by Jonas Saul
Darwin hung up and stopped running. He set the phone on the ground and backed away from it. He matched their steps one for one as they neared the phone.
At the next block, he turned and ran, disappearing down an alley. After ten minutes with no one chasing him, he came out and started toward the hospital.
Rosina in Toronto? A meeting of rival Mafia families?
All their troubles had started at a Mafia meeting with Darwin as the guest. The problem is he had been trying to stay alive since that day.
And now it had come full circle with his wife as their guest.
That meant the end was near.
It’s us or them and I have every intention of making it them.
It was survival of the fittest after all.
Chapter 10
It took an hour to make it back to the road that led to the hospital. Darwin took a break on a bus stop bench. This had been the most he’d walked in weeks, and he felt it.
The ultimate physiotherapy is running for your life.
It would take Carson more than an hour to arrange to have Darwin picked up in Barrie by helicopter, so he knew he had time to rest.
He looked up at the sky. Nothing, not even a dot in the distance.
What had his life, his existence, become? A common name among the Mafia? A man hunted by them for months? And for what? Because he accidentally hit a made man with his car way back when?
How unfair life could be?
He would never have hurt anybody before this. Except for the time when he killed his stepmother. But, he had rationalized that as justifiable homicide. She had it coming after too many years of torture at her hands. On the day she died, she chased him with a pitchfork into an abandoned barn and ended up on the end of the pitchfork herself. The crime was never attributed to Darwin in any way.
Maybe something like that was needed here.
Darwin and Rosina were in love and had been for a long time. They’d married in Rome and planned a honeymoon in Greece, where Darwin’s origins were.
But that never happened. Because the Mafia chased them to Italy and tried to kill them. They were always trying to kill them. No matter how many died, their thirst for blood was insatiable.
Maybe killing a few of them wasn’t working. Maybe he had to kill them all. No more staying on the run and letting them chase him. Maybe he had to go on the offense, chase them and have them fearing for their lives.
Maybe it was time to go after the Mafia and give them a war that only Darwin and Rosina would walk away from. A war unlike any they would understand. One that would give the Kostas freedom from the threat they’ve lived under for far too long.
Then an idea occurred to him. Something Carson said. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.
Offer a man two cards to play and each is a losing hand. When there’s no hope of ever coming out of this with his marriage together, his wife unharmed and his sanity intact, what did he have left to lose? Fuck the cards and the chips. Fall where they may. It was time to stop playing poker or chess or whatever the fuck his enemies were dishing out. It was time to play Darwin’s game of war and he had the ace of spades.
With a plan forming in his head, he got up from the bench and continued to the helipad at the Barrie hospital.
A four-door black Crown Victoria pulled up beside him. The back window lowered and a familiar face smiled at him.
“Get in,” Special Agent Kirk Williams said.
Darwin remembered him from the Toronto hospital. He was Carson Dodge’s replacement while Carson recuperated in a Florida hospital. At least that was what he was told.
The car pulled ahead of Darwin and then stopped abruptly. Williams jumped out, his jacket flaring open in the breeze. Darwin caught the hint of his weapon resting in its holster.
“Get in,” Williams said, gesturing at the open door.
“How did you know I was here?”
“You called Carson, no? You asked to be picked up. Now get in.”
“He said he was sending a helicopter.”
“We were in Toronto. We could get here faster than it would take you to walk to the hospital. This was the better option. Economically better as well. Now, get in.”
Darwin got into the backseat. Beside the driver sat another man in the front passenger seat. Darwin slid over to give enough room for Williams to get in. When he did, he caught the profile of the passenger. Agent Scott, the man who questioned Darwin in the hospital with Williams.
Williams slammed the door. The driver performed a U-turn and got on the highway heading south. Once on the highway, Williams opened a briefcase on the floor and pulled out a thick manila folder. He bent over again and pulled out a small bag from a fast-food restaurant and placed it beside Darwin.
“Here, eat. Then we can talk.”
Darwin opened the bag, grabbed the burger, unwrapped it and ate as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
“Talk while I eat,” he said between mouthfuls. “Show me I can trust you. My patience is limited these days with the people who hold badges. After what Cavendish did to me, well, you understand.”
That comment got Agent Scott to turn and look at him from the front seat.
“What?” Darwin said as he wiped a corner of his mouth. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anybody right now. You fuckers had me protected at the hospital in Toronto. I would still be there and not look this pretty,” he waved a hand alongside his bruised face, “if it wasn’t for that fuck.”
“What did John do?” Williams asked.
“He fed me to the sharks.”
“Explain it to me. What sharks?”
Darwin took another bite and wondered if the food was drugged. He was so hungry he had just bit right in without thinking of the consequences.
“You first. I’m eating.”
Williams and Scott exchanged glances. Williams sat back in the leather seat and opened the manila folder. On the top of a pile of papers, Yuri Pavel’s face stared back.
Williams held it up. “This is Yuri Pavel.”
“Met him.”
Williams raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“That’s who Cavendish fed me to.” He chewed faster. He had no idea when the next time food would be this easily available. “Continue.”
“Okay, we want you to go through this file on your own. Examine the pictures, read the rap sheets and see who you know. We’re looking for names, locations, details about the people listed here. Anything you can tell us about the Russian Mafia.”
Darwin finished the last bite. “You got any more food?”
Williams shook his head.
“Gimme the file.”
Williams handed it over. Darwin flipped through the first few pages, recognizing a couple of people from the Russian restaurant where he met Yuri that night on Queen Street. Then he thumbed through the rest of the pages and realized he had hit the jackpot. In his lap was the accumulation of the RCMP and the FBI’s homework on the Russian Mafia in Toronto. Every name, known address, business and associate they had on file.
In Darwin’s hands this was his map of executions.
He needed to keep this file and he needed to get away from the FBI so he could start to work on it. Someone on the pages resting on his lap had his wife or knew where she was and the only way to get to her was to wage war on the people within the borders of the manila folder in his hand.
“Tell us what happened after you walked out of the hospital in Toronto,” Williams said.
Darwin closed the file but kept it in his lap, held in a tight grip while he explained what Yuri did. He felt no reason to hold anything back, especially the knowledge that Scythe was alive and well.
“You’re kidding?” Williams asked.
Darwin shook his head. “He did this.” He pointed at his face.
“I know you’re lying,” Williams said. “You have to be. The Scythe is dead. He was the Russian Mafia’s most ruthless executioner. As soon as anyone saw The Scythe, they knew it
was game over. We’d hunted him for years. Our intel says he died in a shootout and yet you claim to have met him. I don’t believe it. No one has seen him in years. None of our informants or undercover agents.”
“You think I care what you believe? You assholes constantly prove that we’re not on the same team. Let me out here. I’ll catch a cab to the local Mafia hangout. Got a date with the wife.”
“Then how come you’re still alive?” Williams asked, completely ignoring Darwin’s plea to be let out of the vehicle. “Why didn’t we find you all chopped up if you met The Scythe?”
Darwin decided to play along. He detailed the fight in Yuri’s basement.
Williams grinned. “Jars of canned fruit? Oh man, how the hell did you know to do that?”
Darwin could tell they were placating him.
“I didn’t know. It was luck.”
“You really do have a horseshoe up your ass. I read what Carson wrote in his report about how you singlehandedly stormed Gambino’s house with a German tank and shot Greg Stinsen and your wife with rubber bullets to make Gambino think you’d lost your mind and were killing them.” Williams shook his head. “Insane for sure. But then there’s that lucky horseshoe ...”
“So now what?” Darwin asked. “Tell me your genius plan. How do we stop them and get my wife back?”
Williams and Scott exchanged another glance.
“What?” Darwin asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“We won’t be stopping them.”
A silence descended upon the vehicle. Darwin looked out the window and controlled his breathing. Then he met Kirk’s gaze.
“I’m not sure I heard you right,” Darwin said. “Say it again because I thought you said we won’t be stopping them.”
Williams nodded. “You heard me right.”
“Why the fuck not? You’re the FBI for hell’s sake.”
“Because there are too many powerful people going to be at that meeting in two days. The RCMP picked up the location on wiretaps of known associates of Yuri. It’s like the G8 summit for the Mafia and it’s happening right here in Toronto. If we do anything right now, we jeopardize the chance of that meeting ever taking place.”
“And what about Rosina? Just leave her with the dogs?”
“We have no idea where she is at the moment.”
“Is that true? Or do you know where she is and you can’t tell me because you have to let the Mafia G8 meeting take place?” Darwin wiped his brow and took a deep breath. “I think you know where she is or you at least have a good idea. I think she’ll be a part of that meeting and I don’t think she’ll be a willing guest. What are your thoughts on the subject?” he asked, sarcasm on each word. “Huh, what do you think?”
“Look, Darwin, you may have trust issues, but we will do everything we can to get Rosina out safe. But you have to understand something. These kinds of people and the meeting about to take place are the result of years of surveillance, years of economic resources and endless manpower hours staking buildings out, monitoring phone lines and asking judges for search warrants. To have the leaders of three warring families coming together for one meeting is like hitting the jackpot. We have to let the meeting take place, hear what they’re meeting about and then take appropriate action. We need to do it right so charges will stick in court or all our efforts are wasted. If we rock the boat before the meeting, who knows who’ll show up? It could all get wasted.”
Darwin looked out the window. A sign said they were passing an exit to Newmarket. The top of Toronto would be coming up within minutes.
“Darwin, listen,” Williams said. “In North America alone, the Red Mafia operates in almost twenty major cities. There are over thirty Russian crime syndicates in those cities.” He cleared his throat. “Did you know that in all American history, the largest jewelry heist and insurance scams were perpetrated by the Russian Mafia? The amount stolen has been estimated at over one billion dollars. They’re involved in politics, businesses, financial markets and even professional sports. The Russians didn’t come here to be a part of the pursuit of happiness. They came to steal it. That’s why my superiors won’t take into consideration the welfare of one woman when three bosses of rival families are meeting in one place. I’m sorry, but that’s the way the chips fall. I do have the green light if we see her and they intend to harm her. We’ll have snipers watching from every direction.”
“Where is the meeting taking place?” Darwin asked.
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“It’s okay, I already have a good idea where.”
He stared out the window. No one said anything for a while. He rolled his thumb along the back of his other hand and tapped his foot.
He knew what he had to do and he knew he could. He just hoped none of the agents in this car got killed when he executed his idea to get out of the vehicle.
He waited, but after fifteen minutes, no one said another word. Canada’s Wonderland had passed by on the left a few minutes ago as they entered the northern part of Toronto. The Finch Avenue Bridge passed over them as they continued south.
Time to leave.
He turned to Williams. “Ordinarily, I would completely understand and think you have it right.”
Williams turned to look at him from across the seat. “Have what right?”
Darwin ignored him and continued. “But they have Rosina. My wife and I have been causing the Italians hell for a few months. Now the Russians are involved and Arkady killed a member of the Triads at that warehouse and tried to blame it on me. When they meet in two days, Yuri or Arkady, or both of them, will offer Rosina’s sacrifice as a peace offering. I can’t let that happen. She won’t walk out of that meeting without intervention and I won’t let that happen. My wife is not bait. I don’t care how many prison sentences you get or don’t get. This is my wife we’re talking about.”
Williams adjusted his suit jacket, looked up at Scott and then back at Darwin. “I understand how you feel. But the best thing for you is to let us do our jobs. We’re the FBI. We’re trained for this.”
“Right, and it was the FBI who manned the safe house my wife and I lived in. It was the FBI who protected Rosina when she was taken the second time. It was the FBI who guarded my hospital room when I was fed false information that Yuri had Rosina when in fact he didn’t. Arkady did. Yuri just wanted me so the Russians would have both of us. Am I just supposed to trust you because you’re the FBI? You’re the professionals?”
“You are supposed to trust us, Darwin. I’m afraid you don’t have any other choice. To keep you out of the mix, we can lock you up until it’s over.”
“You could try.”
Anger brewed from deep inside him. A wave of beautiful rage coursed through his body. He looked out the window and waited until traffic was light around them. The Crown Vic was doing at least 120km on the 400 highway still heading south. He closed the manila folder and slipped it down beside him between the seat and the door.
His knuckles ached from the abuse in Yuri’s basement. He had no idea how he could punch, so he decided he would use the lower part of the palm of his hand.
“Darwin, I know you’re angry,” Williams said. “Trust us, this is the only way. We will have the meeting covered by hundreds of agents. It’s a combined task force. If Rosina gets into trouble, we’ll be there.”
Darwin breathed in slow, getting ready.
“Darwin, are you listening?”
“I don’t believe you,” he said as he shot across the backseat and whacked Williams hard on the side of the throat. He wouldn’t get a second chance so he made sure the hit would count. Williams tried to defend himself, but Darwin already had his other hand coming around. He hit him again near the front of Kirk’s throat, causing him to crumple back in the seat, gagging for breath.
Scott was lurching in his seat, already reaching over into the back.
Darwin slipped his hand inside Kirk’s jacket, wrapped his fingers around the butt of
his weapon and pulled just as Scott’s arm circled around Darwin’s neck. He was yanked back and away from Williams, but the gun came up with him. His breath was cut off instantly by Scott’s powerful arm and his vision blurred.
The driver screamed something and the car swerved, then righted.
Normally Darwin would bring his hands up to pull on the offending arm around his throat. Instead, he flipped the safety off the weapon, aimed the gun and fired a bullet out the side window beside Kirk’s purpling face.
Wind swirled around the backseat, tossing Kirk’s hair around. The pressure from Scott’s arm didn’t decrease. If Darwin didn’t do something soon, he would lose consciousness and lose his chance at freedom.
