Monsters

by Matt Rogers

  For King, it wasn’t even so much about his own fate.

  Danny was in the way, and he’d get caught in the crossfire.

  A new dynamic became apparent. Frankie had a choice to make. He couldn’t be sure about King and Slater, not fully, but he either had to trust them or turn on them. A hazy middle ground was no longer going to cut it.

  Either trust or war.

  Time to decide.

  Frankie faced the blonde brothers. ‘Listen to me. I’ve cleared them. I know they can be trusted, and I know Carter’s a traitor. If that ain’t good enough, then get back in your car and drive away and find another gym, find another job. Or put your guns away and stop being hotheads.’

  King made sure his eyes didn’t widen, made sure not to show any reaction. He hadn’t expected that. He was sure Slater hadn’t either. There was no proof that Carter was a traitor, nothing but their own word.

  Frankie had fallen in line, chosen trust.

  It seemed to disarm the new guys, but they didn’t let their guards all the way down. It saved their lives. If they put their guns away as instructed, King and Slater could draw in a heartbeat and shoot them dead, shoot Frankie, too. Then it would be over. But they didn’t. They looked at each other and shrugged and the first guy said, ‘Alright. We’ll work with ’em. But we’re keeping our pieces out. Don’t wanna get backstabbed. That good enough for you?’

  Frankie said nothing.

  The second guy said, ‘Fine if it isn’t. We’ll drive away.’

  Frankie said, ‘It’s fine. Jason, Will, this is Bobby, Kit.’

  The first guy nodded at the name Bobby, and the second at Kit.

  King said to Frankie, ‘You got any more?’

  ‘Nah,’ Frankie said. ‘This is it. But after tonight we’ll have to rebuild.’

  King had to stop himself smiling at the confirmation.

  Frankie’s phone rang. He fished it out and swore before he answered on speakerphone. ‘Heidi, I have my men together. We’re getting started now.’

  Her voice came back enraged, barely contained. ‘You’d better take care of Choi first.’

  Frankie froze. ‘What?’

  ‘A couple of my men spotted him crawling around his neighbourhood, trying not to be seen. He’s still alive. Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again.’

  Frankie looked up from the phone, stared daggers at King and Slater.

  The lot grew deathly quiet.

  54

  Calculations made in the blink of an eye.

  If King drew his gun, Frankie would recognise it as Carter’s, and that’d be that. In milliseconds he tried to figure out whether any of this was still salvageable, or whether they’d all need to shoot each other with Danny there in the mix, unarmed.

  Slater drew his own weapon, the HK45 Tactical from the motel, before King needed to make a decision. Frankie wouldn’t recognise it. Petr and the Russians were a different crew, unconnected.

  Tensions hit their peak when Slater brought the gun into view but he kept it aimed at the ground, hanging by his side. ‘I’m not gonna shoot. But what the fuck is this, Frankie? We getting played?’

  Bobby and Kit were statuesque.

  Danny had no idea what was happening.

  Frankie held the phone tight, staring at the HK45, but Slater’s performance was stellar. Just the right inflections in his questions, the hint of betrayal, the seemingly genuine confusion.

  Frankie said, ‘You lied?’

  King matched Slater’s acting chops. ‘We killed a guy. An Asian guy. You trying to tell me he was someone else?’

  Heidi heard all this over speakerphone. She sighed. ‘Sort your shit out, Frankie. And get on top of this. I have one of my guys tailing Choi but he’s a sentry. He can’t do the hit. So you’re doing it.’

  She hung up.

  Ever the high-pressure businesswoman.

  Frankie kept clutching the dead phone.

  King put his hands in the air, feigning that he was fed up. ‘I’m done, Frankie. I don’t know what this shit is but I’m done.’

  But Frankie would know he and Bobby and Kit couldn’t take care of five Vitality+ employees, along with Choi, on the same night. Not on their own. Sure, it was only civilians they were dealing with, but a task of that magnitude required manpower.

  Frankie seemed to detest his own response, but he patted the air. ‘Relax. Just relax. Tell me what happened.’

  King glanced at Slater, and sure enough Slater’s face was a mask of feigned betrayal.

  Slater’s eyes widened like he’d been struck by a revelation. ‘Did Carter or those other two meatheads know Choi?’

  ‘What? No. Why would they—?’

  King said, ‘Frankie.’

  Frankie stopped talking.

  King said, ‘We beat someone to death. You see my knuckles?’ He held them up. They were roughly calloused from consistent training, but if you didn’t know that you’d believe they’d been freshly used to pummel flesh. ‘I joined in. Okay? I didn’t tell you that part. Carter made me participate, because he didn’t trust me. Then all this shit happened and now you’re telling me Choi is alive. So who did we kill?’

  Slater said, ‘Carter was awfully unhappy to bring us along. He must’ve already planned all of this. Does he know Choi? Was he protecting him?’

  Frankie said, ‘This is insane. He wouldn’t—’

  ‘Carter’s not here, is he? The three of them bounced.’

  King stuck to his guns. ‘I didn’t sign up for this.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s happening,’ Frankie finally admitted, ‘but I need you two.’

  They pretended to think it out, then King said, ‘Okay. Fine. But none of this amateur hour.’

  He looked at Bobby and Kit.

  Bobby said, ‘I think I believe you. But I still don’t fucking trust you.’ He shook his HK in his hand. ‘So this stays right where it is.’

  King said, ‘Fine by me. I’d do the same if I were you.’

  Which settled tensions a little.

  Frankie said, ‘I’m gonna rip Carter’s head off.’

  Slater said, ‘Not if I do it first.’

  Kit said, ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but I never liked him. Got the smell of rat off him the first time I met him.’

  Frankie sighed, turned all around. ‘So we’re good?’

  Nods, all across the board.

  Except Danny, who stood there like he was being held at gunpoint, grossly uncomfortable. He seemed to understand he’d avoided being caught in the crossfire by a hair.

  Frankie slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Snap out of it, kid.’

  Then he took a breath, got his racing thoughts together, and pointed at King. ‘You come with me and Danny. Whatever issue there is between the two of you, we’re going to sort it out on the way to the first address. We’ll start handling Heidi’s list.’ He then pointed at Slater. ‘You go with the twins. Find Choi. I’ll put you in touch with Heidi’s sentry.’

  King’s head spun at the changing landscape, but he knew he was lucky to be alive. He wasn’t about to push it. ‘Fine.’

  He exchanged a look with Slater that he hoped communicated, Kill them. First chance you get.

  Slater managed the tiniest knowing nod.

  Slater turned to the twins. ‘Works for me. Honestly, if I were you, I’d keep those guns where they are. Two new guys come in and everything goes to shit. This whole thing smells suspicious. Don’t blame you one bit.’

  They kept their HKs out, but their guards came down.

  Slater must’ve figured he had a better shot when they were alone, because he put his own HK45 back in his waistband to properly defuse the situation. Then he headed for their car.

  Frankie called out, ‘Where’d you get that piece?’

  Over his shoulder, Slater said, ‘Bought it off some Russians.’

  He got in the passenger seat and Bobby got in the back. Kit got behind the wheel and peeled away.

  Then it was King
, Frankie, and Danny, alone in the lot.

  Wind washed off the nearby ocean, whistling out of the dark and over the asphalt.

  Frankie said, ‘Alright. Let’s go do this.’

  King pulled Carter’s Glock.

  Before he could bring it up to put a round through Frankie’s head, Danny stepped between them.

  55

  Heidi stood shaking in the privacy of her eight-car garage.

  She hadn’t turned any lights on.

  If her husband confronted her now, she wouldn’t be able to keep up the act. As soon as the new message from John Rhames had come through, she’d swiftly stood up and removed herself from the dining room, and came in here where she could hide between her Rolls Royce and her Bentley. There was some catharsis in the way the giant automobiles enclosed her, like a pair of barricades sealing her off from the world.

  She clutched her phone in a sweaty palm, the opened text message on the screen.

  Beneath the contact name JOHN RHAMES it read:

  Don’t come in tomorrow. I didn’t resign like we agreed. I cast an emergency vote instead. You’re gone.

  She wished the ground would open up and swallow her. But that proved to only be a moment of weakness, because as soon as she pulled herself together she found herself renewed by the idea of knowing the seven employees she hated most would soon meet a brutal demise.

  Then she could go down.

  Whatever it took, whatever was required, she’d do it. Just for that final satisfaction.

  Which put her in the right headspace when her phone rang in her hand and she looked down and saw: PETR.

  She answered. ‘Yes?’

  ‘You are not gonna believe this.’ He was almost shouting. From the strange tone alone she knew he was coked to the eyeballs. She had to expect that, giving him a job with no notice. ‘Your best friend actually got the jump on me. At Ernie’s.’

  ‘What? Who’s my friend?’

  ‘Sarcasm, my dear. It’s that bitch who looks like your employee. The one who kicked this whole thing off.’

  Her heart double-timed. ‘She did what?’

  ‘Came in while we were giving him the beating. Don’t ask me how she got his address. She shot Maxim. She shot Gennady. My dear friends, Heidi. My brothers. She killed them. And I barely fucking got away. So now it’s just me. This stupid woman has killed all my men. All of them.’

  ‘Where are you?’ She could barely contain her rage.

  ‘I was headed to the second address. I’m on the San Mateo Bridge. Nearly in Hayward, across the bay. But then I thought, what’s the fucking point of that? I think this bitch took one of their phones. Either Maxim’s or Gennady’s. I’m going to give her a call. I’m going to give her somewhere to meet. Because that’s what she wants, right? She wants me finished, wants the whole crew wiped out.’

  ‘So do it.’

  ‘You’re going to be there. I’m going to take her alive and I’m going to let you punish her. Make it slow. Make her scream, beg, cry. All of it.’

  ‘Sounds like you’re playing with fire.’

  ‘I’ll play with fire and you’ll give me a million dollars for it.’

  ‘I—’

  ‘All my brothers, Heidi. And I know what she’s done to you. You want to hear her squeal, yes?’

  Heidi thought about it. ‘Yes. I do.’

  ‘And I want to be compensated. I know about your little problem with the papers, with your company. I know you’re on borrowed time. So you hurt this woman, I get my money, and we both disappear before any of this makes it to the pigs.’

  Heidi thought, Can I run with Petr?

  Do I have the genetic makeup for that?

  For retreat?

  Yes.

  Yes, she did.

  All this conflict was for the sake of her own ego. She saw that now, and clearly. She couldn’t comprehend facing her failure, owning up to her mistakes, mostly because of the recent publicity she’d received. She was a minor celebrity now and she’d always known that her downfall, if it ever came, would fuel the tabloids for months.

  But it was better to kill the ego than to die, so yes, she could start afresh. She’d need to adopt better habits, find a way to detach herself from the news stories that would mock and deride the downfall and sudden disappearance of Heidi Waters. She didn’t have to be Heidi Waters forever, though. A quick name change, a few falsified documents, and she was someone else, someone who hadn’t plummeted from the heights of fame and fortune.

  There was work to do before that, though.

  No matter what, she wouldn’t disappear without getting revenge.

  So she said, ‘I know a place in Hayward. Along the San Lorenzo Creek. It’s one of those manmade flood control channels. Big concrete slopes. Gravel at the bottom. Lots of room for privacy.’

  Petr came alive. ‘Like in “Terminator 2.” The truck chase.’

  Definitely coked, she thought.

  ‘Yes, Petr,’ she said. ‘Like in “Terminator 2.”’

  ‘How you know about this place?’

  ‘You’re not the first gangsters I’ve needed to use. I’ve buried bodies before.’

  ‘Gangster,’ Petr corrected. ‘Just me now.’

  She sighed. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘We will make this bitch pay for what she did.’

  ‘We will.’

  Petr whooped and hung up.

  Heidi was almost grateful. There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with psychopathic tendencies who’s uncontrollably high on drugs. She’d dealt with a couple of those types before. And she knew what coke did to her. That wasn’t a version of herself she ever wanted to bring back.

  She didn’t look back as she got into one of her less attention-grabbing vehicles and drove it out of the garage.

  She knew it was the last time she’d see her home, and her husband.

  Ruminating on that was so far down her list of priorities that she couldn’t even see it.

  She gunned it for the San Mateo Bridge, grinning in the dark.

  56

  Alexis thought about calling Slater, or King, but figured they were neck-deep in their own problems.

  So she drove aimlessly through San Mateo, eyes peeled for any sign of Petr, frustrated beyond measure that he’d slipped from her grasp.

  She’d almost done it. Almost single-handedly eradicated a whole faction of Russian gangsters. When she’d first touched down on Californian soil, she couldn’t have imagined it spiralling into this, but she wasn’t sure why she was so surprised. It always seemed to go this way. She was steadily becoming like Slater, like King: namely, a magnet for destruction. Trouble seemed attracted to them all, but only because they didn’t shy away from it.

  One of the phones she’d taken off the henchmen started ringing on the passenger seat. She glanced over.

  PETR.

  She furrowed her brow, thought about leaving it, but as dark suburbia flashed by outside she realised she had few other options and relented. Reached over and picked it up and answered.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she said before he could speak. ‘You saw me kill them. They’re not answering.’

  ‘I didn’t want to talk to them.’

  The same insane inflections, the randomly accentuated words, the fast-talking.

  She said, ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I’ll only say it once because you won’t believe me, so here goes.’ He took a breath like he was trying to control his heart rate. ‘I don’t really blame you for what you’ve done. This is business, right? People hire people to do things that…aren’t nice. So if people like you aren’t nice to us in return, then whatever. Part of the game. But what I don’t like are pretenders. Pretenders like the stupid bitch who hired me. She’s the contractor, right? Yeah? She should do her due diligence. And she didn’t. She didn’t research who you were — she still has no fucking idea who you are, and neither do I — but that’s the type of shit that needs to be known beforehand. As far as I’m concerned she se
nt all my men to their deaths because she was lazy and she just didn’t understand what she was doing.’

  Whatever Alexis had expected to hear, it wasn’t that.

  Petr continued. ‘I’m going to text a set of coordinates to the phone you’re holding. They’ll lead you to a flood control channel along the San Lorenzo Creek, in Hayward. Over the bridge. Be there in thirty minutes. I convinced Heidi to come. I told her I was going to make you pay, told her I’d help her run away, get a new identity, avoid the scrutiny.’ He laughed. ‘Can you imagine? Believing that? Maybe she’s a good entrepreneur but she’s a grade-A moron.’

  Alexis said nothing.

  ‘But, of course, be cautious,’ he hissed. ‘I sure wouldn’t trust me either.’

  He hung up.

  She frantically dialled Slater off her own phone.

  He didn’t answer.

  She tried King.

  Nothing.

  She slammed a palm against the top of the wheel, then studied the GPS map and corrected course.

  Headed for the San Mateo Bridge.

  57

  Kit pulled away from Frankie’s gym and barrelled back toward the city, leaving Hunters Point behind.

  As soon as the warehouse receded in the rear view, Slater said, ‘How long you two been doing this?’

  Kit said, ‘Long enough to spot a snake.’

  Cold metal touched the back of his neck.

  Bobby had silently redrawn his HK and fed the barrel through the small gap between the headrest and the seat-back.

  Slater didn’t move an inch. He could tell by the way they conducted themselves they were practiced killers. Frankie must’ve taught them not only to use their fists. Either that or they came to his gym in the first place with previous experience, whether that be military or criminal.

  Which sometimes were one and the same, as Slater knew from first-hand experience.

  Slater made sure not to speak too loudly or too suddenly. Didn’t want to do anything that would make Bobby flinch. ‘Why the performance back there?’