by J A Whiting
“I said stop, you idiot!”
The hands came off Olivia’s throat and she gulped air into her lungs with a horrible wheezing noise. Her hands, bloody from breaking the mirror, clutched at her neck, smearing blood all over her skin.
“Get up,” Shark Eyes ordered.
She rolled onto her knees and attempted to stand. Scar-Face grabbed her under her arm and hoisted her to her feet. She bent at the waist, still trying to suck more air.
“Go get cleaned up, you fool,” Shark Eyes sneered at Scar-face. “You don’t decide when she dies.”
Shark Eyes dragged Olivia back to the room and pushed her into one of the chairs, where she continued to wheeze and gasp.
***
Brad couldn’t stand it anymore. He punched Joe’s number into his cell and listened to it ring…and ring. Joe’s voice mail message came on. Brad hit the counter with his hand. Where is he? Now what? Brad tried to remember if Joe had taken his phone with him when they parted ways earlier. He was sure Joe had it in his pocket when he left him. Why doesn’t he answer? Everyone carries a phone but no one can pick the hell up. Brad looked around the room. Some of the patrons had left and the band was wrapping up with its last song. Brad had been looking forward to hosting this event but now he was counting the seconds until it was over.
***
Siderov burst into the room, banging the door against the wall. He glared at Olivia. She had managed to catch her breath, but her throat was tight and constricted. Her right hand was bleeding freely from the shards of the mirror and she had wrapped the bottom of her shirt around it. Her neck was smeared with blood and her shirt and pants had patches of blood on them. Siderov’s eyes shot daggers at each of the men in turn.
Scar-face, who had attempted to strangle Olivia, entered the room from the other door. Siderov gave him an icy stare.
“Get out,” Siderov hissed. The man backed out and closed the door.
“Get Alexei down here,” Siderov barked to no one in particular.
He wheeled on the greasy-haired man and ordered, “Bring in the woman.”
In a matter of minutes, the greasy-haired man was dragging a woman into the room. It was the same woman who had been at Martin Andersen’s house when Olivia was tricked into going there. Olivia recognized her as the woman who had tried to run from the van the night she was washing her paintbrushes in the shop’s sink.
The woman was pushed into the chair next to Olivia and sat slumped there with her left hand resting in her lap. The hand was wrapped in gauze and blood was seeping through the bandages. Siderov moved closer to the two women.
“One of you has two items of mine,” Siderov said. “Things I want returned. And the other of you has information that I require.”
The woman remained slumped and silent.
Olivia said, “What makes you think we have what you want?”
“Unless you are relaying the whereabouts of the objects, then keep your mouth shut,” Siderov told Olivia. He cleared his throat. “As I said, one of you has objects that belong to me.” He glared at Olivia. “I want them back.”
“What are they?” Olivia asked.
Siderov smacked Olivia across the face, nearly knocking her out of her chair. The woman lifted her eyes to peer at Olivia without moving her head.
“We will be back in fifteen minutes. Both of you better have the answers I desire.” Siderov gave them each a look of menace. “Or things will become unpleasant.”
He turned his face to the other woman. “More unpleasant than losing an appendage.” He stormed out of the room with his two goons trotting after him. Olivia and the woman were alone, but Olivia suspected they were being watched.
“Are you okay?” Olivia whispered. The woman made an almost imperceptible nod.
“I’m Olivia,” she said. There was no response.
“What’s your name?” Olivia asked. The woman shook her head.
“Look, they’ll be back soon. Please talk to me,” Olivia told her. “I need to figure out what to do.”
The woman raised her head. Her eyes were empty. “Do? What can you possibly do? We’re already dead.”
Olivia whispered, “I’m not going to believe that. Do you know what Siderov thinks I have?” Olivia asked. “What he wants back?”
The woman shook her head. Olivia didn’t know whether or not to believe her and she wanted to ask more questions, but decided what Siderov was looking for probably wasn’t going to assist them in escaping.
“You can’t give up. There are two of us. I’ll think of something,” Olivia said. “Can you tell me what you know about them…this place?”
“I don’t know anything,” the woman said.
Olivia glanced at the door. “We’re running out of time. I need to think…make a plan.”
The woman said, “We are out of time.”
“We can’t just give up and die here.”
“I’m already dead,” the woman said. She made eye contact with Olivia. Her face was ashen.
Olivia looked at the woman’s hand. “What happened to you?”
The woman lifted her hand from her lap and turned her blank eyes to Olivia. “They cut off my ring finger.”
Bile rose in Olivia’s throat. The finger on the dining table at the Sullivan’s. “Why?” she asked softly.
The woman snorted. “They want my husband. They cut my finger off to bring to him. So he could see it. My wedding ring. My finger. To prove they have me here.” Her shoulders slumped and she looked down.
“My God,” Olivia breathed. She swallowed. “You’re Liz Sullivan. Mike’s wife.”
Liz’s face crumpled. She closed her eyes and nodded.
“They want my husband. They’re going to punish him.”
“Why?” Olivia questioned.
“He came to do some work here the other day. He called me from his car. He was running away. He saw something here. They shot him in the shoulder. But he got to his truck. He told me to hide.”
Olivia’s heart sank into her stomach and ice flowed through her veins.
Liz went on, “They said…,” her face contorted, “they’re going to kill our son. If I don’t tell them where Mike is.” Tears poured from her eyes. “They have our son here.” She choked on the words.
“Mikey?” Olivia said.
Liz’s eyes bored into Olivia.
“Mikey’s not here. I saw Mikey.” Olivia lowered her voice. “He’s with your sister now. I saw your husband, too. He’s hurt but he’s alive. He’s in the hospital. The police are watching out for them. They’re safe.”
Liz tilted her head, considering. “What?”
“It’s true. My friends and I found them. Well, it was more like Mikey found us. But they’re okay. They’re safe.”
Liz stared at Olivia. “They told you to tell me this. To get me on your side. To trick me.”
“No, Liz. They’re okay. I’m not trying to trick you.”
“I don’t believe you,” Liz whispered.
The door banged open. Alexei strode in with a Doberman Pinscher on a leash. The dog lunged at the women, yanking against the leash, and it snapped the air, gnashing its teeth. Alexei ordered the dog to sit.
“You have my father’s property,” he said to Olivia. “And you,” he said to Liz, “you need to tell us where to locate your husband.”
Olivia and Liz stared at him.
“The dog can be very persuasive,” Alexei said.
A light went off in Olivia’s head. She turned to Liz and looked her in the eye while telling Alexei, “Don’t call him ‘the dog’. Dogs are particular about what they like to be called. Especially, Lassie. Right, Liz?”
Liz looked confused but after a few seconds her eyes widened and the corners of her mouth twitched up. Her lower lip was trembling and she bit it to keep from crying. Mikey. Mikey said those very words about Lassie all the time. Olivia had met Mikey. Mikey was safe.
“What did you say?” Alexei questioned Olivia.
Olivia’
s lip turned up in a sneer. “I said the dog is particular.”
Alexei wasn’t sure what she meant and his face turned stony. He brought the dog closer to the women and allowed it to bark and snap at them. Olivia jumped out of her chair and stood behind it.
“Get out of here, Alexei.”
Snarling and growling, the dog leaped at Liz. It smacked against the chair and knocked her to the ground. Olivia lifted her chair and pushed it at the dog to get him away from Liz. The dog lunged at Olivia with such force that the strain on the leash nearly knocked Alexei off his feet. The Doberman clenched onto Olivia’s arm and she screamed and kicked, falling backwards. Liz jumped from the floor but was at a loss for what to do and stood there gaping, cradling her bandaged hand. Alexei had to pull on the leash with all of his strength to move the dog back.
“You bastard,” Olivia hissed, clutching her arm.
Siderov and two of his men burst into the room.
Fury blazed in Siderov’s eyes as he boomed at Alexei, “Who gave you permission to enter this room?” He barked orders in Russian and Alexei and the dog retreated to the far wall.
Liz hooked her good hand under Olivia’s arm and helped her to her feet.
“Sit!” Siderov screamed at the women. “Tie them to the chairs,” he barked at the men, who rushed forward and roped Olivia and Liz to their seats.
Olivia assumed that things weren’t going according to Siderov’s plan and that he seemed like a man who did not like to appear to be losing control of a situation. She knew he was going to take it out on them.
***
“They seem nervous,” Liz whispered to Olivia. “They haven’t seemed so …disorganized.”
Olivia nodded in acknowledgement. She was glad to hear that something might have them on edge. On the other hand, she worried that it might make them careless…or desperate.
“Shut up,” Siderov spat. Sweat beaded up on his brow as he advanced on the women. “I’m running out of time. Who wants to tell me the things I need to know?”
Olivia and Liz were silent.
Siderov waited a full minute. He took a deep breath. “Then it appears it is time for some encouragement.” He wheeled around, strode to the chairs along the wall and sat.
“Ms. Miller,” Siderov said in a calm voice. “I thought your arrogance would interfere with your ability to be forthcoming with me, and I was correct.”
Olivia looked at him with hate filled eyes.
“So I took out some insurance.”
Olivia’s heart beat fast.
“Your old man friend is a guest here as well.”
Her heart jumped into her throat.
Siderov let his words hang in the air before he continued. “I am going to make what’s left of his life very uncomfortable. Unless you give me the information I have requested.”
“You can have that damn necklace. I don’t know what else you want. I don’t know anything.” Olivia’s voice was shrill.
“Then you will have the opportunity to see your friend,” Siderov sneered. “I will deliver him to you in pieces.”
Olivia wildly strained and rocked in the chair, trying to free herself. “Shut up! Shut up, you bastard!” she yelled. “Joe!”
“As time is of the essence, encouragement will also be issued in this room,” Siderov continued. “Whoever tells me what I want to know is the winner. The loser…well, the winner gets to see what would have happened if she lost.” He stood. “Go get the instruments,” Siderov ordered.
The greasy-haired man hurried out of the room.
“And you,” Siderov said to Shark Eyes, “begin on the old man.”
“No!” Olivia shrieked, tears spilling from her eyes.
Shark Eyes strode away through the door.
Siderov directed his comment at Liz. “And you, Mrs. Sullivan, it’s time to lose another of your parts.”
Liz shrank in her seat.
Siderov smiled sickeningly and stood.
“Alexei,” he said. “I hope you’re paying attention. Since you can’t do anything right, maybe you’ll learn something. Let’s have some fun while we wait for the instruments.”
Olivia looked to Alexei and their eyes met. She shook her head slightly, tears streaming down her face. He turned away.
Siderov pulled out a switchblade from inside his jacket and approached Olivia. Liz watched in horror. Siderov glared at Olivia, then reached behind and slit the ropes that bound her to the chair.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
Olivia rose from the chair.
“So much like your foolish aunt,” he sneered.
Olivia’s blood boiled with a blinding rage and she spat into Siderov’s face. Siderov’s cheeks flared red. He punched Olivia in the stomach and she doubled over, a blast of pain exploding through her core.
Siderov snapped his fingers in the air. “Alexei, let’s see what your stupid dog can do.” He gestured to Olivia and took several steps back.
Alexei’s face was grim and he stood stock still. He said, bitterly, “Yes, Father, let’s see.” He leaned down and held his hand in front of the dog’s face, said something to it, and pointed with his arm outstretched…at his father.
The dog shot off its haunches like a missile straight at Siderov, clamped onto the stocky man’s neck, and brought him to the floor. Siderov’s screams caught in his throat.
Olivia stumbled backwards out of the way. Alexei watched blankly for several seconds as the dog worked on his father.
Olivia pulled the mirror shard from her back pocket and bent to saw at the ropes binding Liz. Alexei strode across the room and Olivia stood quickly to threaten him with the shard. Alexei ignored Olivia as he bent and scooped up Liz, chair and all, and rushed toward the door. “Hurry,” he urged.
They crossed the room and Olivia reached for the handle, intending to swing the door open for them. “Alexei, where are they holding Joe?”
A blast thundered through the concrete room as a bullet discharged from Siderov’s weapon and plunged into Alexei’s back. Liz’s screams pierced the air. Alexei jerked, stumbled, and slumped to the floor still holding Liz and the chair, his eyes wide and questioning.
“Alexei!” Olivia cried. She clutched at his arm as he slid over onto his side, the gun’s report still echoing off the walls.
Alexei’s eyes were fixed and empty. Olivia knelt beside him, and looked over her shoulder to locate Siderov. The Doberman was lying still on the floor in a pool of blood.
Siderov, blood streaming from the puncture wounds the dog had inflicted on his neck, lumbered towards Olivia, his eyes glassy as he leveled the gun at her. He pulled the trigger.
There was no time to move or to think. Olivia waited for the bullet.
The gun clicked.
Siderov flung the weapon to the floor and continued his advance.
Olivia, shaking, rose to meet him. “Monster,” she choked. “You shot your own son.”
Siderov took the final two steps to Olivia. His eyes were like black holes. His breath was ragged.
His right hand came up to strike Olivia and as she raised her left arm to block him, Siderov’s other hand plunged his switchblade into Olivia’s stomach.
She gagged. She pressed her left hand against her abdomen, her eyes wide, disbelieving.
Siderov smiled triumphantly, blood and sweat glistening on his skin.
Siderov wheezed, “I …decide…who dies.”
Hate and fury hardened Olivia’s face. “No. You. Don’t,” she said through gritted teeth. She gathered all that was left inside her, straightened, and with a swift, forceful motion of her right hand, Olivia lashed the mirror shard across Siderov’s neck and cut his throat.
He stumbled back. He swayed. He fell to his knees and wobbled for a moment before falling headfirst to the cement floor. Blood pumped from the gash as his life drained away.
Olivia dropped the shard and clutched her bloody stomach with both hands. She slid in slow motion to the floor.
***
Olivia! Olivia!” Liz screamed, craning her neck to see what had happened. Liz was still strapped into her chair, lying backwards on the floor next to Alexei’s body. Olivia opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Her hearing was muffled. The lights above her seemed to alternately brighten and fade.
One of Siderov’s thugs ran up to the door, looked at the carnage and raced across the room to the opposite side and out into the bunker room.
Olivia’s body tingled. Blood soaked through her shirt and dripped onto the floor. She started to shiver and her eyelids shut. Joe. Where’s Joe? Her lips moved but no sound came out.
Running feet could be heard in the hallway and four men rushed into the room. The police officer tended to Liz, the detective checked Siderov and Alexei. Two men knelt beside Olivia. One touched her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at their faces. Joe! Brad! She blinked.
“Joe, Joe,” she murmured. Siderov lied. Joe wasn’t his prisoner. She reached for his hand. “You’re…all right.”
He nodded, his cheeks wet with tears streaming from his eyes.
Brad knelt beside her and stroked her hair. “Here comes the cavalry,” he whispered to her.
Olivia swallowed. “Your timing’s…a bit…off,” she told him. Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
“We’ll have to work on that,” Brad said.
Olivia’s eyelids were so heavy, she let them close. She coughed and her breath came in wheezes.
“Olivia Suzanne Miller,” Joe said gruffly, choking on his fears. “You stay here. Don’t be going anywhere. Help’s coming. Don’t…don’t you dare leave me.”
Olivia opened her eyes into slits. “I’m…not going…anywhere,” she mumbled, huffing. “You’re…stuck…with me.”
Olivia moved her head slightly, trying to see Brad’s face. It seemed to float above her, in focus one second and out of focus the next. She blinked and squinted, but the effort it took drained all of her remaining energy. She tried to speak to him but her lips only trembled and just a wisp of air puffed out of her lungs and her words remained unformed. She was fading into herself. Stay with me, Brad. Don’t let me go.