The Hitman: Dirty Rotters

by Sean McKenzie

  Reality wasn’t my friend.

  It came back to me then, stomping out the fires of my childhood memories with its cold, icy feet, stripping my protective wings off and leaving me as helpless and vulnerable as the child I wished I still was.

  Vladimir moved behind me. Chains scraped the metal floor in the darkness before me. I couldn’t see the tiger. But it was close. I could follow the sound of its breathing as it paced back and forth.

  “Mother Russia is dark place. Cold and hard. My people are strong. Not like soft Americans.” Vladimir was talking behind me. I heard the scraping of steel against a stone. A blade was being sharpened. “It is bad night vor you, my comrade. You see no more dawn.”

  I looked around, gathered my wits and tried to figure a way out. I saw the crowbar a few feet away lying against the wall. The duffel bags were stacked in front of me. The door was wide open to my right. I could taste blood in my mouth and the vision in my left eye was blurry. My head was throbbing. My hands were tied behind me and I sat on the cold floor.

  It was in those first few minutes that I believed it was over. I had failed. I had been beaten more times in the head with blunt objects than I could recall. My entire body ached. I couldn’t see well. I didn’t feel well. I was tired in a way that sleep wouldn’t be enough to satisfy. I needed something greater. I needed to die.

  Vladimir punched me in the face. Blood flew from my mouth. My lips were cut, and they stung as sweat and blood ran across them. My eyes watered terribly.

  Vladimir stood in front of me holding a long machete. He made motions with it as if he were cutting my eyes out. He laughed, then discarded it. It clanked against the floor. Even in the dark I could see his grin, devilish and cold. “I do not have the time to cut her meat vor her. Sometimes kitty like to do it herself.”

  More laughing.

  More wishing I was dead.

  The chains holding the tiger at bay were moving around quickly now. I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to see it coming. Instead, I closed my eyes and prayed.

  Have mercy. Make it quick. I tried.

  I heard the chains go taut, then they fell to the floor and began sliding back and forth in front of me. Vladimir spoke then, somewhere behind me.

  “Chains are strong.” Vladimir walked past me into the darkness. When he spoke again, the chains stopped moving, and I couldn’t see him. “It is time to veed.”

  Chains hit the floor. The tiger growled. Vladimir’s breathing quickened, he was struggling. He spoke to the tiger then, calming the wild animal. He was amused. “She is so strong! She is like the shark in the votter.”

  Vladimir stepped forward. He was walking the tiger like a dog on a leash. The chain was fastened to a collar around the tiger’s huge neck and wrapped around Vladimir’s left hand and up his forearm. The animal leapt at me, but he restrained her, leaving her extended with her front paws swiping the air in front of me, pulling her back until all fours were on the floor.

  “I am sorry, American. This night she does not vant to play. This night she vants to eat only.” He stepped closer. The tiger’s face was inches from my own. Vladimir held her back again, toying with me, teasing her.

  My hands were tied with rope behind me. I struggled to rise, to force my body to work in ways that it didn’t want to anymore. I frantically tried to free my hands, but it was useless. And the tiger lunged at me continuously. It was hungry and impatient.

  I was going to die.

  Vladimir began unraveling the chain from his left hand. The tiger reached closer. Claws swiped at my face within inches. I felt a hot explosion of air as it growled viciously. Vladimir walked it around me and stopped behind me where I couldn’t see them.

  “She vill bite your neck now, American. Goodbye.”

  I closed my eyes.

  I sighed deeply.

  The gunshot was loud and unexpected. It sounded like a cannon blast in the still night. I jumped and screamed.

  I saw Vladimir stumble down almost immediately. Frank stood in the doorway, smoking gun in hand.

  “Get out of there!”

  Vladimir hit the floor yelling in pain, grabbing his right thigh where his pant leg was soaked red with blood. The tiger tore loose and went straight for me. It was a giant blur of movements in the darkness. I dove out of the way as the tiger came barreling at me, swiping razor sharp claws at my face. I picked up the machete and tried to cut my hands free. But there was no time. I turned, but the chain was still wrapped around Vladimir’s arm and hand, keeping the tiger tugging for freedom.

  I rolled onto my feet near the door and left nothing behind. I moved as fast as I could while Frank tugged the giant door closed. I could hear the tiger give pursuit behind me, dragging Vladimir with it. I could almost feel its warm breath on my neck as I dove out the open door just as Frank shut it closed. I hit the cold, solid ground and tumbled. Vladimir’s screams filled the boxcar before I gained my feet. I could only imagine what was taking place inside.

  A minute later, the only sounds were mine and Frank’s heavy breathing.

  “Frank! I didn’t think you were alive!” I moved closer to him as he left the door and used the machete to untie my hands. “I thought we were both dead!”

  “Thank me later,” he groaned. He was soaked in sweat, and blood that wasn’t his. He looked dead tired. He was exhausted and breathing hard. He had run all the way. He had never given up.

  “Believe me, I will.” I fed off his determination. “I know where they are. Let’s go.”

  We ran to the front of the train and climbed aboard. The conductor didn’t need much coaxing. One look from me, maybe one to the machete, maybe a glance at Frank’s badge, and he was up at the controls, awaiting my word.

  “Let’s go.”

  The conductor began to start the train. Frank said, “Where is she?”

  “The recycling center.”

  I gave the old man a look of confirmation and he nodded. I knew it. I should have known it all along though. As I filled in Frank with what I knew of the money and the women, the train came to life and we began moving forward, closer to the Red Square.

  It was ten past midnight.

  The conductor slowed the train down and Frank and I saw lights looming in the distance. Even from a hundred yards away I knew the size of the warehouses to be the recycling center where I first met Palo.

  The conductor pointed ahead. A few moments later he braked the train and we began slowing, coming to a stop at the backside of two large recycling buildings. In between them was the office. There was a long ramp in place from the asphalt to the train. I saw a black Rolls-Royce parked facing us in between the two warehouses. Its bright lights flared to life, shedding light across the ramp and the train. There were a few men dressed in black standing about that began to go into formation beside the Rolls.

  With the train at a dead stop, all eyes were on us.

  Then the driver of the Rolls stepped out. He walked back and opened the backdoor on the opposite side. Andrik stepped out. Slow and fat. A small red box in his hands. Crackers, no doubt.

  Andrik turned towards his men, made a hand motion briefly, then dumped a handful of crackers from the box into his wide mouth. His men split up. Two walked towards us, the other two jogged back to the office building forty yards back.

  “What’s the plan?” Frank asked.

  I shrugged. “There is no plan.”

  Frank growled, “I’m a cop. We make plans.”

  “I’m not a cop. I wing it.”

  Frank got right in my face. “I don’t know how you made it this far, but I’m not going to let you ruin this.”

  “Fine, we’ll wait ‘till they’re all out, then run out shooting.”

  “I have two bullets. Another idea like that, and I’ll be down to one.”

  “Then there is no plan. We’re going to have to wing it. Have faith, Frank. We’ve made it this far. We can make it the rest.”

  Frank made a fist. “You either got beat in the h
ead too many times, or not enough.”

  I gave Frank a hard look. “Listen, the two coming at us want the money. They’ll assure us that the women are fine and that they’ll be on their way in a moment. We lead them back to the money-”

  “I ain’t going in there with that tiger.”

  “Fine. They can open the door themselves. All we need to do is buy time for the women to get closer to us.”

  I looked away from Frank then. I had more important things to see. I kept my focus on the two Russian men approaching and hoped to God that I was right.

  “These guys have guns,” Frank whispered. “I wonder if they’re winging it.”

  I felt my face get hot. I forced my mouth shut and kept watching the two men heading our way. Uzis were slung around their shoulders. They approached the train casually though. I could almost make out smiles on their ugly mugs, and it seemed as if they were joking with each other. Maybe planning their night of celebrations.

  I never made those type of plans. Something always went wrong. Better to keep it simple. Go with the flow.

  “Send one of them back to get the money, then send the other one in here to me.” Frank said, then stepped back to the side, out of sight.

  The conductor opened the door and I stepped into view, my hood drawn over my head and shadow masked my face. I already figured that most of the Russians that saw me earlier were dead. I didn’t recognize these two. Still, I didn’t take much of a chance when they came within ten feet, stepping from the asphalt onto the gravel.

  The shorter one smiled and spoke in Russian. He said we were late and that they needed to hurry up and load the cars onto the train. He told us to drive forward to lineup the ramp with the flatbeds. The taller one asked where Vladimir was, then the money. I spoke in Russian and told the two men which boxcar had the money, and that Vladimir was behind me, pouring a round of vodka.

  They talked to one another for a moment, then the taller one walked towards the back of the train and the shorter one stepped forward. He was coming aboard. He wanted to talk to Vladimir. Or maybe a shot of vodka.

  I whispered to Frank, “Here he comes.”

  I stepped back out of the way. The Russian made his way up and in and was dropped like a rock before he noticed Frank’s fist flying out of the shadow.

  “Now you have a gun,” Frank said. “That’s planning.”

  I said nothing. I bent over and slid the Uzi off the man’s shoulder. I turned to the conductor and said, “Rope?”

  The conductor shook his head then produced a thick roll of duct tape. It would do. We taped up the Russian’s hands and feet and covered his mouth. I knew how much it was going to hurt peeling that tape off. It was going to be the least of his problems though. Frank’s punch had broken his jaw underneath his right cheek.

  “Where’s Sally?” Frank said.

  I looked out the door to the warehouse lot. “Look for yourself.”

  Frank turned from the shadow and peeked out beside me. We both stood looking at the line of women being escorted away from the smaller office building. I made out Palo easily enough, as well as Sally. Three other women walked as well, with Ivana bringing up the rear. They were all in new clothes, short skirts and skimpy tops. They were all dolled up, ready for sale.

  They were escorted over to Andrik’s side, then they stopped. All eyes on the train.

  Then through the parking lot came six luxurious vehicles. Shiny and expensive sport cars and large SUVs. Maybe close to a million dollars’ worth. They lined up in front of the ramp. The drivers exited and walked over to Andrik’s side.

  “Now what, Frank?”

  Frank gave me a wink. “Now we wing it.”

  Frank walked to the door and exited the train. I followed, one hand on the machete, the other pressing the Uzi close to my side. Frank had his cannon out and ready. He was huge and menacing. I kept at his side, watching the faces of those standing before us.

  “I’ll take the fat guy. You take the rest.” I said.

  “The other guys are cops,” Frank groaned.

  It was eerily quiet.

  Then the screaming began, behind us in a boxcar.

  A vicious roar from the tiger followed.

  Then bursts from an Uzi.

  I looked at Frank. He looked at me.

  Everyone ran.

  Chapter 26