wasn’t even there.”
“And if the Russians say different?”
“Then they’re liars.” If they could ID me, I wouldn’t have dropped the dime. I told Lowrie I’d call him the next day
“Then we have one thing in common.” I kept the AK trained on his face.
“If you shoot me, they most definitely will shoot him.” He tilted his head toward Gregor, who shrugged indifferently. “How delightfully stoic, brave heroes to the end.”
“Fuck this noise.” Pivoting, I pulled the trigger. Blood exploded from the knee of the man holding a rifle on Gregor. As he fell, Gregor grabbed his second guard by the collar and ran him headfirst into the wall. Before the echo of the shot died, all were down and I again was aimed at the old man. He hadn’t moved an inch, he simply watched it go down.
“Nicely played. I seem to have underestimated your brute desire to win,” he said.
After Gregor tied the goon squad up, he went down to get Anya. I had a little chat with the old man. If his turn of fortune had shaken him, he sure was hiding it well. “Young man, you have truly stuck your head into the proverbial hornets’ nest. The odds of your surviving the next forty-eight hours are less than zero.”
“Maybe I should deep six you and walk away.”
“That is what I, if in your cheap shoes, would most certainly do. But it would not change your fate. From this moment forth, no hole will be deep enough nor distant enough for you to hide in.”
“Where is Anya’s sister?”
“Quite honestly, I have no knowledge, nor desire for any, of the girl’s whereabouts.”
The report of my rifle exploded into the still room. The bullet ripped into the club chair’s leather inches from his head, kicking soft tufts of stuffing onto his cheek. He looked from the hole to me without fear.
“Game’s over, motherfucker.” My ears were ringing from the shot.
“On the contrary, the game is just now beginning. Get your little slut and get off my property, your histrionics are starting to bore me.”
I wanted so badly to splatter his smirking face across his lovely chair. But that would be wrong, and more importantly, stupid. Never make a bold play until you know the rules of the game. I had made that mistake by stumbling in here, no need to compound it.
After sweeping the mansion and binding all the occupants, we left through the front door. Anya had emerged from the basement, wearing a deep green velvet dress that made her eyes sparkle. She had matching green heels, expertly applied make-up and her lips shone like fresh washed cherries. Even on the run she wanted to look her best.
At the car, Gregor had me pop the trunk. From under his greatcoat he pulled an AK47.
“A souvenir,” he said, and slammed the trunk closed.
“Did they tell you where my sister is?” Anya asked as we drove slowly down the quiet street.
“We’ll find her.”
“How? What have you done? If she dies, it will be your fault.” She was right, of course. Now a thirteen year old girl’s life depended on my next move. I needed to buy time, time to think, time to plan. I needed a drink.
Borrowing Gregor’s cloned and untraceable cell phone, I called Lowrie at home. He was an LAPD homicide detective, and the only cop I trusted. I roused him from deep slumber, but years on the job trained him to snap to alertness regardless of the hour. After busting my balls for waking him, we got to it. I gave him the mansion’s address and told him he would find a basement full of trafficked Russian girls, illegal weapons and hog tied Russian mobsters.
“And this involves homicide how?” he asked.
“Preventive, you don’t do something about it, there will be a murder, I’m sure of it.”
“But not by you, right?”
“Never, you know me, John Q Law-Abider.”
“I have a friend on the Russian mob task force, any chance you’ll talk to them?” He already knew the answer but he had to ask.
“I wasn’t even there.”
“And if the Russians say different?”
“Then they’re liars.” If they could ID me, I wouldn’t have dropped the dime. I told Lowrie I’d call him the next day
Similar Books
