by Jonas Saul
The driver nodded, sweat building on his forehead, the hair at his ears wet as if he’d recently come in from the rain.
I know how you feel, man. I’m his prisoner too.
“I want to talk to you further,” Arkady said. “I’m assuming you will come willingly.”
Darwin nodded.
Arkady slipped the gun away. “We have much to talk about. If everything works out, maybe we can do business. I saw how you escaped the feds. What did they want?”
Darwin hoped the feeling in his stomach wouldn’t show on his face.
Now what do I say?
“They wanted me to work with them to help track you. I was told that I would work undercover, or something like that.”
“What did you tell them?”
“To go fuck themselves. They have no idea who I am or what I want. They don’t know my motivations.”
Where the hell am I going with this guy? I don’t even know my motivations.
“What are you looking for?”
“Men of honor, which is only found in the brotherhood.”
“You’re not Russian.”
“Is every hit man you use a Russian? What counts is not the size of the man in the fight—it’s the size of the fight in the man. I can help you claim your territory rights in Toronto. That’s my city. I set meetings up and take care of whatever you need. Your transition into Toronto would be seamless. The families of the Cosa Nostra are in disarray because their bosses are dead. They’re naming new captains and trying to maintain control. This is the best time in Toronto’s history to make a play. In a matter of months, Toronto could be yours.”
The cab pulled over near the terminal. Arkady motioned for the door. Darwin opened it and got out, followed by the Russian. The cab squealed away without getting paid.
“Let’s go,” Arkady said as he took Darwin’s arm and led him into the airport.
When they entered the private plane, two skinheads met them. Both men spent considerable time frisking Darwin in a manner he thought was too rough. He would definitely bruise from the pat-down. Once the plane was airborne, both men joined Arkady in another section of the plane. For the entire flight, Darwin remained alone.
At the Toronto airport, they taxied to a waiting limousine under a sky darkened by rain clouds. As they stepped from the plane, six men stood on the tarmac, surrounding a stretch limo. The air cooled with the imminent threat of rain.
Arkady pointed to the car. Darwin got in the back. Inside, one of the toughest-looking men he’d ever seen sat on the opposing seat. The man could’ve been Dolph Lundgren’s brother. His head was shaved, as well as his bony face. He wore a white tank top that showed off his tattoos and muscles. The expression on his face seemed to be permanently angry. If they ever met in an alley, Darwin knew any ordinary handgun wouldn’t stop a man like this unless the bullet entered his eye, and even then he couldn’t be sure.
The other door opened and Arkady got in.
“Go.”
The limo pulled away.
Landing in Toronto was bittersweet. He would normally be happy to be home, but he wasn’t home without Rosina. He was being chauffeured in a limo with high-ranking members of the Russian Mafia under false pretenses. Anything he learned from Arkady, Darwin would definitely take back to the authorities because people like Arkady needed to be stopped at all costs.
He just hoped he could stay alive long enough to see Rosina again.
Chapter 20
The limousine entered a large warehouse in Etobicoke, which is a large part of the Greater Toronto Area. They drove in silence, Dolph clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared at Darwin. It was extremely intimidating, but Darwin couldn’t show fear. He acted as if the guy was fighting a kidney stone and his fist-clenching was to ward off the pain and fear of going pee. A couple of times, he almost laughed when he looked at Dolph. Arkady turned toward him more than once, but Darwin kept his attention aimed out the window.
He knew a decision had been made about him. They were either going to kill him or they were going to use him. There would be no in-between, because they didn’t keep their location secret from him. He had expected to be blindfolded for the drive to Etobicoke as this was his city and he would know exactly where they were going, but they didn’t.
A sickening thought made him feel faint. What if they were delivering him to the other families of the Cosa Nostra as a peace offering? That would be certain death. With the assassin Darwin Kostas out of the way, then they could deal.
He had to stop thinking about worst-case scenarios. All that did was make him afraid of something that may not be real. He had gotten lucky with Fuccini and luckier with Gambino. Could three times be the charm?
The large garage door behind them dropped, closing off the falling sun and dark clouds from view. Armed men approached the limo from all sides.
He suddenly felt trapped. No one knew where he was. No one asked for a passport when he flew from the States to Canada. The FBI hadn’t wired him. There was no phone number he could call except 911. But would they even believe him if he called and said he was about to be killed by twenty armed Russians in the back of what looked like a cardboard factory?
“Get out,” Arkady ordered.
Darwin grabbed the door handle and stopped when Arkady’s hand landed on his shoulder. He spun and looked at him.
“No sudden movements. These men don’t know you. You’re not Russian. They’ve only heard of you. Your reputation scares them, which makes them angry. There are a few who don’t believe in what I’m doing. Do you understand this?”
“Yeah, I get it. Better if I’m dead. Then there’s nothing to worry about. That about sum it up?”
Arkady nodded.
Darwin got out and stood by the open door. The men closest to him didn’t retreat. Two of them tilted their heads back and watched him down the length of their noses, jaws tightened.
“Give him some room,” Arkady shouted.
There was a moment when Darwin didn’t think they would obey the order, and then they started to step back. Darwin moved away from the limo and closed the door.
Arkady came around from the other side. “This is the Darwin Kostas we’ve all been hearing about. He’s here for a sit-down. We’re going to have our talk and then we’ll decide what to do.” Arkady turned to Dolph. “Take him to the second floor. We’ll meet in five minutes.”
Dolph stepped up, grabbed Darwin’s arm and almost broke it.
Holy shit!
He did his best to not show the pain. The guy’s grip was worse than a vise. It felt like he had a Hummer H2 parked on his arm as he was dragged to a metal staircase and pulled to the second floor.
In the room, he was pushed to a chair in the middle. Dolph stepped out and shut the door behind him, leaving Darwin alone. A table with folding legs sat in front of a chair near the far wall. A rectangular light fixture suspended from the ceiling reminded him of the kind they had in grade school. He felt exposed in the center of the room. He fumbled with his hands, checked for dirt under his nails, and waited for Arkady.
What am I doing here?
There was something surreal about what was happening. It was like he lived through someone else’s eyes and ears. This couldn’t be happening to him. He wrote thrillers; he didn’t live them. The men outside the room killed people and ran drugs and weapons to make money. He was not of their ilk. He felt a greater fear in the tension of having to wait alone. Like waiting at the dentist’s office to have seven teeth pulled and two root canals.
Since everything started months ago, nothing about him remained the same. He had hardened, grown wiser to the goings-on around him. He had lost faith in humanity and gained some in his own abilities. Those abilities were what kept him alive so far and what he needed to draw on to stay alive.
I love you, Rosina.
Arkady entered the room, a gun in his hand. He closed and locked the door and walked to the table and chair where he sat facing Darwin. He placed
the weapon on the table, the barrel aimed at Darwin.
“We need to talk.”
Darwin nodded. He had to think hard and make sure everything he said was the right answer. He felt that the wrong answer wouldn’t get a buzzer with a large red X. It would get a bullet.
“Tell me what happened with the Fuccini Family.”
Darwin considered that he had to put on the act of wanting to join the Russian Mafia so every answer had to sound like that was his agenda from the beginning. He talked about how he learned of the meeting in north Toronto and how he drove there to observe. When he saw Vincenzo leaving the premises alone, he ran him over with his car to make sure Gambino’s job was complete.
When Darwin finished, he seriously hoped Arkady bought the lies.
He continued, telling Arkady that after taking out the rest of the Fuccinis, Gambino would come calling, so he waited. He explained that Arkady should already know the rest because Rudy Earlton had escaped the Gambino mansion, thanks to Darwin.
“Where’s Rosina?” Arkady asked.
He couldn’t say the word dead. That was an outright lie. Arkady would see it on his face. His love for Rosina was transparent.
Darwin dropped his head and stared at his hands. It brought a tear to his eye that a man like Arkady was even discussing his wife with him.
“She’s no longer with us,” Darwin said, still looking down.
“You mean she’s dead?”
Darwin met his eyes. “Read the morning papers.”
“I don’t understand something,” Arkady said as he stood from his chair. “Why would you bring your wife into this? Wasn’t that dangerous?”
“It was a ploy. A checkers move.”
“What?” Arkady asked. He lifted his weapon and walked around the table to sit on the front corner. “What kind of move?”
“She was my partner. The Fuccini Family had killed her brother,” he lied, making his face as solid as a stone. He wanted no expression to mar his speech. “She wanted revenge. We met up and decided to fly to Rome, where the Fuccinis had an office. We married in Rome to make it look like we were a young couple on vacation. No real threat to anyone. As the Cosa Nostra attacked, one-by-one we executed them and flew back to Canada where we contacted Richard H and his biker gang to back us up in a meeting with Fuccini. You know the rest.”
“So you are actually married?”
It was the first time Arkady cracked a full smile.
“Yes.”
“I kill liars. You know that, Darwin. I kill them in this room. It’s easy. I ask questions and when I catch the first lie I shoot them in the knee. Shortly after, the next knee. Three strikes, you’re out. Bullet in the forehead.” He raised the gun and tapped his temple. “The fish rots from the head first.”
Darwin almost held his stomach to keep what little he had in there. The thought that Arkady knew something more and caught him in a lie made him feel it was over that quick. He wanted to shift in his seat, but didn’t. He wanted to run at Arkady and strangle the life out of him, but didn’t. He sat and waited for a bullet.
“But so far, everything you have said makes sense. I checked you out and saw a real marriage license. I’m impressed with the lengths you will go to create a cover. Not many people could take down two Cosa Nostra bosses and live. The families around here want your head. There are other families in the old country who want you dead.”
“That’s why I want to work for you. The fear that my name instills adds to your strength.” A cool sweat broke out all over Darwin’s body.
Arkady stood from the corner of the table and started pacing. “We’ll get to that. But first I want to ask you a series of questions and I want the most honest answers you can give me. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
Arkady walked around behind Darwin. “I want you to picture a cube in the desert.”
“What do you mean, a cube?”
“Any cube. It can be made of anything. You picture it. Later I will want as many details as you can offer about the cube. Do it now.”
Darwin had no idea where this was going but he understood that it was some kind of test. Passing the test could mean the difference between walking out of the room on his own two feet or being taken out in a body bag.
“Next, I want you to picture a ladder,” Arkady said. “I want to know what it’s made of and where the ladder is in relation to the cube.”
Darwin’s knee bounced and he stopped it for fear of looking nervous. He wanted to wipe the sweat from his brow but chose not to.
“Are you ready?” Arkady asked, still standing behind him.
Darwin nodded.
“Okay, two more things. Picture a horse. I want to know the kind it is, where it is, and what it’s doing at the moment.”
Darwin did and waited for the last item.
The Russian gangster stepped around to Darwin’s right and looked down at him. “Are you ready for one more?”
“Yes. Go ahead.”
“Picture a storm. Tell me everything you can about this storm. Where is it? How far are you from it? What kind of storm is it? Got it?”
Darwin nodded.
“Okay, I’m going to let a few people in to hear your answers.”
Arkady opened the door and half a dozen Russians stepped into the room.
This is it. I’m doomed. I have no idea what the fuck is happening. How the hell can a cube and a horse have anything to do with laundering money and running drugs? What the fuck is happening here?
He remained stone-faced as the men formed a semi circle around the desk. The only man who stayed slightly behind him was Dolph. He leaned against the closed doors and folded his meaty arms.
I’m fucking done. Please, God, have someone waiting for me on the other side. Make it quick and painless.
He studied their faces, wondering if one of them could be undercover FBI like Carson had told him. Maybe more than one of the men in the room worked for the feds. Would that matter if Arkady lifted his weapon and shot him in the face?
Probably not.
“Now, tell me about the cube first. Your answers will reveal something about you that only we will know. If we like your answers, you live. If we don’t like your answers, you die. What the answers reveal is absolute truth without you knowing how. It may sound confusing, but this is how we operate. Are we clear?”
Darwin nodded, afraid to use his voice. What answers would be right? What did he mean when he said that they would know something about his answers? Was this a form of strategy like in chess or was it psychology class?
“Start by telling us about your cube,” Arkady said.
“I pictured a large cube. One made of hardened steel and impenetrable. Nothing can hurt it, mark it or destroy it. Like a cockroach after a nuclear war, the cube would keep on sitting in the desert, the sun reflecting off its surface.”
Heads turned, eyebrows raised. A couple of the men nodded to one another.
“Very good,” Arkady said. “The cube represents you.”
“Me? How so?”
“The cube is a look into your self-esteem, how you feel about yourself. What you just told us is that you’re unbeatable, unbreakable. You’re as strong as steel and even after the war, you will be the last man standing, untouched. I like that.”
Darwin was shocked. He had no idea how they linked the cube to him but he was happy his description was good.
“The ladder,” Arkady said. “Tell us about your ladder.”
“It’s strong too, but not as strong as the cube. Its metal frame can be bent with enough pressure.”
“Where do you see the ladder in relation to the cube?”
He hoped this wasn’t a trick. He thought fast and decided on what to say.
“The ladder is lying down under the cube. It’s stuck and unless the cube is moved, or decides to move, the ladder isn’t going anywhere.”
More nods. He knew this answer worked also. Two for two.
But what the hell does
the ladder represent? Is it a phallic symbol?
“The ladder represents law enforcement and how you feel about them. What you just told us is that they are not a threat to you—at least you don’t see it that way. You’re on top of them, as in the cube sitting on the ladder. The rungs are made of metal, but they can be bent, which leads to how you can get them to do what you want when you want, like in the help you’ve received using the FBI. Brilliant, actually.”
“How do you know all these things and what they represent?”