The Hitman: Dirty Rotters (24 page)

I smiled against the duct tape. Things
were turning in my favor.

Adrenaline was pumping quickly through
my bloodstream. I sang along in my head. I didn’t drift into
slumber. I drifted into vengeance. I wasn’t going to sleep. I was
going to be ready.

The car stopped and the radio went
dead. A door opened, then shut. A second later I heard talking a
few feet away. I recognized Jeff Dimeglio’s voice. He was speaking
to a Russian man. I then heard the sounds of chains falling and
dragging across cement, then a squeaky wheel moving where the
chains were. I pictured a chain-linked fence gate with a Russian
guard or two. Made sense. We were in the Red Square, after
all.

The car door opened then shut again,
and the car lurched forward slowly. I think I heard the fence wheel
moving again, along with the chains, but I wasn’t certain. I
figured we were entering in a secret place, kept under close watch,
barricaded with razor wire fence. Probably some killer pit bulls
roaming within. It didn’t matter. I was locked in a
trunk.

The car turned to the right, I slid
with it, and a short distance later the car came to a halt. The
engine died. A door opened then closed. A second door, the back
door on the passenger side opened with a groan. There was movement
in the car. I pictured Jeff crawling inside and picking something
heavy up. A body, perhaps. Sally or Palo. The car didn’t shift
around terribly, so I knew the body wasn’t heavy. It had to be Palo
he was taking out. That left me guessing where Sally
was.

The backdoor shut firm. There were
muffled Russian voices speaking out of earshot. It was dead quiet
otherwise. I lied motionless, waiting.

I closed my eyes and dug deep inside
myself. It was now or never. No more second chances. Do or
die.

I thought of Pamela. The reason I was
here. My body trembled in small violent eruptions of adrenaline. I
buried all the proverbs Little B taught me and let my anger consume
me.

I wrapped my wings around me then,
tight like a blanket. They were black.

Chapter 19

The trunk flew open.

I knew Russian men were standing near
because I had heard them talking. They spoke in short sentences.
They had angry tones and harsh words. They talked about a traitor
and what they thought Andrik and The Bear were going to do to him.
It would be painful, they all agreed. In the end, he would die
screaming to everyone’s delight.

They were talking about me.

Light flooded in when the click
sounded and the trunk flew up and five angry faces looked down on
me. They were ugly, scarred, and pale faces. Faces you knew didn’t
mind a good beating. Like the thought of someone else’s knuckles
cracking against their jaw made them all tingly inside.

“
Up!”

The ugliest one barked at me, but I
did nothing. I assumed he’d see my feet and hands taped up and
figure it out. But he didn’t. Neither did guy number
two.

“
Get up!” the second
followed.

A third guy shoved aside the other
two. This guy was thick like a bodybuilder, like a brick outhouse.
He hoisted me out all by himself. He stood me upright as the
ugliest one used a knife to cut away at the tape around my feet.
They kept my hands and my mouth taped, but I didn’t care. I had
nothing to say anyway.

“
Move!”

I was pushed by the ugliest one. His
eyes were a cold blue and the side of his face looked like it had
been clawed by something big. Maybe a polar bear. Maybe a Siberian
tiger. Maybe his mother.

Another Russian took the lead and we
walked away from the car. Jeff Dimeglio drove a beige Buick
LeSabre, a late nineties model. A good hitman car. You would forget
about it right after you saw it.

A guy was at each side of me. I
assumed the fifth one trailed at a distance in case I got the best
of the one behind me. I did nothing though. One foot after the
other.

We were in a large garage. It was well
lit and empty. It had a smell to it, thick in the air like garbage
or sewer. Ahead of us was a single wooden door. The Russians didn’t
talk. From what I could tell, they weren’t armed. Which may explain
the broken noses and the cauliflower ears.

We reached the door and the first guy
opened it and walked inside. We all followed. It was dark. We were
in a hallway. I could see the far end of the room, it wasn’t big.
It was an office of some sort. There were red carpets hanging on
the walls like enormous pictures. I could smell women’s perfume
lingering. We walked past closed doors and a small open room with a
few circular tables and vending machines before we reached a
stairway leading down. The lower level had a light on further away.
The first guy led us down. He reached the bottom and stood still. I
reached the bottom and stopped next to him. He was looking into the
open area. So I did the same. I turned just in time to see the back
of a blond woman walking into a room in front of Jeff Dimeglio, who
closed the door behind him.

The other woman was Ivana.

Ivana
.

I had forgotten about her. Poor
helpless Ivana. Unable to scream for help. Unable to get away. She
was in the enemy’s possession, along with Palo, Anna, and hopefully
Sally, regretting their choice of hitman.

I was pushed in the back and we began
walking. We went into the open space. It looked like an apartment.
There was a television, a few couches and chairs, off to the side
of that there was a small kitchen setup and on the far wall were
three doors. One which held Ivana and Jeff Dimeglio. I assumed one
was a restroom. Figured that the other would be a
bedroom.

We walked past the black leather
couches and went straight to the door at the right of the room
Ivana was being held in. The lead guy used a key and opened the
door. A guy behind me shoved me inside. I almost fell. The door
shut closed behind me before I could turn back and scowl at him. I
heard the lock click.

The room was lit from lights at the
ceiling. It had a few bunk beds. There was a long dresser with a
giant mirror bolted into the wall above it. There was no closet. No
windows. I saw a hair brush on the dresser. It was full of black
hair. The entire place smelled like a woman. Maybe a few of
them.

I could hear faint female voices
through the wall.

I sat on the closest bed and thought
about taking a nap. Nothing fancy about the bed itself, it was
barely comfortable. Nothing like what Sally had to offer. I lied
down on my left side facing the door and waited.

The door opened almost immediately. I
watched Jeff Dimeglio walk in and shut the door behind him. He wore
a black sweatshirt like mine. I looked at him closely. His eyes
were beady and dark. Sure he had the same stubble that I wore, but
his face was rough. Beneath the hair, he had plenty of acne scars.
He walked leisurely over in front of me and smiled. I didn’t care
for it. I remained lying. I had a headache.

“
Should’a just gave me my
money,” Jeff said as he squatted down in front of me. “What are
you? CIA? FBI? Doesn’t really matter. They both hire me to kill the
other.”

I sat upright. The cop bit was getting
old.

I stared at him hard and used my hands
to slowly peel back the duct tape across my mouth. Hurt like hell,
but I didn’t show it. I could have cried, but instead I said, “I’m
going to kill you.”

Jeff laughed. His voice was low and
raspy. “I don’t think you’ll get the chance, cowboy.”

“
Where’s Palo and
Sally?”

He shrugged casually. His eyes held a
wild look that never changed. “Funny how things turn around on ya.
The cute blond calls and wants a hit done. Wants me to off her old
man. Her own dad. How messed up is that? The money was right
though, so what do I care? Then you come along and take my hit and
my money. I really needed that money, man.” He smiled then. “But
here’s the kicker. This is what you never see coming. Her old man
is now paying me to off you and her. And the money is better, man.
I don’t know who you are, but you really screwed yourself up
bigtime.”

“
You shot Sally. Did you
kill her?”

“
Sally? That the bull cop?
I thought her house would have been a barn. I guess there’s always
more than meets the eye.” More smiling. “I knew you’d go back
there. When I saw you on the street I thought for a second I’d have
to leave you dead on the sidewalk with that old hag watching. But
you just moseyed on by. Gave me plenty of time. Thank
you.”

“
Where’s Anna?”

“
Let it go. It’s over.
Nothing left now but to do the job and get paid.”

“
It’s only just
started.”

“
Out for revenge,
huh?”

“
For justice.”

“
I make my own
justice.”

“
You dug your own
grave.”

“
Look around. Outside that
door are trained killers with eyes on you. It’s over. You did what
you could, cowboy.”

I said nothing. I was counted out.
Judged to be helpless. Everyone makes mistakes. I forgave
him.

Jeff Dimeglio yawned, stood up and
stretched. “You kept me up all night. I’m going to go take a nap.
I’ve got a very busy day ahead. You put me behind schedule, but the
Russians are happy with what I’ve brought for them so far. They’ll
be here soon enough. Then we’ll see what happens.”

“
What is this
place?”

“
The Russian goons tell me
it’s a holding place for the women. Get ‘em cleaned up and ready
for delivery.” He almost looked upset. “It’s despicable. But money
talks and the Russians talk big.”

“
You’re as guilty as they
are.”

“
We’re all guilty, cowboy.
Get some rest. You’re going to have a bad day.”

“
Where’s Palo?”

“
You’re not a real cowboy
and this ain’t no happy ending.” He shook his head at me. “You’re
nobody’s hero.”

Jeff turned and walked out. I heard
the door lock. I lied back again and thought that sleep might be a
good thing after all. I waited for a minute, to see if anyone else
was going to come in, but no one did, so I allowed myself to drift
away.

When I awoke the room past the door
was loud with voices. I recognized Andrik and Jeff, but there were
several others and some were speaking in Russian. I used my teeth
to bite into the duct tape around my wrists and worked on it until
my hands were free. I walked over to the mirror. I had a nice gash
above my left eye, crusted over with dried blood. I looked like I
had been beaten up pretty bad. Still had all my teeth
though.

I paced the short room impatiently. I
was nervous. A smarter man would have spent some time figuring out
a plan. I took a nap and thought about how I looked.

About ten minutes later the door
clicked open and in walked a few Russian guys, one of whom I
remember seeing from the police station, with Jeff Dimeglio,
Andrik, and behind them came in the biggest man I ever saw. He was
about seven foot tall and about four hundred pounds. He had to duck
to get into the room. The wild in his eyes made Jeff’s look like
daisies. He wore velvet red sweats and a matching fleece jacket.
Not flattering. He wore gaudy gold rings on his right hand and a
gold necklace that looked like a yacht’s anchor chain. His head was
shaved clean and beneath his nostrils lied a line of fine black
hairs. His eyebrows slanted down angrily. He was a beast of a man.
Menacing. Uptight. Impatient. Definitely the one making the
calls.

He barreled into the room like a
wrestler heading into the ring. The others scattered off to the
side and I had to assume I was now face to face with The Bear. I
could hear Andrik huffing and puffing, breathing quickly in through
his nose. No one else made a sound. The Bear stepped into my
personal space and looked down on me like I had toppled over one of
his cubs.

“
I will spill your blood
today!” His voice was deep and angry. “You are police?”

“
I’m not a cop.” My
automated response. “Where’s my friends?”

He stepped closer. We were almost
touching. He towered over me. His left hand came up and he rubbed
his chin. His hand could squeeze my head like it was a grapefruit.
I didn’t care. I stepped closer, pressing my chest against his
stomach. I could feel the fetid breath pluming out from his giant
nostrils like a dragon. He said, “You cost me time and you killed
my men!”

“
And you’re
next.”

The others were in disbelief. The Bear
lowered his head and pressed his nose against mine. His eyes were
filled with rage. “You are going to die for this. I am going to rip
you wide open and let my tiger chew on your spine!

He kept still for a moment, longer
that I cared, then stood erect. His hands turned to fists that
could smash concrete. He yelled back to his cohorts in Russian.
They were to take me away from him and I wasn’t going to be
returning. A few Russians walked around and stood behind me. Andrik
walked for the door. The Bear said, “Your cop friend is going to
die today. I will decorate the walls with her blood.”