by Roy Glenn
"It’s possible, but I doubt it," Martin said. "That means you need to get to them before they read it."
When they arrived at the address Martin gave them, Black and Bobby went to the door and Rawls was coming out. He was carrying a woman’s coat and one shoe. Both matched the description that Martin had given Black of what Ebony was wearing when they had dinner earlier that evening. They forced Rawls inside at gunpoint, tied him to a chair and searched the house. Ebony wasn’t there. That was over an hour ago, and they were no closer to finding her.
Bobby hit Rawls in the face and took a step back. He looked down at Rawls’ feet. "Those some nice kicks there. What kind are they?" Bobby asked.
"Stacy Adams," Rawls mumbled.
"Can I see them?" Bobby asked and knelt down to take the shoes off. He walked over to where Black was sitting. "These some bad-ass kicks, Mike. I gotta get me a pair of these." He turned back to Rawls. "What size are these?" But Rawls was too out of it to answer.
"I don’t think he’s paying you any attention, Bob," Black said and laughed.
"Hey asshole," Bobby yelled and threw a shoe at him. "I’m talkin’ to you." The shoe hit Rawls in the face, but he still didn’t answer.
"Told you." Black laughed. "He doesn’t respect you, Bob. He thinks that you’ll get tired of hitting him and you’ll go away, and he won’t have to tell you shit."
Bobby walked up to Rawls, picked up the shoe and hit him in the face with it.
"What are you-his mother now? Beatin’ him with a shoe," Black laughed, but Bobby didn’t seem amused. He was getting frustrated with Rawls. Bobby was doing some of his best work, and he hadn’t said a word.
"You think you a tough son of a bitch, don’t you?" But Rawls still didn’t answer. "Well, dickhead, we’ll see just how tough you are in a minute," Bobby said and walked away. "You wait right there."
"Where you goin’?" Black asked.
"Garage."
There was silence in the room for a minute or two before Black got up and dragged the chair he was sitting in closer to Rawls.
Rawls raised his head and looked at Black. He knew Black was right about him. Rawls was counting on Bobby getting tired. Rawls figured that after a while Black, who appeared not to think that he was going to talk, would pull Bobby off and go try to find Ebony without his help. But Rawls had no idea who he was dealing with, or what they were capable of doing to get what they wanted.
"You know it’s only gonna get worse from here, right?" Black said. "I mean, he’s gonna come back from that garage with some bazaar shit to beat your ass with. You know that, right? Now I’ve known Bobby for a long time, and I know he’s not gonna stop until you tell us what we wanna know. Save yourself a lot of pain and tell me where Ebony Washington is, and where are the papers she was carrying. ’Cause once he gets started, I may not be able to stop him."
Bobby came back in the room carrying a sledgehammer and an ax. "Too late for that shit now, Mike. He done fucked around and made a nigga mad."
"I tried to warn you," Black said and moved out of Bobby’s way.
"I don’t give a fuck if you don’t say another word. You gonna die slow, bloody and painful tonight." Bobby dropped the ax and swung the sledgehammer over his head and brought it down on Rawls’ kneecap.
Rawls screamed and Bobby hit him in the other knee- cap.
"That sounds like it hurts," Black said. "I think you better tell this nigga something."
"Fuck that, Mike. He ain’t got to say shit to me for the rest of the night," Bobby said as he hit Rawls in the chin. "I’m about to go Kunta Kinte on his ass." Bobby dropped the sledgehammer, knelt down in front of Rawls and pulled off his sock. Then he shoved the sock in Rawls’ mouth. "The time for talkin’ is over." Bobby got in Rawls’ face. "It’s party time."
"Look at him, Bobby. He’s all confused and bothered. I don’t think he knows what you’re gonna do. I mean, I don’t think he saw Roots."
Bobby picked up the ax. "Well, he’s about to find out." He knelt down in front of Rawls again and grabbed Rawls’ ankle. "This is gonna hurt."
"No shit," Black said as Bobby brought the ax down and chopped off Rawls’ toes.
As Rawls grimaced in pain and the blood oozed out of what was left of his foot, Bobby went in the kitchen and came back with a knife. Then he ripped the sleeves off of Rawls’ shirt and made long incisions down his arms. "Now we gonna see if you bleed to death before I cut your throat."
Mike walked back over to Rawls. "You sure you don’t want to tell me where Ebony Washington is and where the papers she was carrying are?" he asked, but didn’t bother to take the sock out of his mouth.
"Mike!"
"What?"
"If you not gonna help, get the fuck out my way."
Black shrugged his shoulders and took two steps back. Bobby stepped in front of Rawls and began punching him in the face with hard lefts and rights. Once his hands started hurting, Bobby picked up the sledgehammer and began ramming it into Rawls’ chest. Rawls could hear his ribs cracking. Slowly he began to realize that he was going to die, just the way Bobby said he would, slow, bloody and painful.
"Damn, Bob. I heard that shit. I think you broke his ribs," Black said.
"You wanna hear bones breakin’? Watch this," Bobby said and came down with the hammer on Rawls’ arm with so much force that it broke the arm of the chair. Rawls opened his eyes and looked at the blood and his bone sticking out of his arm. He bit down harder on the sock because the pain had become more than he could stand.
Bobby walked around to the other side of the chair and was about to do the same to the other arm when Rawls pushed the sock out of his mouth with his tongue. "Okay-okay, shit! I’ll tell you what you wanna know."
"Fuck that!"
Bobby raised the hammer over his head, but Black grabbed his arm. "Let’s hear what the man has to say, Bob."
"Okay," Bobby said, but as soon as Black let go, Bobby brought the hammer down on Rawls’ other arm. While he screamed in agony, Black looked at Bobby and shook his head. "No point wasting a good swing."
Once again, Black pulled his chair closer to Rawls. "Where is she?"
"Brooklyn-in a house on Sterling Street. They got her in the basement."
"How many men are with her?" Black asked.
"Three: two upstairs, one in the basement watching her."
"What’s the plan?"
"I’m supposed to meet them there later with the money, and then we’ll let her go."
"Good man. Now where are the papers she was carrying?"
"I don’t know," Rawls said. He really didn’t know. He had no idea what papers Black was asking him about all night. All he knew was that when they brought her in, she wasn’t carrying anything.
"I’m getting tired of this," Black said and stood up. He kicked Rawls in the chest and the chair fell over. Black went in the kitchen and got the biggest pot he could find. He went to the sink and filled the pot with water.
Black came back to the living room to find Bobby standing over Rawls kicking him in the face. "Bobby!"
"What?"
"I’m in the middle of something here," Black said and stood over Rawls with the pot of water in his hands.
"Sorry."
When Bobby stepped aside, Black started to pour the water slowly in Rawls’ face. Rawls turned his head to one side, trying to keep the water from going in his mouth and up his nose.
"Hold his head, Bobby."
"But I’ll get wet," Bobby laughed.
"Bobby!"
"All right, all right, you don’t have to yell," Bobby said and kicked Rawls again. Then he got down and grabbed his face with both hands. Black tilted the pot slowly and water began to rush down on Rawls’ face. With Bobby holding his head, he couldn’t avoid the rushing water. When the pot was empty, Bobby stood up and kicked Rawls again.
Black dropped the pot and knelt down next to Rawls. "Where are those papers?"
"In the garage." Rawls thought if she had the papers whe
n his men took her that, that was the only other place that he could think the papers might be. At this point, Rawls was ready to tell them anything they wanted just to get them to stop. "Trunk of my car," he said, still gasping for air and spitting water out of his mouth.
"Thank you," Black said and stood up. "Let’s go," he said to Bobby and they headed for the garage.
"Hey! Wait a minute. You can’t leave me like this," Rawls yelled until he heard the door close.
"Water boarding?" Bobby asked. "That was your big move?"
"Hey, if fuckin’ Dick Cheney can do it, so can I. Besides, it worked, didn’t it?"
Black went around to the back of the car and shot out the lock in the trunk. He picked up the briefcase and opened it. Black quickly flipped through the papers until he found the one he was looking for. He started to leave. "Wait a minute, Mike."
"What?"
"You just gonna leave him in there?"
"Yeah. He’ll bleed to death, and that’ll be that."
"Yeah, but suppose somebody comes lookin’ for him?"
"You’re right," Black said, took out his gun and went back in the house. He walked over to Rawls and stood over him.
"Thank you," Rawls mumbled.
Black raised his gun and shot Rawls twice in the head. "You’re welcome."
When they arrived in the house where Ebony Washington was being held, Bobby parked the car in front of the house and turned to Black. "So what’s your plan?"
"I been thinkin’ about that. Thinkin’ what would Monika do?"
"Shit, sexy one-eye would blow the place up and tell Martin that we couldn’t save his ho."
"I thought about that too. I mean, we got the important shit and that was the memo."
"Right."
"But I promised Martin that I’d bring her back alive. He’s in love with her," Black said and got out of the car.
"Since I ain’t plannin’ on dyin’ for love, what you gonna do? You just gonna open the gate, walk up the steps, ring the bell and ask them to send her out?"
"Something like that. Come on," Black said and opened the gate. On the way up the steps, both Black and Bobby took out their guns and put their silencers on. Black rang the bell and they stepped to either side of the door.
"Who is it?" a voice came back.
"It’s Rawls. Open up."
As soon as the man opened the door, Black shot him in the head. They entered in time to see a man come out of the living room. He fired two shots at Black and Bobby then ran up the stairs.
"I got him," Black said. "You go find Ebony."
Black followed the man up the steps just as he ran into a room. When Black entered the room, the man came out from behind the door and knocked the gun out of Black’s hand.
Black turned around and kicked the gun out of the man’s hand before he got a shot off, and punched him in the face. Then he grabbed him by his belt and his collar, and threw him through the glass and out the window.
When Black got back downstairs, he saw Bobby coming out of the basement with Ebony. "What happened?"
"When I got down there, one of them was holding her with a gun to her head," Bobby said as they walked out the door.
"What’d you do?"
"I shot him," Bobby said.
"Who are you guys?" Ebony asked.
"It’s all right, honey. We’re friends of Martin Marshall. He sent us to find you," Bobby said as they passed the man Black threw out the window. His body was draped over a metal fence with a spike coming out of his back. "What happened to him?"
"What does it look like? I threw him out the window."
"Just askin’."
CHAPTER FIVE
Mike Black sat in his office at Cuisine and waited for Bobby and Nick to get there. When he got the call from Cynt that Kenny and three of his men had been murdered in the street, he was shocked, then he got mad, and then he became reflective. Black thought about those he’d lost over the years; and two inparticular.
Losing his wife Cassandra was probably the hardest thing he ever had to deal with in his life. There were times when no matter what he did or how hard he tried, he could not stop thinking about her. Although the time he recently spent in the Bahamas with CeCe allowed him to have some closure about her death, Cassandra and the great love he felt for her was still never far from his thoughts.
But as hard as that was to deal with, at times like this, it was Freeze that he missed. As much as he hated to admit it, he had made a mistake putting Nick in charge. It wasn’t that things had gone all that wrong. It was more that Nick didn’t have the same feel for the job that Freeze brought to the work.
Nick never wanted the job, Black pushed it on him. For his part, Nick would have been perfectly content to takeover the high-stakes poker game that Jackie Washington now ran for him. Maybe that’s what he should have done, and made Jackie continue to work with Travis and Monika on the very-lucrative projects they brought to the table.
Recently, changes in the global economy forced Black to rethink their push to go completely legitimate. They had lost a lot of money on some of the investments that they made with Meka Brazil. Meka’s understanding of the business climate in this country led her to believe that the best opportunity for long-term investment existed offshore. "China, India and even Russia are where the growth markets are at this point," Meka told them at their last meeting.
Black liked Meka; thought she was smart. He hadn’t even mentioned his new Chinese-backed investment group to Meka, and she was already looking in that direction. Black didn’t blame her for the major losses they took. There was no way she could have anticipated the changes in the market. At least she hadn’t invested in credit default swaps or mortgage backed securities, which played a factor in bringing the markets down.
For the time being, Black had decided that he would have to put plans for business expansion to the side. Now was the time to focus his attention on the real money maker. From his point of view, the recession had improved rather than hurt his business. Hard times make people more likely to gamble and men more likely to buy more pussy tryin’ to escape from reality, he thought as Bobby and Nick came in.
"I guess you’ve heard?" Black asked.
"Any idea who did it?" Bobby asked.
"No," Black said. "I just heard about it."
"I got everybody out askin’ questions," Nick said. "But so far, nobody’s heard anything."
"Somebody knows something," Black said. "You need to find them and make them tell you what you want to know."
"I’m on it, Black." Nick assured Black.
"Ain’t that Detective Harmon over there in the corner?" Bobby noticed.
"Looks like him," Black said. "What’s he doin’ here?" he asked.
"He’s here to see me," Nick said. "The detective is doing some work for me."
"What kind of work?" Black asked.
Nick looked at Black. "You wanna hear about this?" He asked Black, knowing that he was trying to stay out of the day-to-day stuff.
"I do," Bobby said definitely.
Black nodded his head. He would tell both Nick and Bobby of his decision to step back in, later.
"Bo’s got something goin’-something big. And he forgot to tell me about it," Nick continued.
"What’s the deal?" Bobby asked.
"I don’t know. That’s what I got Harmon lookin’ in to."
"You sure you can trust Harmon?" Bobby asked.
"I’ve done business with him before," Nick told them. "Let’s see what he’s got. I’ll be right back.
Until a month ago, Jack Harmon was a decorated New York City homicide detective. He was under investigation for use of excessive force. The charges were dropped, but not before Jack ran up a huge legal bill. It was only by chance that he ran into Nick and told him about a surveillance job. "It pays five grand," Nick told Jack that day. Being broke, Jack couldn’t say no.
"What you got for me, Jack?" Nick asked as soon as he sat down with the detective.
&n
bsp; "Your boy Bo is doing business with the Russian mob," Jack said.
Nick sat back in his chair. Bo having a deal with the Russian mob was the last thing he expected to hear. "Ex-KGB agents, veterans of the Afghan and Chechen wars; out-of-work but with skills that are useful to criminal organizations," Nick said and thought about how useful his military experience had been to him.
"Bo’s contact is a guy named Nikolai Mikhailov. He’s a member of the Izmaylovskaya Gang.
"Never heard of them," Nick said and signaled for a waitress.
"They’re considered one of the country’s most important and oldest Russian Mafia groups in Moscow," Jack said. "But they operate here in New York, in Tel Aviv, Paris, Toronto, and Miami."
"How strong are they?"
"My information says they’re estimated to consist of about anywhere from three to five hundred active member’s worldwide. It’s run on a quasi-military style and strict internal discipline."
"What are they into?" Nick asked.
"They’re involved extensively in murder-for-hire, extortion, and infiltration of legitimate businesses. A lot like you guys."
"When is the job goin’ down?"
"Tonight at ten."
Nick looked at Jack, took an envelope out of his pocket and put it on the table in front of him. Jack opened the envelope and peeked inside. "Thanks, Nick. This will help out a lot with my legal bills. Any time you need info like that, you give me a call," Jack said and got up.
"Anything else I can do for you, Jack, you let me know," Nick said and rejoined Black and Bobby. He wasted no time telling them who Bo was doing business with.
"Bo had made a deal to deliver high-end vehicles to the Russian mob," Nick said. "Ever heard of the Izmaylovskaya Gang?"
"I think I might know somebody connected to them," Black said.
"You mean that Russian you and Angelo drink with sometimes?" Bobby asked.
"That’s right. He’s ex-KGB turned showdown artist."
"He fits the profile," Nick said.
"This really doesn’t create a problem for us, does it?" Bobby asked.
"Not from where I’m sittin’. Doin’ business with the Russians is a good thing," Nick said. "Only problem is Bo thinkin’ he could get something like this done and think nobody would know about it."