Chapter 22 - Wren #2
I take the opportunity to get a good look at him.
He has thinning, dark hair that curls wildly at the sides of his head; his beard is long and unkempt in a way that feels more distracted than careless.
He wears thick-rimmed glasses that magnify his large brown eyes.
The open short-sleeved shirt he wears hangs off him without much care, exposing the worn white tank beneath.
Finally, he shakes his head. “I give up, who are you? You’re clearly not the feds, but you don’t look like mafia either.”
“We’re—” Elias starts, but Harry stops him.
“No, not you. Her.” He points to me, and my eyebrows raise in surprise. “I want you to tell me who you are.”
“Me?” I squeak out in surprise.
“Yeah, you look like a terrible liar.”
“Umm, thanks?” I say, unsure if that’s a compliment or an insult.
“The rest of them I got nothing from, but you,” he says with a grin. “Your face went from scared to curious, to heated.”
“Heated?” Sly asks, sounding upset.
“Yeah, when she looked at that one,” Harry says, pointing at Jagger. I had just been thinking about how sexy he looks standing like that. “See! She’s doing it again.”
Pete snickers, and I send him a glare.
“What’s interesting is she’s sitting in your lap,” Harry says to Dex. “Does she pine for that one while she’s in a relationship with you?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious.
“Jesus Christ,” Sly mutters, running a hand down his face.
‘Who she is or isn’t in a relationship with isn’t your concern,” Elias informs him. “As for who we are—”
“No, I want to hear from her. I already told you,” Harry says, gesturing back to me.
“My name is Wren,” I tell him, wanting to move this conversation forward. “We’re from America.”
“Yes, I already figured that much out. I want to know who you are, not where you’re from.”
“I told you, I’m Wren, and that’s Pete, Dex, Sly, Jagger, and Elias,” I tell him, pointing to each of my guys.
“And who are you to each other?” Harry asks.
“She’s our girlfriend,” Dex says, making me smile as I lean back against him.
Harry’s eyebrows raise in surprise before he looks around at each of my guys again. “That… I didn't expect.”
He jumps up, and Elias asks, “Where are you going?”
“I need a drink to get through this conversation. Does anyone else want some vodka?”
“Yes, please!” I say excitedly. I hadn’t tried that yet.
“No,” Sly says, frowning at me.
“Why not?” I pout as Harry comes back in with seven glasses and a large bottle of vodka.
“Because it could be drugged or poisoned.”
“You can watch me drink some if it’ll make you feel better,” Harry says as he proceeds to pour himself a small amount and down it all in one go. “Help yourselves.” He gestures to it.
Sly looks at me, so I ask, “Please? Sir?” I add on, hoping that’ll tip him over the edge.
He doesn’t look happy about it, but grabs a glass and inspects it before doing the same to the vodka bottle.
He pours a very small amount and tastes it.
We all watch, and I half expect him to suddenly start choking, given how serious he looks, but finally he nods, and pours a little more into the glass, then passes it to me.
I take a tiny sip, my brows raising in surprise. “Whoa, that’s strong.”
“That’s pure Russian vodka!” Harry says proudly.
“Is that better than American? I’ve never had any before.”
“Never had vodka?” he asks, his wide eyes looking at the others. “Do these men keep you in a bubble or something?”
“The opposite, actually.”
“Wren,” Elias says in warning.
“Oh, now I need to know the story!” Harry says excitedly.
“Well, we actually came here to get some info from you,” I tell him, remembering why we’re here. Elias gives me a nod of approval as I wait for Harry to respond.
He pours himself another finger of vodka before downing it and slamming his glass down.
“First, I want to know where you heard the name Black Heat.”
“I don’t suppose you know Ivan Sokolov?”
He laughs, sounding a little unhinged. “Do I know Ivan Sokolov, she asks!” He laughs again. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“Uh…” I say, unsure what to say.
“Yes, Wren, everyone in Russia knows Ivan,” he finally answers.
“Well, we think he’s selling a weapon called Black Heat, and we are trying to find information on it.”
“Now why would a group of Americans like you want to know about that?” he asks, pouring himself another shot of vodka.
“I listened to your podcasts,” Elias tells him. “I think you know a lot about it. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re one of the few people not under Ivan’s influence.”
“Of course not!” Harry says before literally spitting on the ground to his side, making my nose scrunch up in distaste. “That svoloch has ruined this country, and if he distributes that gun globally, like he plans, it’s going to change everything.”
Black Heat is a gun? I guess I expected it to be something a little more unique.
“What do you mean?” Elias asks, leaning forward. “What will a new gun change?”
Harry snorts, shaking his head as if Elias has just said the most na?ve thing imaginable. He lifts his glass, downs it in one go, and slams it back onto the table.
My stomach tightens, a prickle of unease crawling up my spine as he presses his fingertips together, glancing around as if to make sure he has all our undivided attention.
I think he enjoys the attention; he looks more excited than I’d expect a man who’s about to reveal a world-changing weapon to be.
“It doesn’t fire bullets,” he starts, his voice dropping, conspiratorial now. “No casings or shells. And it barely makes a sound. What it spits out is a concentrated beam of heat. A pulse. And whatever it touches…” His eyes widen, as if to add dramatic effect, “it cooks.”
“It’s like a flame thrower?” Pete asks, but Harry shakes his head, looking amused.
“No, nothing like that. The beam is almost invisible. It cooks you from the inside out,” Harry clarifies, nodding emphatically.
“The skin stays mostly intact at first. But inside, that’s where the real damage happens.
The body instantly shuts down because it doesn’t know how to regulate its own temperature.
” His eyes flick to me. “You ever see a man collapse without a wound on him, screaming like he’s on fire? ”
I swallow hard, the room suddenly feeling too small.
“Have you?” Sly asks.
Harry sits back, looking a little affronted as he adjusts his shirt, avoiding eye contact with us as he answers. “No, but I know it exists.”
Elias leans closer. “So it’s… what, experimental?”
Harry laughs. “Experimental is what they called it three years ago. Now?” He smirks as if amused. “Now it’s being produced and almost ready to ship.”
“What’s your involvement with all of this?” Sly asks him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Why share this with us?”
“I want him stopped,” Harry says instantly. “The more people that know about this, the better.”
“But you didn’t mention the name of the weapon in your podcast.”
“I’m not stupid enough to put a target on my back. Speaking of which, how’d you find me? I masked my signature,” he asks us.
“Your IP address was easy to find,” Elias tells him.
“It shouldn’t be. I have a lot of security in place to prevent that from happening.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Elias says with a shrug.
“He’s being modest,” Pete adds, and I nod.
“Yeah, Elias is like the best hacker ever. He used to work for the FBI,” I tell him proudly.
“No shit?” Harry says in surprise as he takes a better look at Elias before glancing at the rest of us. “But the rest of you aren’t feds. You’re not even cops.”
“No, they’re not,” Elias confirms. “But Wren’s brother here was running the mob in Arizona, until we stopped him.”
“Until Wren stopped him,” Dex feels the need to clarify.
“You?” Harry asks with a laugh. “What’d you do, spy on him for the feds? Is that how you know this one?” He gestures to Elias.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Elias and I have known each other our whole lives.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Sly says, steering us back on topic.
“Yes, I did. I said I want people to know about Ivan and the weapon. If that hits the streets…” he trails off, shaking his head. “It’ll cause a huge surge in death rates. They’ll have no way to track the criminals anymore unless they’re caught red-handed on camera.”
“Have you tried to do anything to stop it?” Dex asks curiously.
“What can I do?” he says with a shrug. “I’m just one guy with nothing but some karate training. I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.”
“I bet you couldn’t be any worse than Wren,” Pete says deadpan.
“Peter!” I gasp in shock. “You—You—You pecker!”
He bursts out laughing, and even Dex starts to bounce behind me as he presses his face into the back of my shoulder, trying to contain his laughter.
“Oh, angel, I love when you aim that fire at me. Makes me want to tease you more.”
“Careful, Peter, or I’ll put you at the bottom of my list.”
His eyes widen instantly as he sits up straight. “What list?”
“None of your business, just behave. I promise you don’t want to be at the bottom.”
“Why? Who’s at the bottom now?” I try to think of an answer, but I am totally kidding. I don’t have a list. But if I did, he’d definitely be at the bottom now. That thought has me narrowing my eyes at him, which, by the excited grin on his face, just works him up more.
“Can we focus, please?” Sly asks, leveling a glare at Pete.
“Me?!” Pete asks in shock. “Wren’s the one causing trouble.”
Sly raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re blaming your behavior on our sweet little Wren here?” He reaches over and cups my cheek, stroking his thumb along my skin, making me smile up at him. God, I love this man. He can make me all gooey with just one touch. He knows it, too, by the glint in his eye.
He lets go, and I glance over at Pete, who’s staring at us in shock. I give him a smug grin before turning back to Harry. “Harry?” He looks at me with a smile, as if he’s been enjoying our banter. “If you had all the resources you needed, how would you stop Ivan?”
His brows pinch in thought as he pushes his glasses up his nose, then presses his fingertips together, steepling them under his chin. “Interesting question. I think first, I’d stop that shipment from getting distributed. Then I’d probably just bomb the whole warehouse and his home.”
“Warehouse?” Elias asks, perking up at that word.
“Yeah, the one where he’s storing all the Black Heats.”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Elias says, holding out a hand. “You actually know where those weapons are. Right now?”
Harry laughs as if it's obvious. “Of course. Why? Don’t you?”
“No…” Elias says, dragging out the word. “We didn’t even know what it was until we got here.”
“Does that mean you can stop it from shipping? If I tell you where it is?” Harry asks hopefully.
“It’s not that simple, but we’ll try,” Elias tells him.
“How are we supposed to stop a shipment of guns?” I ask, trying to figure out what we’re supposed to do next.
“I guess we could steal them,” Dex suggests. “How many are there? A crate or two?”
Harry chuckles, looks at Dex, then bends over, clutching his stomach, as he starts howling with laughter. We all just watch him, unsure what the joke is. After a minute, his laughter dies down, and he wipes his tears away before finally seeing our faces.
“Wait—You weren’t serious, were you?”
Nobody answers, and he pours himself a double shot of vodka and throws it back.
Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he looks at each of us before shaking his head.
“You kids are in way over your heads. Maybe you should just go back home to mommy and daddy and stop trying to play in the big leagues. You’re gonna get yourselves killed. ”
“I’m thirty-nine,” Jagger signs, glaring at the man.
“What’s that? Sign language?” Harry asks, clearly not knowing what Jagger said.
“He said he’s not a kid, he’s thirty-nine,” I translate for him.
“And we can’t go home,” Pete explains. “We made a deal with our government. We don’t get to go home without a list of Ivan’s contacts and his head on a platter.”
Harry lets out a long whistle before shaking his head and filling his glass again. “I guess there’s only one thing left to say,” he raises his glass, “welcome to Russia!”
I press my back into Dex to help ground me. What have we gotten ourselves into? How are we supposed to take down the biggest mafia king in the world when we didn’t even know he had a warehouse full of some revolutionary weapon?
Maybe Harry is right, we’re in way over our heads. But we have no alternative. I refuse to call Russia our home for the rest of our lives.
Ivan might have more manpower and machinery, but we have our hearts and our intelligence. We’ll figure out a way to take him down if it’s the last thing we do.