Retribution

by Lietha Wards

  Ryan glanced at the stack of money then back to the other man, “I never said I’d take the job, Mr. Nickolov.” His voice was even and self-assured, like everything else about him.

  “You don’t have a choice.” He reached in the drawer and pulled out another stack, flapping it back and forth, “I just upped your salary to thirty thousand a month. You belong to me now.” He tossed it next to the other one. “And if you don’t take the job—” he leaned forward in his seat making eye contact “—I’ll have you killed. That’s how much I need you.”

  The man wasn’t kidding. There was no sense of humor in that cold soulless stare. Ryan actually smiled arrogantly not the least bit frightened. Peter thought that anyone could be bought with money or intimidated. It was never even a consideration that Ryan wasn’t there for that reason. It would be his downfall. Conceited prick, he thought to himself.

  The other man shrugged thinking he knew what that smile meant. He didn’t have a man that matched Ryan’s talent so he wouldn’t be an easy man to kill. “Or I can try,” he said finally smiling coldly. “Anyway, it’s important to me. I’ve already lost one daughter. I can’t lose the other. She’s all I have left.” His expression pinched at the memory. He abruptly stood up and walked to the window folding his hands behind his broad back and looking out at nothing in particular. “This is a fucked up world Mr. Casey. I’ve done some horrid things in my life and I don’t want my daughter to pay for it again.” He turned around and looked at him. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone, so don’t take it personally.” He nodded toward the stack of money that Ryan had yet to touch, “but I trust money. That will make you loyal.” Peter already knew that Ryan liked money because he was wearing a three thousand dollar suit. That was the reason he upped his salary. He considered himself quite observant. He didn’t come from a poor one bedroom home in Chechnya to being rich by being stupid. “I would consider this a personal favor.” He said that last bit as if Ryan had a lot to gain from a favor.

  Ryan already knew he was going to take the job but he had to make this look good. He rubbed his forefinger over the stubble on his chin and set his eyes on the stacks of cash. After a moment of mock consideration, he leaned forward, reached over and fanned his thumb through one of the stacks of crisp one hundred dollar bills as if it was normal to receive a stack of untraceable unmarked bills. Then he took both stacks and placed them inside his suit jacket pocket and met Peter’s eyes again. “When do you want me to start?”

  “Today. Now.” Peter turned back to him finally letting his expression soften a little. There may have been a hint of relief there also, but it was gone quickly.

  Ryan remained seated. Peter may have been done, but he wasn’t. “First, we need to be clear on a few things.”

  “Clear?”

  “Yes. I’m not an assassin. No matter what that file says, or what I’ve done in the past. I’m only here to protect your daughter. I also do not take orders from your men—only you and only in regards to your daughter’s safety—well, most of the time I’ll do my own thing anyway.”

  “Is that right?” Peter obviously didn’t like someone telling him how things were. His expression darkened.

  “You wanted the best Mr. Nickolov. These are the reasons I’m good at what I do. I’ve also done my homework. I know what you do and I don’t care. I’ve worked for more powerful men, but my terms are always consistent. I’m here for your daughter. If you expect something else, I’ll walk.” There was no way in hell he was going to help this bastard run drugs or protect shipments in any way. He had to be clear and he had to be in control of this job. There was a slight twist in the man’s expression and Ryan knew it was anger, but he did his best to hide it well. He thought he might have blown it until Peter spoke.

  “You’re hired as of right now. Ivan will get you settled upstairs.” He waved two fingers toward one of the two sentinel men standing behind Ryan.

  Well, apparently he accepted his terms. “All right,” he said turning and looking at Ivan, studying him with a quick expert glance like he did everyone he met. His experience allowed him to sum up someone’s skills in that short time. Ivan was a thick bodied man that looked to be in his mid-forties. He already knew who Ivan was. In fact, he knew the names of all the men in Peter’s employ.

  Ivan Demetrev, was Peter’s most loyal and would do anything for him. Well, if Ivan was his best man, he certainly didn’t have anything to worry about. Ivan seemed more on the chubby side unlike him who was solidly built, but he still didn’t underestimate any of the men who Peter had under his employ because they had no limits on what they would do for him. He was adamant only to hire those that were fiercely loyal, preferably his own countrymen, and they usually had specific talents. They were fearless. Not particularly smart though. Take Ivan for example. He could tell from the scarring on his knuckles that he was familiar with busting facial bones. He was also the one that patted him down when he first came into the office. Ryan handed over his handguns he kept in his shoulder holsters without a second thought. He didn’t need them to cause damage if needed. Yet he missed the knife he kept strapped on the inside calf, an easy find. There was a look in the man’s eyes when he first came in too. It was a look that basically said he didn’t belong there. Obviously Peter’s men didn’t like outside help.

  “Mr. Casey.”

  He turned back to Peter at the sound of his name.

  “My daughter is getting released from the hospital today. She needs someone to go and get her—preferably you. She will not see me now.” His eyes went to his men. “Or them. I need someone else. Someone she will learn to respect. She needs to be brought back here. Nowhere else is safe until we find the bastards who killed my other daughter.”

  “I understand.”

  “She’s been through a lot so I don’t expect you will find her in the best of moods.”

  “How does she feel about a bodyguard?”

  “Probably the same she feels about me; distrustful and angry. She’s had them before, though, maybe not of your caliber, and it’s been a few years, but enough to be able to tolerate them.” Peter smiled without emotion. “She’ll do it though. She witnessed her sister’s death. She’s frightened. However, you’re smart. I know you can handle her.”

  Handle her? Like he thought before, how hard could it be? She was probably a sheltered spoiled princess and would just need to be told the rules. He was certain she wouldn’t be a problem. Besides, she was his way in. If there was resistance, he’d make her listen. His agenda was more important than a socialite’s safety.

  Ryan also didn’t ask what happened. He already knew. His superiors gave him everything on Peter Nickolov and his family. Both women were abducted outside a nightclub and the younger was found three days later tied, gagged and left near one of Peter’s whorehouses. The older, found dead, washed up on a beach. None of the intel he had on the family knew what had happened. He only knew about the autopsy on Anna Nickolov. The surviving sister was questioned, but she said she didn’t see their faces or hear anything. She was kept bound, gagged and blindfolded the entire time. Ryan knew that wasn’t true. You always hear something, see something, or smell something that you would never forget. He knew this for a fact. She was lying because she was terrified. That would work in his favor. She needed him and he would do his best to protect her, but his priority was his brother’s killer.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The morgue was cold. It wasn’t the first one he’d been in, but this time it was different—horrid. The chill ran deep this time, all the way to his bones. One of his superiors, and a good friend, Ned Sampson, stood beside him with his hand on his shoulder for support. Ryan didn’t show any emotion when the coroner placed his hands on either side of the stark white sheet at the head of the body and smoothly folded it back to reveal the handsome face of the dead man on the slab. A man, that was once a child he played with, fought with and shared a brotherly bond that was unbreakable. Icy fingers wrapped around his heart
as his eyes studied the man beneath. Nothing in his expression stirred, but the anguish was deep. He swallowed hard to curb the emotions. They cleaned him up for the viewing, but it didn’t hide the bullet hole in his forehead. Execution style. A mixture of rage and devastation hit him like a sledge hammer to the gut, and he actually felt his knees go weak for a moment. Still, you wouldn’t know it by the lack of expression on his face.

  “Sir?”

  His eyes went to the coroner. “Yes,” he finally said calmly. “That’s him.” He felt Ned’s fingers squeeze his shoulder.

  “I need you to say his name,” the detective said.

  Ryan shifted his gaze to man who stood opposite of him beside the coroner, Detective William Kinsley. He’d introduced himself when they met outside the morgue’s double steel doors. He’d almost forgotten he stood there. He’d been silent until now, out of respect. He was there doing his job, and he could see sympathy in the man’s eyes. Not just for him, but for the man on the cold slab—one of their own.

  “That’s Georgy Lavoie, also known as George Casey, but he kept my mother’s maiden name.”

  “Why?”

  Ryan moved his eyes back to his brother. “To make sure no one knew he was my brother.” He returned his gaze to the detective. “To protect his family.”

  The detective’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly does that—”

  “—We’re done here. If you have any questions you can contact our office,” Ned interrupted as he handed a card to the detective. “Although, that is probably all the cooperation you are going to get Detective Kinsley, because that’s all he knows. You have your ID of the body. Your interrogation of my employee ends here.” Ned’s words were absolute, and held an air of authority no one could match.

  The detective took the card and looked at it. “This is blank except for a phone number.”

  “Yes, I know. Call that number and you’ll get all the information that you would get here.” Meaning, nothing. He patted Ryan on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Bill knew exactly what that meant. He could feel this slipping away from him and he really wanted to close this case. They wouldn’t have even known he’d had a brother if it wasn’t for Georgy’s widow. She had some phone number in case of emergency, but nothing else. She’d never even met the man, but she couldn’t bear to see her husband the way he was—a corpse. “Mr. Casey, please,” the detective said. “Just a moment alone—off the record. He was a good cop. I want to close this out of respect for his family, for us.”

  Ryan paused and thought for a moment. Yes, Georgy was a good cop, and a good detective and family man. He was honest, righteous and had integrity. He wanted to save the world, just like their father did. Then he went into undercover work despite having a young family. He worked in the narcotics division. Why would he risk such a thing? He was angry with him, but he was dead, and there was nothing he could do to bring him back. Finally, Ryan looked at his boss and nodded that it was okay.

  “You have sixty seconds.” He exchanged firm glances with Ryan and the detective, then left.

  “Thank you,” William said stepping up to Ryan while flipping pages in his notebook.

  “You heard him, sixty seconds.” Ryan repeated and near flinched when the coroner slid the slab containing his brother back in the drawer and shut it with a metallic snap.

  “I’ll be quick. Do you know anything of his undercover work?”

  “No. It may surprise you Detective, but I haven’t talked to my brother in almost ten years. You’ll have to talk to his superiors.”

  Bill sighed. “I have already. They won’t give me a damn thing. Did you two have a falling out?”

  Ryan found it in him to smile. “I didn’t kill him. If you hadn’t figured it out by now, I work for a very—distinct division. I stayed away from him to protect him. We were as close as brothers get. We would have done anything for each other.”

  Bill stared at the other man for a moment. He’d served five years in the Marines and could easily recognize another war veteran. Only, despite the brief glimpse of grief he’d witnessed, which was barely discernable, he was unreadable. This man was specially trained beyond what he knew. “Special Forces?”

  Ryan took a deep breath and stared at him. “A long time ago, it seems. But yes, I was. Now I work deeper than that. I’m untouchable Detective, if you hadn’t noticed, so I have nothing to lose. I didn’t kill my brother and if you ask for an alibi, I can have twelve people claiming to have been with me the night he was killed, in your office, in an hour; one of them being a close relative or friend of yours. Those dozen people could produce photographs, receipts and film footage of places I’d never been.” Ryan noticed that the man didn’t even seem surprised at that confession.

  “Yeah, I figured that out after five minutes of meeting you.”

  Ryan shrugged. He had nothing to lose by telling him what he knew. “I loved him. He was my only family left. Now I have to worry about his two children and his widow. Three people I’ve never met. Georgy wasn’t stupid. Whatever he got caught up with was smarter than him. He was an honest man. He believed in things that some people give up on—like justice.”

  Bill nodded. “I lost my father in the line of duty Mr. Casey. I know the pain you feel now. I also know that your father served thirty five years as a detective in Chicago. He was decorated the likes I’ve never seen. We are a dying breed of honest men, like your brother. Even my current partner takes kickbacks to look the other way. I can’t trust him. So, off the record, I’m asking that you do me a favor?”

  Ryan thought for a moment. This conversation was off the record. Even if it wasn’t, he couldn’t be touched. “What is it?”

  “I met him once, your brother. He was everything you just told me. I know that you think me just a man assigned to this investigation, but I became a detective for the same reasons as your brother.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t within hearing distance of anyone. “All I want for you to do, when you’ve taken care of the person who did this, that you bury the body deep, so it doesn’t land on my desk. I’m not a fan of paperwork and you are too damn calm not to let this affect you. I’m not stupid either Mr. Casey. I also have a brother.”

  Ned opened the door at that moment. “Time is up.”

  Ryan nodded that he’d heard him but kept his eyes on the detective. Then, finally, he spoke. “My pleasure.”

  That was several weeks ago. Now, he was working for the organization that he knew was responsible. It was a lot of research and intelligence on his part, but he was certain it was the Nickolov organization. His resources were solid. His superiors gave him leave to seek retribution. They really didn’t have a choice. He was going to do it anyway. Then, almost as if it were meant to be, there was an opportunity when the two daughters were kidnapped.

  A week went by before Peter Nickolov’s oldest daughter’s body washed up on Miami Beach. According to the coroner her body was tortured, sexually assaulted and mutilated. Her hands and her face mutilated beyond recognition. Her father identified her by a tattoo. Ryan went and paid a personal visit to the body of Anna Nickolov himself. Or what was left of it. The torture was gender specific and horrific. He’d worked overseas and had seen this handiwork before. The killers were from the Middle East. This was a statement. Apparently there’s some serious competition for the Nickolov family.

  The day after the older sister’s body was discovered, the younger sister was found alive. She’d spent the past few weeks under guard at the hospital recuperating. He’d seen the news footage. It was high profile because of the wealth the family had and the status of her father with the city of Miami. She was a mess; battered and bruised on the outside, and there’s no telling the mental anguish she’d experienced. Public support was immense, and it disgusted Ryan. It boosted his popularity. Only if the people knew what this man really did.

  Well, he’d seen worse things happen to innocent people. Some things were hard to erase fr
om his memory, but he didn’t let it affect him. He was good at what he did. Still, when you think you’ve seen it all, you realize, you haven’t. As for Peter’s daughters, it wasn’t his business and he didn’t ask anything about it because he probably already knew more than Peter and he had another focus. Peter seemed to appreciate that.

  “I think you’ll do just fine Mr. Casey.”

  Ryan stood up and adjusted his suit, “Which hospital?” He already knew, but he had to play the part.

  Peter waved an arm toward his man. “Ivan will fill you in and provide the transport.”

  He’d just been dismissed. That was fine with him. He could barely stand being in the same room with the man. Ryan turned to leave when he heard his name.

  “She knows what I do because during her captivity she was told, so I’m letting you know that she hates everyone right now. She blames me for Anna’s death.”

  Ryan blamed him too. He could hear the sadness in his voice and honestly didn’t give a shit. He came in there knowing about the murder of his oldest daughter and the trauma of the youngest and he just didn’t care. He just couldn’t lose sight of why he was there or who this man really was.

  Public sympathy was outpouring for Councilman Nickolov when the media got a hold of the story. They painted him as a distraught father. What the public didn’t know, is that he was responsible for more deaths than car accidents in the last year in Miami alone. This didn’t even factor in the prostitution and murder. He was a powerful man who controlled more than half the drug trade on the east coast with plans on controlling it all. He made more than a hundred million a year according to his taxes, but that is only a fraction of his real income. The rest was laundered through dummy companies. So, there were many reasons Ryan wanted to bring this man down, but the most important was one of Peter’s men murdered his brother. He knew Peter gave the order, but he wanted the trigger man.

  His superiors wanted him for another reason. Peter had political connections deep enough to get his hands on that file. It was dangerous having a man like Peter have ties that deep in powerful circles.