22. Alex #2
“If not,” I respond, “it’ll be fun breaking him while we get him to talk. I saw a service elevator down the hall. Probably leads to the alley.”
“Roger that,” he said. “I’ll get him in the elevator.”
“I’ll get the car.”
I toss a bucket of hot water in his face.
Slavik’s spy jolts awake, gasping, sputtering and yelling.
He’s tied to a chair in the cellar of one of my warehouses, which Rikki objected to.
“It’s better to find someplace isolated.
” That’s all fine and good at three in the morning, but we’re in the city in broad daylight.
I told him we need something close by with thick walls.
And so, here we are in the Central Park warehouse basement, Slavik’s right hand man tied up and soaked with scalding hot water. He blinks through the pain, peering at me and Rikki as we stand before him.
“Rise and shine, comrade,” I say in Russian.
His eyes dart from me to Rikki and I know that in this moment, he knows he’s fucked. “Let me go,” he says immediately. “Let me go and I’ll talk to Slavik about going easy—”
I slap him across the face. “Shut your fucking mouth, Irkutsk scum,” I growl at him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll answer every question we have for you. Or else…” I look back at Rikki, who, as always, is ready to lay into this guy at my command.
He swallows hard and a slow smile spreads across my face. He’s scared shitless.
“You know that we call my brother chudovishche, don’t you?” I say to him. “The Monster. That’s not just because he’s a big, scary looking guy, you know. It’s because of his brutality. My brother has a P.H.D in breaking skulls.”
“H-His reputation is known,” he says as his knees start to shake.
“Good. This is going to work really simply. No complicated torture rituals. No pulling out fingernails or using rusty nails on your balls. I’m just going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them.
If you don’t or give me an answer I don’t like, then you’ll have to face the monster. Sound fair?”
He doesn’t answer. He’s looking at me with a mix of fear and disbelief. Like I couldn’t possibly do something like allow my brother to pound him into dust.
“First question,” I say. “Where is Slavik going?”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do.” I just wait for him to answer without elaboration.
He stammers for a moment, then he says, “I… I don’t know.”
I step to the side and Rikki steps in. This man starts screaming before Rikki lands the first punch. I let my brother beat the shit out of him for a few seconds before I say, “All right, that’s enough.”
Rikki steps back and Slavik’s spy’s face is a mess on one side. The bone under his eye is bloodied and crushed and his eye is already swelling shut. His bloodied mouth shakes and he says, “Please… please, no more…”
“Where is Slavik going?” I ask again.
He takes a second, and I can see Rikki bouncing on the balls of his feet out of the corner of my eye. “He-he’s going to the safe house,” he says.
“And where is the safehouse?”
“Please,” he says again, “if I tell you, he’ll have me killed. I can’t tell you.”
I nod to Rikki and he steps forward. His spy starts to weep.
This pattern doesn’t go on for long. Slavik’s sovietnik is pretty weak and he breaks after the third round of Rikki’s fists.
He tells us where Slavik is hiding—a little apartment on the south side.
After he talks, he hangs his battered and swelling head, his breath labored as blood drips from his face to the floor.
An opportunity appears before me. A sovietnik is usually the key to a Pakhan’s secrets. Or at least his gameplan in a war. Rikki’s wiping the blood from his hands with a rag. “Come on,” he says. “If we hurry, we can get this done before lunch.”
“Hold on.” I step up to him and kneel before him. He lifts his head, peering at me through two swollen eyes.
“So, your boss's whole plan all along was to try and wipe us out?” I ask him. He just stares at me. “I believe that was a question. You might want to answer it.”
He swallows and shakily says, “You… you will pay… for this. All of you. Putting the… the blame… on him… You won’t… You won’t get away… with it.”
I tilt my head and glance back at Rikki, who’s standing stock still with interest. “What are you talking about?”
“Your… father… You blamed the Irkutsks… We had nothing to do with it.”
“Right. And someone else attacked my brother and our businesses?”
“No… no, that was us.” His shoulders start to shiver as a rattling laugh comes out of him. He smiles with bloodied teeth at me. “You… you have no idea what’s going on, do you? Not a clue.”
“Maybe you could explain it,” I say, my anger starting to rumble inside me.
He takes a breath and his smile slips from his beaten face.
“The plan was to destroy you… from the inside… With his daughter. She… she was supposed… She was supposed to give him information… but of course she didn’t have…
didn’t have the stomach for it… I told him…
I told him she wouldn’t be able to do it… ”
I have to ball up my fist to keep from slapping him again. “Your boss didn’t count on his daughter being smart enough to know better,” I say.
He just stares and through all the blood and bruises, I see him regarding me with what looks like pity. “She was always such a pretty girl. It’s a shame that she let you corrupt her.”
“Watch what you say about my wife,” I growl at him.
“Your wife… is the reason… you will all die. Slavik will never allow… his bloodline to mix with the poisoned blood of the Molotovs. Never.”
An ice-cold feeling rushes over me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He smiles his bloody-toothed smile at me and says, “You don’t know… That’s funny. That’s actually very funny.”
I glare at him as he sits back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling.
Then he says, “Slavik has always had eyes on his daughter,” he says.
“It’s been a standing order for me since she turned thirteen.
I am always watching her. Whenever she leaves your home, I have eyes following her and I report back to Slavik… ”
He pauses and brings his head back down, staring directly at me like a demon peering at me through the gates of hell.
“One day, not so long ago, I received word that she took out the trash in your home. Seems like a normal activity for a young wife… Except she never takes the trash out of your home. She’s a wealthy woman.
Why would she ever think to do such a thing…
unless there was something she was trying to hide from you? ”
He leans forward. “Have you guessed it yet? Or should I go on?”
I don’t answer him. I’m doing everything I can to keep from pulling my gun and shooting him in the head.
“I had my man go through that trashcan,” he says. “And he found a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.”
I stand up slowly. Nona’s… pregnant? I look back at Rikki and he stares back, open-mouthed with shock.
That’s what he meant. Smert Rodu Rostovyk. My bloodline is about to continue…
“Slavik would never let your spawn live,” he says, then he shakes his head and in a sad tone, mutters, “Such a pretty girl… Too bad she has to die.”
I pull my gun without thinking and open fire, shooting him in his head… then again twice in the chest.
I’m standing here with a smoking gun in my hand, looking down at this son of a bitch…
“Alex?” I hear behind me. “You good?”
“No.” I don’t know how to reconcile these feelings. Being a father is something I never expected to happen. Not now at this point in my life. I always thought it had passed me by.
But now that it’s here… I understand. A cold dread fills my bones.
Rikki, Me, and Yeva are secondary targets. Nona is in real danger.
I holster my gun and I yank at Rikki’s sleeve as I pass him by. “We gotta move. Now.” As soon as we’re outside, my phone chirps. It’s Kostya.
I need you at Grand Central Station, ASAP. It’s about Nona.