The Hitman: Dirty Rotters (25 page)

Sally!

“
Where is she?”

His answer was a punch to my gut. It
was quick and devastating. I doubled over and nearly collapsed,
unable to breathe. I heard the door open then felt a few hands grab
ahold of me. Russians were escorting me out. My eyes teared up and
I was gasping, gulping in air frantically as if I had been drowning
and just surfaced. I stood upright and noticed Jeff Dimeglio
smiling, trailing us.

We walked out of the room and back
towards the staircase. I saw The Bear walk to the other closed door
where Ivana went in. Andrik stopped Jeff Dimeglio and I heard them
whispering. I turned back to see Andrik hand Jeff an envelope.
Money. Probably for my capture. Maybe for my death.

Now or never.

Two Russians were right behind me. The
one on my right was fairly close. I turned quick and jammed my
right elbow into his nose then sent my left fist to the other’s
chin. Success. They fell back in screams of pain and surprise. I
bolted for the closed door. I screamed for Sally and Palo as if
they were battle cries. I made it to the door and turned the
doorknob, pushing the door in before anyone stopped me. Behind me I
heard several voices screaming. But I saw inside the room. And I
saw what I needed to see.

It was a bedroom, similar to the
other. The Bear was at the far end of the room looking down at
Palo, his face in shock when he saw me. I also saw Sally Rhode on a
bed. She wasn’t moving. Her left shoulder was bandaged up. Ivana
was walking to the door and stopped midstride. She did nothing but
stare at me in shock. I think there were two other women on the far
bed, but I didn’t have time to get a good look. I went down
hard.

Black boots were kicking me in the
head and chest. Russians. They were relentless. I heard a lot of
screams then. Men and women alike. As I hit the ground and right
before it was lights out, I made eye contact with Palo. The relief
in her eyes turned to worry. The Bear was racing towards me, but I
kept my eyes on hers.

The kicking to my stomach stole the
air from my lungs. But it was the boot to my head that sent me
spinning into unconsciousness.

My last thoughts were wondering why
all the women were in bras and panties. Except for
Ivana.

Chapter 20

I was dizzy.

When my eyes opened, I saw
Andrik holding a black cloth sack in front of me. It had a
drawstring around the opening and he was widening the hole. Jeff
Dimeglio was taping my hands behind me. We were in the garage, with
Jeff’s car behind me. There were two black Rolls-Royces as well. I
looked ahead to Andrik as he smiled coldly. He had a scar on his
left hand and maybe some fingernail claw marks under his right
eye.
Anna
. He put
the sack over my head but left the drawstring loose.

I saw nothing. My head throbbed. My
chest and back ached. I heard a car door open then I heard Andrik
say, “I will send some men with you. There will be no mistakes this
time.”

Jeff Dimeglio said, “Whatever,
man.”

Then I was forced into the backseat of
Jeff’s LeSabre. My head was getting warm. There was no fresh air to
breathe. I heard the driver’s door open, a body get in, then the
door shut. It was Jeff. He was muttering to himself, annoyed by the
help Andrik was sending. He didn’t need help, he thought. He
certainly didn’t care for the Russians.

“
I work alone,” he
finished.

Just then the other three doors opened
and bodies crammed in. My guess was three Russians and no more.
Most cars didn’t hold more than five adults. The car started. Jeff
Dimeglio sighed. I got comfortable and took a nap.

A sharp smack to the face woke me. The
nap was fine but it didn’t cure my headache. I could taste the
blood in my mouth right away. I could smell oil and grease and some
other chemicals in the air. Nothing like women’s perfume. Nothing
pleasant.

My left eye was swollen, partially
closed. It stung like hell. I could see well enough to make out my
surroundings. We were in another abandoned building, blue collar
undoubtedly. Probably a place where steel and iron were cut and
bent and welded. I saw Jeff Dimeglio sitting in a small wooden
chair in front of me with a nine millimeter lying on the concrete
beside his right foot.

I was in a chair as well. My hands
were taped together behind me with my arms behind the back of the
chair. The wooden chair was for a child. It was small and narrow,
short to the floor, with most of its original red color faded away.
I didn’t fit it well. It was very uncomfortable.

I saw the cloth sack on the cement
floor beside Jeff’s shoes. His help wasn’t around. We were
alone.

“
Where’s Andrik’s men?” I
smirked, “In the trunk, perhaps?”

He smirked back. “Outside. I’ll call
if I need them. But I won’t need them. I don’t like them. I’m not
down with all that torture bullshit they want done. It’s not
professional.”

“
Such a classy
guy.”

“
Not really. But if you’re
going to kill somebody, I believe it’s best to just get at it, get
it done and over with. Quicker the better. I don’t need all that on
my conscious. I need to be able to sleep at night.”

“
Can’t just buy a new
mattress?”

“
You got a real smartass
way. I admire that. That’s why the boot-kickers are standing
outside yanking their chains.”

I said nothing. I was busy planning,
for once.

“
You poked the bees nest
back there, cowboy. Nobody does that to The Bear. Not without
consequences. Not smart, man. What the hell were you
thinking?”

“
Same thing I’m thinking
right now.”

“
Still think it’s going to
happen?”

I nodded. “I’ll kill him.”

“
I hate to break your
heart, but that illusion you have interferes with my reality.” He
gave me a sympathetic smile. “The fat one paid me upfront. Done
deal. It’s a business thing.”

“
Why not find a real job?
Can’t say
paper or
plastic?
”

Jeff Dimeglio smiled. “Too bad I like
you. Makes it harder sometimes.”

“
I don’t like you at
all.”

He laughed. He stood up and walked
behind me. I stared forward. The nearest wall was about twenty
yards away. The ceiling was high, full of holes. Light spilled in
through the broken windows. The walls looked like aluminum siding,
faded white. The cement floor had large dark stains everywhere. I
stared at his handgun. It had a long silencer. I thought of the
blood splatter on Sally’s wall.

Then he punched me in the back of my
head.

He walked around to the front of me as
I pulled my head back upright. It stung a little. He didn’t use all
his force. “Russians are crazy. They hate cops. And they’re sick
with their torture machines. Just sick. Plus they kick a lot. I
prefer bullets.”

Another punch to my head, just above
my right eye. I yelled. That one hurt. Jeff kept circling me.
Punching me and talking. I didn’t care for his talking. But I
figured I’d make it worth my time.

“
What are they going to do
with the women?”

He stopped in front of me. “Selling
them to some Russian. He’s flying in tonight to take them
back.”

Another punch. I recovered, gathered
myself, and asked another question. “When?”

“
Midnight.”

Another punch. A shock of pain.
Another question. “Where?”

My head was knocked back the other
way. I held back my scream. But it hurt. “Don’t know. I don’t plan
on being around. They paid me to kill you and to get them a few
more women. The fat one gave me a list. Told me to hurry up. Told
me to make you suffer. A lot. You embarrassed him. I liked that.
Too bad for you.”

I kept him talking, trying to figure
out how I was going to get his gun and shoot him.

“
What if I paid you to kill
them?”

Silence.

“
Double.”

Nothing.

“
Triple.”

“
You can’t be serious,
cowboy. You don’t have that kind of cash. If you did, you wouldn’t
be driving that old El Camino and dating that horse of a
woman.”

“
Triple. Final
offer.”

“
You don’t even know what
he’s paying me.”

“
Triple. For the last
time.”

“
That’d be close to five
million cash.”

“
Fine.”

“
Where would you get that?
Coffee can on top of the fridge? Get serious cowboy.” He got quiet
then. I could almost feel him weighing the pros and cons. “You know
I’d have to see that kind of money first. Can you do
that?”

I nodded.

Another pause.

I said nothing.

“
Must be your lucky day.
Call me intrigued.” He laughed. “Maybe you’re a real cowboy after
all.”

“
I prefer
angel.”

He stayed behind me. I felt him
getting close to me. Real close. My left ear felt his warm breath
as he whispered, “If you don’t have the money, you will
suffer.”

I took a breath, leaned down, then
quickly thrust my aching head back into his face with the intent of
shattering his nose and sending bone fragments into his eyes. I
heard cartilage explode. I heard him stumble and go down. I jumped
and came down at an angle, cracking the chair’s legs loose and
unhinging the backrest. I watched Jeff scramble around with blood
pouring out of his nose as I used my hands to push my body upright
and slid my lower half through them, bringing my arms in front of
me. Before I stood, I grabbed a chair leg with both hands and stood
like a batter with no outs and bases loaded.

Jeff came at me quickly. I swung. I
assumed he couldn’t see what was happening until the chair leg was
smashing into his ribcage. He screamed and went down hard. He
scrambled to his feet, wiping his face against his sweatshirt. He
was a mess.

Jeff lunged at me. I raised my bat up
high and swung down hard, but I was too late. The hitman tackled me
down to the cement floor and wrapped his thick fingers around my
neck. He put his body weight into it, pressing down hard and
squeezing. My hands were above my head, fumbling across the cement
in a frantic search for anything to stab him with. I grabbed the
first thing I made contact with. It was soft. I knew right
away.

With both hands holding the cloth sack
wide open, I flung my arms forward and quickly slid the sack over
his head. I yanked hard on the string, tightening it. Jeff took one
hand off my neck to attempt to remove the sack. But doing so
allowed me to breathe again. So I did. And I yelled
hard.

“
Get in here! Help
me!”

Jeff Dimeglio struggled for a second,
then stopped as my words registered. But it was too late. The door
burst open immediately and the Russians sprinted in, sending
vicious kicks to his head. The first kick sent his body sprawling
backward with a loud crack. I assumed Jeff’s skull snapped from the
first vertebra. The next few kicks finished the job. The flurry of
kicks and stomps afterward were merely out of their hatred for
cops. At that moment I was glad we had looked so much
alike.

They paid no attention to me. I stood
and turned away while they beat the hitman unmercifully. I freed my
hands as the Russians continued their assault, probably waiting for
someone of a higher rank to tell them when to stop. That wasn’t
going to happen.

I turned back once to see Jeff’s body
slumped face down across a giant black stain in the cement and the
Russians taking turns kicking him in the ribcage. I could almost
see the mess spilling out from under the cloth sack.

I scooped up Jeff’s gun and fired
until the gun was empty. Eight rounds. At five feet away I didn’t
miss. Three dead Russians piled down on top of Jeff Dimeglio’s
motionless body. It happened quickly. But I didn’t feel any regret
this time. I wasn’t turning cold. I wasn’t trembling. Instead I was
burning with rage. Rotters got what they deserved. I did what had
to be done.

Besides, I couldn’t take any kicks to
the head.

I tossed the gun then checked Jeff’s
pulse. I didn’t need to. It was just precautionary. He wasn’t the
sort of guy I wanted showing up at my house unexpectedly. But he
was as dead as the Russians with chests like Swiss
cheese.

Time to go.

I moved quickly to the door, outside
to the LeSabre, inside to start the engine, right foot pounded the
gas pedal flat as my right hand slammed it in reverse, and the
front tires left gravel flying as the car tore away from the
building like a bullet Jeff wished he had used to begin
with.

The sun was directly overhead. I had
until midnight to find the women. But I didn’t feel safe. I needed
guns. The only logical place I had to turn to was Sally’s. I was
going to load up heavy there and maybe stumble across a clue as to
where she was. I needed some help. I needed a miracle.