Doubled or Nothing

by Warren Esby

  “Okay.”

  I walked back to Baskin Robbins and Ben and Jerry were just finishing up.

  “A fine bunch of protectors you turned out to be. They noticed I was alone and tried to kill me. And you said if I joined you, I would be safe with you guys. Now I don’t know what to think about doing business with you.”

  “Well they know you’re working for us now, so you don’t have a choice,” Jerry said.

  “Don’t I? I think they were trying to scare me into behaving, and it got out of hand and I had to kill them. It may have been a big mistake and unauthorized. I’ll find out. And if the word went out that I’m working for you now, I may allow them to convince me to join them once again if I think I have a better chance of them protecting me from you rather you from them.”

  “Listen. We can do a better job. This is our country, not theirs. We have more resources.”

  “It didn’t help me today.”

  “You didn’t need help. It’s apparent you can take care of yourself. Besides, we can put you in our agent protection program with lots of money, and we can give you more money than they can.”

  “Okay. I’m willing to continue, but I’m still not convinced yet.”

  What I had said to Ben and Jerry was of course a big load of bullshit so I could stay alive as long as possible with nothing to offer them of real value. I knew from Olga/Anya that neither Igor nor Vladimir dared tell anyone above them that Olga had replaced Ivor and also didn’t dare tell them that they didn’t have the information that Ivor had obtained or that they suspected I had. And since Olga/Anya was not part of the cell, no one was left to communicate with the Russian handlers. So I didn’t think I was in any danger from them, only from Ben and Jerry. I suddenly realized, however, that Olga/Anya was in jeopardy because she was driving around in Ivor’s car and when they came looking for the cars when Igor and Vladimir failed to check in, they would only find Olga/Anya alive and maybe make sure she didn’t remain that way for very long. I suspected they may have homing devices on all three cars. I would have to tell her that her transportation had to go, but I could afford to replace it so she would still have wheels. I would do that over dinner that night.

  Sam and Louie showed up along with some guys in a ServePro van. It was painted like a ServPro van and you had to remember how the real one spelled its name in order to realize it wasn’t the same company. It didn’t take them long and they finished just before dark. Sam and Louie had fished Igor and Vladimir’s car keys out of their pockets and identified which car belonged to each key. They drove them over and, after it became too dark to see well, they loaded the rolled up carpets that had been brought in the ServePro van, and that now contained the bodies of Igor and Vladimir, into the trunks of the two black Buick Regals and drove off. Ben called Herb and told him that we had target practice for two drones on the next day at 2:00 PM as usual.

  I said, “Better make that three. We need to get rid of the third one also. They probably have a tracer on it and once the other two disappear, they’ll come looking for the third and that’ll lead them back to me.”

  “You’ve got a point,” he said and he called Herb back and said, make that three targets.

  Olga/Anya came back as they were leaving and Ben said to me as they left, “You tell her.”

  “Tell me what?” she asked.

  “We have to get rid of your car. The Russians are going to come looking for Igor and Vladimir when Vadimir doesn’t check in, and if they see Ivor’s Buick out here as well, instead of with his parents, they may want to find the driver and question her and kill her afterwards. You won’t be safe, and if it’s true that they don’t know about you, then it’s better this way.”

  “But I’ll need a car. What will I do without a car? And what will I do about money? Vladimir had all the money.”

  “I’ll buy you a new car. And I’ll give you money.”

  “What kind of a car? I don’t want an old Corolla like you like to drive or a SUV with a lot of door dings and scratches. My Buick looks good, all black and shiny.”

  “Well, what kind of car do you want?”

  “A new Porsche 911. I always wanted to drive around in a Porsche.”

  “Okay. I’ll buy you a Porsche, but you’ll have to wait until after next weekend when I get more money. In the meantime I’ll let you borrow the Expedition and you can drive me back and forth to work. Or should I get Astrid to drive me?”

  “You do that and I may have to decide not to wait for someone to say ‘kill him.’ I may have to say it myself,” she said and then she added, “just to keep you from embarrassing yourself if nothing else.” And she smiled almost a grin when she said it.

  I knew then I was making progress in her feelings towards me and that she might yet not kill me after all.

  “You really need to get rid of that wig. Olga should die along with the Buick Regal. Someone may have seen you with it. You never know. And you don’t need it anymore now that they’re all dead.”

  She thought for a minute and said, “Okay. But not just yet. You’re not off the hook yet. If I have to kill you, I’ll have to do it as Olga and wear the wig. Anya can’t do it. She likes you too much.” I didn’t know if she was kidding because she was smiling as she said it, and then she continued, “I still want the Federovs to think I accomplished something for Ivor and for them. I was Anya before I was Olga and I can be Anya again since that is what they know me by. But I have to feel like they’re happy. So, if I become Anya again permanently, it will only be after you helped me make them happy.”

  So I tried to argue with her. I told her I didn’t have anything and if I did, I wouldn’t want to be considered a traitor and turn it over to the Federovs, and if I didn’t, Ben and Jerry would have me killed and I wouldn’t be able to help her if I were dead. She didn’t seem to care and said,

  “No. If we go forward, you have to try and work something out for me and the Federovs. I know you’re smart. You went to MIT and Ivor said you were smart. So try to work something out and don’t be so pig headed about it.”

  Well that certainly ended the argument as I suspected she knew it would and I said, “Okay. I’ll try.”

  We went out to Del Mar Plaza again but didn’t go to Il Fornaio because she didn’t want Italian food again. We ate at Pacifica Del Mar which had more of a variety but was just as good, maybe better. We then went back to the motel that she, Igor and Vladimir had been staying at halfway between Del Mar and Laundromat Town and got all of Igor and Vladimir’s clothes and belongings they had left behind and all of hers as well. I checked all of them out of their motel rooms and paid in cash. I still had plenty left. We went back to my apartment and had sex. The sex was not as good as it could have been. No, it wasn’t because we knew Igor and Vladimir had died there that afternoon. We both agreed that neither of us cared a bit about them being dead. It hadn’t bothered me at the time, and after much reflection, it hasn’t bothered me since. What bothered me was the antiseptic smell of the apartment. It was almost like making love in a hospital room. I don’t know for sure because the nurse I was dating at the Massachusetts General Hospital chickened out at the last minute, but I imagine it would have been the same, except she was a brunette and not a blonde.

  We followed Ben’s Escalade Hybrid out into the desert the next day around 10:00 AM. Jerry didn’t want to take the new one and get it all dirty. We drove in the third Buick with all of Igor’s and Vladimir’s belongings in it, and I hoped that they hadn’t started looking for us yet. The Russians that is. Ben and Jerry knew where we were. We stopped like before in Borrego Springs for lunch and went out to the target site. Sam and Louie had parked the other two Buicks in the target area and then Sam took the Buick we were driving and parked it next to the other two in a neat formation. Each car was parked nose in and the cars looked from a distance like the face of a watch with three hands instead of two and with each hand represented by one of the cars. Each car was equidistant from the other with the noses of
each car practically touching. We drove down from the ridge we were on in the Escalade and picked up Sam and Louie and drove back up the ridge to park where we had parked the last time I had been out there. The six of us waited a bit and precisely at two o’clock, three drones came into view and approached the targets.

  Ben said, “Times up,” to be funny and the three drones released their missiles at the targets at exactly the same time, and the three explosions sounded like one huge explosion as a dust cloud went up and settled into a very large crater with a lot of twisted metal in the middle of it. I didn’t know if the bodies of Igor and Vladimir were still in the trunks of the Buicks and I didn’t ask. I’m sure if they had been, they would have been completely incinerated. It was that kind of an explosion. We all returned to San Diego together in the Escalade Hybrid which had adequate seating for six adults. When Jerry dropped Anya and me off at my apartment, he reminded me that I needed to go down to Rosarito Beach the following weekend for the final run after which we would have a serious talk, as if nothing serious had happened up to then. To say I couldn’t wait would be a lie so I won’t say I couldn’t wait. I could wait forever.

  Chapter 30

  I pulled up with Ben’s shiny, freshly washed and waxed Escalade Hybrid in front of the police station near Rosarito Beach. Mr. Straw Hat Policeman and Mr. Cowboy Policeman were waiting out front with the two Si Si Riders as we drove up. They said the shipment was due that morning but was late. They didn’t know what to do but wait. Olga got down from the passenger’s seat wearing the black wig. This was a business trip after all. She was wearing her black sneakers and a black tee shirt and tight black jeans. The jeans were so tight that you knew that she had nothing in the pockets. Although the jeans had pockets, there was no way there could have been even a penny in any one of them without being able to see the outline of Lincoln’s head. She also had on a black jean jacket, and the jean jacket had a red collar and red cuffs to match made of leather. It also had red leather lining the two pockets that were big enough for her to put her hands in if they got cold. She really looked good in spite of the black wig and received appreciative looks from the assemblage. I nodded to them but they looked only at Olga. Mr. Straw Hat Policeman took off his straw hat and made a sweeping bow towards Olga with his hat, and Mr. Cowboy Policeman said, “That’s about the best drug runner we’ve seen around here in my memory.” Olga smiled at them and thanked them for their compliments.

  The merchandise arrived in an old black Expedition a few minutes later. Do they make them in any other color, I wondered. I don’t remember having seen any other color but black, and then I remembered what old Mr. Henry Ford was reputed to have said about the Model T. You can have one in any color you wish as long as it’s black. I think they resurrected that motto for the Expedition. The driver and passenger got out of the Expedition, and Mr. Straw Hat Policeman and Mr. Cowboy Policeman looked at them without recognition and then looked at what they were carrying in their hands with recognition. They each were carrying an AK-47 assault rifle, and I thought that Ivor would definitely not approve of the unsafe way they were carrying them. The rifles were pointing directly at us. Both men carrying them were smiling, and then the driver said in English with a heavy Mexican accent, I guess out of deference to Mr. Cowboy Policeman, to please throw all of their weapons on the ground in front of them. Olga and I were standing off to the side next to the Escalade Hybrid but they only addressed this request to our hosts. I guess we must have looked harmless enough, and Olga didn’t look like she could have anything hidden on her anyway. Before you knew it there were six semi-automatic handguns, all Glocks, lying in the dust which is not a very nice way to treat a handgun. I am fanatical about keeping mine clean as Ivor had taught me. Then the driver of the Expedition motioned to Olga to come over to him and said to the others,

  “I think I will let you watch while we have a little fun with the senorita before we kill you all.”

  Olga walked over to him with a come on smile on her face and made a kissing motion with her mouth. His smile got even bigger. She walked over to him with her head upturned to receive a kiss, and as he reached for her to give her the kiss, she shot him through his ear, her favorite target for pigs. She always carried that little Beretta and the red-lined jean pocket was just big enough to hold it within easy reach. The other Mexican holding the AK-47 was watching the whole time but his partner’s body had blocked his view of Olga’s hand with the gun, and he didn’t know what was happening until he heard the small explosion and watched his partner’s head explode with pieces of brain and bone splattering the Expedition. Before he could react, I shot him through his right ear since his head was turned sideways as he looked towards his friend and Olga, and his ear was available as a target. Since it was Olga’s favorite target, I figured if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for me. Boy that Expedition was going to need a trip to the car wash if this kept happening, I thought to myself. As soon as both Mexicans who had been carrying those AK-47s hit the ground, the others picked up their Glocks and started firing rounds into the already dead AK Forty-Seveners. What is it about these Glock owners? Do they always have to horn in on other people’s kills or do they just have to fire those Glocks every chance they get whether they need to or not just like they have some sort of a disease. I still haven’t figured out the answer to that yet. I now own a Glock myself, but I’ve never had the urge to do that. Maybe I developed some immunity to it by being exposed to it like that, sort of like being immune from Chicken Pox once you’ve had it as a child.

  After the fireworks ended, Mr. Straw Hat Policeman said, “Thank you Senorita, thank you Senor. We are eternally indebted to you.” He then told the two Si Si Riders to load all the merchanidse that was in the Expedition into the Escalade Hybrid, with the exception of Pedro and Estaban who were the original driver and Si Si Rider and were now lying dead in the back seat. When they had finished loading the Escalade Hybrid, he told them to take the Forty-Seveners and put them in the back of the Expedition where the merchandise had recently been. He then turned to me and said,

  “We will not confiscate this nice SUV on this trip as we would have done if you hadn’t saved our lives the way you did. Of course my wife will be disappointed since she wanted a matched set.”

  So will Ben, I thought to myself at the time.

  “Maybe next time,” I suggested and he smiled and said, “Si. Maybe next time. We certainly do enjoy working with you and appreciate working with other professionals who know what they are doing.”

  I thanked him for his kind words and asked what he planned to do with the Expedition.

  “Oh, there is a spot on the way to our competitor’s location in Ensenada that they have to pass by on their way there. They will recognize it and get the message. Now we must get this load delivered. We have customers we need to satisfy and can now do so thanks to you.”

  Just as we were about to get into our various parade vehicles, another Expedition drove into the yard and out stepped Boris.

  “Two men were down here two weeks ago who said they know you. At least they described the way you look and you look the way they described you. Their names are Igor and Vladimir. One has a big round face and curly black hair and the other is bald but has a moustache, but not as nice as mine. Some people I know would like to get in touch with them. They have been trying for the last week. They seemed to have gone out to the desert and not come back. Since they said they knew you, I thought I would inquire as to whether you can tell me anything. Do you know where they are by any chance or have you seen them recently?” He was being very polite.

  I answered by saying, “I can’t say.”

  That was a lie. Of course I could have said. But it wasn’t a big lie. Not as if I had said that I don’t know. That would have been a big fat lie. What I said was a self-preservation lie which falls into the category of little white lie. Well, maybe not a little white lie because a little white lie isn’t supposed to hurt anyone and I had defin
itely hurt Igor and Vladimir. Maybe, then it was a grey lie. I didn’t want to explain what had really happened in case that would have resulted in Boris becoming less polite, which I know would have embarrassed him in front of the others and perhaps me as well.

  Olga added, “Neither can I.” Good girl, I thought. Olga didn’t worry about what kind of lie it was. It wasn’t important enough for her.

  We said goodbye to Boris and got into the Escalade Hybrid because, as they say, the parade must go on. Our parade did not get rained on all the way to Laundromat Town. It almost never rains in San Diego between April and October anyhow, so that was a pretty safe bet.

  As we were driving north, I said to Olga, “The ear really is a good target, isn’t it? I mean it’s just as good as an eye if you only have a .25 ACP caliber automatic.”

  She agreed and said, “I’ve always thought that ever since I killed pigs for that farmer butcher. I always shot them in the ear because you didn’t destroy any meat or hide that was useful.”

  “Except for the ear itself,” I replied. “I mean the ear is useful.”

  “Only if you want to make a silk purse,” she replied, “but that’s only from the female pigs anyway.”

  “Yup. And I guess you still have the other ear of the female pigs to address that market.”

  “Yes. And the market for silk purses is really down recently. You hear of very few women wanting silk purses anymore, and one ear from each sow should be enough to satisfy the present market.”

  And then we both started laughing together. It appears we have the same sense of humor and the same way of looking at things which is important if you want to establish a long term relationship, which I did and hoped she did too. That adage about not being able to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear is one of the ones I heard over and over again growing up, and I think a lot of other kids have heard it as well from a very young age, and maybe they don’t understand what it means at first. My dad used to say it a lot when I was growing up, and every time he said it, my mother would say, “And how.” She always had to have the last word and the last word usually was “And how.” Actually it was the last two words she always had to have.