by Ryan Stygar
The fist on the door didn’t stop. What the hell is wrong with these guys? Vince pulled a can of air freshener and sprayed lavender scent all around his apartment to mask the smell of weed. On his way to the door he kicked a glass bong under his couch before twisting his dead bolt and cracking open his door.
“Umm… hi officers,” he started sheepishly; he knew he looked guilty as sin. “Is uh… is everything ok?”
The cop nearest to him placed a hand on the door and steadily pushed it open to get a better view of the apartment. He had a Latino type of look to him with buzz-cut black hair. Vince tried not to stare at the scar on the officer’s face.
“Been having a nice evening?” the policeman asked.
Vince’s nervousness made him stumble over his words.
“Uh.. yeah. Just kinda stayin’ in. Having a quiet night,” he rubbed the back of his neck uneasily as he read the nametag on the cop’s uniform. “Is there something I can do for you mister … uh Mister Ramirez?”
“Sergeant Ramirez,” the officer corrected him. “This is my partner Officer Li. We’re here because we believe you have some information regarding a person of interest,”
“Person of… interest?”
“Adam Friend,” Ramirez said bluntly. Vince gasped a little in surprise. “Is he ok? What happened!?”
“Your friend is fine,” Ramirez said. “Can you tell me where he was on Tuesday night this week?”
Vince blinked a few times. “Actually… I really don’t know him very well,”
Ramirez leaned closer. “Two men were murdered on Tuesday night. If you refuse to be honest with me then you could be charged with obstructing a murder investigation. Do you really want to go down that road?”
Vince was in shock. He had no idea what was going on and he truly did not know what Adam was doing on Tuesday night. Still, he knew better than to just throw his pal under the bus. “I would love to help… I uh, I just really don’t know the guy is all I’m saying,”
Officer Brett Li flared his nostrils and sniffed the air. “Do you smell marijuana, Sergeant?”
“I think I do, Brett,” Ramirez said with a grin. “Well I guess that means we won’t be needing a warrant,” He pushed Vince aside and strode into the apartment. Li followed, locking the door behind them.
“Hey wait a minute!” Vince protested. “You can’t do this, I have rights!”
Ramirez seized Vince’s muscular arm and pushed him down onto the couch. “Calm down and take a seat, Johnny Bravo,”
Li couldn’t help but laugh. “Nice one,”
Ramirez cracked a rare grin. “You liked that, huh?”
He looked back at Vince and his grin vanished. “Listen. I know you know more about Adam Friend than you’re letting on. I see it all over your face. Now you would be really smart if you would just tell us what you know, got it?”
“Don’t lie,” Li added.
“Oh yeah,” Ramirez said, tapping the bright yellow Taser on his belt. “Don’t lie,”
29
Red Star Tower, 8:00pm
T he doctor kept a steady eye on his patient while he hung an IV bag over his head. Tucked neatly beneath fresh white sheets, Lukas Petrov snored peacefully, totally sedated.
After several strenuous hours of work, Dr. Kraineva finally plopped down on a stool by Lukas’s bed for a well-earned cup of coffee. Kraineva then plucked the round spectacles from his face and massaged the bridge of his stubby nose. He leaned over and deposited his spectacles next to the tray of bloodied surgical instruments by the bed. He had the look of an old, tired toad as he rested. At the wet bar on the other side of the make-shift operating room, Kraineva’s assistant was rinsing off scalpels and surgical pliers.
Mikhail Petrov’s voice inquired from the doorway, “Are those the little bastards that hit my son?”
Soaking in a saline jar on the tray by the bed, the remains of two 9mm bullets sat as a testament to Dr. Kraineva’s expertise.
Kraineva grinned, obviously proud of his work. “Those are full metal jacket rounds. Unlike hollow-point rounds, they do not expand on impact, so the cavity created upon entry into the body is significantly smaller. I had to be cautious not to disturb the surrounding tissue as I extracted them, but it looks like Lukas’s injuries are far less serious than we initially feared,”
“How long until he is on his feet?” Mikhail asked. He walked closer to the bed and put a tender hand on his son’s arm.
Kraineva held up a pair of vials. “These are excellent antibiotics,” he explained. “Lukas was lucky that no vital organs were ruptured. As long as he does not have an infection, he will be walking again within a couple of days,”
“He has always been tough,” Mikhail smiled and patted his sleeping son’s palm. “You’ve done well, Dr. Kraineva, go and get some rest. I will stay with him a while,”
“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on him,” Kraineva said. With a hrrmpfff he rocked himself forward and stood from his little stool.
“Ivan” Kraineva called to his assistant on his way out. “Be sure all the surgical tools are thoroughly cleaned before you leave. I will inspect them in the morning,”
“Dah” Ivan replied in his native Russian.
The office space, normally used by the Petrovs for entertaining high net-worth clients, had enough space for the bed at its center with plenty of room for the wet-bar on one side and a spacious, granite-floored restroom on the other. With wood-paneled walls, a high-end stereo system, and plenty of soft lighting, it was the perfect place for Lukas to heal. It was also a fortress by modern standards. Centrally located on the top floor of Red Star tower, the office was surrounded by four solid walls and a honeycomb of executive suites on all sides. Mikhail paced around the room for a while as Ivan cleaned Dr. Kraineva’s tools.
At the wet-bar he found a well-aged bottle of bourbon and a jar of cherries which he promptly used to prepare a simple cocktail. Mikhail strolled around and sipped for some time, admiring the oil paintings on the walls and humming along with the string symphony playing quietly over the room’s sound system.
Lukas stirred in his bed after an hour. Mikhail was sitting by the bed and reading one of his old history books.
“What are you reading?” Lukas’s groggy voice asked. Mikhail smiled and held up the cover to reveal a history book.
“It’s about Napoleon’s failed invasion of Russia,” Mikhail said. “Napoleon may have captured Moscow, but his victory was a hollow one. We Russians are not to be underestimated,”
“Your choice of reading material is certainly relevant,” Lukas said. “I just hope history can repeat itself,”
Mikhail laid the book down and touched Lukas’s hand. “How are you my boy?”
Lukas winced a little when he shifted up in his bed. He pulled down the white blankets to expose the neatly dressed bandages on his abdomen and made an ‘okay’ symbol with his hand. “It’s not so bad now that the bullets are out. Dr. Kraineva does good work,”
“He says you should be on your feet in a few days,”
“Sooner than that I think,” Lukas grinned. “Hand me that glass of water, please.”
Mikhail picked up the glass of water waiting on Lukas’s nightstand and handed it to him. In four deep gulps Lukas emptied the entire glass.
“Ahhhh,” he sighed. “I’ll rest no more than one day. We have important work to do.”
Mikhail darkened a little. “Your optimism is inspiring, but the damage to our forces… I fear it was catastrophic. There are only a few trustworthy men left to help us,”
Lukas cursed under his breath. “Who is still alive?” he asked.
“Well… there is you and me of course,” Mikhail began with a frown. “And four others; Doctor Kraineva, Ivan, Leonid and your sister Viktoriya,”
“That is all?” Lukas asked, his lip quivering.
Mikhail nodded solemnly.
“Damn those bastards!” Lukas fell into a fit of coughing.
“Calm yoursel
f boy!” Mikhail implored. “You must not get worked up, your health!”
“So many of our friends… gone!” Lukas’s fists balled the edges of his sheets into tight clumps.
“Breathe,” Mikhail whispered. “Control your rage. Think,”
Lukas shook his head sorrowfully. “We cannot allow another engagement or we are finished. And we can’t simply go home or else all of our work has been for nothing!”
“Our debt with Sheriff Wyatt still stands,” Mikhail assured him. “I am sure he will work with us if it means he can still be paid. If we can find a way to strike Dimitri Jordan without endangering our remaining men, we can still win,”
“We are so weak,” Lukas steamed. “I am a cripple, Dr. Kraineva is an old man, Viktoriya is a woman, and you are a drunk,”
Mikhail absorbed the pessimism with patience, “Your sister is smart, and so are you. Ivan and Leonid are strong fighters, and Dr. Kraineva can still be dangerous with a gun in his hand,” Mikhail reached out and grasped his son’s hand. “And I am handsome,” he added with a crooked smile. “We have assets, let us make a strategy and use them.”
Lukas sniffled a little. It wasn’t much to work with, especially against Dimitri Jordan’s seemingly infinite resources, but it was all he had. Mikhail sipped his cocktail while Lukas concocted a strategy.
After some time, Lukas muttered, “Adam Friend.”
Mikhail raised an eyebrow, “Your assassin?”
“Yes… he’s alive, I know it. Before I passed out from the pain I heard him speaking to Dimitri Jordan’s men. They spared him. I do not know where he is but I know the Sumatra gang took him alive. If they are still holding him then we can use his position to attack from within,” Lukas laid back in his bed and thought a little more. “All we need is some leverage. If Dimitri Jordan has not killed him by now then he has at least ensured loyalty by some means… we need something to use against Adam,”
Mikhail offered a solution. “Viktoriya is very beautiful…” he began. “With her intelligence she can easily manipulate him,”
“Do you think Viktoriya can act as his handler?”
“I would not underestimate your little sister. She is as clever as your mother was, but twice as fierce.”
“Adam cannot be trusted. We will need to proceed as if I am dead so that he doesn’t alert anyone at the Sumatra that I am still a threat.”
“Agreed,” Mikhail said. “Jordan won’t unleash the full power of his empire if he thinks you’re dead.”
“We will need to take extra care to protect you and Viktoriya,” Lukas cautioned.
“Of course.”
“Next we must find some form of leverage to keep Adam under our control,” Lukas thought. “Viktoriya will need to get to know him and figure out something we can use; something he has that he will do anything to protect,”
“Family?” his father asked.
“Ideally,” Lukas answered. “When I first met him, he mentioned something about a child… I believe he has a daughter,”
“A father will do anything to protect his flesh and blood,” Mikhail said with a nod.
“Have Viktoriya contact him tonight. Instruct her to find a way to use Adam’s family against him,”
Mikhail nodded. “Adam Friend, under duress and well within Viktoriya’s charm, will strike the Sumatra from within… but where?”
“We need to go straight for the heart,” Lukas said. “We are too weak to waste time with anything but a killer strike. When Jordan is dead his Lieutenants will panic. Their reaction will be violent and hasty,”
Mikhail followed the logic. “And as the violence spills into the streets, Sheriff Wyatt will have no choice but to respond. Then he will finish Dimitri Jordan for us…”
Lukas said, “By using Adam Friend and the police, we can fight Dimitri Jordan by proxy. Our small numbers will no longer be a factor. ”
Mikhail stroked the crease in his double chin. “Very smart… you make me proud, son,”
“There will be time to be proud when the job is done,” Lukas cautioned. “For now, be vigilant. We have work to do!”
30
A dam was beyond relief when Ty finally released him. The day that began with getting shot at on the Las Vegas Strip, to being shot at in the desert, to being threatened with death at the top of the Sumatra, was finally over. Ty was a much kinder man than Jacob, but he made it clear that he was no less dangerous.
When Ty dropped Adam off he said, “I expect to hear about Mikhail’s whereabouts soon. If we don’t hear from you then Mr. Jordan will assume you’ve betrayed us. If that happens then I will have no choice but to skin you alive while he watches.
“Jesus,” Adam gasped.
Ty shrugged. “It gives me no pleasure,”
“Thanks, that really helps,” Adam said flatly. Ty laughed and told him to cheer up.
“We will be in touch soon,” Ty said before driving off.
It was still early afternoon when Adam walked to his S10. Despite everything that had happened, he couldn’t help the little bounce in his step. Ty had come through on Jacob’s promise to give him an additional ten grand for delivering the Russian opium binder. That plus the money Lukas tossed in his bag earlier that morning meant that Adam was carrying thirty thousand dollars on his shoulder. Combined with the massive pile of cash stashed away in his truck, Adam was officially a millionaire. He had survived the longest day of his life and now he was rich. The threat from Ty was clear, but with that kind of money Adam was certain he could make a clean get away.
His mind was so busy planning how he was going to go about escaping the city, he didn’t notice anything wrong with his truck at first. But when he was about fifty feet away, the afternoon sun glinted off a pile of broken glass beneath the passenger side door. Adam took a minute to register what the twinkling glass on the pavement meant, then broke into a sprint when he saw his window was gone and the door was hanging ajar.
“No!” he yelled. “No not now, nooo!”
Gone. All of it. Every dollar he had stashed in his truck was stolen.
Adam fell to his knees and sputtered a monologue of profanities as all his grand plans evaporated at once. His truck was almost completely empty. All that was left was his blanket, a phone charger, and a few cans of soup. Some lucky bum smashed his window and got away with the heist of his life; Adam got cleaned out.
He lost it. First he cried over the lost money, then he cursed at a God he hardly believed in for giving him such a gift only to cruelly rip it away, finally he just wanted to kill whoever it was that ripped him off.
It took a while before Adam got himself under control. He had more than just his own life to look after; Lily needed him to find a way to take care of her. The cash in his bag wasn’t enough to cover all his debt to St. Judith’s, but he hoped it would help prevent Lily from being turned over to CPS while he came up with another plan.
He taped his blanket over the broken passenger window and hurried to St. Judith’s.
Poor old Nancy and the Billing Manager were stunned stupid when Adam laid out thirty thousand dollars of cash on their desk.
“This is everything I have,” Adam said as the Billing Manager counted up the amount to credit Adam’s account. Nancy stared at him with her jaw wide open. “I know I still owe money, but please tell me this helps; don’t let the state take Lily from me,”
“Adam…” Nancy stuttered. “Where on Earth did you get all this?”
“It doesn’t matter. I love my daughter and I’m not letting anyone take her from me. Can this buy me some time?”
“I mean, well, yes I’m sure we can figure something out. Honey, I know how hard you’re fighting for her, but there’s still going to be a balance,”
“That’s fine, I’ll get more,” Adam said firmly.
When the Billing Manager went back to her office with the cash, Nancy leaned over her desk. She whispered, “Please tell me you came by all this legally,”
“Blackjack,” Adam
said quietly. “Let’s just say I got lucky okay?”
Nancy was more than a little concerned, but her heart wouldn’t allow her to blow the whistle on a father trying to keep custody of his child. She nodded and agreed that it all looked like Blackjack money to her.
“Can I go see her?” Adam asked. Nancy directed him to the central gardens where the children were playing.
“Daddy!” Lily yelled and hurried over to his arms. He hugged her tighter than ever before. All the men he’d killed, all the suffering he’d endured, he did it because he loved her more than anything. It would have been so much easier to just let Child Protective Services take her, but he would have rather died.
After playing with Lily for an hour, Adam managed to pull himself away. On his way out, the Billing Manager presented him with a new balance owed of just over twenty thousand dollars. It was still a lot, but with over half the debt wiped out, he finally felt like he had a chance. His next task was to find a way to settle the rest of his tab with St. Judith’s and then get out of Vegas once and for all.
That evening he parked his truck in a lot that was in a nicer part of town. Adam turned up some classic rock on his stereo while he heated up a can of soup on the engine for an early dinner. Thankful that the thieves who broke into his truck didn’t bother with his outdated phone charger, Adam plugged in his personal phone, which had been dead all day. Within seconds the thing started dinging and chiming as it recorded text messages and voicemails.
When the battery was full he flipped open his phone to check his text messages. All of them were from Vince.
“Hey what’s up? U feeling better?”
“God Keith is a dick. Docking me pay for wrinkled pants,”
“U there bud?”
They went on like that for a while. His voicemail box had a few messages. The first two were collection calls from St. Judith’s, and Adam just rolled his eyes and deleted them.
When he played the third message, his stomach tightened into a knot.