After meeting Xander’s sister, Helen, and his adorable niece, Kaley, Natalie noticed Kyle pouring some champagne, but what really caught her eye was the way Annie was looking at him as he did so. Annie was a lot like Natalie when it came to relationships. There had been some tough ones that had left them scarred enough to be really wary when it came to men. Kyle had an infectious personality, so she could see why Annie was drawn to him. Unfortunately for Natalie, the last couple of guys she had met who’d had such boisterous personalities kept wanting to share it with other women. Lots of other women.
“Well, what do you think? A little overwhelming, huh?” Melanie asked.
“It is, but in a good way. I don’t really know how to bet, though. I’ll probably make a fool of myself,” Natalie replied.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Xander will have you up and running in no time! Pardon the pun!” Melanie laughed.
Kyle walked over and handed Natalie a glass of champagne. “Cheers! To a day full of fun with a boxful of fun people!”
Natalie clinked Kyle's glass and then took a sip from her own.
“So, tell me,” Kyle said, “what exactly are your intentions with my best friend?”
“All above board, I assure you.” Natalie smiled. “So, how many times have you had this conversation on Xander’s behalf?”
“Um . . . well, zero, I guess. I’m never around a girl long enough to have this conversation.”
“It’s only been a day.”
“Well, it usually doesn’t carry over into the next day. Hell, Xander hasn’t had a girlfriend since junior high. Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he’s afraid to get close to anyone since his parents died.”
“What happened with that anyway?” she asked, then quickly shook her head. “Never mind. That is far too heavy a subject for a day like today.”
“No, it’s fine. It was a long time ago. Xander was only fifteen when both his mom and dad were—”
“Hey, what’d I miss?” Xander interrupted as he came up from behind and put his arms around Kyle and Natalie.
“Not a thing yet, buddy!” Kyle answered, handing him some champagne.
“Nothing yet! But I did get to meet your sweet sister and her adorable Miss Kaley,” Natalie said.
“Oh, sis is here?”
“She is! She just had to step away to take Kaley to the bathroom.”
“Cheers, Xander. To an awesome day at the races,” Kyle interjected.
“Cheers.” Xander clanged Kyle's glass, then turned to Natalie. “Cheers, gorgeous.”
Natalie wrapped her arm around his. “Cheers. How’d the press conference go? I bet you charmed the pants off of ’em.”
“Well, fine, I guess. Just not what I expected.”
“How so?”
“Well, I thought I was here for a big horse race, but the only thing the media wanted to know was when some movie star and I got together.” Xander laughed, giving her arm a squeeze.
“Ugh, I’m so sorry. I should have warned you before letting you bring me here. The last thing I want to do is take away from this day for you.”
“Come on now,” Xander said, hugging her. “There isn’t a thing about today that having you around won’t make better.”
Natalie raised her glass in excitement. “You are too sweet. Now, teach me how to win some money on these ponies!”
11
Xander Takes a Bathroom Break
Before he knew it, they had bet their way to the eleventh race. One more race and Ransom would hit the track and run for glory. The box they were in had been surrounded by a steady stream of onlookers since about race three. Once word spread that Natalie Rockwell was there, well, it wasn’t long before her fans found her. Her “#Amazing” Derby Instagram posts certainly weren’t helping that cause. She had already signed at least a couple hundred programs and snapped probably twice that amount of photos. She took it all in stride. She hadn’t complained about any of it, not once. Kyle and Annie were getting more and more promiscuous with each glass of champagne and every toast of whiskey. Xander had had a few himself, but in order to minimize the tabloid fodder he and Natalie restrained their affection to smiles and winks.
Sam’s intel was to move on the job at the beginning of race eleven. There was, however, a contingency. Throughout the races, Sam would be monitoring the betting, drinking, and bathroom habits of Erik Kulakov. If a variation opened the door for a better time to take him out, she would notify Kyle, who would in turn signal Xander. Xander looked over to Kyle and sure enough, he had thrown his tie over his right shoulder. Xander made sure Melanie and Natalie were preoccupied, then opened his phone and checked the Cyber Dust app.
X – It is exactly 4:32 as I press send. The target will be placing a bet at the lower mezzanine windows in approximately 11 minutes. There is a men’s restroom exactly 32 paces to the west. I have made certain the target will need to relieve himself directly after placing his bet. Everything you need will be hidden above the corner tile above the toilet connected to the far wall. Simply place the earpiece inside your ear and I will instruct you to the second of his arrival. You can dispose of all the materials where you found them above the tile. Leave the target on the toilet as if he was using it and I will see to it that everything is cleaned up in a manner so as not to interrupt the running of the Derby. As always, if there are any variations in what I have told you, no matter how small, abort the mission and we will find another time to eliminate the target. No exceptions. This message will automatically disappear without a trace from your phone.
Xander closed out the Dust message Sam sent him, and then it disappeared from traceability. It wasn’t exactly like “This message will self-destruct,” but it was pretty damn cool.
“Natalie, are you having fun?” Xander asked as he tapped her on the shoulder.
“A blast! It’s almost time for the big race, are you getting nervous?”
“I’m good.” He smiled. “I do, however, have to run down to do a couple of interviews before the race starts up. When Rory gets back, would you mind telling him that I went down early to use the restroom?”
“Of course, have fun and hurry back!”
“Any tips for a television camera rookie?” he asked.
“Be yourself and keep your chin up. It will make you look thinner on camera. But your handsome face will bring that audience to their knees anyway, so don’t worry.” She winked.
“Good tip. Good luck on the next race. I’ll be right back.”
Natalie blew him a kiss, and Kyle gave him a wink as he turned toward the crowded grandstand. His walk toward the target was filled with heavy reflection. Quite the dichotomy this day was. The contrast of emotions was immense, even for someone trained to squelch such feelings. He knew he would be feeling a lot of this, regardless of Natalie; however, she certainly brought a new fold of emotions he never would have dreamed he would be dealing with. She was a special woman, and he knew that what he felt was different. This is exactly why he should have left her in San Diego. But he didn’t, and he knew in about twenty minutes he would be extremely happy that he hadn’t.
The day had warmed to the seventy-five degrees Kyle had promised. As Xander entered the tunnel toward the stairs, he allowed himself one last thought of Natalie, then one last thought of his horse that was prepping for the biggest horse race in the world.
Then he focused.
He descended the stairs to the mezzanine and found the window where Kulakov would be betting. Sure enough, there he was, fourth in line. Sam was dead-on, as usual. She was dead-on about the ghastly outfit he wore as well. Xander continued to the men’s restroom, thirty-two paces from said betting window. The line into the restroom was always long between races, but Xander didn’t worry. He knew Sam had factored this into the timing. The line was three deep outside the door. As he waited, he slowed his heart rate to the optimum level necessary to maximize his cognitive ability. As the line ushered its way in and others continued to make their way ou
t, Xander stepped inside the restroom. He counted eight men inside and made no other move as he patiently waited for Sam.
“Holy shit! What the hell? This is my good suit!” a man shouted from the row of three sinks on the left side of the bathroom. As he was washing his hands, the pipe below the sink had sprung a leak and water was gushing out into the crowded restroom.
“We’d better get out of here,” Xander said to the patrons. “I saw maintenance on my way in. I’ll run and get him so they can stop the water.” He made his way back out as he continued to urge everyone else out as he went. He walked out the door and turned the corner of the wall. With a quick glance, he noticed that Kulakov was next in line to bet. This gave him about two safe minutes. He counted eight men leaving the restroom after him and immediately a large crash from the bar across from him rang out through the mezzanine as a wall of bourbon bottles tumbled to the ground.
Thank you, Sam.
While everyone jerked their heads toward the second distraction Sam had triggered, Xander slipped back inside the restroom. The water on the ground was now above his shoes as it raced toward the overwhelmed drain in the center of the floor. He sloshed his way through water toward the first stall against the wall, just like Sam’s message directed. After opening the stall door and closing the lid on the toilet, he hoisted himself to the ceiling and popped in the tile. Per Sam’s correspondence there was a small gym bag, a bright-yellow collapsible sign that read, “Sorry for the inconvenience. This restroom is closed,” and a two-piece squeegee. Xander used the handicap rail as a shelf for the bag and wasted no time opening it and putting on the janitor suit and hat Sam had provided. It was a hunter-green one-piece suit that zipped up the front. He balanced himself on the toilet seat and slid into the janitor’s uniform. It was plenty big enough to put on over and conceal his suit. At the bottom of the bag he found a pair of gloves; he put them on and then took out the earpiece and slid it inside his right ear. There was also a three-inch piece of chrome pipe that would stop the water at the sink and a metal tube that housed the syringe Xander would use to kill Kulakov. He stepped down from the seat, slid the cased syringe down in the uniform’s front pocket, and screwed the handle of the squeegee together as he made his way to the sink. The piece of pipe from the bag connected to the sink pipe exactly the way Sam had intended and stopped the water from continuing to run out into the restroom. Using the squeegee, he pushed the remaining bit of water toward another drain that sat under the urinals.
“Twelve seconds,” Sam’s voice whispered into his ear.
Xander went back to the stall, grabbed the yellow sign, and made his way back outside the restroom. He placed the sign on the floor in front of the door and pulled his hat down lower on his head.
Sam finished the count. “Three . . . two . . . one . . .”
Erik Kulakov rounded the corner at that very moment and stopped short of the yellow sign. He tucked his program under his plaid-covered arm, adjusted his glasses, and read the sign.
“Is the restroom closed?” Kulakov asked Xander in a faint but still detectable Russian accent.
Xander picked up the sign and waved him in. Kulakov walked into the restroom, and as soon as the door shut, Xander replaced the sign in front of the door and walked back inside the restroom. He twisted the lock on the door, ensuring no one else could enter. At the urinal now, his back to Xander, stood a man responsible for the death and destruction of the lives of countless young people in the Louisville area. It amazed Xander that even though he knew these people were awful and disgusting humans, it never got easier to take a life. However, letting more innocent people die at his hands was not acceptable, and he would not let families lose their loved ones to the actions of a monster the way he had so tragically lost his parents years ago.
No one deserves that pain.
Xander stepped toward Kulakov as he urinated. Thoughts of his parents’ murder flashed in his head as he wrapped one arm around Kulakov’s upper body and pinned him against the urinal. Before Kulakov could react, Xander cupped his free hand around Kulakov’s neck, and with a blood choke he squeezed his hand together in a way that compressed both the carotid arteries and the jugular veins, without compressing the airway. This technique causes cerebral ischemia and a temporary hypoxic condition in the brain, essentially starving the brain of blood. When well applied, as it was in that moment, this blood choke leads to unconsciousness in a matter of seconds. If held for more than twelve seconds, it can lead to death. Kulakov struggled inside Xander’s grip, but his hold was so tight that he barely even moved. For Xander it was like holding down a four-year-old.
Three . . . four . . . five . . .
Xander counted in his head. At five seconds he felt Kulakov’s body slump in his arms. This technique worked the same way as the rear naked choke he had applied many times while training Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Kulakov was unconscious now, but Xander didn’t want him to wake up before he had administered the deadly dose of krokodil that awaited him in the syringe. He thought it fitting for this monster to die from the same drug he had killed so many others with. Not to mention it would be better if the press made him out to be a coward who took his own life.
Six . . . seven . . . eight . . .
This choke was perfect for the autopsy as well because there would be no sign of foul play. Xander had practiced this choke a thousand times to ensure there would be no marks on the neck upon release. He let go of the choke at the count of ten and dragged Kulakov’s limp body, at the underarms, over to the toilet seat in the designated stall. Upon lifting the top of the seat he placed Kulakov in a seated position and pulled the syringe from his front pocket. Since Kulakov’s pants were already down, it was easiest just to use the femoral artery as the injection site. Xander slid the needle in. About three inches down from his genitals on the inner thigh to be exact. He felt the skin give a small pop as he pressed the needle into his dark curly-hair-covered leg. The dark brown liquid krokodil inside the tube of the syringe slowly disappeared as Xander pressed the plunger closer and closer to its base. Sam had loaded enough of a dose to kill two grown men. The krokodil was now coursing through Kulakov’s veins, silently killing him as he sat unconscious. Xander retracted the needle once the dose had been fully administered and placed the syringe in Kulakov’s cold, dead hand. Xander then began to change out of the maintenance suit.
“Xander, there is a maintenance man moving your sign right now. Whatever you hear outside, just finish what you are doing just as planned.” Sam came through over his earpiece. The next sound Xander heard was a shaking of the locked door to the bathroom. Xander didn’t pause for a moment as he undressed and replaced everything exactly as he had found it. He knew Sam would take care of any potential problem.
He heard Sam’s voice in his earpiece again. “Hello, sir, could you please help me for just a moment? I know you are busy, but I can’t find my daughter and I really need you to take me to someone who can help.”
Xander knew this was her distracting the maintenance man. He replaced the ceiling tile, then stepped down and around Kulakov’s body to the ground. He closed the stall door behind him and walked over to the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times and straightened his tie.
“No worse for the wear,” he said aloud.
The same couldn’t be said for Erik Kulakov. As savage as killing another human was, Xander knew he was leaving the world a better place. The only thing that scared him about what just happened had nothing to do with the act itself. It was that the very first thing that crossed his mind as he slid the needle into Erik’s skin was Natalie. He had no idea what that meant; he just knew that for an assassin it probably wasn’t good.
12
Say Hello to the King
Xander took one last look in the mirror, then made his way out the restroom door.
“There you are, Mr. King.” Rory rounded the corner of the wall just as Xander walked out. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Miss Rockwell said
you went down for the interview but you weren’t there. Is everything okay?”
The irony of the question was almost enough to make Xander laugh, but he refrained. “Everything is fine, Rory. Let’s go get this over with so I can get everyone down to the paddock before we walk out to the track with Ransom.”
“Of course. I’ll go and get everyone from the box while you do the interview, and we will meet you in the paddock,” Rory replied.
Xander followed Rory through the mezzanine. Along the way his eyes found Sam, and he simply gave her a solemn nod. Rory and Xander walked down another set of stairs and outside through a small concrete tunnel. The crowd swelled now; one television they passed posted a graphic that read “140,000 people in attendance.” The sounds of hundreds of conversations and a fair share of drunken laughs filled the air around them on the way to the paddock. So, too, did a waft of beer from the cups around him. A drink sounded real good right about now. A few more strides and Rory dropped Xander off at a makeshift news setup right in front of the paddock where the twenty Thoroughbreds running that day were now being saddled before the big race. Rory introduced Xander to Jonathan Winters of ABC sports, and simultaneously a makeup artist began to paint Xander’s face lightly with a brush, preparing him for the bright lights of the camera.
“Okay, Tommy, we ready? Mr. King, I’m Jonathan Winters.” A tall, handsome silver-haired man reached out his hand. Xander recognized his tanned and withered face from years of seeing it on sportscasts all over the world.
Xander King BoxSet Page 8
