by Jack July
Isadora ushered Elle into the kitchen where the smells caused a Pavlovian reaction. “This smells wonderful.”
“Yes,” Isadora said with a nod, “Yes, it does.” Isadora pointed to one of the chefs who picked up a couple of crackers, took a small fork, put a chunk of some of the best smoked Salmon in the world on each one and handed the sample to the ladies.
“Oh, this is to die for,” said Elle. “What else?”
They remained inside the kitchen getting samples and asking about spice combinations for flavors. Elle seemed genuinely excited because she was making mental notes on the food. They worked their way to the rear of the kitchen where two large double doors emptied out on the same dock as the hallways. Elle pretended to mistakenly walk out onto the docks where she was met by a more impolite security. Isadora barked the equivalent of, “Stand Down!” in Russian. They turned away but not before Elle caught a view of a bottle of vodka being passed. It was then she knew exactly what she was going to do.
Patience was something that had been drilled into her by the more experienced operatives she trained with. She took her time and enjoyed the evening. After dinner came the presentation of a large check to the Moscow Children’s Hospital. A band began to play and couples danced.
Elle first danced with Nikola, then Pavel. She watched as more and more alcohol was consumed. People became less dignified, security was getting loose, and then it was time. “Isadora, I’m going to powder my nose, would you like to join me?”
“Of course, darling.”
Isadora didn’t drink, but that didn’t matter. She was no match for the size, strength and skill of Fenian.
They walked into the restroom, first through a small sitting area, then through another door where there were sinks and facilities. Elle did a quick check and saw another woman standing at the sink with her head down, vacuuming two huge lines of coke. She raised her head and Isadora commented, “You may want to wipe that off your nose.”
The woman wet her hand, snorted some water drops, wiped her nose and walked toward the door. Elle politely opened it for the little cokehead, then stuck a small wooden wedge in the door jam and forced it shut. It wouldn’t keep the door from opening, but it would give her time to react if someone were to try and enter. Elle went into one of the stalls, pulled the Berretta from the holster and stuck it in her clutch, just in case. She opened the stall door, walked out and saw Isadora with a compact touching up her makeup in the mirror. Elle set the clutch on the sink, washed her hands, dried them, then pulled the brooch from her dress. She gave the three-inch sticks that made up the trellis a little twist and began to pull as twenty inches of 24 gauge braided stainless steel wire extended between her hands.
She moved a little closer to Isadora and said in flawless Russian, “I understand you kill children. Does the name Paige Bennett mean anything to you?”
Isadora froze. She caught the look of Fenian, the darkness and flashing eyes, and knew she was in trouble. Before Isadora could move Elle slid behind her and wrapped the wire around her throat. Elle used her weight to push Isadora hard against the sink, taking away any balance or leverage. Elle nearly had her chin on the top of Isadora’s head as they made eye contact in the mirror. Elle smiled and whispered, “Paige was repeatedly raped and strangled to death,” as she continued to slowly pull the wire tighter and tighter. Isadora’s hands clawed at the wire but it was already sunk into the flesh. “How does that feel Isadora? What’s it like to know you are going to die?”
Isadora’s eyes were bulging as her mouth fell open; the wire was through the flesh and began to cut into the muscle and tendons. Elle scowled at her one last time and said, “Enjoy Hell.” Then she loosened it a bit and made the final pull. Her strength and the boost from the adrenalin nearly decapitated Isadora, stopped only by vertebra C4. Elle quickly unwrapped the wire and shoved her forward. Her body came to rest draped across the sink. The blood sprayed as Elle stepped back, allowed the wire to retract into the rose at the center of the trellis, snapped it back together, rinsed it off and put it back on. Isadora’s body slid back and flopped to the floor. Her head striking the marble made the sound of a cantaloupe dropping to the tile in a grocery store. Blood was still pouring from the wound. Then the sound of someone banging against the door got her attention. Elle felt everything slowing down. Soon chaos would reign but it wouldn’t matter to her. She would be long gone.
She checked the mirror one last time and saw were spatters of blood on her dress and her face. And that’s why we wear red, she thought giving herself a little grin in the mirror. While dabbing it off with a paper towel, the door was bumped yet again. She walked around the corner and opened the door with a jerk. She saw three women waiting. Perfect, she thought. Using quick deliberate steps she made her way to the hall.
She positioned herself in the hallway next to the swinging kitchen doors and waited for the screams. When she heard the blood curdling screams emerge from the bathroom, a security guard responded. As he jogged past, she shot him in the back of the head and he fell forward. The gunshot brought more security running so she screamed in Russian, “He’s got a gun, a gun,” and pointed down the hall. She backed through the kitchen doors, and made her way to the back of the kitchen close to the loading dock doors. They burst open as a security team rushed in. Elle, feigning panic, again shouted at the top of her lungs in Russian, “He’s got a gun, he’s got a gun!” She pointed to the door leading into the hallway.
Security burst through the kitchen door into the hallway where a surprised intoxicated guard leading a team from the ballroom fired a shot down the hall. The gun battle was raging before Elle could clear the dock. It was important she stay away from the main streets where the cameras were. She turned the corner and ducked into an alley, walking, not running to a car parked along the street. As she came closer the lights flashed once. She opened the door, slid in, looked at Pavel and said in Russian, “Thanks for the help.”
As they drove away, Pavel nodded and said, “I have two children, I know what she does. I have always hated that bitch.”
Chapter 7
Man, does coach stink, Amy thought while unfolding her legs into the aisle of the British Airways 777. She’d tried to upgrade to first class but didn’t have the frequent flyer miles yet, and she was way too frugal to spend $2500. She grabbed her bag from the overhead and deplaned. With her tennis shoes, blue jeans and U of A hoody, she bebopped through the terminal like a carefree college kid. She flashed her ID and smiled as she passed the lines for repatriation, slipped out a side door then down to the tarmac where a black SUV was waiting. She opened the back door, jumped in and said, “Hi, Mister Masters.”
He shook his head and said, “You can call me John.”
“It doesn’t seem right, you bein’ a friend of my Uncle Jack’s and all.”
“Do you always have that southern accent?”
“Only when I’m happy.”
“Well, we have a debrief in two hours. Adele will be there.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, Adele just likes to spoil her favorite pets.”
“I’m one of her favorites?” Amy asked with a little fake “Aw, shucks” thrown in.
John’s face went serious and he said, “You are now.”
Arriving at Langley, she called the elevator guard by his first name, gave him a little hug and bounced down the halls, spreading sunshine to everyone she knew. Most didn’t know who and what Fenian was. The ones who did looked at her differently, addressing her with a curt nod and a knowing look. She smiled back anyway.
John rolled his eyes, shook his head and asked, “Jesus Christ, are you running for prom queen?”
“No, people deserved to be loved and acknowledged. Even you.” She grabbed him around his thick neck and kissed him on the cheek.
“Stop it.”
“Oh, okay.”
They
waved to Director Harris’ admin, then walked through the door. Adele got up, walked around her desk gave her a big hug and said, “Hi, honey. Great job.”
“Thank you, director.”
The admin brought in coffee and a cold bottle of Dr. Pepper for Fenian. After the admin excused herself, the director turned serious and asked, “So, how do you think it went?”
Fenian pondered for a moment and said, “Good. Got a little dicey getting into the ballroom, but Pavel and, strangely enough, Nikola made it work. Other than that I had a bunch of drunks in a chaotic crowd. Couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“Hmm,” Adele thought for a moment and was stern when she said, “I think you were a bit gratuitous. You damn near cut her head off. Your mission was not to string her up by her neck and whisper vengeance to her as she died.”
Amy put her business face back on in a hurry and replied. “How do you know that?”
“Because I saw the crime scene photos, and I know you. This is your job, not a place to air your personal shit, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Then with a little grin she said, “You know, you were more fun before you became director.”
“Are you sassing me? Really?” said Adele, then she looked over at John and said, “She’s as bad as T.”
John shook his head and said, “Where do you think she learned it?”
Amy sat back with a little self-satisfied grin drinking her Dr. Pepper when Adele smiled at her and said, “Okay, young lady, do you want to hear about your mission?”
“Well, um, I was there.”
John Masters looked at her with a straight face and shook his head.
“What?”
“After you left, Pavel executed over half of the Asarov’s security team. Seemed Isadora was going to take Nikola out and put herself and her bastard son in charge. So you see, you worked for Nikola and the Russian Mob. You protected him, he protects Pavel, and Pavel talks to us.”
Fenian returned and sat a little stunned, “What about Paige Bennett?”
“Who says I can’t solve two problems with one assassin? You see, you never know as much as you think you do. You never have it all figured out. The day you think you figured it out is the day someone kills you.” It was at that point that Amy understood she was in the middle of an ass chewing. Adele continued, “That grandstanding, speech giving bullshit you pulled? Never again. You don’t even talk to those pieces of shit. You hit ’em and get out, got me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We made a deal and I’ll stick to it. You wanted to protect and avenge children, you got it. I also have a job to do, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.
“You have a long way to go to reach T’s level of proficiency.” Then she softened up and said, “But at the same time, at this point in T’s career, she wasn’t anywhere near as good as you are.”
Amy let go of her alter ego, tipped up her Dr. Pepper, killed it, and let out a little burp. John Masters laughed, Adele shook her head, and said, “Take some time and work on your Farsi. Go back to the woods and relax awhile. We’ll call when we need you.”
“Yes ma’am, thank you…” She stopped and said, “Oh, one more thing, who do I talk to if I get married?”
“MARRIED!” John and Adele exclaimed in stereo.
“Well, yeah, I think my boyfriend is going to ask me to marry him.”
Adele took a deep breath and said, “Sit back down.” Amy sat and Masters said, “This wouldn’t be Zielinski, would it?”
“Well, yeah, what’s the problem? We’ve been together for a couple of years now,” replied a confused Amy.
Adele figured she may be treading on some sacred ground, so she decided not to be too rough. “Honey, here’s the thing. He’s one of the most eligible bachelors on the planet. You are a covert operative. If you marry him, your face will be on every magazine and newspaper in the free world. That kinda kills the covert thing.”
Amy looked down and shook her head then thought with horror, Oh no, it never occurred to me. How could I have been so stupid? Adele saw the look on her face and said, “It doesn’t mean you can’t see him or be with him. But married? You’ve worked really hard, and we have spent lots of time and money getting you here. You’d be throwing it all away. Think about it.”
Amy said nothing. She just sat and looked out the window with a little hollow pain in her gut. After some thought she asked, “What if no one knows? What if we get married in secret and go somewhere else? I mean, you’re married. John’s married. Why not me?”
Adele reached down, pulled Amy to her feet and gave her a warm hug, “You have decisions to make,” she said. Make them carefully.”
Amy nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
As John and Amy left the office and walked down the hall, Amy looked at him and said, “Favorite pet huh? How does she treat her least favorite?”
John shook his head and said, “You don’t want to know.”
Adele waited until they were down the hall, then hit the button for her admin and said “Karen, get that son of a bitch Zielinski on the phone.”
“Boguslaw Zielinski?”
“That’s the one.”
Karen started to giggle because she knew she would get to talk to…him.
Chapter 8
Waves of heat had already appeared on the asphalt on a humid sticky morning on String Hill Road in Black Oak, Alabama. Amy’s dad, Leon Braxton, and her uncle, Jack Brown, sat on Leon’s front porch drinking coffee and watching the newest member of the Braxton clan, two-year-old Samuel Braxton, push a tractor around in a pile of dirt about fifteen feet in front of the porch.
“Whatcha gonna do today Cuz?” asked Jack.
“I dunno, too damn hot to fish.”
“Yep. I gotta cut down that old cottonwood tree. Gotta couple cold ones if ya wanna come help.”
“Yeah, I’ll help ya. Joe’s car ready?”
“Yep, that new motor sounds good; he should have something for ’em tonight.”
Jack’s head turned and his eyes narrowed, looking just past Sam, “You see that?”
“Yep.”
“Better get it.”
Jack called out, “Hey Sam.”
Sam turned to look at Jack. He saw Jack had his hands over his ears, and he saw his Daddy reach behind him and grab the shotgun. Sam mimicked Jack, and put his hands over his ears. Leon jacked a round into the chamber, aimed about three feet left and eight feet beyond Sam, and fired. The pieces of the poisonous copperhead snake that were left flipped up in the air and landed about ten feet from where it had been. Sam looked up at Jack who took his hands off his ears and smiled. Sam took his hands off his ears and resumed playing in the dirt.
“It’s good to have ’em all home, isn’t it?” said Jack.
“Yeah, I think I’ve seen Amy twice in the past two years.”
“I think you’re supposed to meet that feller she likes today. You know anything about him?”
Leon shook his head and said, “Nope, nothing.”
Just then the house began to shake followed by the turbine whine and rotors of a Sikorsky S-76 Helijet. It banked over the top of the hill and settled on a seemingly empty field across the road and about fifty yards from the home of Deloris Tilley, or as the family called her, Granny Patches. The turbine whine subsided and the rotors came to a halt.
“Cuz? You seein’ what I’m seein’?” asked Jack.
“Yep.”
“You know anybody with one of those?”
“No, but I’m thinkin’ it has something to with my oldest.”
“Where’s she at?”
“Shower.”
“She still take them half-hour showers?”
“Yep.”
The door opened and steps lowered. Bogus stepped out in a white linen suit, donned his sung
lasses, shook his mane of blonde hair and waved across the road. Leon and Jack waved back. When Granny Patches stepped out of the house, she was not happy. Sound travels far in the backwoods, and Jack and Leon heard every word.
Bogus walked up to her, smiled and held out his hand. “Hello my good woman. I am Bogus, nice to meet you.”
Granny’s eyes got big as she walked toward the S-76. She turned back to Bogus and said, “Look what you’ve done, LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE! You tore up my ’mater plants with that, that, thang.”
Bogus looked under the helo and saw the twisted mess of vines, “Oh Madam, I am so sorry, I will compensate you for your loss.”
“WHAT? Them’s my prize winners, been growin ’em for years. You cain’t...cain’t...I’m gonna whoop you!”
Granny picked up the broom and took a swing at Bogus’s head. He ducked and backed toward the helo. Leon shook his head. “Hmm, I think that feller’s in trouble.”
“You reckon we should go save him?”
“Nah, let Granny get some of it out.”
“You get back here,” Granny growled while holding up the broom.
Bogus backed against the helo and reached for the door, but it was locked. He made his way around the front ducking more swings of the broom. He looked into the cockpit at his pilot, who had tears streaming down his face and was doubled over in laughter. “Open the door!” shouted Bogus, which just made his pilot laugh harder. “You’re fired!” shouted Bogus. The pilot shook his head as Granny continued her march, swinging at Bogus’ head. He backed away toward the tail on the other side out of view of Leon and Jack, still ducking the broom.
Leon chuckled, “I think Granny’s getting tired,”
Jack agreed “Yep, and that means she’s goin’ after her shotgun.”