by ML Gardner
He closed the bag and handed it to me. It was heavy and I decided I wouldn’t stop by my room to grab my green bag. I’d look too bulky and attract attention.
“Thanks, Digby. Any advice?”
“What…from me?”
“Yeah, this is my first delivery. Anything important I should know?”
He thought for a moment and then drew himself up, leaning close to me.
“Just be quick. Watch your surroundings. If you see anything suspicious, don’t stop. It’s better to reschedule than to get killed. Make the exchange quick. No small talk, just business and watch your back on the way home.”
“Got it. See you when I get back.” I left with a wave and he seemed to have grown a few inches for being asked his advice.
I walked out the side door of the warehouse under the dim light of the moon straining through the water logged clouds.
***
I stood under the streetlight. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. Every fiber of my being was on alert. It was ten after two and I was alone. So far Mickey’s new client hadn’t shown up. I wondered how long I should wait and regretted not asking Mickey or Digby that question. I’d give it five more minutes, provided I didn’t see any police or stalkers.
I heard a cat yowl in the distance and it echoed through the empty streets. A cloud moved to block the last of the moonlight and it began to mist, light and cold. I also regretted not wearing a heavier coat. Digby could have deliveries. I didn’t want any more of this.
I hoisted the bag more securely on my shoulder and turned, only to run smack into Dmitri. My nose to his enormous shoulder.
“We meet again,” he said, tossing his cigarette aside.
“Dmitri. What are you doing here? You’re not Mickey’s new client…?” I trailed off with my confused question.
A smile spread slowly across his broad mouth until all his teeth showed. Then in a flash he raised his fist and the last thing I remember is the butt of his pistol cracking my skull.
***
I woke up on a concrete floor bathed in a flood of sunlight. My head throbbed and my body had begun withdrawals in my sleep. I opened my eyes wracked in pain and ravenous. And confused as to why Dmitri had done this in the first place. He had to know it would start a war.
I moved to push myself up and found that my hands were tied. A sense of dread washed over me. This wasn’t good. Mickey had no idea where I was. In fact…in fact, I realized in a panic, he’s probably thinking that I took off with the drugs or the money. He’d have no idea to look for me here. No idea that Dmitri had me.
I nearly vomited when it dawned on me that there was no way Dmitri could let me go knowing I’d go back to Mickey and tell him what happened. Dmitri wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t about to start a war. Which meant he’d have to kill me and it would simply look like I disappeared with Mickey’s stuff.
I looked up as someone threw the bolt on the door and began scooting away as if that offered any kind of protection.
I didn’t recognize him. He introduced himself as Ivan, Dmitri’s assistant. He held out a glass of water. While I didn’t fall for the gracious host act, I took the water and drained the cup.
“What does Dmitri want with me?” I asked in a gasp after I finished.
“You were the one to arrange Yurik’s overthrow, no?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I remembered you. How are things at Mickey’s?”
“Fine.”
“Business is good?”
“Why?”
“Dmitri will be in to talk to you soon. He’s just getting up.”
“What time is it?”
“Five p.m.”
I dropped my head and let out a desperate sigh, wondering what Mickey must be thinking right now.
“After he talks to me is he going to let me go?”
Ivan smiled. That same slow sinister smile.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
He took the cup from my bound hands and left the room. I leaned over and lay on the floor again, suddenly very tired.
***
It was an hour before Dmitri came. When he walked in he was all business. He brought a chair for himself and spun it around before sitting on it backwards. I had a flash then, almost a memory. De ja vu, possibly? A small white kitchen…a nearly empty whiskey bottle and…I squinted my eyes to better see the memory. There was a man sitting at the table. It felt like I knew him. Like I cared about him. Only his dark hair was visible as he rested his head on his bent arm. Slowly he lifted his head.
“John. That’s what they call you?” Dimitri demanded.
“Yes. What’s this about, Dmitri? I thought you agreed to a lifelong truce.”
Again, the smile. “Well, some lives are longer than others, are they not?”
“What does that mean?”
“I come to you with the same proposition you offered me.”
My eyes widened. “You mean…?”
“Help me overthrow Mickey. I’ll take control of his business, people and territory. And you…you, John will be rewarded very well. You’ll live like a king here with me. I’ll even let you keep your girl.”
I shook my head. “No. I won’t do it.”
“I understand you are loyal. As I was to Yurik. We are all loyal until a situation presents itself that is too tempting to pass.”
It wasn’t just a sense of loyalty to Mickey, but the overwhelming feeling that this was wrong. I had witnessed a hostile takeover. And knowing that I had arranged it made it worse…living with that knowledge, remembering washing Yurik’s brains out of my shirt nearly made me sick all over again. And yet suddenly, it all made sense and I made peace with what was about to happen.
“I cannot convince you?”
“No.”
“Well, I cannot let you go. You must know this. I cannot have you run back to Mickey telling him that I propositioned you to overthrow him.”
I raised my head and looked at him. “You’ll have to kill me.”
He looked surprised by this and tilted his head. “So ready to die to protect Mickey? I’m impressed. I wish I knew that my men were this loyal.”
“I’m not ready to die for him. But I know you won’t let me walk out of here alive.”
“You won’t even try to negotiate with me? Promise me that if I let you go right now you’ll never say a word to Mickey?”
“I wouldn’t insult either of us by proposing that. What do you want me to do, Dmitri? Beg you to kill me? We both know how this ends so just get it over with.”
He chewed on his lip while watching me, deliberating.
“No. Not yet. I still think I can convince you.”
“I’m not ever doing anything like that again. Overthrowing Mickey is not an option. So it’s either let me go and settle this incident over drinks and cards with Mickey as previously agreed, or kill me.”
Dmitri chuckled. “The one on the floor with his hands tied and blood on his brow is telling me how it’s going to be?” He studied me again. “I like you. There’s nothing I can offer to make you consider coming to work for me?”
“No.”
He nodded patiently, understanding. “Alright. I’ll be back to talk to you soon.” While staring at me, he barked for Ivan. The doorway darkened as Ivan appeared and that sick feeling ripped through my stomach again.
“If you want to make him stop, all you have to say is that you’ll arrange it,” Dmitri said as he rose from the chair.
“Make him stop what?”
He laughed as he turned and walked away.
Sloan held his glass mid-air in anticipation. His eyebrows were high and his mouth slack. “What did he do?”
Aryl finished his drink and set the glass down with a fierce grip. “He kicked the shit out of me.” He finally looked up at Sloan. “For an hour. Until he couldn’t raise his arms anymore.”
“He tried to beat you until you agreed?”
Aryl nodded slowl
y and let his eyes settle on the empty bottle of whiskey.
“Did you?”
“No. He broke my nose, cracked my ribs, kicked me all over that concrete floor. But I never agreed.”
“That’s a level of loyalty I’ve never seen before.”
Aryl looked up suddenly. “It had nothing to do with loyalty to Mickey. It was the last shred of human decency I had. I didn’t kill Yurik but I might as well have. His blood was on my hands. Literally.” He rolled his head around in frustration, as if searching for the words that would make Sloan comprehend. “I had become this…horrible person. Living a horrible life. I hated it but I didn’t remember anything different. I was scared to stay and scared to leave. I figured this was a way out. To be free of the monster. Permanently.”
“So, you knew he was going to kill you? And you were okay with that?”
“Yes. And, I might as well do something good with my last moments. Maybe…redeem a small piece of my soul.”
Sloan’s mouth hung open for a moment. “Wow,” he said finally. After absorbing everything Aryl had just said, he took a deep breath.
“Well, he didn’t kill you. And you didn’t overthrow Mickey. So how did you get out of that one?”
“For that I’m going to need a lot more to drink.”
“I’ll go this time,” Sloan offered. He stopped at the lounge door, glancing back at Aryl with a look of utter astonishment at what he’d been through.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ready and Waiting
On the third day, Dmitri came to see me again. They hadn’t fed me and had given me only a little water. I lay on the floor and the lack of opiates had me desperately wishing, yet again, that I would die. I regretted Ivan tiring out and not finishing the job. The swelling in my eyes had gone down enough to where I could at least see who was coming in the room.
He sat down, backward in a chair again. “You still will not agree?”
I shook my head.
“You are in pain?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like something for the pain?”
“Before Ivan comes in here and kills me? Sure. Why not.”
Dmitri nodded to a smaller man who looked as if he acted as a gopher. He spoke in Russian before the smaller man nodded and scurried off.
“He is not going to kill you. Yet.”
“Why wait?”
“If you won’t agree to overthrow Mickey, there must be some use we can get out of you.”
“Such as?”
“Where does he keep his inventory and weapons?”
“I don’t think so, Dmitri.”
“How many men does he have in his operation?”
“Nope.”
“What are the names of his bodyguards?”
“Ivan can come in here and kick me all over the floor again. But I’m not telling you anything.”
The little gopher came back with an amber bottle, probably from the bag I was carrying and held it out to me. I struggled to get the top off, my hands were so swollen, but managed. The relief was almost instantaneous.
“Let me ask you this. If you are not willing to accept my proposal, is there anyone in Mickey’s ranks who would be? Someone disgruntled, perhaps? Wouldn’t mind seeing a regime change?”
“Nope. We’re all one big happy family over there.”
He stared at me with a hint of anger. “Ivan!”
I set the bottle down carefully and struggled to stand.
“Are you telling me that you’d rather spend some more time with Ivan than tell me these small details?”
“Yes.”
Ivan stepped inside the room and seemed to hesitate. “It might kill him this time.” He spoke to Dmitri but I was the one who shrugged.
“So be it,” I said calmly.
Ivan raised his fist and Dmitri yelled his name. “Not right now. Let him think about it for awhile.” Ivan stepped back.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised me.
After the door closed I slid to the floor, weak kneed and exhausted, and I prayed. Not for escape or specifically to live or die. Not even for strength to endure Ivan when he came back. I simply listed off and apologized for everything for which I was truly sorry. All I could do was hope that it was enough.
It was the middle of the night when I heard the bolt on the door again. I sat up to meet my fate. Whoever was on the other side was being slow and quiet about it. Finally the door opened a crack and light flooded the room. It was Dmitri’s little gopher man.
“Psst! Hey, you! You leave now. You get away while you can!” And then he scurried off, leaving the door wide open. Ready as I was to die, survival instincts kicked in and I bolted for the door, tied hands and all. Once I made it onto the street, I ran like hell. All the way back to the warehouse.
Sloan leaned forward in his chair. Besides being engrossed in Aryl’s story he was quite drunk and decided it was time to quit for the night if he were going to recall any of this in the morning. Aryl, slumped to the side and having a hard time staying awake, needing to concentrate very deeply to keep the words coming.
“Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”
Aryl nodded and let Sloan help him up. He swooned and thought it funny. Sloan kept a good grip on his arm as they weaved their way back to their room.
“What did Mickey say when you got back?”
Aryl fell into the chair, pushing food dishes to the center of the table and flashed a belligerent smile. “That bastard.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Betrayed
I ran up to the door gasping and ready to throw up from the pain. I didn’t let my broken ribs stop me from running but they slowed me down. After a moment of banging on the metal door someone opened it, gun raised and nervous. It was the no name bartender. What the hell was he doing on door duty?
“Help me,” I said to him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me in. Feeling safe brought on a sense of exhaustion and by the time I got to Mickey’s door I was ready to collapse. His guards stepped aside and the bartender went in ahead of me.
“We got a problem, boss,” he said. Mickey turned to see me standing in the doorway. I can only imagine what I must have looked like. Bloody and bruised with torn clothes…a mess. Mickey was looking at my sorry state but I was staring at the man who sat across from Mickey with a drink and a smoke.
Dmitri.
I backed up to leave but the bartender had already closed the door.
Before I could ask what Dmitri was doing there, Mickey started laughing.
“You weren’t exaggerating! Ivan did a number on him!”
Dmitri turned and gave me a casual nod, as if nothing had happened.
“So he told you what he did to me?” I asked.
“Yes, he told me.” From behind his desk he held up the bag I’d carried to the non-existent new client. “All of it’s accounted for. Except what they gave you for pain. And that’s okay,” he assured me.
“And what are you going to do about it?”
Mickey sat back and smiled. “Nothing, Johnny boy.”
“Wh-why not? Look what they did to me!”
He rose slowly and walked over to me with a look of sympathy. I don’t know why I expected protection from Mickey, except for the fact that this was how he kept people here. Their loyalty for his protection.
He pat my blood smeared cheek gently. “I asked Dmitri to do this, Johnny boy. I ask him to test your loyalty.”
After staring at him for a long disbelieving moment, I shoved his hand away. “You what?”
“I know now, Johnny boy, that I can trust you. Completely. With my life, even.”
“You did this to make sure you could trust me?! After all this time?”
“I need to start sending you with Digby.” He stepped away, returning to an all-business tone. “He’s going to be transporting thousands of dollars of product and I need you to go with him and ensure everything goes as planned. I think this could become a regular client, and if i
t does, my business will grow tenfold.”
I was at a loss for words. I wanted to scream, yell and curse. But I didn’t. I lacked the energy and the will. I stood staring at him while he rambled on for a few more minutes about building an empire and bringing me straight to the top with him. After he was done with his insincerities, I excused myself to my room. It was a long slow walk.
Gina stood at her closet, arranging things. She gasped when she saw me.
“What happened to you!” She dropped the clothing in her hand and took a few running steps toward me. Just as she threw her arms up to hug me, I pushed them away.
She blinked owlishly. “John, why?”
“Did you know?”
“Did I know what?”
“What Mickey did to me?”
She shook her head, wide eyed. “No one knew where you were, John. Mickey sent men out to look for you. I was worried sick. Who hurt you? And where have you been?”
I shot her a hard glare as I walked past her. “With the Russians.”
She followed me to my room.
“Why were you with the Russians, John?”
“Oh, don’t play stupid, Gina. I know Mickey tells you everything. Now get out. I’m going to sleep.”
“John, I didn’t know anything about this! Honest! How did you get to be in the hands of the Russians?”
I ignored her, pulling my shirt over my head, moving as little as possible.
“Let me get something to clean you up,” Gina said.
“I don’t want your help.”
“John, don’t be cross wi’ me. I didn’t do anything. I’m trying to take care of you.”
I waved my hand, not caring if she came, went or walked off a cliff. I didn’t trust a living soul now. Including myself and especially her.