by Laura Acton
Kazimir yanked his hand towards him, spilling some of his vodka on his chest before he greedily drank the entire contents. “More,” Kazimir requested.
Makar drank as Dom sauntered over to refill both lowball glasses to the brim with vodka. Returning to his chair, Dom checked the time noting the serum should be taking full effect by now.
“Tell me who ratted me out, and I’ll provide you with the antidote. You don’t have long to decide before the poison is irreversible.” Dom drawled out as he leaned his forearms on the chair back, watching both tossers fight over who drank first.
Winning the tussle with a glare, Makar downed another gulp of the vodka, but as Kazimir jerked his hand toward him to drink, some splashed on his neck. His mouth less parched, Makar asked, “If I tell you, what assurances do we have you will not kill us later?”
A look of consideration on his face, Dom stroked his chin as if in deep thought. His smile turned treacherous. “Frankly, you don’t. You will fear me and what I might do to you for the rest of your bloody lives. You took my children. You gave them to a man who will sell them into slavery. For that alone, I should kill you, but I need the name of the leak.”
Lying smoothly to the brothers, Dom said, “Finding the SAS leak is more important than finding my daughters. You give me that information and you buy your lives ... for now. But you gobshites cross me again, you die with a bullet to the brain which you’ll never see coming. You bellends, there isn’t a place on this earth you will be safe. Not even in the deepest, darkest shite hole, you can find. I will find you, and you will pay with your life.”
“We tell, we live.” Kazimir finished his vodka and let the glass fall on the bed as he glanced at Makar.
Makar swallowed the last of the vodka and chucked the tumbler at the wall in anger, shattering the glass. Makar turned to glower at Savoy. This man could’ve killed them while they were sedated. He didn’t want to die any more than Kazimir did. He owed no allegiance to the mole, and if he sold her out, he would save his life.
They still had other targets from operation Sandsnake to go after to extort money. Someday they would figure out how to kill Savoy too. He would pay tenfold for what he did to them today and for killing Lazar. Makar elected to talk, hoping to spare his hide.
Waiting with practiced patience, Dom recognized a shift in Makar’s eyes when the rotter decided to comply.
Makar slurred a bit as he ratted out their source. “The leak is not in SAS. She is in MI6 and hates you and your wife Jeannette with a passion. Her hatred and a little money are all it took, and she gave up your name.”
Dom’s mind furiously tried to identify anyone within MI6 who hated them. A tight-knit community and few knew more than a couple of others. Identities were safer because of the limited exposure between operatives.
Makar said ‘she.’ Can it be a lower level support staff? No, they wouldn’t have access to classified details. What did Jeannette or I do to spark the hatred? “So, who is this woman? I will know if you are lying.”
“Harriet Lambourne,” the Yurievich brothers said in chorus.
All Dom’s training came into play as he kept his visage calm, collected, and unfazed. Inside he seethed with rage. Harriet did this? He knew Harriet became a little upset with him eons ago when he quit dating her, but he never suspected she hated him or Jeannette. She was always so friendly towards them. But again, MI6 trained Harriet, so hiding her thoughts would be easy.
Does this go all the way back to when I met Jeannette? They met on a joint SAS and MI6 ops, and the sparks between them ignited. Once he was back from the ops, Dom broke off the causal relationship with Harriet. They parted on amicable terms, or so he believed. He and Jeannette secretly dated for over a year afterward because Jeannette reported to Harriet.
Harriet attended their wedding. She planned the baby showers and had been the first to call and wish them congratulations on the births of Nicolette then Anna-Marie. Hell, Harriet was even Nicolette’s godmother. After Anna-Marie was born, she arranged Jeannette’s retirement party. Harriet came to every one of the girl’s birthday parties. Harriet had been to their home numerous times and partook lunch with Jeannette on a regular basis.
This was too much to comprehend. Truth serum or not, Dom could not wrap his mind around the source being Harriet. Makar had to be lying. Dom barked, “I do not believe you! What proof do you have?”
“She hate you. She say you marry her, not ugly woman. Jeannette steals her life. She hates girls too. Want all dead.” Kazimir laughed.
“Kazimir took pictures of our meeting. We wanted to blackmail her to keep quiet. They are in his phone. Check for yourself,” Makar found himself saying more than he should and wondered why he could not stop himself.
Dom rose, went to his pack, and removed Kazimir’s phone. After powering it on, he pulled up the photos and reviewed them. Shocked beyond belief as he viewed snapshots showing Makar and Harriet in a park near his home. The park his daughters played in often with Harriet.
He stopped on a picture of Harriet passing a dossier to Makar. He flicked to the next one of Makar examining the contents. As he swiped to the last photo which showed Makar handing the folder back to Harriet, Dom’s stomach rolled. Shutting off the phone again, he shoved the evidence back into the pocket of the backpack. He turned and asked, “What was in the file she showed you?”
Again, unable to stop the words from spilling out, Makar revealed all. “The real names of all the operatives in operation Sandsnake. We planned to go after each one. William Broderick was next on our list.
“His daughter Becca would have netted loads of money since Yvonne Broderick inherited a fortune from her father, Sir Alastair Loving. Sutton, Cardillo, Pearce, Kingsley, Stodeley, and all the members of your team will pay for killing our brother Lazar.”
Dom walked to the bed as he pulled out the two filled syringes from his pocket. Leaning over, he injected Kazimir first then Makar and dropped the now empty hypodermics on the mattress near the brothers.
With hope in his eyes, Kazimir stammered, “We tell. Antidote? Yes?”
Dropping his façade, Dom allowed his full measure of contempt and rage to show. His words dripped with venom. “Yes. The antidote to you living, you bloody snake. Your filthy hands touched my sweet, innocent daughters. How could you believe for one second, I would let you remain alive? I should’ve put you two down when I took out your worthless brother.”
“We no touch girls. They pure when we give to Panin. I swear. We no take innocence,” Kazimir cried out in fear.
Dom snorted. “There are more ways than one to steal innocence. Merde! You manky, gormless, fils de pute abducted them, terrorized them, and exposed them to the dark side of humankind. You two dégénéré salaud shattered their innocent belief this world is a happy, wonderful place. For that alone, you deserve to die. I cannot allow you to live and perpetrate that on another soul, especially not my dear friend’s daughter Becca.”
Kazimir began to convulse and foam at the mouth, and Makar shouted, “This is murder. You are former SAS. You cannot murder.”
His face somber, Dom responded calmly, “Not murder. The evidence is overwhelming you did the crime, and you have been convicted in the court of humanity. As judge and jury, I sentence you to death. Civilization is better off without sacs de merde like you.”
As Kazimir stilled, his vacant eyes open and fixed with drool running out of his mouth, Makar realized his brother was now dead. Outraged, he yelled, “You won’t get away with this. You will go to prison for murdering us.”
Sweeping his hand around, calling attention to the room Dom grinned. “Welcome to your final, wild, drug-induced orgy. You and your brother simply overdosed and the cowards partying with you left you here to rot until the hotel staff comes in to clean up once your allotted days are up. I rented this room for a week in your name.
“Things should be degraded enough by then to make all but the overdose in your system not register. But don’t worry, if t
hey find you sooner, I laced those last syringes with everything you were given so it will appear to be a party cocktail gone bad.” He watched as Makar began to convulse. When the spasms ended, and Makar was dead, Dom strolled over and untied the leather from the bedposts only leaving the straps on their wrists.
Dom returned to his pack, withdrew a black ball cap, and put it on his head pulling the brim down to hide most of his face. He removed the two syringes which had contained the truth serum from his pocket and dropped them into the pack before he zipped it closed.
Slinging the backpack over one shoulder, he surveyed the area one last time. The stage was indeed set. Dom now had one more thing to handle before this nightmare would be over for him and his family. Harriet Lambourne must die. Though, he would need to determine if she compromised other SAS or MI6 agents first.
Makar, Kazimir, Savelievich, and Harriet picked the wrong people to cross. Jeannette would happily help him deal with Harriet. Nothing fiercer than a mama bear protecting her cubs. For that matter, there was nothing more merciless than a resourceful, skilled, and utterly pissed off papa bear.
Dom thought that perhaps he might even see about enlisting the help of Anastasia and or Mike in dealing with Harriet. Both showed a remarkable aptitude for this type of work. Dom could always use more contacts willing to help rid the world of scum who preyed on the weak and innocent.
When Dom exited the room, he put the do not disturb sign on the door and closed it securely. He walked down the stairs and out of the hotel’s rear service entrance with one thought. Justice served! Those two animals would never harm another innocent soul.
As Dom got into the car, his thoughts returned to his sweet daughters. He hoped Blaze’s unit was successful in rescuing his girls and the other children from the hell hole. So many things could go wrong, but Dom trusted the soldiers to do their best. Taking a brief moment, Dom sent a silent prayer to the heavens for the safe return of his daughters and the unit.
A sense of peace settled in his heart. With William’s son taking the lead he was ninety-nine percent certain there would be a successful outcome. Dan reminded him so much of his father when planning the mission. Dom saw the gleam in Dan’s eyes and the resolve he would not fail.
If they were successful and even if they were not, Dom would be forever in their debt. He would go to the ends of the earth should any of them need his skills in the future. After switching on the ignition, Dom shifted into gear. He needed to make one stop to destroy everything in the backpack, except the cell phone with evidence. Then he would drive to the airport and await the others.
Unexpected
29
May 29
Back Alley – 0000 Hours
“Blaze, heads up. A small truck is pulling into the alley.” Patch tracked the white truck with a picture of a pufferfish and some lettering he couldn’t read on the door as it pulled into the narrow alley near the kitchen of the club. He blew out a breath. An unexpected delivery could cause problems.
“Roger.” Blaze and Winds crouched lower behind the dumpster as the headlights swept across their hiding place. The only blind spot from the rooftop guard who scanned the area.
Whispering, Winds said, “We can take him out and sneak in posing as the delivery man.”
After glancing up at the armed man on the roof, Blaze shook his head. “We’d never make it unseen. We stick to the plan and wait for Ripsaw’s signal. Besides, deliveries at this time of night are out of the ordinary, not even bakeries deliver at zero hundred hours. And the man may be known to them.”
Returning his gaze to the door, Blaze spotted a square of light as a viewing window about the size of a cell phone slid open, illuminating a Chinese man standing outside. While listening to the conversation which he didn’t understand, and observing the interaction, one positive thing crossed Blaze’s mind. Ripsaw can safely signal us using the sliding peephole.
When the man handed a little package through the opening, Blaze became more curious and wished he spoke Russian. Perhaps some tutoring sessions with the kid are in order after we finish this mission.
“What the hell is this all about?” Winds murmured as the portal closed, and the man continued to stand at the door.
“Not sure. Delivery of something small.”
Back Alley – Kitchen Door
Tapping his foot, Renqing Yu glanced around the dark alley. Perturbed to be woken and summoned at this time of night by Panin, he expected double the payment for his concoction, especially given the demands.
Some days Renqing wished Panin had never shown up in his establishment or asked him if he could develop a potion with pufferfish. Working with … correction … for Panin lined his pockets nicely, but since the first transaction, Renqing never felt safe. He wasn’t, and neither was his family.
The window opened, and Grigori spoke in Russian, “He requests to know the lethal dose.”
In a heavy Chinese accent, Renqing responded, “Five milliliters possibly with the combination. Ten milliliters will kill for certain.”
Sticking a wad of cash out the little window, Grigori said, “Double for your trouble. Remember, if it does not perform as expected, your family will meet a terrible end.”
Renqing grabbed the money and stuffed it in his pocket. Someday he would have enough to move his entire family away from Savelievich’s reach … maybe Canada where his brother Runming lived. His wife and children would be safe in Canada. Turning, he rushed for his truck. In his haste, he dropped a second tiny vile on the asphalt. The glass tinked and cracked.
Using his shoe, he crushed it, refusing to touch the mixture with bare hands and accidentally transfer some to his mouth. Ingesting even a miniscule amount of his blend would cause extreme pain, and he had no desire to experience the effects. The poor sap who Panin targeted tonight well, …. Renqing stopped thinking about the consequences as he backed out of the alley. He did what must be done to save his family.
Cherry Club – Waiting Room
Ripsaw began to plan his next move. Natia had been gone too long, and he must find the kitchen. He needed to secure the area and make way for Blaze and Winds to enter with their gear. Blondie’s, Mason’s, Mike’s, and Anastasia’s lives depended on him successfully navigating to the top floor.
Moving from his position, Ripsaw chose the door with the distracted guard. The man couldn’t keep his eyes off one woman, watching her ply her trade on a reclining man. He halted when he glimpsed Natia entering from an alcove. Secret door? Changing direction, he approached her when she waved him over.
Natia put her finger to her lips and glanced around furtively to determine if any guards noticed her entry. She stepped back into the curtained nook as the short bodyguard advanced. Gripping his hand, Natia hastily pulled him through the hidden opening. If anyone caught her, she would be dead.
Cherry Club – Secret Passageway
Once inside, she whispered in Georgian, “Follow me. Be quiet and fast. I couldn’t find Madam, but Cookie and the others in the kitchen like me so they won’t tell her. The guards … well, sometimes we bring men in there, and they ignore us so long as we don’t go near the exit.”
“What is your name?”
“Natia. Yours?”
“You can call me Ripsaw.”
Natia bit her lower lip to stifle a giggle. “Funny name.”
Shrugging, Ripsaw followed as the woman led him down a narrow corridor lit with lights spaced every ten feet. When she pushed open a door along the way, they stepped into a hallway. They continued for a short distance before coming to a set of swinging doors.
Cherry Club – Kitchen
Natia smiled as they entered. Cookie always treated her well, almost grandmotherly, since the day she arrived ten years ago. None of the staff wanted to be here, all slaves just as her. Panin’s men always guarded the rear exit. The sentries posted on the roof shot any unauthorized exits through the back door, so they were all trapped.
Ripsaw found himself in the bordello
’s kitchen. He grinned and kissed Natia on the cheek as he scanned the room. The room contained five women and two male guards, one stationed by the door, the other by an opening in the wall. Pointing, he inquired, “Natia, what is that?”
Sauntering over to a prep table, Natia disclosed, “The dumbwaiter to send stuff up to the auction floor. Here, what would you like to eat?”
A man wearing Panin’s signature security uniform plus a black jacket and a Russian eagle pin on his beret entered. With an air of authority, the newcomer issued orders to an older woman wearing an apron. Both ignored him and Natia. Ripsaw watched the woman fill a tray with two shot glasses and a bottle of pale red liquid with floating cherries.
When the superordinate guard went to the sentry at the door and retrieved a tiny parcel, Ripsaw’s curiosity increased. Their brief dialog ended when the man placed the article on the serving tray. The jacketed man then took the silver tray to the hoist, set it inside, and pressed a button before striding out.
An idea formed. A tight fit, but a perfect way to reach the fifth floor without being seen. If Blondie garners an invitation, I can reach them without going to the elevator. The invite remained a ‘big if’ based on Blondie’s plan of acting like an arrogant ass. The kid’s strategy had a higher probability of ended with Blondie, Mason, Mike, and Anastasia dead, but he hoped the kid pulled it off.
He must do his part to make sure if they did swing an invite he was there to supply the guys with comms and weapons. Getting out alive would be harder than getting in. After the officious guard left the kitchen and Ripsaw turned his eyes to the prep table as he asked, quietly. “Does anyone else speak Georgian in this room?”
Natia had bowed her head listening to the conversation. Someone would die tonight. She understood the meaning of that particular tray. Unable to do anything about the awful fate awaiting a buyer, she tried to push away the thoughts as she answered, “No, but I can translate your wishes for you.”
