by Kenya Wright
I buttoned up my shirt. “What’s going on?”
“I asked if you could outbid the contract on you. He said it’s possible.”
“How much does he want? I’m sure I can afford it.”
Hiro pulled out the lollipop and spoke in English. “We no longer take money. We have enough of that, Mr. Stronz.”
Stunned, I took my jacket from Naveen and put it on. “Then what do you want?”
“I’m told you’re the God of Technology. A modern-day warlock.”
“I know my way around computers.”
Hiro leaned his head to the side. “Could you shut off all the power in Japan, if I asked?”
I frowned. “Do you want the long or short answer?”
“The short one.”
“Maybe, but it wouldn’t be one easy swoop. It would be sections of the country hour by hour.”
“And what’s the long answer?”
“After China, Japan has the second-largest pumped-hydro storage installed capacity. Also, the electrical grid in Japan is isolated, with no international connections, and consists of two wide area synchronous grids that run at different frequencies and are connected by HVDC connections.” I buttoned my jacket. “Therefore, it’s a bitch to shut off quickly and all at once.”
“You were prepared for that question.” Hiro raised his brows. “Why?”
“I’ve been asked to shut off Japan’s power before.”
“The Lion asked you?”
“That would be between me and whoever requested it.”
“But you have done the Lion’s bidding?”
“No. I’ve done favors for my cousin.” I gestured to the men lining the wall. “I don’t know if you all are related, but surely by killing and fighting next to each other, you are cousins in blood. When family needs you, loyalty is required.”
“How loyal are you to the Lion?”
I frowned. “In every way possible.”
“And if this outbidding dealt with going against the Lion?”
“Then I would tell you no.”
Hiro nodded. “And there would be war between us.”
“That’s what comes when one tries to kill the other.” I smiled. “Where are you from?”
“Japan.”
I gazed at them. “And your friends?”
Hiro crunched on the lollipop, swallowed the candy part, and held the remaining white stick between two fingers. “Some are from Japan. Others were born in China, Korea, India, and Thailand.”
“Interesting.” I bobbed my head. “Japan and China’s electrical grids would be difficult to hack into, but not impossible. Korea would only take me an hour to blackout. India, half an hour. And Thailand, I can darken in minutes.”
I’ll push all of your countries to the dark ages if you come for me.
The man with the black hat and scarred eye glared my way.
I continued, “That’s a day of work at the most.”
“If you’re alive to do it.” Hiro twisted the tiny white stick in his fingers.
“I don’t need to be alive, I have an underground team that can do my bidding.”
Hiro’s face went stiff.
I returned to him. “Why did you ask about Japan?”
“I used to be a teacher.” Hiro held his hands in front of him. There I could see that he’d painted his short nails black. “From time to time, I still like to teach lessons.”
I asked, “Who in Japan needs a lesson?”
“That is my concern for now. Within twenty-four hours, I will call you with a time to shut Japan’s entire electrical grid off.”
“When I do that, it will be the end of my debt to you?”
“Yes. I would end my contract with Leonid in reference to you.”
I didn’t like the way he worded it. “Are there any other contracts Leonid has with you?”
“Yes.” Hiro grinned. “There’s a contract on the prima ballerina—Ava Jones. For that, I will not compromise. You might as well think of her as dead right now.”
I charged for him.
Fast, Naveen held me back.
I growled. “You don’t touch her! None of you!”
“We’re done with this meeting.” Hiro put his back to me and walked off. “For now, you’re safe, Mr. Stronz. Please don’t ruin our friendly moment.”
“We are not done!”
“Let’s go, Misha.” Naveen released me. “Come on.”
I glared at Hiro’s back. While he remained relaxed and blowing at his nails, his men were on guard and ready to protect him. I spotted the X branded on his neck.
“Hiro!” I called at him. “Change the deal!”
Slowly, Hiro turned around. “How?”
“I’ll shut off Japan for you, but that outbid is for Ava Jones’s contract, not mine.”
A knowing smirk formed on his face. “I figured you would want to do that. That’s good. I don’t like to kill women anyway. That works best for me.”
“But you won’t let me outbid my contract?”
“We like to deliver on at least part of the request. Leonid Turgenev gave us two contracts. While I will allow for one outbidding due to it being a woman, I will come through on the other.” Hiro’s smirk deepened. “Unless there are reasons that arise where it doesn’t matter.”
I spoke through clenched teeth, “Reasons?”
Hiro half bowed. “Good evening, Mr. Stronz.”
I scowled at him, ready to take my chances and snap his neck.
Naveen stepped in front of me and whispered. “Let’s talk this through outside.”
Maxwell patted my back. “Yeah. It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
I dragged myself away, unsure of what would happen next. The only good side to the whole matter was that Ava would be safe from these assassins.
The danger is only for me. Just another day as usual.
Pissed, I left with Maxwell and Naveen. They remained behind me as if making sure that I wouldn’t turn around and fight the Xecutioners. Surely, I wanted to give them a try. I didn’t care that I would be outnumbered. The fact that Leonid had contracted them to kill Ava, too, enraged me to no end. I was the one that killed his grandfather, not her.
Okay, Leonid. I was going to save you for last. Now things will be different. And when I kill you, I will take my sweet time.
When we exited the brothel, cool air hit my face.
“What was that, Misha?” Naveen raised his hands in the air. “Did I not explain to you that they were lethal?”
Maxwell took a joint out and lit it. “If he didn’t remember, the pile of dead bodies should have been a clue.”
“Pile of dead bodies. That’s not that difficult to make happen.” I stared at the building. “Who does he think he is?”
“Hiro,” Naveen said.
“That was a rhetorical question.” I frowned. “The clothes. Jewelry. The matter fact macabre presentation of the Brotherhood’s men—all piled on top of each other. The Xecutioners were just showing off.”
“Of course they were. However one must admit it wasn’t a bad show.” Naveen shrugged. “Like I told you before, my goal is to keep you alive. You have Ava safe. Now we need to focus on you.”
Maxwell blew out smoke. “And it’s a simple solution too. That motherfucker was speaking in riddles, but I understood the meaning behind the words.”
Naveen turned to him. “Which is what?”
“There rule is not to kill women. I’m sure this Leonid guy was told that but remained adamant. They took the contract anyway, knowing that they could convince you to outbid him.” Maxwell handed the joint to me.
I took the joint. “Keep talking.”
Maxwell put his hands in his pockets. “So now they don’t have to kill Ava and they have you doing their bidding for whatever enemy they have in Japan.”
Naveen nodded. “It’s Kenji—the Dragon. Hiro can’t safely return to Japan to see his family because of him.”
Maxwell quirked his brows. “The Dragon?
Who’s that?”
Without asking, Naveen grabbed the joint and puffed on it. “Hiro was not just a teacher, he was a professor of chess. Be careful with him and take note of everything he says.”
“The Dragon is the head of the Yakuza.” I blew out smoke. “This makes things difficult. If I blackout Japan for Hiro, then it looks like the Brotherhood sides with him. Any relationship that Kazimir has with the Dragon will be shaky after that.”
Maxwell took the joint back from Naveen. “Either way, Hiro wants you as an ally against the Dragon or at least the Brotherhood on his side. Which means, he’s not trying to kill you.”
Naveen shook his head. “That doesn’t mean Misha is safe, either.”
I widened my eyes. “But it does mean I have several options.”
“Which brings us to Hiro talking about reasons,” Maxwell inhaled the joint. Smoke left his nostrils. “Hiro said that they like to deliver. The Xecutioners’ reputation probably depends on it.”
“It does.” Naveen eyed the joint as if waiting for more.
Maxwell handed it to me. “Hiro said that he will come through on your contract unless there are reasons that arise where it doesn’t matter.”
Thinking about that, I didn’t smoke the joint. Instead, I gave it to Naveen.
“Get it?” Maxwell smiled. “Kill the one who requested the contract and then there’s no reason for the Xecutioners to deliver on it. Their reputation is intact because the motherfucker can’t speak.”
“I don’t know.” Naveen puffed on the joint. “That might be a jump to a wrong conclusion. Leonid is going to be protected. If we spend all of our time going after him and are wrong, then Misha may be dead.”
“Naw.” Maxwell smirked. “Kill Leonid, protect Ava, then go to Kazimir for more reinforcements. Boom. We’re done.”
Naveen gave the joint to Maxwell. “Misha, what do you think?”
“I think that protecting Ava is at the top of my list, and the second is killing Leonid. Once both are done, let’s see if the Xecutioners are still on the chessboard.”
Naveen nodded. “Good because I don’t want war with the Xecutioners. At one time, I considered them friends.”
Maxwell bobbed his head. “Plus, they’re pretty as hell.”
Naveen and I stared at him.
“Come on.” Maxwell shrugged. “I can’t be the only person thinking that.”
Chapter 11
Ava
When Misha returned to the penthouse, the evening’s schedule changed. A new threat hovered in the air. The group of assassins had rattled him.
What are we going to do?
Misha wanted everyone to split up and stay hidden until all threats were neutralized. I battled with following Misha’s instructions or coming up with my own solution. The problem was that I was out of my level of knowledge. Misha dealt with guns and killers. And I was an expert in unhelpful facts like, that the 19th century Classical period in ballet coincided with the 19th-century Romantic era in music. What the hell could we do with my specialties when the question dealt with keeping everyone safe?
I’ll have to trust in Misha.
He gave us clear instructions, but each step was foreign to me.
It reminded me of the sensations that came when I moved to Russia for the first time as a teenager. The complete unknown. Then, my future shifted to all black. I had no idea what would come from my entering the school. Would I fail or succeed? Would I hate Russia or love it? All I could do was walk a path of faith—see the possible in the invisible.
Thank God it all worked out.
But here I was again. Misha told me to have faith—to give it all to him. I swallowed and nodded my head, hoping that I was making the right choice.
God, please walk with us.
So far, my grandmother stayed off our enemy’s radar. Leonid and the Xecutioners never mentioned her. We had to keep it that way. Rolan would take Grandma to Prague. Apparently, hundreds of his father’s men would be there to protect him and her.
I thought I should go to Prague with them. However, Misha’s friend, Naveen thought the assassin group would follow us there. Therefore, I would remain in St Petersburg for now. Misha would stay by my side until all of this was over. He kept saying that we were going underground. All I could do was trust in him to make sure this ended safely.
An hour passed. With a worried face, Grandma packed. I put a few of my things in a bag. Minutes later, we said our goodbyes faster than I was comfortable with.
During our hug, Grandma whispered to me, “I’m confident in Misha. He loves you with a fierceness I have rarely seen in any man. He will protect you until his last breath.”
My eyes watered. “I don’t want you to go so far away—”
“I’ll be in Prague. We will see each other soon.” She held me tighter. “You know I wouldn’t separate from you unless I knew it was the best thing. With me gone that’s one less person Misha has to worry about. I want his focus on you and him.”
I blinked. “I understand.”
“We will talk on the phone as much as you want.”
With that, Rolan rushed her away.
Misha and I left out the back of the building with several of his men. Maxwell and Naveen led the way, scanning the area every few steps.
What will happen to us?
Silence was the only sound in the limo as we rode to our destination. We held hands the entire time. Misha focused on his window’s view from his window, appearing deep in thought. I followed his lead and gazed out of my window.
Where are we going?
The glitz and glam of St Petersburg shifted to shoddy bricked buildings. While the city didn’t have bad neighborhoods, like most American cities, there were places one should be vigilant around. Those sections boasted pickpockets and a few rowdy drunks here and there.
The limo continued to the outskirts of the city. People called this area the sleeping districts.
This is starting to look familiar.
I leaned forward.
Wait. Are we going to Kupchino?
Kupchino lay in the south of St Petersburg. Boasting Soviet-time panel housing, broad avenues, and severe isolation, it represented the very definition of a sleeping district. It was separated from the mainland and only had one underground station. To get to other parts of St Petersburg from there one had to take several buses and trams.
Sometimes referred to as the South Ghetto, Kupchino also had a bad reputation as being dangerous, ugly, and remote. Gopniks lived here. They were low-level criminals—street bandits. The female form was gopnitsa.
Already, I spotted a group of Gopniks squatting on the corner. Squatting was one of the extraordinary things about this group. Knees folded and soles on the concrete, the men were completely lowered to the ground but not sitting on it. Instead, they appeared to lounge their butts on invisible chairs.
I’d read that squatting gopnik-style was essentially born in Soviet prisons, where during free time convicts had no place to sit and relax. They were forced to squat and learned how to do it for a long time without their legs becoming numb.
To my surprise, the limo stopped right in front of the Gopniks, giving me a closer look. It must have been eight men, wearing caps and different colored Adidas tracksuits. One took a swig from a small bottle of vodka while another smoked a cigarette by him. On the ground, sunflower seed shells scattered under their feet.
Misha lifted my hand and gently kissed my fingertips. “Let’s go.”
Oh. We’re going to where the Gopniks are?
We left the limo.
The Gopniks glanced our way, spotted Misha, and returned to their conversation.
I looked at the building in front of us. A sign read, Bones Bar.
This looks dangerous as hell.
As if hearing me, Misha guided us forward and said, “Don’t worry. Everything is safer than you think.”
“I trust you.”
He smiled. “Excellent.”
A huge
man stood out front. He nodded at Misha, moved out of the way, and pushed at the heavy-looking door. It screeched open. I glanced over my shoulder. Maxwell and Naveen followed with several of Misha’s and my guards.
We entered Bones Bar.
The décor matched the name. Different sized bones covered the walls—femurs, vertebra, and more. Two big skull chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. Tossed bullets covered the ground. I stepped on several of them as I walked next to Misha.
Tons of people crowded the place—all Gopniks dressed in tracksuits and caps. Many chugged their drinks and chattered with each other. Some glanced our way and kept their mouths closed. It was clear no one wanted any problems with Misha. That made me more comfortable.
I guess this is well hidden. No sane person would ever think a wealthy man lived here.
We continued past the bar and into a long hallway. A purple glow bathed the space. Another guy sat at the end. He saw Misha and rushed to open the door. “Hello, sir. It’s been a long time.”
Misha didn’t respond as he guided us through the door and down two flights of stairs.
Okay. Now I’m seeing why Misha kept saying underground. He really meant it.
A silver door stood at the bottom of the stairs. A large A had been carved in the center. A circle surrounded the letter. It was unlike anything from the bar above us. Misha placed his hand on it. A beep sounded. The silver door slid open. And then we went down more stairs.
O-kay.
I swallowed my fear and held his hand tighter. When a hallway appeared at the end of the stairs I was relieved to not find any more stairs. Blue lines of light covered the dark floor as if there were glow sticks embedded in the cement.
The glowing hallway led us to a massive warehouse full of high-end technology full of several people with headsets, typing into their computers. It looked like something one would see in a movie scene depicting a NASA command center. It was a severe room painted silver, including desks and several chairs of tubular metal and dark blue canvas. The floor was carpeted in silver. A half-open door revealed part of a tiled bathroom.
All the walls lit up with large screens displaying various electronic maps of the world, stock figures, or the news. I scanned the area. There must’ve been fifty people in here—all with three or four screens at their desks and quite a few keyboards. Several had these electronic black goggles covering their eyes. Others talked into their headsets. Most kept their gazes glued on their laptops.