Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella)

by Ty Hutchinson

  Viktor had to assume that Darby was already alerting the local law enforcement about what he saw. This might escalate things. He had to get Darby now. His plan was to hit Darby tonight: Get in and get out—fast. He hadn’t yet decided, though, which way would give him the most pleasure: up close and personal or far away and unexpected. He had to be successful either way for joy. Even though he was ignoring his obligations back in Belarus, he had to do this.

  Like clockwork, Viktor began to run the scenarios if the address proved to be right. He calculated how much time he would have, where law enforcement might be. He had to assume they would be scattered around the area. Darby might not even be there. This hit had all the signs of a zero success rate. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t.

  Viktor pressed the button on the elevator and waited, still consumed with planning. The elevator door opened and before he could enter a man on his cell phone bumped into him as he exited in a hurry, mumbling something that sounded like a Russian name. In this neighborhood, Viktor barely noticed him. He pressed the button for the fourth floor and settled in for the slow ride up.

  Something seems off about the man on the phone, he thought as the elevator creaked and groaned. He mentioned a Russian name, sounded American. Soon Viktor found himself replaying the scene in his head. The doors to the elevator open. I look up. A man on his phone walks straight into me. He’s in a rush. He glances at me for a second as he passes by. He mouths the word, “Sorry.” What is it about this man that seems strange? Viktor thought. Was it because he was inquiring about a Russian? Was it because he seemed secretive? Was it because… He didn’t recognize him at first but he did now: Darby Stansfield!

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened to an empty fourth floor. Viktor sprinted to the apartment. Everything seemed to be in place. He checked his suitcase. It had been opened. On the couch, spread out, was his newspaper. Viktor searched the pockets of the suitcase. The picture of Darby was missing.

  Chapter 80

  My phone started ringing again. It was Detective Sokolov.

  “Darby, it’s Detective Sokolov. Where are you?”

  “I’m just getting into my car and I’m heading home right now.”

  “You should have been home long ago.”

  “Look, Detective, would you please just tell me what’s going on?”

  “Viktor Kazapov is in San Francisco. It’s been confirmed. He is here for you.”

  “I knew it. Everyone said not to worry. ‘He can’t get to you’,” I mocked in a sing-songy voice. “Bullshit.”

  “There’s something else. We discovered Viktor Kazapov has another identity. He is Ghostface, a Russian hitman who has eluded law enforcement around the world for almost 20 years. We suspect even his own gang had no idea. Darby, you are in grave danger.”

  “Why are you telling me this? It’s not helping.” I said as I put the car in gear.

  “You should fully understand the situation.”

  Sheesh. Not only is this guy some badass gangster, he moonlights on the side as an invisible hitman. I’m always the screwed, never the screwer. I sat there staring out the window of my car feeling as if I had no control over what was happening. It was as if everything was all left to fate. It was obvious right then that my Russian friends were of no help. My only hope was Sokolov. And now he just popped my balloon.

  “Are you there? Darby?”

  “Yes, I’m still here.”

  “You need to come back to your place so we can put you into protective custody.”

  “I’m in my car driving. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I didn’t dare mention the apartment or what I saw in there. I didn’t think breaking and entering to get a gun would go over well.

  The more I thought about it, the more the picture started to come together. The empty apartment, the suitcase, my picture, the name on the luggage tags––that’s where Viktor was staying. Crap! I broke into the hiding place of the psycho who is trying to kill me. What the hell, Ivan? Why would you send me there? How much more unlucky can I be? Strike that. I don’t want to know.

  Boris Turov had to be the fake name that Viktor used to get into the country. But why would he be in Orlov’s apartment? That’s what confused me the most. Ivan had personally sent me there to get a gun. Was Orlov planning against the gang? Was Orlov helping Viktor? If so, Ivan may not have known about this. Or did he? The bigger question, of course, was where the hell was Orlov?

  Anyway, I was glad to get out of that apartment and away from the sour smell of boiled cabbage. Disgusting.

  Chapter 81

  In a matter of minutes, Viktor was back outside. He looked up and down the street. Seeing no one, he recalled the mental check he made earlier of the cars parked outside. The white Smart Car was missing. This was the second time the American had slipped by him. Viktor’s anger took the reins as all reason went out the window. He was going to kill Darby tonight.

  It didn’t take long for the mad assassin to catch up with the Smart Car. He took a chance that Darby would head toward Geary Boulevard, the main road in and out of the Inner Richmond area.

  The vehicle had just turned left onto Geary. Viktor unfortunately caught the red light. He kept an eye on the Smart Car for as long as he could. Every second the light remained red seemed like an eternity. Viktor was losing it. He cursed the slowness of the light. He pummeled the steering wheel with both hands. The drivers in the other cars around him carefully avoided making eye contact with the devil.

  The light turned green and Viktor screeched forward. Moving through traffic, he regained sight of the Smart Car and stayed three car lengths behind it.

  You feeble-minded American. You think you can put me, Viktor Kazapov, behind bars? You have no idea what I am capable of. Darby had to understand this before Viktor killed him. He had to experience fear. He had to know how powerful a force Viktor Kazapov could be.

  Under the conditions Viktor faced, he needed two things to dispose of Darby. The time needed for preparation and weapons—neither of which he had available to him now. One thing Viktor was sure of was that it needed to be quick. A drive-by might be the best move given the circumstances, but he wanted Darby to know who he had dared to challenge.

  Chapter 82

  I was about four miles away from The Vic when I noticed a brown sedan driving erratically a few cars back. Ever since Fat Sal got the jump on me six months ago, I had made it habit to pay attention to my surroundings. I didn’t want him to have the opportunity again. I probably spent more time looking in my rearview mirror than I did looking ahead.

  I slowed a bit wanting to see who the driver was. It didn’t take long before the sedan had caught up and was now one car behind. The man driving appeared to be Caucasian. Maybe he had a mustache. That’s all I could tell at the moment.

  The car didn’t seem to be getting any closer and it was no longer driving aggressively. I continued to watch it though. Not gonna slip this time. I watched the car fall farther back. It was probably my imagination getting the best of me. I was nearing The Vic anyway.

  When I pulled up outside the house, I was a bit disappointed. Where was the dog and pony show? Shouldn’t there have six or seven black-and-whites parked all over the place and a command center set-up? The entire street was devoid of San Francisco’s finest, from what I could tell. The parking lights didn’t give off much light, so there were a lot of dark patches on the street.

  No sooner had I turned off the ignition than five men surrounded my car. “Darby Stansfield?”

  “Yes, I’m Darby.”

  One of the men opened my car door and shoved a badge in my face.

  “I’m Special Agent Hernandez. This is Special Agent Moore. Please hurry; come with us right away.”

  Before I knew it I was dragged out of my car and ushered to a black van across the street. Within seconds I was tucked away inside and Tav and Ralphie were staring right at me. It felt good to see familiar faces.

  Chapter 83

 
Ralphie leapt from Tav’s arms and slammed right into me, slobbering all over my face with big wet licks. He was happy to see me. I was happy to see him. “You miss me buddy, huh?” I gave Ralphie a big hug. They always say that animals have a way of sensing if their owners are in trouble. While I wasn’t Tav, I think Ralphie knows I’m important to Tav, and he knew something was wrong. He was obviously relieved to see that I was okay.

  “Did they fill you in?” Tav asked.

  “Yeah. Detective Sokolov called me and told me and I rushed home.”

  “This is crazy.”

  I knew what Tav was getting at. “This is crazy,” was code for “Here we are again, caught up in a very dangerous situation.” I turned to the FBI guys who ushered me into the van. “So what happens now?”

  “We wait.”

  “Here in the van? All night?”

  “If need be.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be holed up in a hotel or something?”

  “That only happens in the movies. You watch too much TV.” He gestured to the other side of the van. “There's soda and sandwiches in the cooler over there. You guys help yourselves.”

  And we did. I looked over at Tav between bites. “How long have you guys been in here?”

  “Not long. Maybe twenty minutes.”

  “What did Detective Sokolov tell you?”

  “Same thing he told you, except I was with him when he got the phone call.”

  “What phone call?”

  “He didn’t mention anything about your old apartment?”

  “No why? What happened?”

  “Jeez, Darb, they said your old apartment was compromised. Viktor got in.”

  “Really?” Damn. Thank God I kept the old apartment. It threw the scent off of me.

  “There’s something else…” Tav said, sounding uncomfortable.

  “What?”

  “They found a body. A dead body.”

  “How did a dead body get in there? Who is it?”

  “They don’t know. There wasn’t any ID and she was naked.” He swallowed. “It might be Hillary, Darb…”

  Hillary? No, it can’t be Hillary. How did she—oh my god, the key! I sat still, flabbergasted, jaw slightly open. I had given Hillary the key to my old apartment. I totally forgot. And she kept it. I didn’t think she would. This is my fault. I’m responsible for Hillary’s death.

  “Darb, you okay?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  This was the second girl that I’d been involved with that had died. Wait, backtrack—make that murdered. Am I cursed?

  The shock felt worse with Hillary. Over the last month the relationship had progressed in ways I had never imagined. I think that was the key difference between Tatiana and Hillary. I simply had more time to get to know Hillary.

  “There’s a chance it might not be her,” Tav said.

  “It’s her.”

  “Chin up, man. Until you know––“

  “Six months ago I gave her the key to my apartment as a joke. Told her if she ever felt like stopping by naked in an overcoat, don’t hesitate. She must have kept the key.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. That was a long time ago. How could you have known this would happen?”

  I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw up. Hillary was dead because of me—me and my stupid joking. Seriously Darb, you need to grow up. “I caused this. I’m responsible.”

  “No you’re not, Darb.”

  “I don’t know. If she didn’t have the key…”

  Then Agent Moore chimed in. “Look pal, this ain’t none of my business but don’t beat yourself up about it. There’s no way you could have known. Plus, let’s not forget about the psycho who’s out there. He did the killing, not you. Remember that.” He handed me a cup of coffee.

  It tasted good. I always wondered what surveillance coffee tasted like, whether they got the gourmet stuff or the generic swill.

  “It’s an unfortunate event. Wrong place at the wrong time,” agreed Agent Hernandez. “But that’s why we’re here: to nail this sonofabitch.”

  I sipped my coffee. I knew what they were saying was true. “Special Agent Hernandez, what’s your experience with guys like Viktor?”

  “They’re the worst. They feel no remorse for their kills—even take pride them. Much like an Army sniper will take pride in his kills, but that’s war. This––this is just him killing someone for no reason.”

  “Do you think we’ll get him?”

  “Without a doubt. We have six cars with highly trained agents spread out over this street. There are agents in the house. If he makes a move here, we’ll take him down.”

  “I hope so. This guy seems to move, well, like a ghost.”

  It was getting later and still no sign of Viktor. No one was sure if he was coming or not or if he even knew of this address but they had to assume he would, given he was Ghostface. Someone that good figured stuff out.

  Chapter 84

  The sniper on the building opposite The Vic kept track of all movement on the street. He blended perfectly with the background. He was invisible to the naked eye down below.

  From his vantage point he could see everything. He watched the old lady walking her dog, the jogger, the pizza delivery kid. He watched them all. Maybe that’s why he missed the man standing right behind him.

  Viktor reached around with his blade and slit the sniper’s neck, leaving him gurgling on the rooftop. His life ended a few seconds later.

  Viktor picked up the brand new DSR-1 sniper rifle with quick-detachable tactical silencer and night vision scope. It was a German product. Such a powerful weapon… this wasn’t the local police force, Viktor thought. They brought their best welcoming party.

  He surveyed the other rooftops to see if there was a second shooter. When he was convinced they had deployed only one, he scoped the streets, the cars, and the surrounding buildings. He easily spotted law enforcement in their vehicles. The black van at the top of the street must be a command center. Viktor had to assume they had men inside the house.

  The white Smart Car was parked right outside of a Victorian home. Earlier, Viktor got caught up in traffic and fell behind more than he wanted. But seeing that Darby was heading back into a residential area, he simply drove up and down every street until he spotted the car.

  Viktor scanned the windows searching for a sign. He got it. There was a window with the lights on. The curtain was drawn but there was a crack. He zeroed in with the scope and saw what looked like an FBI agent. I haven’t had the chance to tango with the FBI. This should be fun. He focused. He waited. He watched their movement. By his calculation there were three, maybe four of them in that room.

  Viktor figured that if Darby were nearby, he would be in another room in the house or in the black van, the command center. His hunch told him they wouldn’t risk keeping him in the house.

  It was nearing half past nine. Viktor knew he needed to make a move. He had plans to leave on the red-eye to Taiwan. Boris would fly the coop while they continued to look for Viktor.

  He checked his ammunition. The magazine in the gun held five rounds and he found four more box magazines on the sniper. That gave him a total of twenty-five rounds.

  Viktor counted the law enforcement in the cars. By his count there were eight, plus the three or four he could see through the window in the apartment. Twelve rounds spoken for. Was he thinking of eliminating everyone? He was. It was the only way. He had to kill as many of them as possible, and quickly.

  The big unknown was the man count in the van. Viktor guessed three agents. That brought his count, including Darby, to fifteen people that needed to be eliminated.

  Chapter 85

  The first shot was fired at exactly 9:45p.m. The head of the agent in the driver’s seat of the black SUV exploded. A second later his partner’s head popped open. Viktor moved on to the next vehicle and eliminated the two agents. That was four before anybody registered that they were being fired upon.

  T
he next two agents went down just as quickly. Viktor still had one more vehicle with two agents, plus the men in the apartment and the van. He swung the rifle toward the last car. Before he could get a shot off, he spotted the side of the van opening. Agent Hernandez stepped outside. Viktor aimed and sent a bullet right through the middle of his face. Presto, no more face. The body crumpled to the ground, half in the van half outside. Viktor could hear screaming coming from the van.

  Scream, Darby. You’re next.

  A hand pushed the agent’s body the rest of the way out onto the street and slammed the door.

  By now the two agents in the last car were out and hiding behind it. Too bad Viktor could still see the tops of their foreheads with his night vision. Bam, bam, down. That’s how it’s done.

  Chapter 86

  “The rooftop position has been compromised. I repeat, the rooftop position has been compromised. Our guy is the shooter on the roof,” Sokolov shouted over the radio. It didn’t take long for Sokolov and the other agents to spot the muzzle flashes. But by then, the damage had been done. To what extent, they were about to find out.

  Agent Moore cracked over the radio, “We have a man down outside of the van. I repeat, Agent Hernandez is down. He’s dead. The package is okay.”

  Sokolov continued to radio the other positions but none of them were responding. After a quick reassessment, he realized Ghostface had eliminated all of the agents on the street, with the exception of Agent Moore in the van.

  The first to respond to the deadly news was the young Turk, Agent Krasowski. “Are we seriously down nine men? How did that happen? Who is this guy?”

  Sokolov turned to him. “I told you earlier that Ghostface was dangerous.”

  “That’s eight men gone. Shit.”

  “That can’t be,” said Agent Wilkonson as he walked over to the window and peeked out.

  “Get away from that window,” Sokolov shouted.