37
Fuck it!
Aleksa
A creak made me suddenly go on alert.
"But who do we have here?" thundered a voice too close for comfort.
The guy who had just discovered me was dressed in black. He held an apple in one hand and a knife in the other, twirling it like a macabre juggler.
He was one of Yuri's men. I knew him, and he knew me.
I assessed the possibility of reaching my weapon before he could raise the alarm or finish me off.
"The plumber. I was told there's a major shit clog in this house."
"Here, the only shit is you, that's why you work for who you work for."
Basile laughed, showing off his peculiar gold teeth. He had caps on both the upper and lower canines.
"Well, it turns out the only stinking ass here is yours, you should be dead alongside that traitor Korolev."
"And that's coming from someone who's going to die in a few seconds... I never liked you, Aleksa. I asked Yuri that once he and his sister finished with your boss, I could personally take care of you and give you one of those tortures you so enjoy." I clenched my fists as I realized I hadn't been wrong in my judgment of R's wife. Now I wished I had been. The blow Romeo was going to receive would be devastating. "You chose the side of the losers. I thought it would take me a little longer to catch you, and look, you came all by yourself to me." He clicked his tongue and threw the apple. "Tell me something. How did you get in? Your retinas aren’t registered in the system."
"I told the cook I came to bring you the balls you're missing to show your faces and not act like snakes behind the back," I quipped.
"In this house, we have plenty of balls; it's not our fault you're gullible. Get your stinking ass up, I want to look you in the eyes when I kill you." Basile waved the knife blade for me to rise. "I love the part of my job where I see the life escape from those I annihilate. Don’t you?"
Yuri's voice was no longer heard. Had he gone inside? Or had he seen us and was coming down?
I was screwed. All I knew was that they had a retinal scan security mechanism at the entrance. I hoped it wasn't placed at the access door, or I’d be really screwed. I had to act fast and get hold of one of his eyes. I doubted he would accompany me willingly.
I stood up slowly, every nerve ending on alert, urging me to be extremely cautious.
"Do you prefer a slow death or a quick one?"
“Given the choice, I prefer yours,” I commented, moving my right hand to my back while raising the left.
I knew he was going to attack me with the knife. After all, his nickname was the Butcher. He had them in all sizes and colors. He handled them with total skill, and if I learned anything in the years we coincided, it was that he always aimed for the neck. I used to remember those kinds of details; you never knew when they might come in handy.
The blade pierced shamelessly through the center of my hand, slicing through it like butter. The sharp tip emerged impudently on the other side, just like that neighbor you don’t invite yet still dares to cross the threshold of your house.
I didn’t wait for him to counterattack. I didn’t even draw the gun, because my mind told me that if I had the damn luck of us not being discovered, I was going to finish Basile before they did.
I kicked him in the balls which made him drop the knife. I twisted the impaled hand and with the protruding end, I slashed his neck ruthlessly. It hurt, though not as much as it did him.
A stream of warm blood hit my face. The Russian clasped his neck while his eyes filled with astonishment as he realized what had happened.
I observed my pierced palm. I hoped it hadn’t severed anything important that would limit my movement. The adrenaline I was secreting had taken care of blocking the pain.
Basile tried to sound the alarm. He couldn’t; only liquid gushed from his throat. I kicked his abdomen with blood spurting profusely from his gullet. He staggered backward, staining the glass as he leaned against it, creating reddish marks that trickled down in rhythm with his descent onto the grass.
I needed the knife to remove his eye; I had to be careful extracting it from my hand if I didn’t want to cause worse damage.
I delicately pulled out the blade, biting back my own scream of pain. The warm blood slid down my forearm, soaking my shirt. As I lowered my hand, the grass continued to stain red. It hurt like hell; I had to plug the wound somehow.
I tore the bottom of my shirt. At this rate, I was going to need a new wardrobe, that is if I managed to get out of this alive.
I tied the strip of fabric around the wound; it looked like a damn chocolate fountain, and I didn’t intend to bleed out before telling R the whole truth; I owed him that.
The Russian had fallen. His body was giving its last spasms as I plunged the blade into the socket. I had no time to waste; every second counted, I wasn’t going to be delicate, he had done worse things.
I removed the eyeball, severing the optic nerves. I needed it to pass the security check. I had no other way out, was too injured to consider another alternative or face Yuri and whatever guys he might have inside the house.
I heard a scream that nearly made me drop to the ground. On the other side of the glass, the maid looked distraught and raised the alarm. Just what I needed!
I grabbed the mobile from the ground and took off running, crossing all the damn hairs on my body hoping they wouldn’t catch me. I heard voices as I reached the access gate. There it was, the damn check.
A bullet grazed my right ear. I couldn’t risk getting a shot in the back. I turned around, drawing the gun and shot as soon as my retinas found the target.
The guy on the terrace fell into the void from my precise shot.
I made up the distance that separated me from freedom. The damn ribs were killing me, the hand wound too, but I preferred it to be them rather than a bullet in my neck.
I reached the scanner and placed the eye on it. I hoped it would work.
A roar caressed my back. It was Yuri. I could recognize that frustrated scream anywhere. I looked to see him raising a machine gun that he intended to riddle me with bullets.
I was lucky the gun jammed for a second, the only one I needed for the door to open and for me to pull the trigger as a farewell. The machine gun fired just as I hid behind the wall.
I ran to the car, started the engine, and floored the accelerator without a second thought. A hail of bullets welcomed me as I passed the front of the house.
The car's body and windows were fucked. The good news was that I was still alive.
I accelerated as much as I could. Knowing them, they wouldn’t be satisfied with me just getting away with what I had discovered.
I had to send the recording to R, before Yuri talked to his sister.
"Hey Siri, send the last video I recorded to Romeo's WhatsApp."
"I'm sorry, I can't send videos."
"Well, that's fucking useless!"
"I suppose you're not in the mood." I looked at the phone flabbergasted by its response.
"No, I'm not in the mood! You're not helping at all!"
"I'm here to help you."
"Well, it doesn't seem like it! You're useless!" I was getting exasperated and couldn’t stop watching the road or the rearview mirrors.
"I don't know how to respond to that."
"Well, fucking great!"
"I'm just trying to do my job. Tell me if there's something else I can help you with."
"Okay, then go fuck yourself," I replied, annoyed.
"I don't know what that means, but if you want, I can look up 'I don’t give a shit about your ass' on the internet."
If I hadn’t needed to send that message, I would have already thrown it out the window. So much for the iPhone and all its crap, but it couldn't send a simple video! After this, I’m switching to Android.
I grabbed the phone cursing because I had a fucking driving school car in front of me not going over twenty miles per hour. I dodged it cursing at all the idiots who would get their licenses.
I managed to enter WhatsApp, find my boss, and hit the microphone.
"R, it’s urgent, I can’t tell you now, but look at what I’m sending without your wife around. I’m headed to your house if they don’t catch me first. Sorry, brother, I wish I could have sent you something else."
I released the button and then attached the video.
A burst of bullets shattered the rear window, hitting me from behind, forcing me to swerve.