Kill on Sight #3
“I see a good man who will help Tatiana with everything he has. Does it still bother you, seeing what she had to endure to survive?” She watched his eyes widen in surprise, as if he just had an answer to a question burning through his soul. 'No,' he replied with conviction.
“Take care of her; maybe in time she can take care of you. Can I trust you to do this?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“It is dark now. When you leave, walk around the block, then go into your apartment at the time indicated… oh, I took your binoculars. Figured a fresh start would be in order.” Jessie pulled out two envelopes and handed them to Victor. He saw his name on one, and on the other Tatiana’s.
“What are these?”
“Your explanations of what happened, when and if they come knocking. It’s mostly the truth. Learn them, then burn them. Keep it simple. Understood?”
“Yes, thank you… I think?” He smiled. “Will I ever see you again?”
“Only if I need a favor…”
“Not much I can help with, but I will if you need me.”
“Victor… I think you would be a much better US representative… maybe one with an agenda of helping girls like Tatiana?”
Victor cocked his head sideways for a moment in thought, then smiled. “Oh, one more thing?” Victor quietly asked. “I heard you say Ivanov… who is he?”
“A ghost I need to kill. Now, get Tatiana and go!”
Jessie heard the front door open, then close quietly.
She returned to the living room and gazed upon her handiwork.
She realized how fortunate she was that her yearlong plan was working so far…
but the worst was yet to come. She took several pictures with her cell phone, then retrieved the cell jammer and bug, and quietly slipped out into the darkened hall.
No matter how hard she tried in the past, she could never pin down Danny Spillane’s whereabouts… now, Murphy’s Pub was next on her list.
Simo watched the very peculiar new ceremony that formally inducted CIA members into the service of their country. It was quick and the class was small. Jessie never showed. Soon, he was back up in the same conference room in CIA headquarters with Chen, when Booker was suddenly called away.
“Something is up,” Simo sighed.
“I believe you are right. I texted Ari…” Chen grinned.
“Where did you hide your cell?” Simo smiled back.
Chen tapped his Rolex chronograph wristwatch. “America is so far behind Asian cellphone technology.”
“What did Ari say?”
“He will get back… ah, here. One moment.”
Simo watched Chen casually glance at his watch and saw a small tremor pass through his lips. Something bad was going on.
Chen leaned close into Simo’s ear. “A US representative with ties to Ireland was just found dead with the head of the IRA. They killed each other… apparently. Anonymous tip.”
“Chen… I am a complete idiot! Who is the leader of the US Irish Mob?”
“Danny Spillane Jr. Why?”
“Fuck! Where is his territory?”
“Ancient history… used to be Boston, now it’s New York. But they deal in drugs.”
“It’s Jessie! She did this!” Simo whispered.
“How?”
“I remember her saying something about an Irish mobster buying her contract! Fuck! We gotta get out of here now!”
Simo stood up as Booker strode in. “Gentlemen… I have bad news. It is my belief that our Jessie has gone off reservation.”
“Where is she?” Simo demanded.
“No clue…”
“I see it in your face, what’s up?” Simo held out his hands.
“Peter Queen, who was a US representative, was found murdered along with Sean O’Brien, who was the new head of the Irish Republican Army.
Get this! Nearby, two goons of O’Brien’s were found murdered in the back of a van…
a van that contained an empty body bag, chemical suits, and several gallons of sulfuric acid. ”
“So?” Simo replied. “Who found them?”
“An anonymous tip… from an untraceable phone.”
“And you think it’s Jessie? Why?” Simo shot back.
“Have you ever heard of Danny Spillane?”
“I think so? Mobster?” Simo deadpanned.
“Yes. Apparently, he is tied to… get this… Ivan Ivanov.”
“No shit,” Simo sighed.
“Our anonymous tip? The voice said that Peter Queen was involved in the sex slave business. There are pictures, video, and documentation coming in the mail. Here. Why here, if it wasn’t Jessie? The FBI handles domestic.”
“So where is this Spillane?”
“The FBI is on it. He is one slippery and brutal SOB. Word is he visits West Manhattan… Hell’s Kitchen.”
“If it is Jessie, then let her finish,” Simo offered.
“I could give a fuck if she killed Spillane. Simo… if she killed a sitting US representative, there is no, and I mean ZERO help for her. Soon as we get DNA confirmation that she was in that apartment… she will be on the kill-on-sight list. You asked for this… if I get confirmation, you find her and put her down. A fucking US Congressman? Fuck…”
Simo turned to Chen, who nodded. “Time to go.”
As Simo headed toward the door, Booker called out, “We have a deal, right?”
Simo scowled, “Maybe. Get your fucking confirmation before you sentence her to death.”
Simo left the room and headed straight toward the elevator with Mr. and Mrs. Green in tow.
Once in their car in the parking lot, Chen turned to Simo and put his finger to his lips. Simo nodded, then said, “I’m fucking hungry… assholes didn’t even offer us a donut.”
“Heading to the nearest restaurant.” Chen smiled and started the car.
It was raining cold hail… in June… in Hell’s Kitchen.
Jessie chuckled at the thought, then groaned in pain.
She looked down, the park lighting illuminated the red drops of her blood falling away from her hand and onto the white, hail-covered grass.
She did it. She got the bastard… she stumbled through the darkness of Central Park, right off Columbus Circle.
She found a park bench and sat down hard.
She opened her black combat flak jacket and, with a small flashlight, she examined her injury.
“Fuck…” The bullet penetrated the flak jacket and her ballistic vest. No doubt the bullet passed through her lung.
If she didn’t get medical aid soon, she was dead.
She pulled out a battle dressing bandage and got it over her entry wound, while stifling her gasps of pain.
The idea of sitting here and letting them find her suddenly sounded good. Maybe she would die before they got here… she did leave an awful mess in the basement and in the back of Murphy’s Pub. She smiled at her plan and how well it worked.
After shooting up the basement, she started a fire with a Molotov and caught all of Danny’s men with her Dragunov sniper rifle as they spilled out into the back alley.
Except for the wild round that caught her, her plan went down perfectly.
She smiled with grim satisfaction as she recalled her bullet taking off Danny’s entire arm.
But the coup de grave, as she liked to refer to it, was telling Spillane who was killing him and burying her knife deep into his cock and balls.
He screamed like a bleating goat until he bled out.
He deserved everything he got, she mused.
She wished she could have found all his stashed girls and set them free, like Tatiana…
but it wasn’t going to happen. Not with her injury.
She would wait until they came for her… but she needed to do one more thing before she died.
She got up with a new sense of urgency and began trekking back toward Victor’s building, cell phone in hand.
“S—Simo?” said the voice in his ear, and his heart stopped.
It was Jessie.
“JESSIE? Where are you?” Simo yelled into his phone.
“It’s so, so good to hear your voice again, Simo. I saw you… I saw you at your club. You looked so tired… I’m so sorry, the woman you had to kill was my fault.”
“Jessie! Stop. Please, where are you?”
“It’s too late, Simo… I took a round. Fucker… went through my vest. Sound familiar?” She laughed, then began coughing. “I need to tell you… something. Something I promised not to say… please release me from that stupid promise before I go! Please!”
“Stop. Jessie, they know it was you…”
“My plan… who is coming for me? Contractor or FBI?”
“Me.”
“You?” The line went silent for a long moment. “It makes sense. It’s better for everyone that way. I prefer that it is you. Please make it quick.”
“Jessie, stop this. Tell me where you are; let’s talk.”
“Across the street from where that cunt Peter Queen is lying dead. Fifth floor, room 502. I’m alone, for now. Now, release me from my promise!” she gasped.
“Maybe when I see you… I need you to hang on! Jessie…”
“Fine,” she said and disconnected.
“Fourteen minutes out.” Chen winked and held up four fingers as he accelerated their new rental car down Columbus Avenue.
Simo nodded. “How much longer until we get there?” Simo asked loudly.
“Maybe twelve minutes, depending on traffic and this weather,” Chen replied.
“Move!” Simo replied.
Within minutes, Chen parked in a ‘no parking zone’ and got out.
He took off his CIA security ID card and with it the hidden listening device that was in the lapel clip.
Simo did the same and shut the door quietly.
When they were out of earshot, they walked toward the entrance to the five-story walk-up.
“Chen, cover the rear. I have to do this myself. Understood?”
“You should let me come up…”
Simo held up his hand. “Live or die, it’s my choice. I ask this of you as my friend. Theo would never have understood; I hope that you do.”
Chen stared at Simo for a moment. “I will give you five minutes. It is all I can do.”
“Thanks.”
Simo pressed the button that read 502. “Come in,” came Jessie’s voice from the speaker.
“On my way up. I’m alone.”
“It will be good to see you.”
The door buzzed, and Simo raced inside and up the five sets of stairs. He saw the door, and his training told him to stand off to the side as he knocked. Live or die, he thought, and stood directly in front of the door and knocked.
“It’s open, Simo…”