Russia Girl

by Kenneth Rosenberg

  They’d walked only a block down the sidewalk when they heard the high-pitched whine of sirens approaching at full speed. Natalia pulled Rita into a darkened alleyway as two police cars flew past, lights flashing, and then screeched to a halt outside the parking garage. An officer opened his door and crouched behind it, pointing his gun toward the entrance.

  “We’ll go the other way,” Natalia whispered before leading Rita down the alley. They turned right at the next intersection and made a broad detour down quiet side streets all the way to Marina’s place. Natalia rang the bell, looking around to see if they’d been noticed by anyone at all. No other pedestrians were in sight. When the door buzzed, Natalia pushed on through, pausing on the other side to catch her breath as the door swung shut behind them. They made their way upstairs, where Marina was back in bed by the time they entered the apartment.

  “You brought me a visitor,” Marina croaked.

  “This is Rita.” Natalia dropped her bag on the floor and closed the apartment door. She moved across the room to pull the curtains shut as well.

  “You did it.” Marina’s relief was evident. “I thought I’d seen the last of you.”

  “I’m glad you had such faith in me,” Natalia replied.

  Marina ignored the comment and turned her gaze to Rita, who stood near the door, unsure of herself. “So young,” said Marina. “And so beautiful. Come in, come in! Forgive me for not getting up. I’m Marina.”

  Rita smiled uneasily and moved further into the room, finally taking a seat at the dining table.

  “Did you kill him this time?” Marina asked Natalia.

  “No,” Natalia replied. “Not yet.”

  “Not yet?! You’re not planning to go back?!”

  “I have to. You know that I do.”

  Marina was disturbed. “And you’ll leave your sister for me to take care of? Is that it?”

  “I won’t be gone long. A few hours at most.”

  “Why don’t you quit while you’re ahead?! You’ve got your sister back!”

  “You know there’s more to it than that.”

  “You want your revenge. That’s what this is about.”

  “No!” Natalia snapped. “It’s not about revenge! It’s about getting my life back! It’s about never again having to look over my shoulder!”

  “You want to see him suffer. To grovel at your feet! You’re letting emotion cloud your judgment. This isn’t some game you’re playing!”

  “I don’t need you to tell me that,” Natalia seethed. “You’re not the one who lost a best friend. Who lost a father! You’re not the one who can’t sleep at night, knowing that he might come for you, for everyone you love, at any time. I can’t live like that! I won’t!”

  Marina looked down toward her hands, struggling to find an answer to this attack. “All of us have had to endure our fair share of pain.”

  At this, Natalia felt a wave of regret wash over her. She moved closer to Marina and sat, taking one of her friend’s hands in her own. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. It was selfish.”

  “I worry about you, Natalia. That’s all.”

  “I know you do.” Natalia did want to see fear in Zigic’s eyes, and yes, maybe even a hint of remorse if that was possible. Marina was right about that. “I’ll be as careful as I can be. Come, let’s have something to eat.” Natalia took two cans down from the cabinet and looked toward Rita. “I hope soup is all right. It’s about all we have.”

  “There’s a bit of bread left as well,” Marina added.

  “Why don’t you take care of this, Rita, I’d like to have a shower.” Natalia put the cans on the counter along with a can opener and a pot. “After I get out maybe you can tell me something more about the layout of Zigic’s house. Anything you remember at all.”

  “You’re just like mother, you know,” said a misty-eyed Rita. “Strong as a bull and just as obstinate.”

  “What about Alina? I thought you wanted me to rescue her.”

  “I want the police to rescue her. You can’t do this yourself, Natalia. You’ll only end up getting killed!”

  Natalia crossed her arms. She couldn’t argue with her sister over this one. The truth was, she very well might get killed. In fact, it was probably more likely than not, but Natalia was willing to take her chances. Goran Zigic must die, and Natalia was the only one for the job.

  Rita moved to the counter and picked up one of the cans. “Go ahead and take your shower. The soup will be ready when you’re done.”

  Without another word, Natalia retreated to the bathroom. She turned on the tap and pulled the dress off over her head, throwing it onto a chair. Next she slid the bobby pins out of her wig and took it off, running a hand through her natural hair before rolling off her stockings and underwear and stepping into the shower. The warm water caressed her face and ran down the length of her body. She’d killed two more men. All life was precious, she knew, yet for these men she felt no pity. Live by the gun, die by the gun. Just one year ago the thought of taking a human life would have seemed preposterous, but she was hardened now and chalking up a tally. Natalia tried to relax and clear her mind. This battle was not yet over. She must be prepared for the finish. By morning it would be done, one way or another.

  Chapter Forty

  The taxi cab slowed as it passed along the high brick wall fifty meters from Zigic’s front gate. “Here!” Natalia called out. “You can drop me right here.” The driver pulled to the side of the road. Natalia paid the fare and climbed out with her duffle bag, the strap heavy on her shoulder. She wore her full-length grey coat, jeans and black boots. Her long hair was tied tightly at the back of her head. When the taxi pulled away she was alone on the roadway, illuminated from above by a single streetlight. She ducked under a tree and into darkness before dropping her bag to the ground and pulling open the zipper.

  The first thing Natalia took from the duffel was a bullet-proof vest. She removed her coat and fastened the vest tightly around herself, then put the coat back on over the top. Next, she retrieved the submachine gun, with grenade launcher attached. She felt through the bag with one hand until she found two 30-round magazines, loading one into the gun and putting the other into a pocket. She shoved the small stash of grenades into her other pockets one at a time, loading the last grenade into the chamber itself before strapping the gun across her back. A hunting knife went on her right calf. Lastly, she took out a lump of C-4 explosive, two blasting caps, two lengths of fuse and a lighter. The empty duffel she bunched up and shoved under a bush.

  Natalia walked toward the front gate. On the other side, the same two cars were in the drive. Above and behind, a figure paced back and forth in an upstairs window. Zigic? She couldn’t be sure. There was no sign of any guards, though she knew they were there, lurking someplace out of view. A surveillance camera pointed toward the gate. Another took in the yard. The top of the brick wall was lined with razor-sharp pieces of broken glass, a low-tech way to keep out intruders. It made no difference to Natalia. She wasn’t going for a quiet entrance. She would announce her arrival, the louder the better. Zigic was afraid of incoming fire? Then let him piss in his pants. Natalia pulled out one of her blasting caps and stuck in a four-inch length of fuse. She put the cap in her mouth and bit down carefully, crimping the metal around the fuse and remembering Multinovic’s words about careless terrorists blowing their faces off. When she tugged on the fuse it was tight and her face was still intact.

  Natalia did a quick appraisal, estimating the weak spots on the gate, the distance to the house, and the likelihood of return fire coming from the windows. If she hit them hard and fast, they’d have little time to respond. She had to be careful, but she couldn’t over think it either. Natalia pulled out her small brick of C4. At the side of the gate, she mashed her putty around one of the hinges. She stuck in the blasting cap, pulled out her lighter and lit the fuse before moving along the brick wall and crouching low. A thunderous explosion shook the ground and everyth
ing around her, nearly knocking Natalia over. She regained her bearings and moved back through billowing smoke to find the gate askew, still connected by the top hinge, but with an opening at the bottom. Natalia slid through, raising her weapon as she rushed the front door. An angry black swirl of motion flew toward her from the left. Natalia fired a short burst and a Rottweiler dropped dead at her feet.

  From inside, Natalia heard commotion, voices shouting, feet pounding. She cocked her grenade launcher and fired, blowing the front door backwards off its hinges. Advancing forward she saw a man sprawled underneath, immobile. She moved past and inside. To the left was another door, and a large fireplace beyond. To the right, a stairway leading upwards. Natalia saw muzzle flashes from a landing at the top and darted left through the doorway as a hail of bullets rained down from above. She felt no fear, only adrenaline and a rising fury. She wanted these men dead. A deep desire for vengeance overtook her. Not just for herself, or her sister, but for all of them. Helena, Victoria, Sonia. Every girl who’d ever been enslaved by men like these. Men who offered no mercy and thus deserved none in return. The time had come to pay their due. To answer for their sins. She was the one who would make them pay.

  Natalia poked her head around the corner and saw a man with a pistol, crouched low between the stairway railings. The muzzle flashed again and she heard bullets slam into a strip of molding just above her head, splintering the wood into chips. She ducked back, unscathed, knowing he wouldn’t likely miss again. From her knees, she blindly held her gun around the corner and fired off three short bursts but there was little chance she’d hit a target that she couldn’t see. Instead, Natalia pulled the gun back, loaded another grenade and rose to her feet. Holding the gun tightly, she counted down from three and lunged around the corner, firing her grenade at the dark crouching figure. Two bullets crashed into her chest, throwing her backwards. Natalia gasped for breath and scrambled for cover as the grenade exploded in a ferocious blast. On hands and knees, she pulled open her jacket and examined the slugs embedded in her vest, front and center. Loosening the straps, she inhaled deeply three times before daring to take another peek at her assailant. This time she saw the man’s crumpled body, inert at the bottom of the stairs, a pool of blood spreading slowly across the floor. He was finished. The same with the man still lifeless under the shattered front door. Two down. How many guards were left? Natalia had no idea. She released the first magazine from her gun, not wanting to run out at an inopportune moment, and fished in her pocket for the fresh one before locking it into place.

  Natalia moved quickly, past the two dead bodies and on up the debris-littered stairs, senses straining for any signs of danger. Was that the sound of a door closing? She couldn’t be sure. When she reached the second floor, she walked down a hallway and charged into the first room on her left. It was the room she’d seen a figure in earlier, standing near the window. The light was still on. Cigar smoke hung in the air but the room was empty. She checked under a desk and behind a couch. Nobody. Just the abandoned cigar, still burning in an ashtray on the desk.

  Back in the hallway, Natalia moved to the next door, gently trying the handle this time. This door was locked. Taking a step backwards, she kicked as hard as she could with the bottom of her boot but the door wouldn’t budge. She fired three shots at the lock and the door swung open. Natalia knew that someone had locked it from the inside. It had to be Zigic, hiding himself away. She burst through the door, gun blazing away at a mirror and artwork and a giant TV on the wall. Lamps and windows shattered and the furniture was ripped to shreds. Nobody was there. She checked under an empty bed and down beside a dresser. Inside a wardrobe she found only bullet-riddled clothing. She searched a small attached bathroom. Nothing. There was only one other place he could possibly be. From behind a closet door she heard a man’s choked sobbing and then some unintelligible mumbling. He was talking to himself. Praying? Natalia couldn’t tell. She pressed herself against the wall to one side. “Come out, Zigic,” she said.

  He answered her with gunshots, as bullets blasted through the door, whizzing harmlessly past. One grenade would end it, she thought. Or a quick burst from her machine gun. Instead, she reached a hand over to the doorknob and gave it a gentle turn. She wanted to see his face in these final moments. She wanted him to beg forgiveness, for ruining her life, for stealing her sister, for killing her best friend. For having her father murdered in cold blood. And besides, somebody had to let her into the basement. With her finger tight on the trigger, she used the barrel of her gun to slowly open the door. Inside Zigic sat on the floor, pistol in hand. When he saw the gun pointed inches from his forehead his expression went from fear to amusement and back again as he struggled to comprehend reality.

  “It’s you!” He laughed to himself before tossing his pistol away. “You won’t shoot me! Not an unarmed man!”

  Despite what Multinovic had told her, Natalia still marveled at how pathetic Zigic had become. This was her monster. The source of so many nightmares was just a sad and broken man. She still yearned to empty her clip into his gut; to see his body jump and shake as the lead tore him to pieces. There would be time for that later. “Get up!” she shouted.

  “Ok! Ok!” Zigic waved his hands in the air.

  Natalia moved backwards but kept the gun trained on Zigic’s head as he rose, trembling, to his feet. She nodded toward the hall. “Let’s go. Out!” she commanded. “And keep your hands in the air.”

  Zigic narrowed his red, bloodshot eyes as he walked out the door. “Where are you taking me?”

  “We’re going to get Alina.” Natalia stayed a few steps behind him as he walked along the hall and turned down the stairs.

  “Who?”

  “Just keep moving.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, Zigic saw the two dead bodyguards. “What do you want, Natalia?” he pleaded. “You can have anything! You can run one of the houses. You can run them all. You’ll earn big money. Big money! Buy cars and a house. It is a good life, Natalia. I promise you!”

  “The basement!” Natalia shouted. “Now!!!”

  “Ok, the basement. I will show you the basement,” Zigic mumbled. They turned right and he led her through a kitchen with two oversized ovens, gas stoves and a large center island.

  “Keep your hands on top of your head,” said Natalia as they passed out through the other side of the kitchen and turned a corner, coming to a small door directly underneath the stairs. It was solid steel, with an electronic keypad to one side. Just like Rita had told her. “Open it.”

  “How can I open it with my hands on my head?”

  Natalia pressed her gun barrel to the base of his skull. “I said open it.” Zigic lowered one hand and pressed a code into the keypad. A green light flashed and Natalia heard the lock click open. “You first,” she said. “Slowly.”

  Zigic pulled open the door and flipped a switch, illuminating a narrow stairway. He descended downwards with Natalia close behind. The stairs led into a damp, brick cellar. On the far side were two steel cages, each of them roughly two-meters square. Lying on a cot inside one of them was a girl, wide-eyed and silent, huddled under a thin blanket.

  “Alina?” said Natalia. “It’s ok, I’m here for you.”

  In a quick flash of movement, Zigic lunged toward the wall and the lights went off, plunging them into total darkness. Natalia fired her gun but it was too late. Zigic’s hand was on the barrel, shoving it up and away as he wrenched the weapon from her grasp. Natalia fell to the floor. Pushing herself backwards, she saw quick flashes of light and felt the hot lead of a single bullet tear through her right calf, clipping the leather sheath that held her knife.

  “Where are you, bitch?!” Zigic growled. Natalia reached down with one hand and pulled out the knife, sticky with warm blood. She held it in the air, arm cocked, waiting. The lights came on, Zigic standing with one finger on the switch. Natalia hurled the knife toward his head. The heavy metal handle struck Zigic hard in the temple, sending him to the
floor in a clump, out cold. Natalia scrambled to her feet and reached for the gun, pulling it out from under his motionless body.

  “Alina?!” Natalia turned to the girl in the cage.

  Still huddled under her blanket, a shocked Alina managed a nod.

  “You’re going home,” Natalia added. “But you have to tell me, where is the key?”

  Alina raised a shaky finger and pointed to a hook on the wall. Natalia grabbed the key ring and quickly moved across to the cage. When she’d opened the door, she helped Alina up and then out, barefoot and dressed in only thin underwear.

  “Stand aside.” Natalia let go of Alina, lifted Zigic’s limp body by the arms and dragged him into the cage before moving back out and locking the door behind him. He wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon enough. Through the bars, she kicked at his foot until he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

  “How does it feel?” she said to him. “Being locked in a cage?”

  Zigic thrust an arm toward her, but Natalia jumped backwards just out of reach. He pulled his arm back into the cage and climbed to his feet. He was dazed, as though he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Natalia stood facing him. This was it. After wanting to kill this man for so long, the time had finally come. It almost seemed too easy, watching him there completely helpless with no recourse but to die. Natalia wasn’t about to feel any pity. She would give him the mercy he deserved. None at all. She gripped the gun tightly, pointed it at his body and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. She tried again, but still the same. A demented smile crept across Zigic’s lips and he started to laugh. Natalia held the gun up and examined it. She tried to release the clip but it wouldn’t come out. It was bent. She banged on it with her hand and tried again but it was no use.

  “I knew you wouldn’t shoot me!” Zigic was full of mirth and glee. “You can’t kill me! Not some useless whore like you, Natalia. That’s all you are. Don’t you ever forget that! You’re a whore!”