by Laura Acton
“What’s your pain level?” Brody asked as he stood, glad he woke to use the bathroom and found Dan missing from the bedroom. Dan still struggled to admit when he hurt. Danny attempted to push what happened to him down every time he experienced pain, but dark memories of what the filthy animals did to him often bubbled up. That was one reason Patch kept Danny medicated. It helped his state of mind, kept him on solid ground and in the present when he did not have to deal with physical pain.
Not making eye contact, prepared for a lecture about not requesting pain meds, he admitted, “Six.” Brody surprised him by walking inside. The suite door opened and closed. Crap, he is fetching Patch.
Five minutes later Brody, Patch, and Blaze entered the room and came out on the balcony. Shit, I’m in trouble now. Tensing as he turned to face them, his stomach growled.
Patch laughed. “Well, I guess I have two things to sort out. First, take these.” He held out three pills to Blondie.
Dan eyed them. “Those are more than just ibuprofen.”
“Brody said you indicated level six. So, yeah, heavy duty is necessary.” Patch continued to hold his palm out, waiting for Blondie to acquiesce.
Blaze frowned at Blondie, noting the bloodshot eyes and haggard features indicating lack of sleep and pain. “If I must, I will order you to take them. Though, I much prefer you choose to do the right thing on your own.”
“They might knock me out too long. We have the other clubs to go to tonight,” Dan protested eyeing the sedative and painkillers.
It became a glare of wills until rapping on the door interrupted them. Dan started to rise, thinking to escape, but Patch pushed him back into the chair.
Blaze removed his gun from his holster, turned, and went to find out who was here. They were not expecting any visitors, and the rest of the unit would have entered without knocking. He checked through the peephole then holstered his weapon before unlocking and opening the suite door.
A bellboy held out an envelope. “Для Максима Геннадиевича.”
Understanding Maks’ name, Blaze took the item and shut the portal without speaking. With long, quick strides he returned to the others and handed the envelope to Blondie. “For Maks.”
Dan ripped the paper and pulled out an extravagant card and a short note. After reading the Cyrillic script, he glanced up at Blaze with astonishment. “Maks and Mike have been invited to the Cherry Club.”
Brody beamed. “Fantastic, no more clubbing needed. Now take the damned pills so you can sleep. You need to be in top form tonight, Sinner.”
Patch and Blaze stared at Brody as Patch asked, “Sinner?”
“Long story, I’ll tell you sometime,” Brody answered as his eyes stayed on Dan, imploring him to take the meds.
Moving his eyes back to the unwanted but necessary pills, Dan debated if Blaze would actually order him. He wouldn’t … would he? “How long will these knock me out?”
“Six to eight hours tops.” Patch moved to hand them over.
Blaze said, “Take them, Blondie. From our recon, most people do not begin showing up to the Cherry Club until close to midnight. That is thirteen hours from now. This will be out of your system in enough time, kid.”
Reluctantly, Dan reached for the tablets. “Can I eat first? I’m starving.”
Anastasia poked her head out. “Seems like no one is sleeping. I’ll order lunch for everyone.”
The apple core on the table made Patch aware Blondie’s stomach wasn’t empty so these wouldn’t cause upset. “Take these now. Takes about a half-hour for them to kick in. You’ll have time to eat before you conk out.”
Complying, Dan swallowed three pills, washing them down with water. Patch, Blaze, and Anastasia went inside leaving Blondie with Brody.
Brody moved to sit. “You should have woken me up if you hurt.”
Dan shrugged as Brody settled into the other chair again. He smiled, wanting to change the topic. “You appeared to be having an exciting dream. Which lady starred in your dream?”
Brody blushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Recalling the woman of his fantasy, there was no way in hell he would say anything. First, Blaze would kill him if he became aware he dreamt about his sister. Second, even if it were not Daphne, he would never share a sensual dream with anyone … not even Danny. Some things were too private to share with his brother.
Though, Daphne was the first woman he ever considered sleeping with before marriage. That would be a huge step. One he had never taken before. Being with a lady intimately was more to him than sex. He required a meaningful connection with a woman before he made love to her.
Brody yearned for a chance to grow a relationship with Daphne. She seemed to like him. They had fun teasing each other. She was a beautiful kisser. She might be his beauty if they could ever spend enough time together to develop a bond. If they did, he hoped Blaze approved. In some ways, Blaze filled his need for a father too, and his approval meant a lot.
Dan watched the emotions flitter across Brody’s face. Damn, I’m right. Brody was dreaming about a specific woman. Hope it works out for him.
He speculated who captured Brody’s attention for a moment but ended up closing his eyes, relaxing and enjoying the fresh, gentle breeze caressing his face. Duty required his head to be on straight tonight. Going into Savelievich’s place would try his soul and test his mettle. He needed to be able to do what must be done to save those little girls.
The food arrived a short time later. Dan pigged out, sating his hunger before becoming drowsy and wandering into the bedroom with heavy lids which barely stayed open.
After making sure Blondie was settled, Patch reentered the main suite and received grins from all the guys. He was glad he grabbed his med pack before meeting the others on the tarmac, or else he wouldn’t have been prepared to help Blondie.
Blaze stood and said, “Grab a few more hours of shuteye. We all need to be on top of our game tonight.”
Wicked Deeds
22
May 28
Outside Anzhi-Qala Resort – 1100 Hours
Makar exited the hotel and strode towards his car. Earlier they tailed Boris to his apartment and waited outside for thirty minutes before he reemerged. After shadowing Savelievich’s scout again, they ended up at this resort.
Both thought they would hit pay dirt when Makar trailed Boris inside ten minutes ago. Things didn’t work out that way. Frustrated by his inability to move close enough to the concierge desk to eavesdrop without being seen, he slipped out before Boris spotted him.
Unable to gain useful information, he still had no clue who received Savelievich’s invitation. Makar slid into the driver’s seat, deciding to follow Boris until he reached his home and carve the details out of him if necessary. Inserting the key in the ignition, he said, “We follow Boris again.”
Wondering why, Kazimir asked, “Didn’t you find out who?”
Putting the car in gear and pulling out behind Boris, Makar explained his reasons to his brother.
Kazimir grinned at the prospect of unleashing his pent-up anger. His fists clenched and released causing his left arm to burn again and increasing his desire to kill Savelievich.
Apartment of Boris Antonovich – 1430 Hours
Blood dribbled down Boris’ chin as he strained against the thin but strong fishing line binding his hands to the arms of his kitchen chair. Upon entering his apartment, after delivering the invitation to Maks and rewarding his endeavors with a leisurely lunch at his favorite restaurant, Yegorovich and his Jackal goons jumped him. They proceeded to tie him up and apply brute force to persuade him to reveal details of Savelievich’s operations.
Something he couldn’t do. If he talked, Savelievich would do much worse than beat the shit out of him. Dying would be better than what would be in store for him at the hands of the crazy bastard.
Radoslav nodded to Damir, indicating to punish Boris more, as he paced the cheap, blood splattered
, linoleum floor of the filthy kitchen.
His bare fists aching, Damir slugged Boris again, this time causing one of the gold-capped teeth to fly out of Boris’ mouth along with blood and spittle. Still pissed someone got the drop on him on the roof, Damir put all his effort into the beating. Cousin or not, Damir appreciated his luck, he continued breathing despite failing Radoslav.
Only the intervention of Roksana stopped her twin from putting a bullet in his head when he explained what happened. As a result of failing to kill the French buyers and having his sniper rifle taken by the man who attacked him, he lost his ranking within the gang. Now he must prove his worth again by doing whatever Radoslav required, mostly grunt work.
Signaling Damir to stop, Radoslav repeated his question to Boris to tell him about Savelievich’s operation.
Boris’ head lolled on his chest keeping his mouth shut.
Frustrated after hours of working Boris over and gaining no information, Radoslav made a decision. Turning to Miro, he told him to leave one man to guard Boris. Perhaps several days of starvation would change his mind and make the man talk. Radoslav and his gang members strode out, leaving Tanas Ilyich to keep an eye on Antonovich.
Outside Apartment of Boris Antonovich – 1440 Hours
When Radoslav Yegorovich and his minions left, Kazimir woke his brother. Neither expected the Jackals to intercept their target. Cautiously eavesdropping outside the apartment, they listened briefly to what Radoslav wanted and discretely high-tailed it back to their car.
Makar smiled and indicated a turf war between Savelievich and Yegorovich would be beneficial to them. They would wait until Radoslav finished roughing up Boris, and swoop in afterwards. If Boris remained alive, they would extract information to sell to Radoslav.
If dead, a distinct possibility given Boris would fear Savelievich more than Yegorovich, they would still be able to profit by providing partial details of a potential new client staying at the resort. Either way, they would seek revenge on Savelievich while forging a new alliance with Radoslav’s Jackals.
Kazimir and Makar exited their vehicle and moved towards Boris’ place once the last Jackal departed.
Apartment of Boris Antonovich – 1445 Hours
Surprised to find one of Radoslav’s men still inside, Makar killed the man when he aimed a Glock at his brother. Kazimir stared at the dead Jackal. Speaking Russian, he said, “Why did you kill him?”
“You rather I let him live, and you die?” Makar pulled his blade from the lifeless man’s throat and wiped the blood on the man’s shirt, before turning to Boris. “Seems we are in time to save you.”
With one eye partially open, the other now swollen shut, Boris studied his rescuers. He recognized both. They had recent dealings with Savelievich. Wary by nature, he asked, “Why are you here?”
“Well, You possess something we need.” Makar toyed with his switchblade.
“What?”
“Give us the name of the recipient of the invitation, and I’ll release your bonds.” Makar moved his favorite weapon towards Boris’ wrist.
“And if I don’t?”
Placing the knife on Boris’ crotch, Makar smiled. “You’ll lose something.”
Boris swallowed hard but refrained from speaking.
Pushing the point into the fabric, making contact with the sensitive organ for emphasis, Makar said, “Name only. Savelievich will never find out it came from you. If you don’t tell me, I’ll inform him you told Yegorovich all about his operation.”
“You’ll cut me free and let me leave if I tell you?”
“Yes.”
To save his skin, Boris promptly decided it was in his best interest to retire and skip town. He kept enough cash to hide out from both Savelievich and Yegorovich, but he needed to be alive to do so. If he didn’t give this man a name, death became a certainty. “Maksim Gennadiyevich.”
Kazimir shook his head. “He’s lying. It can’t be. In France, I read a magazine which said Maksim is in Canada. The article said he partied with underage girls and got arrested. He claimed to be unaware of their ages and thought they were adults. Blamed the bar for not carding them properly. Canadian authorities have detained him and revoked his passport.
“I’m telling the truth. Maks is at Anzhi-Qala Resort. An old friend greeted him in the Barracuda Club last night.”
Fast as lightning Makar slit Boris’ throat. As the lifeblood drained out, he turned to Kazimir. “Interesting. Who is impersonating Maks and why? We might be able to use this to our advantage.” Cleaning his blade again, he took a moment to think. “We return to the hotel and determine who the imposter is, then decide to whom we pass the info. I believe both Panin and Radoslav would pay well for something like this.
Kandahar – MP Commander’s Office – 1500 Hours
Captain Keyondre Barrett, the commander of the Military Police in Kandahar, hung up the phone. At first, pleased to receive a call from his wife, missing her and his children terribly, his mood soured once Hadiah explained her reason for contacting him.
Memories from last year resurfaced. His eldest son, Karem, planned to take a year off between high school and university to volunteer. Instead, it ended up being a painful year of rehabilitation. Meghan, Karem’s ex-girlfriend, carelessly draped a blanket over a heater, causing a blaze. The fire enveloped his son as he rushed into the house to save Meghan.
It still infuriated him how horrendously Meghan treated Karem afterwards. The deep second and third degree burns required painful debridement to prevent infection and extensive skin grafts. Karem suffered horrific physical and psychological damage. The heartless girl broke up with Karem stating she could not stand to look at his scarred face and arms.
Hadiah called to relay information and ask if he might be able to help Mrs. Broderick with her issue. She and the general’s wife worked closely on several volunteer committees. He found Yvonne Broderick to be one of the most compassionate women he ever met. When Hadiah related to him an incident one of his MPs had been involved with, his stomach turned.
Aware of what had befallen Master Corporal Broderick, Keyondre was involved in ensuring proper security of his barracks after the incident involving the spiteful removal Broderick’s wheelchair. Word got around implicating Corporal Murphy as the culprit for the despicable prank. As a result, Keyondre ordered few of his most trusted MPs to watch Murphy when he was on base. There was something about the man he did not like.
He spoke with Lieutenant Blain to assure him patrols would be increased around their barracks. While there, Keyondre caught sight of the unit medic examining Broderick’s torso. The terrible scarring brought to mind memories of Karem’s burns. His heart went out to Broderick’s son comprehending the hard path to rehabilitation he faced.
When Hadiah told him what Mrs. Broderick relayed to her after speaking with General Broderick’s staff member, Master Corporal Weeks, about one of his MPs, the call turned unpleasant. Yvonne requested help to teach the cruel corporal a lesson in compassion. She didn’t want it to blow back on either her husband or son, which Keyondre understood completely.
The general had enough to cope with, and knowing Broderick, he would never dress down the corporal because it might be seen as prejudicial since the maligned party is his son. Keyondre assured his wife that he, as Pinchas’ CO, would deal with her appropriately.
Captain Barrett called out to Corporal Wane, “Locate Corporal Pinchas and have her report to me immediately.”
Wane responded, “Yes, sir,” and rushed out to find Julie. Twenty-five minutes later he returned with Pinchas. As she reported to the captain, Wane resumed his seat. He wondered why Barrett appeared out of sorts but decided if it were any of his business he would be informed, so he went back to his paperwork.
After coming to attention and reporting, Julie waited patiently for her captain to address her. She held back the smile wanting to grow, expecting the reason Barrett called her to his office was the promotion she deserved.
Barrett took the time necessary to decide his course of action. He left Pinchas stewing, waiting at attention, as he unhurriedly strolled to his door and closed it soundly. He did not believe in publicly reprimanding a soldier no matter how much they might deserve the chastisement … and this young corporal sincerely deserved to be shamed. Returning to his desk, Barrett said. “At ease.”
Julie went to parade rest. A smile showed on her face but only for a fraction of a second as she caught the scowl on Barrett’s face. Frantically she scrambled in her mind for something she did wrong which would cause him to be upset with her. She couldn’t think of a damned thing. Apprehension grew as her CO remained silent.
His expression stern and his voice cold, Barrett commenced his rebuke, “Corporal Pinchas, your actions have cast a sorry shadow over this military. We expect the men and women of the Canadian Forces to conduct themselves decently and compassionately both on and off duty. Your callous and thoughtless behavior reflects poorly on us all.”
Confused, Julie interrupted, “Sir, I don’t know what you are talking about, I did nothing illegal.”
Striding forward, Barrett stood in Pinchas’ personal space as his tone became harsh. “I did not give you permission to speak. Do not interrupt me again.”
Gripping her hands tightly behind her back, Julie strove to quell the quaking that her imposing commanding officer’s actions and tone caused. At six-feet-six-inches and possessing a broad chest and bulging biceps, the handsome black man could become quite frightening. Though, more than once, Julie wished he was not happily married so she might explore his chiseled chest. She saw him shirtless in the gym, and he ranked number eight on her list.
Usually, his brown eyes appeared kind and his lips formed into a smile. He typically maintained a fatherly air about him and tended to be hard to rile. His livid visage, the fury now reflected in the flint of his eyes, his clenched jaw, and downward turn of his mouth, intimidated Julie.
What the hell did I do to invoke the wrath of Captain Barrett? Julie’s mind ran in so many directions coming up empty.