Rasputin's Prodigy

by Michael Weinberger

  I ducked back around, “Chris, what the hell happened here.” The seriousness in my voice was sufficient to bring a halt to the expected ball-busting I was sure to receive about being put under another woman's Thrall.

  “Our friend from the other night showed up and set Dimitri off.”

  “Which friend?”

  “The homeless guy who offed Dimitri's goons, including your buddy Mikhail.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah man, total weirdness too. Used some kind of voodoo on Dimitri's people and then started carving them up with a knife so wicked looking it should be in Alpha's collection.”

  I shook my head as the words hit me. Who the hell was this guy?

  Chris kept talking, “I saw Dimitri mouth some words, but couldn't make out what they were. Did you catch any of it while you were playing grab ass with the bad guys?”

  I let out a sigh... there was the end of my reprieve. “So considerate of you to be so sensitive to my compromised condition that you would allow me some space, yet it only lasted a whole sixty seconds.”

  “Serves you right Mr. Grabby-hands.”

  I ignored Chris’ immaturity, “Am I clear to move?”

  “That's your new name, you know. Mr. Grabby-hands.”

  I really tried to ignore Chris’ immaturity, “Chris?”

  To my relief Chris got back to business, “Well, 'clear' is a relative term. Dimitri is still there yelling orders, and a couple of his guards are pinning down our newest friend somewhere across the street. The idiots finally figured out not to run at him, and instead are shooting at him from a distance.”

  “Any sign of Lei?”

  “No.”

  I thought for a moment and then asked, “So everyone's attention is on the man across the street.”

  “Yep, they...” Chris went silent before complaining, “Wait! Uh, wait... Wait-a-damn-minute. What are you thinking? It may be chaos, but everyone has their hair up and guns out. One glance in your direction and your Swiss-cheese.”

  “How much you want to bet he had his car reinforced?”

  “Dimitri? Bullet-proof?” Chris said incredulously, then asked, “So what?”

  “All I have to do is get him in the car and drive off.”

  “Oooooooooh, is that all?” Chris' sarcasm was so thick it was positively cloying.

  “You don't like my plan?”

  “That's not a plan.”

  I laughed, “Besides, I have you to watch my back.”

  Chris didn't answer.

  “How many are still out there?” I asked him.

  Chris counted, “Eight, plus Dimitri.”

  I sighed, “All right, cover me!”

  I slid around the corner of the alley and began shifting from cover to cover, as I closed the distance between Dimitri and myself. Shots were being fired regularly from various handguns, as Dimitri's people kept ‘Mr. Homeless’ pinned down and I hoped the noise would prevent anyone from hearing me. I made it to within thirty feet of Dimitri, who was standing behind his car shouting orders, positioned with the rear passenger door open so that, presumably, he could jump inside if things continued to worsen. His security force had regrouped itself and they were advancing on their supposed victim, as I quietly watched, waiting for my opportunity. I decided to wait until the shooting started again, and then, under the covering sounds of the gunshots, I would spring forward and tackle Dimitri, driving him headfirst into the backseat of his own car so that I could disappear with him quickly before anyone realized what had happened. Hopefully my surprise attack would leave him vulnerable just long enough for me to knock him out and get the door closed behind me. After that I wouldn't have to worry about the security forces getting to me as I would be inside the locked and armored vehicle. I could just crawl into the front seat and drive off. Of course, that presumed the keys were in the ignition, otherwise I was going to have to try to hotwire a Rolls Royce. It wouldn't be my first hotwire, but frankly I didn't even know if it was possible to hotwire a Rolls Royce. If it all went to hell there was Chris, my backup, who would be picking off the remaining security people as they tried for a potential rescue and I made good my retreat, in theory anyway.

  As each of the remaining security team inched their way toward their target and away from me, with their guns at the ready. I was balanced on the balls of my feet and ready to spring at the first shot, like a sprinter waiting for the starting gun. Then a sound to the side broke my focus, as the doors to the club opened.

  I heard the terror in Chris' voice whisper into my ear, “Oh my God,” as more men poured out of the club, all of them carrying AK-47 assault rifles. The last man to exit had to duck his head in order to fit under the door’s frame, and he was glaring menacingly across the street at the source of the conflict.

  I was completely out in the open with no cover, nowhere to run and so I did the worst thing possible and just froze in place. Nicholas pointed his finger and opened his mouth to give his men orders when he suddenly froze, too. Slowly his eyes moved to the side, and his head followed them, ending up looking in my direction. Our eyes met and for a few microseconds neither of us moved as we just took in the sight of each other. Suddenly rage contorted Nicholas' face and his eyes went wild with fury as he began to twist his body towards me. I came out of my stupor and moved faster as I raised my Glock, firing repeatedly at Nicholas, and the nightclub's doorway in general, while bolting across the street. Surprisingly the giant was able to alter his movements with such quickness that he managed to duck, and was back inside the club for cover. Some of his men weren't so lucky.

  The security people must have taken my shots as a signal to open fire on our homeless friend, but it was Dimitri who realized something was wrong, turned to see me shooting back at the entrance to his club, and without any hesitation jumped into his vehicle and shut the door behind him, while my plan officially went to hell. I turned my attention to the security people who had been working their way toward our homeless buddy. As they realized that there was someone shooting at their backs, they scattered, diving for whatever cover they could find, and I ran past them toward the spot where Mr. Homeless had taken cover. Swinging my Glock from one side to the side, I managed to shoot down two of the retreating security people, before the my ammo clip was empty. As I released the empty clip I saw Mr. Homeless watching me as I made my way toward him. Turned out he was hiding behind a parked car, and realizing what I was about to do, he ducked to the side, as I made with a ’Dukes of Hazard’ slide over the hood of the sedan, dropping into place next to him behind the car.

  No sooner had I landed than I felt something roughly press across the front of my throat, and I realized the man had placed the edge of an enormous hunting knife at my throat. I froze as I felt the razor-sharp edge of the blade grip at the flesh over my throat and instinctively I knew that with the slightest flick of the wrist that blade could kill me.

  I raised my empty Glock up, “Do we really have time for this?”

  I had gambled that he, having seen me shooting down Dimitri's people, would realize that we were on the same side. After a moment, he glowered at me and lowered the blade. I nodded and finished popping a new clip into the Glock.

  “So?” the man asked in a heavy Slavic accent, “I suppose you have plan?”

  Chris' voice echoed in my ear, “Who was that?”

  I answered, “Our homeless friend asked if I had a plan.”

  “Oh, well I'm guessing the answer is 'yes,' but I'm also equally sure that it's a terrible one.”

  I raised my eyebrows at the man and opened the front passenger door of the sedan. Climbing into the front seat I dropped under the steering wheel and ripped the wires from their housings. “Going to need a few uninterrupted moments please,” I said into the earpiece loud enough for both the man next to me and Chris to hear as I began the hotwiring process. The car was an old Lincoln Continental that had been refurbished recently. I felt a pang of sadness for the owner, who would eventually find the veh
icle riddled with bullets. I hoped there wouldn't also be two bodies bleeding out next to, or inside of, the car as well, as I finished stripping the wires with my teeth.

  “Pass me your gun,” the man said and held his hand out expectedly, as I turned away from my work to look at him in stunned surprise.

  He arched one eyebrow and used my own words against me, “Do we really have time for this?”

  I clenched my teeth and passed him my Glock. The man studied it for a half a second, rose and fired three shots before ducking back down. Return fire hit the sedan in a volley, some penetrating through the door over the top of me, as I worked on getting the car started. A felt a hot shock in my fingertips as the electrical connection was made, and the sedan coughed to life. The man smiled at me, then rose to fire again and I stuck my head up in time to see Nicholas and the remaining men raise their AK-47's. My eyes widened in panic knowing there was no way to avoid the hail of bullets that would penetrate the car like tissue paper.

  A single shot rang out from a distance and I could hear the man who it hit scream in agony, as someone else yelled, “Chan'nep!”

  The homeless man ducked behind the vehicle, “Is the sniper yours?”

  “Yep, get in!”

  The man flung himself though the door and into the backseat, as I straightened in the driver’s seat, put the car into drive, and slammed the gas pedal to the floor with the rear wheels doing a slight chirp before catching the road, and suddenly we were racing forward. I heard the sound of automatic fire and the rear windows exploded before it suddenly stopped. I guessed Chris had fired again and shot the gunman.

  I rounded one corner then accelerated down one street before turning again at the next. Once I had gained some distance I checked the rear view mirror to see that we weren't being pursued, or at least not yet, and I yelled into Chris’ earpiece, “Stay put, I'm going to circle around and get you!”

  Chris answered, “Don't bother, they're still not sure where I am and I think I can clear out of here without being detected. Where do you want to meet up?”

  I considered that for a moment and realized I was going to have to trust that Chris could handle himself.

  “All right, we can meet at the...” I heard the door of the car open before I could finish talking, and my head swung around to see the homeless man jump from the car, roll to the sidewalk and run down an alley. I was about to hit the brakes when a pair of headlights suddenly appeared from around the corner behind me and accelerated toward the car.

  I cursed, “Chris, I have a tail. I'm going to need to lose him first.”

  I only received static on the other end as Chris didn't answer.

  I prayed that Chris could still hear me as I said, “We'll meet up at the Absinthe store.”

  It was the only, relatively friendly place I could think of, as I floored the gas pedal and felt the car blast forward.

  A loud rattle sounded from the engine of the Lincoln as I pressed it for more speed. I suppose it was unreasonable of me to believe that the engine could have gone completely unscathed from the gunfire, but I had hoped it had enough left in it to get me away from whoever was pursuing me. I had barely finished the thought when a loud “PANG!” sounded, and the car lost all power as if someone had flicked an “off” switch.

  I looked back, saw the headlights coming up fast and reached for my Glock, only to remember that I had given it to Mr. Homeless mere moments ago. With no other options I got out of the car and ran in the hope to find another shadowy alley to hide in before the car overtook me. The driver of the other vehicle had apparently spotted me as I heard the engine revving faster and louder as the oncoming car closed the distance between us.

  Suddenly, gunshots from a familiar sounding weapon reverberated in the dark and the oncoming car swayed awkwardly to one side and then quickly tried to correct itself. If Dimitri Lagos had armored his personal vehicle, then he had apparently neglected doing the same for his subordinate’s vehicles. I couldn't see what damage had been done by the shots, but heard tires skid and felt the concussion of the impact as the car careened off of a building, before rolling to a stop less than ten feet from me. I had stopped running when I heard the initial skid of the tires and I now turned to peer at the damage. Through the cracked windshield I could see that the driver was either unconscious or dead, as he lay in a bloody heap stretched over the steering wheel. Passenger doors creaked open and three men fumbled their way out of the wrecked vehicle as they tried to collect their wits and their bearings by quickly surveying the area. Realizing they were all still carrying weapons I backed away from them and was about to take off, when more gunfire erupted. Each of the three men twisted convulsively before falling to the ground and I saw my homeless friend walking casually toward the downed men as he pulled the clip from my Glock and checked to see how many rounds he had left before pushing it back in place. Walking nonchalantly past the bodies, the man strode up to me and held the weapon out to me, butt-first.

  “A fine weapon,” he said approvingly, “you have two rounds still in the clip.”

  I carefully accepted my gun and holstered it, saying “Thank you.”

  The man nodded to me, and I asked him, “So, who are you exactly?”

  The man smiled, “That is a long story, and I think we had better get off this street before more men come looking for us.”

  It was my turn to nod, “Can you at least let me know your name?”

  The man gave me a sideways look, but said, “Alexei.”

  “Alexei?” I asked, “That's it? Just, Alexei?”

  The man's smiled widened even more, “For now, it is enough.”

  I rolled my eyes, “Fine then, Alexei. My name's Steve.”

  Alexei nodded at me, “Very well Steve, you have safe place for us to go?”

  I nodded. I wasn't sure how the liquor store owner was going to react with my bringing a stranger to his shop, but what other choice did I have?

  “Safe enough anyway. C'mon, it's a bit of a hike from here.”

  It took almost thirty minutes to get to the street where the liquor store was located, although it might have taken less time if I hadn't gotten us lost twice along the way. When the store was in sight Alexei, who had been following me pleasantly the entire time, even when I had clearly gotten us lost, suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked at the store. Realizing he wasn't on my heels anymore I stopped as well and looked back.

  “What's wrong?”

  “You are going there?” He pointed to the Absinthe store that was my destination.

  I looked to the store and then back at Alexei, “Yes, why?”

  Alexei's eyes widened jovially and a slight smile spread across his lips. He mumbled something under his breath and shook his head, in an ironic kind of way, before saying, “I should have asked where we were going.”

  Concerned I asked, “Is there a problem?”

  Alexei chuckled, “Not at all, but I could have gotten us here faster.”

  I watched Alexei start to happily jog toward the store, and so I followed him, not understanding if his sudden jubilation was a result of knowing the owners or just having a preference for Absinthe. Alexei walked to the door, but stood to one side and gestured for me to ring the bell while wearing a foxlike, ’Cat-that-ate-the-Canary’ grin on his face.

  I frowned at him, but pressed one finger down on the ringer. After a moment of silence I heard Igor's voice over the speaker explode out at me in a language I couldn't understand, but felt sure that I and my entire lineage was being well cursed out.

  Alexei covered his mouth with one hand in the apparent attempt to stifle a laugh as the verbal onslaught continued.

  “Um, Igor?” I said as the man was forced to pause in order to take a breath, “mind if we come in?”

  The response I received was louder and more enthusiastic cursing, this time the tirade was peppered with English swear words so I was able to catch a few insults involving my mother.

  At the next pause Alexei call
ed out, “Igor! Ycnokon'te cebr, moero apyra.” (Calm yourself, my friend).

  The sound of Igor's shouting suddenly stopped, and we stood in silence outside the shop. When Igor responded his voice was authoritative, but had a certain cautiousness about it as he asked, “Who is with you American?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Alexei beat me to it, “Bbi ctonb bbinvtbi choba, yto bbi he npv hatete mov ronoc?” (Are you so drunk again that you don't recognize my voice?).

  Silence.

  This pause was much longer than before, but what ended it was the sound of locks turning and the door being cracked open as Igor peered out at me with one eye. The eye frowned deeply at me until Alexei shifted positions and came into view. The eye went wide and the door was flung open to reveal Igor standing, slack armed and gaping at Alexei. The semi-automatic shotgun he had been holding slipped from his hand, and he awkwardly took a step forward.

  “You?” Igor said hesitantly as tears welled into his eyes. Alexei raised his hands and the two men stepped into an embrace that was evidently long overdue.

  I watched them, wondering how the one contact I had in this entire country, much less this region of the world, could possibly have a common connection to this stranger, with whom we shared a common enemy.

  Chapter 21

  The two men let go of each other and stepped back smiling just as Chris came bolting around a corner, still a block away and at a full run. He had apparently ditched his weapons in favor of speed, and as soon as he saw us he began screaming and waving his arms in what I interpreted to be a “get inside” motion, but he was too far away for us to be able to hear what he was saying.

  Sensing the obvious danger I lifted my Glock, with its two remaining rounds, as Alexei picked up Igor's shotgun from where the man had dropped it.