Hard Win (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series 3)

by Jason Stanley

Michelle’s voice came back softly. “I think so. Mondo is in apartment four, right?”

  “That’s it,” Nikky said.

  “Okay,” Michelle said, “that confirms what Alana thought, Mondo in apartment four. We’ll move on it now.”

  Nikky put the phone back in her pocket. “Alright, Alana, like we talked about in the car. Frisk him. First, take out his gun. Throw it over here against the wall. Then, reach around and feel his belt in front and check his pants pockets, and ankles. If you find anything, you step back. Don’t try to get it. If he moves duck and I’ll kill him.”

  “Yes, I understand. Joey, I put my arms around you now. Don’t move. She’ll have to shoot you and I don’t want to be shot by accident. Okay?”

  “Alright. I’m-a stand real still.”

  “A cell phone in his front pocket and wallet in the back pocket,” Alana said after checking him.

  “How you doing Joey?” Nikky asked.

  “Alright.”

  “I think we’re doing good. We’ve been friends for what, one or two minutes? So far everything is real good. Can I trust you to do more good?”

  “Yes. I’ll do whatever you say.”

  “That’s good. I thought it would be a lot easier to cap your ass and move on. But you get special treatment. With your left hand, empty everything out of your pockets. Drop everything on the bed.”

  “Now?” he asked.

  “Yeah, go ahead. Do it real slow.”

  While he emptied his pockets Alana climbed over the bed and stood against the far wall.

  “Well, good for you Joey,” Nikky said, “It looks like you might make this work. I’m surprised, and a little disappointed. So here’s the deal. I’m tying you up in the bathroom. Now, this is where I have a problem. You see, I think you’re a punk and probably a snitch. If we leave you alive, you can tell the others, or the po-po, that you were set up by Alana here. That puts her in danger. You see, she’s risking her life to save your skank ass. I wouldn’t do it, but that’s the way she wants it. So, seems to me, you should say a big Mexican man wearing a ski mask got the drop on you. How does that sound to you?”

  “You can count on me. I’ll lay it on real thick how some big Mexican dude in a ski mask and with a Mexican accent did this.”

  “I don’t trust you for shit, but you know you’ll look like a real punk if you tell them a couple women got the better of your stupid ass. The other story will sound better, so you might stick to it.”

  Nikky moved Joey into the small bathroom where she had him put a hood on his head. With heavy duty tie wraps, she quick cuffed his hands to the plumbing under the sink. She made him wrap his legs around the bottom of the toilet and cuffed his ankles. It would hold a few hours until someone found him.

  “Now Joey, you lay here real quiet and you’ll be fine. If I hear any noise from this room, I’ll have to kill you.”

  * * *

  Outside

  Michelle and Jelena waited outside the door of apartment four.

  “Did you hear that?” Nikky’s voice came over the open line on her phone.

  “Yeah, Mondo in apartment four. We’ll move on it now.” Michelle said and hit the mute on her phone and put it in her pocket, then nodded to Jelena. “Go.”

  Jelena knocked on the door. “Open up lapochka, sweetie pie.” She continued a moment longer in Russian.

  The door opened a small crack, Jelena nodded, said something else in Russian and stepped through the door. Michelle followed.

  A petite blond with large, light gray eyes opened the door of apartment four. Jelena put her finger to her lips and the blond nodded. “Where is Mondo?” Jelena whispered.

  “In the bedroom with Maruska,” the blond whispered back.

  Two women sat in the living room they had walked into. A third woman came out of the bathroom. She eyed Michelle and Jelena, but didn’t say anything.

  Jelena again put her finger to her lips, then pointed to the couch and whispered to the woman who stood in the bathroom door and to the blond who had opened the door for them, “Go sit.”

  Jelena and Michelle stepped into the bedroom. The small room had two twin beds. One was against the far wall, one closer to the door. Mondo and the dark haired woman were on the twin bed pushed up against the far wall. Mondo was fucking her. Without looking over, he growled, “Get out.”

  “I don’t think so,” Michelle said.

  He jerked up, and looked at Michelle.

  Michelle and Jelena each held a silenced 9mm aimed at Mondo.

  “Jelena, tell her to climb across the bed and come to you,” Michelle said.

  Jelena said something in Russian.

  “Let her go,” Michelle said.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are? You come in my house and pull this shit. You done fucked up. I ever catch you bitch, you’re dead.” He pushed up sitting back on his knees.

  The woman squirmed out from under him and scrambled over the bed to Jelena. She spoke rapidly in Russian and held her hand out.

  “Now what?” Mondo asked drawing Michelle’s attention away from the two women.

  “How we play this is up to you,” Michelle said. “If you act right, you might live. If you act stupi —”

  PHUFFIITT! The first bullet hit Mondo in the chest. PHUFFIITT! PHUFFIITT! PHUFFIITT! PHUFFIITT! PHUFFIITT! PHUFFIITT! PHUFFIITT! PHUFFIITT! It was followed by a dozen more. He jerked spasmodically back against the wall.

  Jelena reached over and took her gun back from the dark haired woman. The naked woman walked in front of Michelle, around the bed, to Mondo’s body and spit on him. “Fuck you, asshole!” She turned to Michelle and said, “I get dressed.”

  “Well, alright then,” Michelle said. “That takes care of that.”

  * * *

  “What’s yo’ goddammed problem. I need to take those hoz on up to Montana like Mr. Ascia said,” Jack-Move shot back at Fast Eddie.

  With his forearms resting on his knees, Jack-Move sat forward on the edge of a large cream color Italian leather overstuffed chair in Fast Eddie’s living room. The chair had large roll-type arms and a high back. It was the type of chair that would almost swallow you if you leaned back into the deep cushions. A Samsung 78-inch, curved big-screen TV sat next to the chair. A basketball game was on.

  The large screen TV and oversized chair fit comfortably in the room. Fast Eddie had taken two of the one bedroom apartments for his own. He’d knocked down walls turning most of the space of one apartment into a single large living room.

  “You, you’re my problem. You lost the bitches we set you up wit’ in L.A. You come back here wit’ yo’ fucking tail between yo’ legs because you let some woman run you off,” Fast Eddie said.

  “You don’t know this bitch. She ain’t like most bitches,” Jack-Move said.

  “Bullshit. Bitches are all the same. Bitches are what you make them,” Fast Eddie said.

  “Yeah, that’s all good. That’s how I always see it too. But I’m telling you, Fast. Ascia is wrong. That cunt, Michelle, is coming. From what I hear out in L.A. she took out Jackson and his whole crew. Now she’s running the hoz. When I kilt her girl, the bitch didn’t back up at all. She came straight at me. My mistake was, I figured what the fuck, she’s only a woman. So I didn’t put no security on. You’re making the same mistake. You need to put on more men,” Jack-Move said.

  “Fuck that, and fuck you telling me how to run my bidness. You won’t get no bitches until I say so.”

  “I’m not telling you how to run things. It’s just that if I don’t get those bitches, like Ascia ordered, before that cunt kills yo’ stupid ass, things here are gonna be fucked for a while. But then I guess I’ll have to take over if that happens. So you keep being stupid and only have that kiss-ass Joey hanging around for security,” Jack-Move said.

  “Fuck you. Take yo’ loser ass outta here. Ascia told me I gotta set you up wit’ a stable, but he didn’t say when. I’ll tell you when, and it ain’t now. What’s happening right now is,
you need to get the fuck outta my house.”

  Jack-Move stepped out onto the cement walk in front of Fast Eddie’s apartment and lit a cigarette, then walked toward the street.

  Michelle opened the door of apartment four at the end of the row behind Jack-Move. She saw him walking away. Across the way, standing partially around the corner of the other row of apartments, G-Baby raised his hands in question. Jelena, behind her whispered, “What?”

  She signaled with a closed fist to freeze and be quiet.

  Frantically, she evaluated the situation. Could she hit him without alerting anyone inside? Her Glock was silenced. She couldn’t guarantee a head shot from this distance with a pistol. Anything less wouldn’t work.

  Damn, damn, damn. Let him go. FUCK! Muthafucka . . .

  Again, she signaled with a closed fist for everyone to remain still.

  He walked to the street, stopped, stood still shaking his head. He blew out smoke and flicked away his cigarette. Then just stood there.

  Frustration boiled inside her as she watched Jack-Move.

  Muthafucka, enjoy it you bastard, next time I see you . . .

  He stepped into the street, got into his car, then without looking at the apartments drove away. She counted a slow sixty to be sure he was gone and that she could talk, then unmuted her phone. “Nikky you there?”

  Nikky’s voice came back. “We’re good to go here.”

  “We’re good here also. You and Alana meet me at Fast Eddie’s.”

  Michelle stood against the wall next to the front door of Eddie’s apartment. Alana knocked and said, “Hey, it’s me, Alana. Let me in, I have some information from Joey for Fast Eddie.”

  Click. Click. Click. Michelle heard the sounds of three deadbolt locks as the woman unlocked the door. Alana walked inside, Michelle stepped in behind her. Nikky came in the room last and closed the door behind her.

  With his back to the door, focused on the game, and without looking back, he hollered, “What does that weasel want?”

  Michelle saw the silver .45 sitting on the table next to the chair where Fast Eddie sat. She stepped over and put the end of the silencer against the back of his head. “Don’t move a muscle.”

  The room froze. Alana and the woman next to her stood still. A woman on the velvet couch locked her eyes on Michelle. Fast Eddie sat still.

  “Slowly, with your elbow, push the gun on the floor,” Michelle told Fast Eddie.

  After he pushed the .45 onto the floor, Michelle stepped back two paces. “Stand up and face me.”

  Fast Eddie stood and turned around and looked at Michelle. He hadn’t said a word.

  “I’m Michelle Angelique. Like you, my ancestors were slaves. You don’t get to do this.”

  Exactly when Michelle said “this” three things happened at the same time. The TV erupted in noise from a winning shot. A woman stepped around the corner from the adjoining room and screamed. Fast Eddie dove for the gun on the floor.

  The woman started to run into the room. The crowd on the TV cheered. Fast Eddie hit the floor with a bullet in his chest. He was fast, but not fast enough. He reached for the gun and died as the second bullet destroyed his brain.

  Again the room froze. Michelle held her gun down, but at the ready. She watched the woman who had screamed. The woman stood motionless as all color drained from her face.

  “You killed him,” the woman who had screamed, said in a tiny voice.

  Alana, the first to move, stepped over and slapped her hard across the face. “Motka! Look at me. He’s dead. We are free. You have no power any more. You can come with us, or die here. If you come, you will not ever be China Doll again. You try to be China Doll, I will kill you myself.”

  “Alana, tell them to be still. First thing, I want everyone’s phone. All of them, now. Also tell them we’re moving them to a safe place. They’re free to go or stay and wait for Ascia. But, if they don’t give you their phone they can join Fast Eddie on the floor.”

  Alana translated.

  Two women held their phones out to be taken. One pointed to her purse sitting on the end table. Motka stood still not responding.

  Michelle dug the phone out of the purse.

  Alana said, “Motka, phone or dead. NOW!”

  Motka flinched, then focused. “In the bedroom, I go get it.”

  “No. Don’t move. Nikky, you go,” Michelle said. She checked her watch, it showed 9:06. Nine minutes had passed from the time they came through the back gate. They had fifty-seven minutes before the train left. The drive took twenty-two minutes. Give everyone a few minutes to move from the vans to the train, they had close to thirty minutes to be packed, loaded in the vans, and ready to go. She wanted them out in half that time.

  Nikky returned with both the phone and the gun she found in Motka’s purse. “I also found his laptop and four external drives. I’ll grab them and take them with us.”

  Michelle said, “You, Motka, go sit in that chair over by the TV. Alana, tell them they have fifteen minutes to pack one small travel bag. I want everyone ready and standing outside the door. Tell one of them to pack Motka’s bag. She stays in that chair until we leave.”

  While Alana translated, Michelle picked up Fast Eddie’s gun and dropped it in the bag with the collected cell phones.

  Nikky went to the desk in the corner. She started removing cables, getting the computers and hard drives ready for transport.

  With her 9mm at the ready, Michelle slowly opened the door. She popped her head out and checked the apartment where Jelena and G-Baby went earlier. Jelena stood in the open door. She gave Michelle a thumbs-up signal. Michelle returned the signal.

  Counting Jelena, there were thirty-one Russian women. Twenty-nine would catch the train to New Orleans. Two would stay in the Houston area.

  Michelle didn’t need to be concerned about the time limit, the last women were ready to go in nine minutes. They were all dressed, bags in hand, quietly waiting for instructions. Three minutes later, three vans packed with women pulled out of the alley, headed to the train station and away from a life of servitude.

  The fourth van, driven by Michelle, had a different destination.

  Twenty-Seven: Special Delivery

  PUSHED AGAINST THE SIDE, on the floor in the back, the fourth van held a single size dense foam mattress. Zoya, Alana’s sister, rode quietly in the bed while Alana held her hand.

  Less than an hour later, the fourth van backed into the garage of the rented townhouse in Galveston.

  “Hi, Michelle,” Miss Betty said.

  “Hey, Miss Betty.” Michelle hopped out of the van and the women hugged. “Thanks for helping out with this.”

  “Nothing to it, child. We girls need to stick together.”

  “That we do.” Michelle opened the double doors at the rear of the cargo van. “Miss Betty, this is Alana and this is Zoya.”

  “Hello, ladies. I’m glad to meet you. Zoya, do you need help climbing out of the van?”

  Zoya said, “Hello” in English, then something in Russian to Alana.

  “She said, she feels so strong now we are away from assholes, she can carry you inside,” Alana translated.

  Everyone laughed.

  After helping settle Zoya in her room, Michelle sipped a Pepsi and talked with Miss Betty.

  “What do you think?” Michelle asked.

  “She’s real weak. The good news is, since she hasn’t taken a turn for the worse in the past couple of days, I don’t think there is anything busted inside that won’t heal with enough rest. That’s just a guess based on my experience having seen this type of thing with women before. I don’t think we need to get her to a hospital, but to be safe, she should be checked by a doctor if we can get one.”

  “On the way in I called a guy I know in Atlanta,” Michelle said. “He’s sending a doctor he’s used before. If my guy in Atlanta trusts him, the doc’s good.”

  “The monster who did this hurt her bad,” Miss Betty said. “My guess is it’ll take
at least a couple weeks before she’s strong enough to be up a whole day. It’ll be another month after that before she can go to work. I rented the condo for two months, but they should be ready to travel in one,” Miss Betty said.

  Michelle looked around at the nice townhouse-style condo. “How’d you get it for two months?”

  “Sublet, cash up-front. The guy wanted me to take it for longer, but seemed in a bit of a bind so he said okay to the short time.”

  “How long can you stay?” Michelle asked.

  “As long as I need to. But that’s not the biggest issue here. You know the big problem will be keeping Alana inside after the first week or two.”

  Michelle rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I didn’t think much about that.”

  “You have to make her understand she can’t go outside as long as Ascia is alive. You might be in Galveston, but it’s still his backyard. He’ll have people on the lookout for his girls. With her looks and accent, she’ll stand out like a sore thumb around here.”

  “I think she’s been through a lot and has the discipline to do whatever it will take. But, still, I’ll talk to her,” Michelle said.

  “What about you, child? You look plum worn out,” Miss Betty said.

  “It’s already been a long-ass day, but there’re a few things I still have to do. I need to get back to Houston immediately.”

  “I understand how that is. Don’t worry about these two. I’ll take good care of them.”

  “Thanks again. You’re the greatest.” Michelle gave Miss Betty a hug, climbed back into the van and headed to the freeway.

  It only took a few seconds to kill a man. But it was more exhausting than working an eighteen hour shift. Bone tired or not, Michelle needed to stay awake and alert. She drove with the windows down and country music blasting. She had found it was best to sing along with music she didn’t like all that much. It kept her focused trying to remember the words. The funny thing was she had begun to like some of the songs.

  Tired but alert, Michelle headed north on the 45, back towards Houston.

  Startled by the ringing of her phone, she grabbed and answered it. “Sup, Uncle G?”