The Hitman: Dirty Rotters (17 page)

His man went to work. Both hands on
the turning wheel. It made a squeaking sound as if it needed oil.
Andrik was to my right and just a step behind me. I looked away to
the left, to the cop standing and the two gunmen beside him. The
screaming came almost immediately. I had never heard anything so
terrible.

Andrik’s chuckle was
sickening.

More grinding of the wheel lowering
the weight.

More screaming.

More chuckling.

Andrik had a handful of crackers and
began eating.

My blood was boiling.

I knew the prayer the cop had said
would have to be answered through me. I had to act. I had to do
something and fast.

A lot of things went through my head
then.

Nothing like what went through the
cop’s.

Andrik yelled at the cop, “Now you
feel your head crush into your brain!” He smiled dangerously. “You
see, Hitman! This is what happens to those who oppose
us!”

The standing cop went wild. His
mumbled voice belled hard and he thrashed about trying in vain to
snap the handcuffs before one of Andrik’s men slammed a two-by-four
into his gut. He doubled over, struggling for air.

“
Wait!” I said to
Andrik.

Everyone paused. A lot of confused
looks shot at me. Andrik was beside himself. His look asked a
thousand questions. None of them made me look reliable.

My look was hard. My smile was one he
would respect. I said, “Get his head out of there.”

“
What?”

“
Start with his feet
first.” I said. “Then his hands and then his elbows.”

Andrik looked uncertain. Maybe he just
hadn’t thought of it.

“
Let me handle this. This
is what I’m good at. This is my job. I hate cops.”

Andrik looked into my eyes. A lesser
man would have folded and ran for his life. I stood there and
absorbed the malice and the cunning. I held fast. Andrik smiled.
His fat head nodded. I saw no neck.

“
Make them suffer,” he
whispered in delight. His fat hand came up and he waved off his man
at the wheel. “Get him out.”

His man went back to work, reversing
the wheel, raising the weight. No one spoke. We all listened to the
wood squeaking and the cop crying.

I had my hand around my gun and a
shaking finger on the trigger. I could turn and shoot Andrik first
without taking my hand out of my pocket. Then as many gunmen as I
could before they opened fire. If I stayed in the center of the
circle, their crossfire could take a few out as well. I knew I
couldn’t be quick enough to get them all. I wasn’t even a great
shot to begin with. It was a fool’s plan at best. It was the best
plan I could think of.

It was going to take a
miracle.

“
I like you more and more,
Hitman.” Andrik patted my shoulder. He noticed my right hand in my
coat pocket. His eyes flickered with suspicion. “You go to him and
do the job. I stay back and watch.”

A phone rang. Andrik reached within
his black suit pocket and pulled out a phone and spoke in Russian
briefly. He was being told to do something. I recognized the facial
expressions of a worker taking orders from his boss. The Bear had
called.

Andrik nodded, then ended the call. He
put the phone back into his pocket. He looked upset. Something had
changed. I could see him thinking quickly, reasoning, putting
things together.

He looked at me and said, “You finish
this. I go to more important matters.”

I nodded.

“
Get the girls tonight. No
more delays.”

Andrik called out a few names and four
of his gunmen broke the circle and followed him out the
door.

That left me with some room for
error.

I smiled and walked over to the cop
standing with a sack on his head. He was a tough guy. He would be
scared out of his mind. Scared enough to do anything I told him. I
was relying on that.

I grabbed the sack and lifted it up
off his head. A confused look mirrored back at me.

The cop was Frank.

Chapter 13

I was stunned.

For several months after Pamela came
up missing the terrible image of her frightened face would own me.
I would lie awake unable to rid the awful image from my mind. Eyes
so beautiful that they could break my heart, now were filled a fear
so deep that it strangled the air in my windpipe.

I tried over and over again to
convince myself that the image was false. That I had created it out
of my own fears. Of course I failed; I had always thought the
worst. That helpless look, full of terrifying uncertainty, never
left me.

Frank wore that look.

For a split second it was Pamela I was
staring at.

Confusion led to uncertainty and then
wonder as he recognized me. He had no idea what to think then.
Baffled, just like Andrik was watching the cop pray. His nose was
bleeding and around his eyes were darkened, bruised and swelling. A
strip of shiny grey tape covered his mouth. He was sweating hard.
He was fighting to keep a shred of dignity.

As softly as I could, I whispered,
“Trust me.”

I punched him in the gut quickly. He
doubled over with a groan. The surprised look in his eyes instantly
changed to anger. I had to make a good show of it to gain trust
with my new comrades. As I walked away from Frank, the other four
watched me close. Distrust was in their eyes. I was an outsider.
They were there simply to make sure things went as planned. I had
to earn their trust. Frank took one for the team.

“
Put his foot in there,” I
told Andrik’s men.

Three of the four Russians removed the
cop from the device and turned him around, setting his left foot in
position under the weight. The fourth Russian stood watching them
struggle. He gave orders and direction. The others obeyed without
comment.

It wasn’t a smooth transition. The
cop’s hefty size made things difficult for them. They were working
hard and sweating freely. The cop had both hands on his head and
crying. He looked like a headache commercial in Mexico.

Finally they had his foot in and
secured it. One of them went to work turning the wheel. The
squeaking was hurting my ears. I said to them, “Stop.”

The wheel man turned to look at the
lead Russian for approval, then to me in unison with the other
three. The leader didn’t like me. I could see it in his beady eyes.
And if he didn’t like me, the other three were sure to
follow.

The leader spoke to them in Russian
and the wheel man went back to work. He was told to. He was told
not to listen to me. He was told to do the job and no more
stopping.

“
I said stop.” I stared the
leader down hard.

“
Nyet.”

“
Da.”

He shook his head. He gently tapped
his machine gun. I said, “I want the cop to do it. He’s going to
kill his friend. After that, he’s all yours.”

He stared at me. I heard Frank mumble
something behind me. I didn’t turn. My eyes held on to the
penetrating gaze of the leader. The wheel man kept turning. The
weight was about six inches from the cop’s foot. A slow process. It
was called a torture device for a reason. You were meant to endure
a great pain, not die quickly.

“
Andrik put me in charge.”
I said. I stepped closer to him. I stopped within a foot. His eyes
were green. His eyebrows were blond. He had several small scars on
his face. Maybe someone slammed his head into a pane of glass.
Maybe it would happen again in a few minutes.

I pulled out my right hand
from my pocket. My fingers were wrapped tightly around the nine
millimeter, finger on the trigger. I pointed it at his chest. I
gave him a look like I was ready when he was. His rebellious look
turned a short moment later. He told his man to stop. His gun
lowered. He gave me a look that said
go
ahead
.

I said, “Where’s the cops’ guns and
belts?”

“
In the car,” the leader
said.

“
Take his handcuffs off.” I
motioned to Frank, but I kept my eyes on the leader. He looked
away, said something in Russian to his men, then the short one
raced outside. He ran back inside a moment later with two belts in
his hands, two guns, a set of handcuffs, and somewhere in the mess
were the keys to unlock Frank.

He handed the items to me. I didn’t
take them. I made him set them on the floor. He followed orders.
But he didn’t like me. I wasn’t going to win them over. That was
fine with me though.

“
Let the cop kill his
comrade,” I said. I smiled to the Russians.

I turned to Frank. “Come here. Put
your hands on the wheel and start turning it. You move, and I’ll
shoot your knee caps off.”

One of the Russians, the short one,
the one who ran outside, moved over and behind Frank with a set of
keys. He unlocked the handcuffs, removed them, and stepped back
quickly with a smile. Frank didn’t move. He only stared at
me.

“
If you don’t do this, then
you’re going to die.” I said.

The Russians held their guns pointed
at him. They formed a circle around him as he moved closer to the
device. I stepped back and away. With the slightest movement of my
left foot, I nudged the gun belt close to the cop with a growing
migraine. He looked up at me. He didn’t know what to think. I had
never met him. For all he knew I was one of the bad guys. Maybe the
baddest guy.

I looked at him like
get the gun now
. My
eyebrows raised quizzically as if to ask him what the hell was he
waiting for? My foot slid it right next to his hand as if to
emphasize the instruction.

All eyes were on Frank. His big hands
wrapped around the wooden wheel and clutched it tight as if he were
trying to snap it in half. If he had tried, it didn’t work. All he
succeeded in was gathering more attention. I saw his eyes look down
for a split second, then up to me. He knew. He also knew enough to
keep the focus on himself. So he grunted and carried on as if
turning the wheel was nearly impossible for him. He moved slowly
though, and that fooled no one.

The leader stepped closer to Frank. He
was suspicious. He stared at Frank as if he were a riddle and the
answer was someplace right in front of him, but he couldn’t put a
finger on it quite yet.

I stole a glance down
quickly. The cop had his gun out, a fourth generation Glock 17. I
saw the
Gen4
rollmark on the slide. Sally had two in her bedroom. I took
one. It was in my hand. He had his snug against his side. He was
quiet. His breathing was calm. He was ready.

I stepped away from him, talking loud,
coming to Frank, opposite of the leader, who was eager to unload
twenty rounds into Frank’s chest. I had my gun out already. I held
it head level and stepped close to Frank. This was it. Win or
lose.

“
Turn that damn wheel! Do
it!” I screamed. I gathered attention. No one else heard the safety
switch on the Glock click off. “I am going to start shooting on
three!”

Frank did nothing.

The Russians were anxious. They looked
jumpy watching the show.

“
One…Two…” I said. Frank
closed his eyes. “If you don’t move you’re going to die.” I saw
Frank’s eyes turn to me. I nodded. “Three!”

Frank stepped back just as gunfire
erupted.

I wasn’t sure if the cop fired before
I did or not. Frank’s head ducked back and I saw the look of
surprise in the leader’s eyes right before I fired. The Glock kept
firing. Two shots to my one. Then three. Then four. Then five.
About ten rounds from a machine gun went off in a second. Bullets
ripped through the vast space and then into the walls tearing into
the sheet metal. The echo was loud.

I fell onto Frank. I used my body to
cover him. Chips of cement exploded right beside us. But the
shooting stopped. Just as fast as it all started, it ended. No
bullet holes in me. No stinging sensations. I could still see and
breathe. I was fine. Frank was too.

I turned back over my right shoulder
and looked for the other cop. He was sitting upright, Glock held
tight, barrel smoking, eyes alert and scanning quickly. He was
shaking terribly. But he was fine. He was alive. Dead Russians
surrounded us.

“
Get this damn thing off
me!” he said.

I scrambled up to my feet. Frank did
the same. He was trying to talk at the same time he was peeling
back the tape from his mouth. I went to work on the wheel, but
Frank pushed me aside with ease and took over.

“
Go!”

“
He’s getting away!” the
other cop yelled.

I did a count. There were three dead
Russians. One was missing.

I turned in a circle. I saw no one.
The warehouse was empty. The cop with the headache pointed to the
door we walked in through. I raced for the door and left the two
cops together. By the time I reached the door I heard the
Escalade’s door slam shut five yards past the entrance. I opened
the door. Bullets sprayed instantly into the building beside me. I
dove back and hit the floor, rolling aside, then springing to my
feet. Bullets ripped through the door in a fast explosion of lead
and aluminum. Then it went quiet. He’s out of ammo, I
thought.