by Ryan Stygar
“Whoa okay, okay” Adam turned off the faucet and shook his tingling red hand dry. “Just chill man. We aren’t storming the beaches of Normandy here.”
This kid needs a life outside of work.
“Hurry up!” Keith bellowed. Sweat matted down his hair against his pink forehead. He seemed even more agitated than usual, which was really saying something for him. Come to think of it, he looked a lot like Porky the Pig when he was mad, only fatter and much less lovable.
“I said I’m going, Keith!” Adam said with his hands up. The door slammed shut behind him then clicked as Keith locked it from the inside. Adam thought he heard sobbing from the other side of the door.
What a strange personality that guy has.
When Adam pushed open the swinging double doors that led to the parking garage, the reason for Keith’s erratic behavior was instantly revealed. Adam’s stomach clenched. That chubby little bitch sold me out!
An S-Class Mercedes was idling not more than twenty paces from where Adam stood. Standing beside the open rear door, the man called Joe glared silently at him. Somehow, the Russian had found him. Adrenaline surged through Adam’s muscles. Okay great talk, see you later buddy!
He turned to run but was instantly blocked by a bear-sized man who was wearing at least and entire bottle of cologne.
“No leaving. You must come with Mr. Petrov,” he growled in his thick East European accent.
“Who the hell is Mr. Petrov?!” Adam blurted out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Adam continued to struggle as the Russian bear seized him by the shoulders and dragged him toward the Mercedes.
“What are you doing? Let me go! I said let go! Help! Help!”
While the bear hauled Adam to the car, Joe began speaking to him as if this was a perfectly normal way to have a meeting with someone.
“Please do not fuss, Mr. Friend, you are only embarrassing yourself.”
Joe’s bodyguard hurled Adam into the backseat. He struggled to kick and wrestle his way to freedom but he was no match for the freakishly strong man. Adam was easily forced into the seat and buckled in as if the guard was a well-seasoned babysitter and Adam was just a small child throwing a tantrum. Satisfied that his subject was properly secured in his place, the bear-man seated himself at the driver’s seat. Joe joined Adam in the rear. The doors slammed shut, and the black car peeled out of the garage.
“You did not call as you were instructed. It took much effort to locate you, for that you will get only half pay,” He tossed a stack of five thousand dollars into Adam’s lap. Adam just stared at him in disbelief. He wouldn’t pay me if he was planning on killing me, right? His brain scrambled to rationalize the dramatic turn of events.
“I instructed you to wait and to kill one man, only one! You instead went off like a lunatic and caused so much violence. I now have many problems to fix because of you! For that you get bonus Mr. Friend,” Joe grabbed onto Adam’s vest and threw a fist into his face. “Plus one more for the fire,” He punched Adam again. Shocked, Adam could do little more than nod dizzily as Joe waved his hands about in a tirade. Although Joe’s English was very good, his accent seemed to grow thicker as he got angrier.
“Never once have I met someone that goes about killing this man and that like such a crazy person! What is wrong with you?!”
Adam blubbered something that sounded like an apology but Joe wasn’t having it.
“Do you know how much damage you have caused?! Because of you, I am now at war!”
“Look Joe I’m sorry shit got out of hand –
Lukas cut him off. “First, my name is not Joe. That was a lie to protect my identity in case you were captured. I am Lukas Petrov. I am a faithful servant to my father, Mikhail Petrov, I am also the leader of our armed enforcers divisions. And I am extremely unhappy with you right now.”
Adam fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. For the first time, Adam took a second to really size the guy up – it was at that point that he noticed the pistol poking out from inside Lukas Petrov’s blazer.
Holy shit.
It wasn’t just any gangster that had picked him up. This Lukas Petrov guy was the real deal; an enforcer for the Russian mob. Adam resolved that at the first opportunity he was going to run as far away from Vegas as possible.
The bear at the wheel looked back and said something in Russian. Whatever he said seemed to calm Lukas down and he took in a deep breath through his nose. “Now…” he began, “I am very, very angry with you Adam Friend. I want you to explain exactly what happened last night and don’t you dare lie to me,”
For effect he drew the CZ-75 pistol from his holster.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Adam said as he wiped blood from his nose. “Someone else was there, he found me hiding in the room… I had to defend myself! What else could I have done?”
“You could have died like the dog you are and spared me from this mess!” Lukas spat. With a menacing glare he pointed his pistol at Adam. The bear pulled onto a highway onramp and accelerated so that any thought of escaping through the door was impossible.
“Where is my book, Adam?”
“B-book? I don’t –
Lukas reached over and slapped him. “Get yourself under control, coward! Where the hell is my book? I will not ask again!”
He pressed the muzzle of his gun against Adam’s ribs.
“Kremenski had it!” Adam panted. “I saw him with it before I escaped. I can get it for you – please!”
“Save your begging! Tell me where it is!”
“I hid it! I can get it for you, let me go and I’ll bring it to you!”
Lukas eyed Adam suspiciously for a moment. After a pause he pulled the gun away from Adam’s ribs.
“What does it look like?”
“What–
“The book, idiot! If you have really seen it then you will know what it looks like. Describe it to me.”
“It’s metal… with Russian letters painted on its cover. It’s full of papers with maps and pictures and phone numbers. Everything is in Arabic or Russian, I couldn’t read it.”
Lukas seemed to cool off a little and then flicked on the safety of his CZ-75. With a satisfied sigh he instructed his driver to pull off the highway while he holstered his weapon.
“Very well,” Lukas said. “I was planning on killing you tonight, but it appears you are the only man alive who can help return my property to me,” He leaned back in the plush leather seat and appeared to relax. “War was coming to us sooner or later I suppose; the clash was inevitable. I am prepared to fight on, as you must be.”
“War?” Adam managed to ask. “What are you talking about?”
“Your aggression has forced our hand. You killed a man loyal to the Sumatra gang. Now the door is open and we have no choice but to walk through it. I do not think Mr. Jordan will retaliate right away, but we must act quickly. You see, that book contains our most valuable secrets. It has detailed lists of the men who harvest our opium in Afghanistan, maps of the routes from the fields, and the contact information for the US Air Force officers who fly the opium to the United States. All of it is kept in one place so it can’t be copied. We also keep it offline so hackers can’t access it. We have enemies that want to steal that book so that they can destroy us… but I will not allow that to happen.”
Adam sat in stunned silence. Lukas tossed a prepaid flip-phone into Adam’s lap. Adam predicted (accurately, as it would soon turn out) that all this was going to lead to a very dark place. He wished he could turn back the clock and avoid ever jumping into business with the crazy Russkie.
“No dialing calls, you only answer. When I call tomorrow I expect you will have my book ready for me. Do not make me hunt for you again,” Lukas warned. Adam nodded in obedience.
“This is your stop. Goodbye, Mr. Friend.”
The bear at the wheel parked the Mercedes on the side of the road and yanked Adam from his seat. A cloud of exhaust was delivered as a parting gift and Ada
m stood alone in the dark street. He rubbed the part of his face where Lukas punched him. Sore, but not nearly as painful as getting beat up in the motel. Now where did the Russian Express drop me off?
Looking around, he recognized that he was on a small residential street in North Las Vegas. Mediterranean style houses sprawled in vast tracts in every direction, but the glow from the Strip was visible in the distance. Geez guys could you have at least put me back where you found me? Rude… just plain rude.
It was very late at night, or very early in the morning depending on how one looks at things. As Adam walked along the lonely street in the dark, only a single car was on the road with him.
Behind him.
Right behind him.
Oh please not again!
A white Range Rover roared past him and braked only ten feet away. The doors flew open and two black men in suits seized him in the blink of an eye. Adam tried to scream but a hand clasped over his mouth as he was manhandled into the SUV. The doors slammed shut and the vehicle sped off with him inside.
“How do you know Lukas Petrov?” a voice demanded.
“What? Who are….? I don’t… ”
“Wrong answer.”
The butt of a pistol smashed against his skull – darkness.
17
5:30am, Unknown Location
A bucket of cold water blasted Adam back into consciousness. Icy wet needles soaked through his thin clothes and stole his breath away. Adam blinked several times to adjust his blurry vision. The back of his skull throbbed in pain.
“Nap time is over! Wake up! I said wake up!”
A hand slapped the side of Adam’s face until his eyelids flickered open.
Adam instinctively tried to raise his arms and shield himself, but he couldn’t. Rough bindings kept him strapped to the little wooden chair. His arms were bound behind his back and his ankles were tied tightly to the chair’s legs. Something heavy brushed against his throat. A whimper escaped from his lips when he realized what it was.
The noose was wrapped snugly around his neck. Coarsely braided rope ran up to a pulley bolted into the concrete ceiling above. Adam’s vision returned to normal and he began to get a sense of his surroundings. Concrete surrounded him on all sides. Pallets and white boxes lined the large basement’s gray walls. In the far corner ahead of him, a forklift was parked next to a ramp that rose up beyond the ceiling to the next floor.
Three clean, stylish suits were illuminated by a single fluorescent bulb as they stood before him. One stepped closer to Adam, running his fingers along the taught line that ran up from Adam’s neck, to the pulley above, and down to the hands of his men behind him.
“Do you speak English?” the man demanded. His eyes were concealed behind aviator-style sunglasses.
Adam shook the chilly water from his face.
“Yes!” he yelped. Please God protect me, holy shit what is happening?!
“You work for Lukas Petrov?”
The voice was fast and harsh; it terrified Adam.
“No! No I –
The noose snapped tight and cut off his words. His eyes bulged from his head and spit bubbled from the corners of his ashen lips as he was hoisted higher and higher toward the ceiling. He thought for sure that he could feel the vertebra in this upper spine being stretched apart by his own body weight.
“We are gonna be here for a looonngg time if you don’t get straight with me real quick white boy! Drop him!”
The two men behind him released the rope and let Adam plummet to the floor. The impact shattered the flimsy wooden chair, leaving him helplessly bound in a pile of splinters. Adam gasped and floundered like a fish out of water.
Steps echoed in the room as his captor approached him. Small specks of light penetrated the man’s sunglasses and revealed two bruised eyes behind the lenses. His suit, which seemed so clean from a distance, now appeared heavily wrinkled with spots of blood around the collar.
“My name is Jacob. I represent the interests of Dimitri Jordan.”
Jesus no, not him!!
Jacob may as well have been a demon sent by Lucifer himself.
“This is a very dangerous time for anyone working for Lukas Petrov. That fool has asked for war and now he’s going to get it. And I can promise you this; the Petrovs won’t just be defeated. They’ll be crushed, humiliated, and then utterly obliterated by Mr. Jordan’s overwhelming power. That being said, I would like us to start over… Do you work for Lukas Petrov?”
Adam coughed several times before screeching out an answer. He feared his throat had been permanently squeezed to a smaller size.
“Yes!” he confessed.
Jacob had the answer he was looking for. Satisfied, he continued the interrogation.
“What’s your name?”
“Adam Friend, my name is Adam Friend!”
“Okay Mr. Friend, good, that’s a good man,” Jacob stood and walked away to grab something. Adam mentally prepared himself for more torture. What would it be? Knives? Tasers? Hot pliers? Adam shuddered and shut his thoughts down. When Jacob walked closer he kept whatever was in his hand concealed behind his back.
“Your boss, Lukas Petrov, is a very busy man. What does he do?”
“Opium! He sells opium!”
“How? Where does it come from?”
“It’s from Afghanistan… I don’t know how he gets it.”
“Ahh but he does get it. And he keeps all his secrets in one place, isn’t that right?”
“There’s a book.” Adam coughed.
Jacob hummed. “Alright, this is good. Now we’re having a conversation Adam. That book is of crucial interest to us. I know that the Petrovs can’t operate without it, so someone must have it. Now you’re going to tell me who that is.”
Adam shuddered. Truth be told, he was more than ready to rat out just about anyone to escape his predicament, but he wasn’t going to rat out himself. Adam wondered how many times Jacob would hang him before giving up and simply killing him. Cold sweat formed on his brow.
“I don’t know,” Adam whispered.
“I think you do,” Jacob said. “Tell me where to find it.”
Adam struggled for an answer, Jacob grew irritated. “Don’t you lie to me Adam, I don’t like being lied to,” he warned.
“Uh I … I don’t…”
Jacob signaled his men. Adam panicked “No wait! Wait –
The noose snapped tight and yanked him up to the ceiling with a violent jerk.
“Ohh you need a minute to think about it?” Jacob said from below his dangling victim. “That’s okay, Adam, you go ahead and take a minute to think. I’ll wait for you right down here.”
He’s killing me! My God he’s killing me!!
The room seemed to fade to black, then pulse with dim light, and then fade again. Jacob’s gaze didn’t break. He wasn’t going to let his victim die, but was going to get pretty damn close. He let Adam dangle with his feet kicking in the air. Mere seconds separated him from life and death. He was right on the brink, where he would be most vulnerable. Jacob gestured for his men to release the rope.
Adam’s body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. A splinter from the broken chair pierced his thigh on impact. He squirmed in pain but couldn’t make a sound. Several minutes of silent suffering passed.
Jacob paid close attention to Adam’s condition.
“I think you’re ready to talk. Tell me where the book is. Now.”
Adam was in no position to resist, but he was smart enough to deflect. He couldn’t care less about that stupid metal binder. His only concern was figuring out how to deal with two dangerous gangsters demanding the same thing from him at the same time.
Jacob, however, currently had Adam’s neck in a noose, making him priority one.
“I can find it,” Adam croaked. “Please, let me go. I can find it.”
Jacob grinned like a crocodile and crouched by Adam’s head. He patted Adam’s shoulder approvingly. “Well done Adam. I think we’re
gonna get along just fine after all.”
He snapped his fingers and waved one of his men over. “I have some things for you.”
Adam kept quiet; he had never experienced helplessness or fear on this awful scale before.
A flip-phone was laid in front of Adam’s eyes. It looked almost identical to the one Petrov had given him earlier. “This phone is not for social calls, you only pick it up when it rings, and you will pick it up whenever it rings. I don’t care if you’re in a shootout with the cops or balls deep into the best sex of your short life. If that phone rings, you pick it up, understood?”
Adam nodded.
“Good. Now, on to more pleasant business,” Jacob reached into his coat pocket and produced two stacks of one hundred dollar bills. Each had $10,000 written across their bands. “This is twenty thousand dollars of real cash Adam. I’m giving you half now. You’ll get the other half, and your life, when you finish the job.”
Jacob stood to walk away, Adam noticed a slight limp in his gait. What happened to that guy?
“You have until tomorrow night to make good on what you just told me you can do. If you deliver, you get all the money. If you fail me or go crying to Lukas Petrov for help, then we will come back down here and play the piñata game for a few hours.”
One of the guards brandished a plank of wood and slapped it against his palm with an evil-looking smile. It made Adam’s skin crawl. It was clear how Dimitri Jordan’s empire had gained such a ruthless reputation. Jacob placed one of the stacks of cash back into his coat and turned to face his men. “Pack up his things, put him outside, then cut him loose,” Jacob clapped twice and walked toward the ramp that led outside the room.
“We will speak again soon, Adam Friend, very soon!”
The guards stuffed the money, the phone and Adam’s personal belongings into a black duffle bag and then forced Adam to his feet. With his ankles still tied they dragged him across the room and up the ramp toward a rolling metal door.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Heavy aluminum slats slapped against iron chains in rapid succession. The ear-splitting sound was almost as jarring for Adam’s frayed nerves as the bright beam of sunlight that poured into the open doorway. One mighty shove sent Adam to the ground with a thud.