Vicious Justice

by Tobi Doyle

  Dima nodded slowly, his gaze narrowing on Vanya. “Yes. Anything else that needs to be destroyed?”

  Vanya smirked. “I should think most of your wardrobe.”

  “Your mother looks good in my shirts the morning after,” Dima said.

  Vanya flipped him off, as expected.

  We drove to the restaurant in my car and parked in the garage. I grabbed the large utility dolly and two plastic tubs that we usually stored the linens in for catering jobs. I raided our day old food and put an assortment of chicken breasts and pasta into foil containers and put it in the tote. Nobody wanted to be caught on the convenience store security video buying tubs a body would be found in later.

  Perhaps one of us needed to consider going into landscaping…

  Dima eyed the totes. “Someone is optimistic.”

  I stuffed them into the back of the van, along with the dolly.

  Vanya climbed in. “Do you have coveralls? I’m not ruining another set of clothes.”

  Dima laughed. He climbed into the driver’s seat. “You are a prissy mother fucker.”

  “Your mother likes that about me,” Vanya said.

  Dima flipped him off, as expected.

  We pulled into the storage facility Dima owned. He stopped at the office and ran inside. “I’ll get them to turn off the security cameras.” He returned and drove around back and pulled up in front of a double wide garage. He jumped out, unlocked the storage doors and pushed it up. He drove the van inside and turned it off. “Wait until I close the door.” He jumped out of the van, rolled down the garage door and turned on the light.

  I got out of the van. “What was that all about?”

  “Even with the security cameras off, there is no reason for them to know who is in the van. The less they see and know the better.”

  I climbed out of the truck. Dima’s storage unit had lockers along one side and at least a dozen much larger plastic totes, maybe forty gallon or more.

  I opened the back door to the van and Vanya emerged in his boxers and shoes, his clothes folded neatly. He went to the first storage locker and pulled out a coverall. The remaining shelves held cleaning supplies. The coverall was a bit short, and his name was Pete, but it would do.

  “I’ve got work boots in the middle locker.” Dima eyed Vanya’s high pants. “You look ridiculous. People will notice.”

  Vanya grunted. He peeled off the coveralls and handed them to me.

  I pushed them back. “No, they’ll make my butt look big. Where are the chef’s jackets I gave you?” I asked Dima.

  He smacked his head. “I forgot about those.” He walked to the end locker and opened it. Inside were bright orange vests, black t-shirts with “security” written in yellow, the chef’s jackets and pants, and hospital scrubs. The bottom shelf held flash lights, clipboards, and first aid-kits. He kept his storage locker “legal”. The warehouse held guns, more medical supplies, enough to do small surgeries, remove bullets, suture wounds, give antibiotics and fluids. Vanya was handy with a needle. If only we’d known Dima when he got his facial scar…

  Dima handed us the chef jackets and pants. I slid the chef jacket over my shirt and buttoned.

  “Wait. Coveralls first, trust me. Jackets for the marina.” Vanya pulled on a new set of coveralls. Now his name was Matthew. He handed me Paul’s coveralls, size 2X. I put them on over my jeans and tied the sleeves around my waist.

  Dima took Pete’s. He shoved two totes into the van, filling one with tarps and a backpack. I tossed the chef jacket on top.

  Dima closed the van doors. He cocked his head to his side. “Your butt looks like shit in those.”

  I patted the baggy material. “It’s not too bad, and the color brings out my eyes.” I batted my eyelashes.

  We continued teasing while we forced two bodies into totes, with the assistance of a sledgehammer. It was easier to pretend this was normal if we kept up the adolescent banter.

  It helped with negate the nightmares.

  Vanya unfolded a tarp and I pushed the heavy tote into the center. I giftwrapped the tote and with Dima’s help slid it into the van. We continued with the remaining totes, and then washed down the floor with bleach and water that Dima had stored.

  He was always prepared.

  We drove toward the marina, stopping a few blocks away to add a sign to the side of the van, change the plates, and dress in the chef’s jackets and ball caps. At the marina, Dima parked in the loading zone. The totes were heavy, but Vanya and I loaded them onto the dolly like they were lightweight. Vanya walked in front to help steer the dolly down the ramp to the dock, keeping the totes steady. Dima followed behind us, keeping watch.

  The cool chill in the air kept people away, but we played our parts as caterers setting up Lev’s yacht. We loaded the totes into the forward cabin and wiped them down with bleach wipes. Vanya closed the door. I arranged the food in the refrigerator while Dima stashed the gun and drugs in the engine compartment.

  I drove back to the restaurant.

  Vanya sat in the back of the van, leaning up against the wall, and wiping his shoes with a handkerchief.

  Dima texted from the passenger seat, growling at whatever he read.

  Vanya took of his shoes, polished them, and peeled off the coveralls. He changed back into his street clothes and tossed the coveralls onto the tarps we’d used to wrap the totes. “I’ll burn the tarps and coveralls,” he said.

  Dima grunted.

  “I’ll send the chef jackets through the laundry service,” I said.

  Dima grunted.

  “What?” I asked Dima.

  “Grigori wants to talk to me. Face to face. He has orders from Lev,” Dima said.

  Fuck. “We go with you.” I got off on the exit and headed to Dima’s warehouse. We’d need weapons.

  “Where does he want to meet?” Vanya asked.

  “Alimony.” Dima grunted again. “He likes to watch the girls.”

  “When?” I asked.

  “One hour.” Dima faced Vanya. “We burn the tarps at the warehouse. Have Daniel drive a motorcycle here. We can load it into the van. He’ll take the van back with the unused totes. I’ll keep the chef coats. You both stay backstage, eyes on me, sights on him.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Forty five minutes later, guns at the ready, Vanya and I watched Dima, seated close to the stage with Grigori. Dima sat, impassive, stone-like, and nodded at whatever the fuck Grigori said. They stood, shook hands, and Grigori left.

  We waited until Dima motioned for us and followed him to his office.

  He closed the door. “Where the fuck is Adrianna right now?” His fists clenched and unclenched, like he wished they were strangling Grigori and disappointed his hands were empty.

  I checked my phone. “At her sister’s work.” Fear slicked down my spine, chilling my blood.

  “Call her. Tell her to stay there. Get Daniel over there, now.”

  Uneasiness slid over me. I texted her phone. Please stay at the bar, something’s wrong. I then texted Daniel, Get to Elena’s work, a bar, The Office on Bayshore and protect Adrianna and Elena.

  Daniel responded, On it.

  Adrianna didn’t.

  “What’s going on?” Vanya asked.

  Dima grabbed his whiskey glass and threw it across his office, the glass exploded against the wall, shattering into millions of pieces.

  I lunged forward and grabbed Dima’s t-shirt. “Tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  “I got orders from Lev.” He plopped down onto the couch. He leaned on his knees. “I need your help.”

  I grabbed his shoulder. “Anything, brother.”

  He held my gaze, eyes wide in fear. “No, not anything, never say that,” he whispered. “Lev wants Adrianna dead. Grigori is going to collect her. Lev wants me to prove my allegiance by killing her tonight.” He sat back and stared up at the ceiling. “With Grigori as a witness.”

  “Grigori will kill you tonight,” I said.

 
; Dima dropped his head and his cold-dead eyes searched mine. “This ends tonight. Grigori will have to die first. We’ll have to hide her, maybe in the restaurant. I need Vanya to dress in Grigori’s clothes and enter Lev’s compound with me. We’ll take out as many as we can but if I can’t get to Lev, you’ll have to blow the place.” His tone was cold and sincere.

  “You are prepared to die for Adrianna?” I asked Dima.

  “Da.”

  Vanya clapped my shoulder. “One of us has found a future. You will name your children after us.”

  “You will be there. I must call her first, but I think I have something to make this easier.” I dialed her phone number but it went straight to voicemail. I texted her again, begging her to answer the phone, but there was no reply.

  I called Daniel. “Are you there, yet?”

  “Looking for parking now,” Daniel answered.

  “Fucking double park. I need to speak to Adri, now.” Fear and frustration crept into my muscles, making them brittle. The sound of his car door opening and slamming told me he was following order.

  “Where’s Adri?” Daniel called out.

  “She’s not outside?” A woman, probably Elena, asked.

  “She’s not here,” Daniel said to me.

  “What do you mean she’s not here?” Elena’s voice sounded closer. “Who are you talking to?” Her voice got louder. “Who is this?”

  “Alyosha, where is Adri?”

  “She went outside to talk to Eric, but his truck is gone.” Elena rushed her words. “Could those goons from the salon come back for her?”

  I put my phone on speaker. “Why did she leave with Eric?”

  “He said he knew someone he trusted that could help her with the… thing,” she said.

  I could picture her eyeing Daniel and filtering what she said. Good girl. Smart girl. “When?”

  “Maybe twenty minutes ago?” Elena said.

  Dima called someone on his phone. “Grigori, where should I meet you?”

  “Am I on speaker?” Elena’s voice was low, hissy, pissed.

  “Yes.” I picked up the phone. “Where did Eric know this someone?” I murmured into the microphone.

  “He said… shit… he didn’t say. We asked if he knew someone on the police force he would trust to hide a body. He said he had someone he trusted, he didn’t specify where. Where is Adri?”

  A car door opened, a car honked, and then the street noise disappeared. “We’re in the car, where am I going?” Daniel asked.

  Dima kicked his chair away. “I know the place. I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t start without me.” Dima punched the phone to end the call. “Fuck! He’s got her at the gravel pit. He’s already there.”

  “Daniel take Elena to the condo. Elena, listen carefully,” I said calmly. “Get the flash drive. Give it to Daniel. Tell him to take it to the gravel pit.”

  “Wait.” She sounded just like Adrianna. “I need my purse and Adri had an idea. She wanted to post the video on YouTube and Tweet the link to every news outlet in California and the US.”

  “Stay here, I’ll get your purse,” Daniel said.

  “What flash drive?” Dima’s cold voice froze my muscles.

  Vanya cleared his throat, reminding us to calm the fuck down.

  “Herndon hid a flash drive with video of Robertson’s son’s hit and run last month that killed the mother and baby. I promised Adrianna I wouldn’t tell you, but I think we could leverage it for her life.”

  “This is why she agreed to marry you?” Dima’s face relaxed. “To tell you this?”

  “Yes. She needed to know Herndon wouldn’t come back. She wanted to protect me from withholding evidence from the police.” Warmth slid into my veins and I relaxed, knowing with certainty we would get Adrianna back tonight and I would never let her go.

  Daniel spoke, “Okay, I’m back and headed to the condo.”

  Dima shook his head once, and focused on the wall. “Adrianna’s idea is good. This changes thing.” Dima pointed to Vanya and I. “But we make it better. Elena upload the video, but don’t tweet for two hours, no three. In three hours tweet. Make the copy but give Daniel the flash drive to bring to us and then lock yourself in the condo. We will text before we come in. Shoot anyone who tries to open the door without texting first.” He faced me. “Where is a gun she can use?”

  “Check the bedside table, top drawer. More magazines are in the closet, behind the shoes,” I said.

  “Can you use a gun?” Vanya asked.

  Elena snorted.

  Dima raised an eyebrow and his lip twitched. “Interesting family you married into.”

  “Fuck you, too.” Elena continued on in a string of Spanish curses.

  “Okay, calm down, cupcake,” Daniel said. “Where am bringing the flash drive?”

  “The quarry,” Dima said low like a curse. “Bring weapons. We’ll get .223s, smoke bombs, and the rocket launcher. You’ll have eyes on you, Daniel. I’ll have Nik following you and picking off stragglers.”

  “Got it,” Daniel said.

  Dima reached over and ended the call. “Vanya, we need a sharp shooter on the ridge.” He faced me. “You want that job or do you want to ride in the trunk of my car?”

  “I’ll take the trunk.” I wanted to be close to Adri.

  “I figured,” Dima said. “I’ll kill Grigori and whoever else is holding her, agreed?”

  I nodded. “I’ll get out of the trunk at the first shot.”

  “I’ll be on the ridge,” Vanya said. “And then, how do we take the fight to your uncle?” He cocked his head side to side, cracking and popping to relax.

  “I’ll call him from Grigori’s phone and show him the flash drive, tell him she’s willing to talk to him, tell him everything, and I’ll bring her to him. We’ll leave someone at the quarry to clean up.”

  Vanya looked down at his wool vest, slacks, and wingtips. “I need to change.”

  “Did you bring another spare outfit, princess?” Dima raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  Vanya flipped him off. “You wish you looked as good as me.”

  “What will you do when you get to Lev’s?” I made a mental list of weapons and ammo Daniel should bring.

  Dima stood. “I’ll burn it to the ground. I want the message sent that he’s gone.” He lifted a shoulder. “It will be easier to deal with family when he’s gone.”

  Vanya grunted. “And your consequences?”

  I waited, worried for my friend.

  Dima pouted and tilted his head side-to-side like he was measuring the difficulties. “I think when I explain to them the money we can make legally or with less risk, they may have ears.” He combed his hair back. “Blood ties have limits.”

  Vanya unbuttoned his vest. “Set your phone on silent. I’ll text when I’m in position.” He nodded to me. “We will get your wife back.”

  I hugged him. I turned to Dima and held out my hand. He reached for it and I pulled him in for a hug. “We will always be your family,” I promised him.

  “I will always have your back,” Dima said. He slapped my back a few times and stepped back. “Now put your pretty face in my trunk.” He tilted his chin at me. “But first, load the weapons.”

  We donned Kevlar vests, loaded our weapons, and filled our magazines. It took another five minutes to load everything into Dima’s car within reach but out of sight. I curled into a ball in the trunk and he slammed the lid down hard.

  Prick.

  It would take at least fifteen minutes, probably closer to thirty to get to the quarry.

  “Why would she ask Eric for help and not you?” Dima’s voice sounded muffled from the front seat.

  “I don’t know. She was mad at me this morning,” I admitted.

  “Why?”

  “She didn’t like that I called you. She doesn’t trust you, yet.” I shifted, giving my legs more room to stretch.

  “She’s smart. She shouldn’t trust me, I’m a predator.” The coldness in his voice sounded
sincere, but Dima was more protector than predator.

  “She should trust me enough,” I countered.

  “She trusted you enough to marry you and bring her sister to your house. Do you trust her?”

  “Of course.”

  “Does she know you trust her?” Dima sounded amused.

  Did she?

  “She married you to protect you. She’s been protecting you from the start. She could have gone to the police immediately but she didn’t,” Dima continued. “And what have you done to prove you trust her?”

  Dima getting philosophical meant he considered our chances of survival to be low. The last time he asked this many questions we all decided to leave Spetsnatz.

  “I’ve protected her.”

  “And she’s grateful,” Dima said. “So grateful that she lied to the police for you. If you hadn’t been there, she’d have been raped, but she’d have gone to the hospital and the police wouldn’t have been able to hide what Herndon did. You protected her from rape, but you made her a target of Robertson, my uncle, and anybody else Robertson has persuaded to find and kill her. So tell me, Alyosha, what have you done to prove you are trustworthy?”

  “Nothing.” The word was bitter in my mouth. “I’ve ruined another woman’s life.”

  Dima was silent for a long time, leaving me to stew about Valeria and Daniel’s parents. I had been so positive I could protect them, but it was my actions that made them targets of the gang. And I’d done it again.

  “Fuck!” I screamed in the confined space of the trunk.

  “Have you figured it out yet?” Dima asked, chiding me.

  “That I should never love a woman? That I was wrong to think I deserved a different life? Yes, thank you.”

  “No, moron, you need to tell her you love her.”

  I jerked my head in an attempt to hear him correctly and banged it. “It’s too soon,” I said. But was it?

  “You going to wait for your funeral?” Dima asked. “If you don’t love this girl, then why are we walking into danger? Why are you risking your brothers’ lives? I don’t believe it’s because she deserves protection, even you wouldn’t risk so many lives for one.”

  I didn’t want to love again. The loss of Valeria, the guilt that I carried was still heavy in my heart. Until Adrianna. She made crazy. She made me feel human again. “I love her,” I called out.