by Lee Winter
“A farewell gift I got,” Sonja explained. “They’re down a few cops now.”
Alison paled. “You killed cops?”
“Maybe.” Sonja shot her a glare and then looked at Natalya. “Why is she here? Again? With you?”
“This is my raid,” Alison said. “I’m a detective.”
Sonja’s laugh was brittle. “Fuck.” She winced again. “Did you know that?” She looked at Natalya.
“Yes.”
Sonja gave her a mutinous look. “Then you’re a fucking traitor.”
“Lola doesn’t deserve my loyalty. Or yours.”
Sonja stared at her in confusion then winced again, clutching her stomach. Instantly her fingers were coated in blood.
“Hey,” Alison said, “you’re a mess. We need to get you to a hospital.”
“Fuck off,” Sonja said. “Your cop mates will kill me on sight. They’re just mad I showed up how bad they are at catching one little girl. I led them on crazy chase. Bled all over half the alleys on the far side. They’re chasing their own tails now.”
“They’ll get here soon enough,” Alison said. “Come on, let me help. I can make sure they don’t hurt you.”
Sonja ignored her and her eyes flicked to Natalya.
“Do you love her? That’s it? That’s why you sell us all out? For some pussy cop? Or cop pussy?”
“I don’t love,” Natalya said quietly. “You know that. I’ve told you that. And anyone who has any sense at all knows to stay the hell away from me.” Her gaze drifted to Alison’s. Message clear.
“So I have no sense,” Sonja laughed bitterly. She groaned again.
“We have to call an ambulance,” Alison said, rising. “If it gets here in time…”
“It won’t,” Natalya said softly. She pointed to the amount of blood pooling on the ground under Sonja.
Alison started. Oh hell.
“So this it?” Sonja asked, eyes begging for the truth.
“Yes. This time it’s over, Sonja.”
Sonja exhaled and nodded. She flicked her eyes to Alison. “You’re one lucky bitch.”
“This isn’t anything to do with her,” Natalya said firmly. “It never was.”
“No lies,” Sonja protested.
“I have never lied to you. I don’t love. It’s a wasted emotion on me.”
“Fuck,” Sonja whispered. “Fuck me, this hurts so bad.”
Alison wasn’t entirely sure whether she was talking about her heart or her bloodied side.
“I know,” Natalya said. She reached up to the other assassin’s face and stroked it with two gloved fingers. “You’ve been strong; I’m proud of you. It’ll be over soon.”
“Make sure you tell them I almost killed you,” Sonja said weakly. “You tell them that. I went down protecting that Lola bitch and I almost took you with me.”
“I will.”
“You’re still a liar, Natalya Tsvetnenko. A big liar. I can see your soul from here.”
“Hmm.” Natalya gave a half-hearted disagreeing grumble.
“Natalya?” Sonja whispered, her face rapidly losing colour.
“Yes?”
“Call me Nabi now?”
“Close your eyes, little Nabi.”
The distinct whumping of a helicopter sounded somewhere overhead, and a police siren began to get closer. Natalya didn’t so much as flinch, her entire being focused on Sonja.
Sonja kept her eyes open, locking them on the brown ones hovering above her. “You’re beautiful and you walk around like the whole world owes you a living. You look at the rest of us like we’re nothing. You looked at me like that, that night. I hated you. From my whole heart. I hate that you can make me feel this way. I hate you. So, so much.”
“I know,” Natalya said gently, watching her with hooded eyes.
“And I love you.” Sonja’s eyes bored into her. “Always.”
“I know,” Natalya repeated and stroked the sweat-matted hair out of her eyes, watching her intently. She slid her other arm around her shoulders, holding her up. “Rest now, Nabi.”
Sonja’s breathing slowed, and finally stopped, her empty, brown eyes staring up into Natalya’s. It was the moment the second-most lethal assassin in Australia died, cradled in the arms of the nation’s deadliest.
Tear tracks were streaked down Sonja’s dusty cheeks.
Natalya eased Sonja’s body to the ground and sat back on her haunches and then stood.
“I have to go.”
Alison observed the switch in personality. Like a light going off. “Just like that?” She squatted and checked Kim’s pulse, just to be sure. She shifted and did the same to Lola, before rising.
“I don’t think it would be believable for me to be accidentally found twice in the company of a crime family boss. One of your colleagues might get certain ideas and arrest me. Unless…” she slid her eyes over Alison and arched an eyebrow, “you plan to?”
“That depends. Why are you in Melbourne and not on tour?”
“And miss the downfall of the great Lola Sweetman? Why do you think I picked the date I did? I’m between engagements. I’ve just finished depping for the London Philharmonic for the past two months and I’m booked to fly to Prague this afternoon. Moscow’s Symphony Orchestra wants me to start there tomorrow.”
“So you’re not resuming old habits?”
“I have no inclinations to do so. It’s like no longer drinking coffee. Truthfully, I’m not entirely sure it agrees with me anymore.”
Alison studied the sincerity on her face and exhaled. “Then no, I don’t plan to arrest you. This time.” Her eyes came to rest on Lola and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, by the way,” she said and nodded at her.
“You live in her world…this happens.”
“Even so. She was someone you cared about.”
“It’s complicated,” Natalya said. “She betrayed me. She tried to take away my talent to punish me. She wanted to shoot me…” She lifted her hands then shook her head. “To destroy my music.”
“Oh my god!” Alison looked at her in horror. “How could she? Your hands are who you are!”
Natalya didn’t respond, her eyes closing for a few beats, but Alison could see the agreement there.
“That’s not love,” Alison added softly.
“No.” Natalya looked disturbed. “Lola doesn’t do love, either—unless it’s love for herself.” She shifted uncomfortably.
“About what she said,” Natalya muttered, “Lola was trying to get under your skin. It’s a skill. She tests you like a predator seeking weaknesses in a fence. She batters away until she hits her mark. But she was wrong. I wasn’t lying to Sonja.”
“Yeah.” Alison’s heart died a little. Of course she knew. Intellectually. Besides, it was madness to harbour any other thoughts: a killer and her target? It was a bad punchline. And given what she had planned in under an hour’s time at the press conference, Natalya was right. It was for the best.
“You’re different,” Natalya suddenly said. “More confidence. It suits you. You needed it.”
“And you needed compassion. You showed that to Sonja today.”
“Not that it mattered.”
“It did.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Layer my actions with extra meaning. Don’t be like Sonja. You know who I really am. See how it ends, caring for me?” She gestured at Sonja.
Their gazes locked.
“And now you have to go,” Alison said.
Natalya didn’t say anything, but her eyes tracked their surroundings, as though mapping possible escape options. She picked up the wire she’d used on Lola and wiped it clean, dropping it next to her body. She looked pointedly at Alison. The message was clear: if anyone asked about the marks at Lola’s neck, blame Sonja.
Alison nodded. She studied the assassin. About to run. Alison wondered if she’d ever see her again.
“Please, for the love of God, Natalya, no more bodies. Can you do that?
”
Natalya didn’t answer, because clearly it would be too easy to put Alison’s mind at rest. Her gaze returned to Alison’s and she smiled, the slow-curling genuine one the public never got to see.
Alison was taken aback. How could she be this beautiful and yet so damned dangerous? Her stomach did a pleasant flop and she wanted to bang her head against a wall. It was painful how much she felt for a woman like this. She’d thought their time apart would have deadened any residue of emotion, especially now she had all the facts.
It hadn’t.
She tried to look away but instead she was pulled into brown eyes that studied her far too intently. Alison desperately tried to pull on her professional mask.
She must have failed.
“Oh,” was all Natalya said at what Alison was trying so hard to hide.
Alison’s cheeks flamed. She stepped back and growled. “Get out of here before I arrest your ass,” she grumbled, folding her arms.
Natalya gave an amused snort and then pivoted away, the dirt crunching beneath her feet.
Footsteps could be heard at the other end of the twisting alley and Alison waited for Natalya to make her escape before turning towards the sounds.
“Over here!” she called out. “Two suspects. Both deceased.”
Detective Polaski rounded a bend and puffed into view. “Finally,” he grunted. He leaned over, hands on his knees, and panted to catch his breath.
“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. “I called for backup fifteen minutes ago!”
“We, ah, thought you said Bailey’s Lane—that’s six blocks over on the other side.” He pointed in the opposite direction and reached for his radio and called in their location. Then he stared at the scene before him.
“Holy fuck. Is that Sweetman and her bitch enforcer? That wiry little shit shot up two of the elite SOG.”
“That’s them,” Alison agreed.
“What happened here?” he asked.
“No idea. This is what I found. They obviously had some sort of disagreement. So…will the cops live?”
“They’re fine. Their egos are a bit battered. Like mine.”
“Huh?”
He shifted from foot to foot then checked behind him. Satisfied he was alone, he said: “Ah, shit, look, we’re not like him. Moore. I know what you must think of us and, hell, yeah, okay, fair call. I swear we didn’t know what he was like. We all had you pinned as some crappy, wannabe detective who only got the job because you were Moore’s sister-in-law. He told us that’s what the score was and we believed him.”
“Right,” Alison said. “Well, he’s gone now. Does that mean your asshole attitudes have too?”
Polaski tried to look indignant but then gave her a snort. “Yeah, okay, I deserve that. Turns out we were fed wrong intel by someone we trusted, so we may have fucked up a bit concerning you. Not gonna happen again.”
A bit? He thought he and his colleagues sneering at and excluding her for three straight years was just a “bit” of a fuck-up? And he thought it was fine for the whole team to act that way as long as his boss said it was okay? Her shock was then completely overshadowed by his next comment.
“So, anyway, wanna beer later, when this is all wrapped up?”
Alison shoved her hands in her pocket as she considered the unexpected request. He seemed genuine and his ears were red with embarrassment over even asking.
“Me and the boys,” he added hastily. “I gotta wife ya know. And Moore said you didn’t ah…you know…swing that way anyway. Shit, this is coming out bad. Anyway, want a drink with the boys tonight? To celebrate? Because we arrested a dozen or so Fleet assholes today. And hell if Homicide doesn’t look kick-ass for the first time in years. The boys and I aren’t stupid: we know we have you to thank.”
Alison debated her options. She’d seen what bearing a grudge had done to her mother. Frankly, the high road wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
“Okay. Yeah. But not beer. That stuff tastes like koala piss.”
Polaski grinned. “Sure, whatever you want.” He tilted his head and smirked. “You drink a lot of koala piss then?”
She laughed in spite of herself. The sound of thundering boots caught up with them and a number of elite squad officers fanned out around the area.
The commander of the unit stood to attention in front of Ryan and Polaski. “Were there any others?” he barked. “Or just these deceased persons?”
Alison shook her head. “Just these two.”
“I see an extra set of footprints,” he said, pointing to Natalya’s prints in the dirt. He eyed her questioningly.
“Yeah,” she said. “They were there before we got here. Old prints.”
“Okay,” he nodded and tapped his ear piece. “Area secure. We need two body bags.”
“Who are you, anyway?” he asked turning back to her.
“I’m Ryan, the head of GOU.”
“You’re the GOU boss?” the man asked, eyes widening in disbelief. He looked her up and down dismissively.
“Well deserved, too,” Polaski interjected. He gave the man a warning glare. “Your team brought down that crime family today thanks to Ryan’s work.”
“That so?” he asked, and his expression shifted a little. “Well done then, ma’am.”
“Thanks,” Alison said, then injected a sharpness into her voice. “And it’s Detective.”
* * *
The next day the Melbourne Herald Sun ran its first front page story on the gangland crime families in almost a year.
CRIME CLAN QUEEN, LETHAL LOLA, KILLED
By Police Reporter Martin Saxon
The best-kept secret in Victoria’s underworld gangs has been uncovered at last. The leader for the past twenty-four years of gun-running gang, Fleet Crew, has finally been revealed to be founder Dimitri Kozlowsky’s widow, Lola Gloria Sweetman.
The charismatic slain crime family matriarch, 59, has been dubbed Lethal Lola.
Sweetman was killed, possibly by her own associate, during a pre-dawn warehouse police raid yesterday, which netted thirteen Fleet Crew members. Sweetman’s bodyguard, Sonja Kim, also died, succumbing to gunshot wounds at the scene after attempting to escape police.
Sweetman was believed responsible for the hour-long kidnapping on Melbourne Cup day of Detective Alison Ryan, 34, and her 13-year-old niece, Hailey Moore.
As we reported last November, the renowned Victorian Philharmonic Orchestra cellist, Natalya Tsvetnenko, was hailed a hero for freeing them after stumbling across the crime scene and using what Hailey described as “epic martial arts moves”.
Tsvetnenko, 41, who is touring Europe with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, was unavailable for comment on the arrest.
Gunther Emil Muller, 39, co-accused in the kidnapping, was arrested at Flemington Racecourse on Melbourne Cup Day but died while in custody, stabbed by a fellow inmate.
Fleet Crew’s other members arrested during yesterday’s raid face various charges, mainly involving illegal weapons.
Victorian Premier Douglas Warren held a press conference yesterday announcing the raid a success and calling the arrests the biggest breakthrough of the Gangland Operations Unit (GOU) since it was set up. The unit is headed by Detective Ryan, the Homicide Squad’s most experienced Melbourne underworld expert.
“Detective Ryan has been building a case against these criminals for two-and-a-half years,” Premier Warren said. “Her work has been remarkable and we look forward to more arrests from her team in the efforts to eradicate this blight on our state’s reputation.”
Detective Ryan spoke at a press conference yesterday following the raid, revealing the GOU is also tracking an underworld female assassin known as Requiem.
Requiem has been dubbed across social media as the “karmic killer” due to the method of the victims’ deaths. Detective Ryan said the assassin would usually match her punishment to the victim’s crimes.
“Moonlight Society boss Ken Lee, who trafficked under-age
d girls from South-East Asia to brothels around Australia, was electrocuted via his genitals,” she said as an example.
“Jason Collins, a meth lab cook linked to the High Street gang, died from fumes after his protective coveralls were perforated a thousand times.
“Uli Busch, the reclusive billionaire German pesticide manufacturer, died of suspected cone snail poisoning. His lungs were paralysed in a similar way to that experienced by farming victims of his now-banned fertiliser, StartGrow.
“Requiem is a killer who made sure her criminal victims got the message. This has made it easier to work out which crimes had her fingerprints over them. We are still seeking her, but our information suggests she has most likely fled the country.
“But while Requiem constantly remains on our radar, the more immediate issue is the four crime families taking the lives of our fellow Victorians unchecked,” Detective Ryan added. “Premier Warren said earlier this will no longer be tolerated. The Gangland Operations Unit stands ready and will hunt these lawless clans wherever they’re hiding and shut them down—permanently.”
Ryan told the media she had no comment to make on the globally trending hashtags #saverequiem and #karmickillerforthewin.
A Victims of Crime’s spokeswoman, Miranda Oakley, said she understood why members of the public sympathised with Requiem getting rid of the “dregs of society” especially when “we feel the police have done little to stop these gang warlords in the past three decades.”
“She’s a hero to many of us,” Mrs Oakley said. “I cheered so hard when I heard how Ken Lee died. My kids and all their friends have been retweeting #saverequiem all day. I hope Requiem’s exile is somewhere nice.”
In other news, former Homicide Squad Chief Barry Moore is still missing, believed to be in hiding. He was stood down on November 6 last year and a warrant issued for his arrest after a video labelled “Zebra” was made public. It allegedly shows Moore caught on a camera committing brutal acts of violence and murder on two homeless brothers and their dog. IBAC investigations are continuing.
Detective Senior Sergeant Frank Burns, 55, now heads up the Homicide Squad. Recruited from the New South Wales Police Force, he says no stone will be left unturned in tracking down his predecessor.