by Mac Fortner
“Ah Cam, good morning. How did you fare last night?” he said regaining his composure.
“Well, I would have liked to have gone to bed about three hours earlier. I always rise early, even if it’s a late night.”
“Yes, me too.”
“Are you staying at the Hilton?”
“Yes, I was. I didn’t want to intrude on the hospitality of an old friend.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your name last night,” I said extending my hand to shake his.
“Adrian Boykov. I am a friend of Tom Carrington’s. I was in town visiting, and he didn’t want to leave me alone for the night. I hope I didn’t cause you any inconvenience.”
“None at all. The more, the merrier. Will you be in town for a while?”
“No. I must leave today for a week. I will return after that.”
“Maybe we can get together then.”
“I hope so.”
“Here, this taxi is waiting for me, but I’ll be glad to drop you,” I offered.
“No thank you, here is another he said as a taxi pulled to the curb.
Adrian said, “Goodbye for now,” and got in the taxi and left.
Andrei looked out the back window of the taxi and watched Cam watching him. That was not a good encounter. We were not supposed to talk. I must change hotels and names.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
“Hertz car rental please.”
Andrei held his case in his lap. He could feel the weight of the rifle inside.
~***~
I bought six Bagels, raspberry cream cheese, Cinnamon Sticks and some Biscotti. I returned to the taxi still thinking about the chance encounter with Adrian Boykov. I made a mental note to ask Chad if Tom had mentioned bringing a friend.
When I returned to the apartment, Chad was still asleep, so I changed into my running clothes and headed out for my morning therapy. I grabbed a taxi and went to Central Park.
It was a beautiful morning, and the run through Central Park was rejuvenating. After twenty minutes I realized I should have eaten something. I changed my course and ran to a pastry shop across the street. I bought a donut and a cup of coffee and returned to the park. I sat on a park bench watching the other runners and walkers. I felt a little funny eating a donut while they were working so hard to fight off the very poison I was ingesting, but not so bad that I couldn’t enjoy it. We all have our little vices; mine was pastry, among others.
The morning sun was rising higher in the sky now bringing shorter shadows and more brilliant colors to the landscape. I took a deep breath and inhaled the cool air of spring. It seems to sharpen the mind and make the world clearer.
In my heightened state of awareness, I was watching three very shapely, young women run by, when a voice from my right said, “Busted.”
I turned to see Robin standing there in her running clothes.
“Really,” she said. “You’re sitting on a park bench eating a donut and ogling young coeds.”
“Yep,” I said. “Would you like some?” I offered, knowing she had too much discipline to indulge.
“Yep,” she said, taking the donut from my hand and eating it in one big bite.
“Hey! That was my last bite.”
“You shouldn’t have offered it.”
We laughed, “Have a seat,” I said, moving over.
She sat and kissed me.
“I didn’t know the morning was going to be this good,” I said.
“Neither did I. Now you’re going to have to do something nice for me since I caught you girl watching.”
“I did. I gave you my donut.”
“Hum. That is quite a sacrifice for you, I guess.”
“I’ll be more than happy to take you out to dinner tonight on top of that.”
“It’s a deal if I can get away.”
“Any more word on the Russian assassin?”
“No, not a word. We have lost all communication with him. We’re just waiting for him to send a message back to whoever sent for him.”
“Speaking of Russians, there was a Russian at out bachelor party last night.”
“Was she the stripper?”
“No, thank God. She was a he, and neither Chad nor I knew him. I ran into him again this morning as he was leaving the Hilton for the airport. He said his name is Adrian Boykov and Tom Carrington invited him.”
“So, did you ask Tom?”
“Not yet. I just got that info this morning.”
“You sound suspicious.”
“Just cautious, I guess. Remember the drink delivered to our table? The waitress said the man had a Russian accent. I suppose that coupled with you talking about a Russian assassin has made me a little leery.”
“You have a wild imagination. Of all the people in New York, you think the assassin is after you.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“True, but he’s dead now,” Robin said, referring to the case in Key West we went through tree months ago.
“I’m not worried, just curious.”
“Well,” Robin said, “I have to get back to my run. I can’t let you be a bad influence on me any longer.”
“I’ll run with you to the other end of the park, and then I need to go home and check on Chad.”
“Okay. Let’s race.”
“Wait, you didn’t tell me what you girls did last night.”
“I know.”
With that, she took off and was way ahead of me by the time I disposed of my coffee cup.
Chapter 12
The day before the wedding, Chad and I had a rather exciting morning in court. Emanuel Barona, allegedly the number two crime boss in New York’s western district, vowed to kill us both. Even though we got him off for ordering the hit on four Vietnamese soldiers, who “hypothetically” invaded his territory. He said we let the prosecutor drag his name through the mud.
Maybe we did just a little, but the creep should have spent the rest of his life in prison anyway. Two hours later he called me on my private cell number, which I give to no one, and apologized. He said he was still jazzed from the turmoil in court and didn’t mean it.
That gave us a little relief, but you just can’t trust that guy. He might just be covering himself and allowing us to drop our guard. We reported the threat to Chief McNally of the NYPD anyway.
He said, “Thank you; if you show up dead, it will help us fry the guy.”
I don’t think he likes lawyers.
Once back at the office I called Robin and told her of the threat.
“I guess you want me to protect you now,” she said.
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to at least work under-covers with me tonight.”
“I knew you wanted something.”
“You can read me like a book.”
“I’ll be there around seven. Are you ready for the wedding tomorrow?”
“Yep; I’ve got my tux and speech all ironed out.”
“Good boy.”
“The wedding has grown a little, though. Instead of you and I and four or five others, there’ll be somewhere around two-hundred attendees.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been helping Alexis with the invitations for a month now.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“No, she didn’t want it to get back to Chad too soon. She was afraid it would scare him. His family will be there also.”
“Great, I hoped they would.”
“See ya tonight,” she said.
“Okay; love ya.”
“I know.”
After hanging up Robin thought about how much she loved Cam, but she vowed to herself to never get too involved with anyone, much less marry. Her job was too dangerous. If she dragged Cam into her world, he could become a target for her enemies. She loved him too much for that. That’s why she only tells him occasionally that she loves him.
“I hope we can keep our relationship on an even keel for a long time,” she said aloud to herself.
~
***~
Andrei finished his supper and ordered his usual bourbon on the rocks. He sipped it as he surveyed the restaurant. One young girl caught his attention. She was dining alone at a corner table while reading a novel.
“Hello,” Andrei said as he approached her table. “May I join you?”
The girl looked him over briefly and said, “Sure, have a seat.”
An hour later, holding her driver’s license up, Andrei told her if she ever said a word to anyone he would kill her family.
She wiped the tears from her eyes, pulled her dress up and left the room.
~***~
The sun was almost down now, and Andrei was ready to choose a victim.
He opened the case holding his rifle and removed a plastic bag, which held a wig and fake mustache.
Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror he was satisfied. Anyone who saw him would never recognize him again without these.
He closed the case, picked it up and surveyed the room one last time. Satisfied that there was no trace of him left behind, he walked out the door. He took the elevator to the 21st floor, he exited and stepped into the stairway leading to the rooftop.
The roof, covered with pea gravel, crunched beneath his step. He made a mental note to clean his shoes good when he left the building.
Andrei found a spot on the south corner of the building which offered a perfect view of the two intersecting streets below.
He opened his case and assembled his father’s Dragunov SVD rifle. This Russian-built rifle has been used by their military and his father for over fifty years and is still Andrei’s weapon of choice.
Now, he thought, it’s time for some fun. I need to kill someone to get in the mood. I hate to start a job cold.
He attached the scope and made the necessary adjustments. Looking through the scope now, he surveyed the streets below.
A young lady with her child holding tightly to her mother’s hand, crossed the street. No, not them, he thought. I am a killer, but not a monster.
Two men in their mid-twenties, one black and one Hispanic, were crossing the street in the opposite direction. As they passed the young mother, one of the men spun around and bashed her jaw. She went down and didn’t move. The punks laughed and pointed at the little girl lying next to her mother, still holding her hand.
This made his mind go back to the beginning.
It all started one morning on the way to school.
“Come on Annika,” Andrei said to his little sister as he was placing his breakfast bowl in the sink, “We’re going to be late for school.”
Andrei was twelve years old, a year older than his sister. It was his job to protect her and get off to school every morning. A job he didn’t mind. He loved her. She was easy to love. She had a great personality and a very caring way about her that made you feel as though she was actually taking care of you.
They picked up their backpacks and filled them with lunch bags and books. Andrei called to their mother on the way out the door, “We’re off to school. Love you.”
“Be careful, love you too,” his mother called back.
They walked hand and hand down the sidewalk. The sky was dark. It was threatening to storm. They pulled their coats up around their necks tighter.
“Looks like rain,” Andrei said.
Annika squeezed his hand tighter. He smiled.
They passed by a tall hedge only two blocks from their house. He didn’t see the attackers hiding there. Before he knew it, he was on the ground being kicked. Seeing the boys now for the first time, he recognized one of them as the new kid at school. The other three he had known forever. They were two years older and had been getting into trouble on a regular basis.
The next kick was to the head. His world went dark.
When Andrei awoke, his head was killing him. Feeling his jaw, he was sure it was broken. Searching the area, he saw his sister lying behind the bushes. She was naked and not moving. He got to his hands and knees and crawled to her. “Annika,” he said over and over. “Annika, are you okay?” she moved slightly. Her nose looked as though it was broken and she had blood between her legs.
“No, No,” he said.
He found her clothes and laid them over her. Cradling her head in his lap, he said, “Wake up Annika. Wake up.”
She stirred again and opened her eyes.
She would make it, but Andrei knew she would never be the same. Neither would he.
He helped her dress and walked her back home. Their mother burst into tears when she saw them. “I’ll call the doctor,” she said
That night Andrei went to his father’s closet and removed a case which held his hunting rifle. He had seen it many times when his parents were gone, and he was alone in the house. Andrei liked the feel of it and always wanted to shoot it. Now he would.
He lay waiting in the dark for the boys to appear from the shadows in the park where he knew they hung out. There they were. He placed the cross-hairs on the new kid and without hesitating he squeezed the trigger. The gun jumped slightly, but through the scope, he saw the boy fall. Working quickly, he turned the scope onto the other three one at a time until they all lay still.
The gun was not as loud as he thought it would be. It didn’t draw any attention from the neighboring houses. He walked to the still bodies lying on the ground and peered down at them. He felt nothing but satisfaction.
One of them moved. Andrei pulled his knife from his pocket and raised the boys head.
“This is for Annika,” he said to the kid, and slowly sliced through his neck, then faster and more forceful until the head was severed from the body.
He threw the head as far as he could, then wiped the blade off on the boy's shirt. “See ya in hell, when I get there,” he said and walked away.
The police had made a statement that the ballistics report showed the rifle used was the same one used in ten other assassinations. That was when Andrei realized his father was an assassin. Now he was one too. His father realized at the same time what had happened.
Over the years his father taught him the rules of killing and how best to do it. Now here he was, his own man and still killing.
“Yes, they are the ones,” Andrei said aloud and focused the scope on the one who struck the woman.
It was an easy shot. Andrei squeezed the trigger, and the man’s head exploded. His friend, trying to figure out what just happened, only stood there staring at the bloody carnage on the street. Five seconds later his head also exploded.
Andrei disassembled his rifle and set it back in the case. He withdrew a card from his pocket and laid it on the edge of the roof. He placed a handful of gravel on the card so it would not blow away. The card only read, BLOODSHOT. By tomorrow the police will have traced the bullets flight and found the card. Andrei would be back in New York City by then.
Andrei returned to his rental car, placed the case in the trunk and sat behind the wheel. It didn’t feel right to him. He never just picked a target at random like this. His father had taught him better than that.
The FBI would wonder why an assassin came all the way from Russia just to kill two punks in Washington DC. He wouldn’t. They would know it was just a diversion. What was I thinking? I must retrieve my card.
Andrei left the case in the trunk of the car and returned to the roof-top. As he opened the door, he saw a man standing at the edge of the roof where he had shot from. He was looking at something in his hand. It was the card. The man must have heard the door open because he turned and looked at Andrei.
“What happened?” Andrei said. “I thought I heard a shot.”
“Yeah, come here and check this out,” the man said, holding up the card and pointing to the street below.
Andrei walked to the edge where the man was standing and looked down at the street.
“What the hell?”
“It looks like someone shot those guys from here and left this card,” the man said.
“May I see the card?”
&nbs
p; The man handed Andrei the card. He held it close and pretended to read it.
“Bloodshot.”
“Crazy, huh.”
“Yeah. Can you see who was shot.”
“Yeah, right over there. Two men and a woma….”
The man never got the rest of “woman” out. Andrei pushed him, and he fell twenty-one stories to the sidewalk below.
What a mess, Andrei thought. He turned and exited the roof. As he closed the door, he saw three gang members walking toward him.
They were dressed in blue jeans that were hanging below their ass. They had big silver and gold chains around their necks and their ball caps on backward.
“Whut we got here?” one of them said while holding his crouch.
“Look like a honkey mother fucker wif a nie watch,” another said.
The third raised his shirt and showed Andrei a gun.
“Give us your wallet and your watch,” he said.
“Yeah, muthafucka. Now.”
Andrei wished he had his gun now. It was a long way to the car. I guess I’ll just have to improvise, he thought.
“Watch first,” the one with the gun said, stepping closer.
Andrei removed his watch and extended it toward the man. As the man reached for it, Andrei grabbed his hand and spun him around, at the same time he placed his hand on the man’s gun. Andrei pulled the trigger, and the gun fired. The punk screamed in pain. Andrei pulled the gun from the man’s pants and kicked him forward towards the other two.
The one who had been shot was still screaming. “Muthafucka, you shot my dick off,” he cried.
“Whut the fuck man,” the first one said. “We gonna kill you now.”
Andrei pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger.
A hole opened up in the man’s forehead, and he fell to the floor.
“Woo muthafucka. You un go now. We don what no mo twuble.”
Andrei pointed the gun at the other two and one at a time he shot them in the head.
He retrieved his watch and fastened it back onto his wrist. He wiped the gun clean and dropped it on one of the men’s chest.