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Tea Leafing: A Novel

Page 26

by Weezie Macdonald


  “Snotty bitch” said Nestor, forgetting for the moment that Roman was absent. Then he turned with anticipation to the box of dumplings. He noticed that the Lada, exiting the gate, shut off its lights for one second and then turned them back on again. A question lingered at the edge of his mind for a moment, and then was crowded out by thoughts of the delicious pastries. “Best in Yekaterinburg” he thought.

  However, the white-clad watchers in the woods at the edge of the compound, hidden as they were by the recent snowfall, did not misinterpret the light flash.

  CHAPTER 94

  Butthead was feeling sorely vexed. And Bevis was becoming rather peckish. After all, wouldn’t being plucked from a swamp in northern Luzon or the jungle in Columbia respectively, then flown half way around the world annoy anyone? Russia’s frigid climate was terrible for the cold-blooded creatures. Then those warm things, thrown as they were into the box, brought B & B quickly to life. On edge. Nervous. Alert.

  Suddenly the box was flooded with light. Butthead, with marginally quicker reflexes, sprayed venom toward the top of the looming entity. Bevis simply struck.

  Nestor, instantly blind with burning cobra venom and with a viper firmly attached to his right hand, howled with pain and fear. For a human, Nestor’s 6-foot 6-inch stature and 320 pounds of muscle would have made him a daunting opponent, bad foot and all. But, to a snake, he was simply too big to eat and too big to ignore.

  CHAPTER 95

  Spartak thought he heard a muffled yell from the direction of the guard shack. “Has Roman finally arrived?” He wondered. “Maybe that no-good drunk and Nestor have gotten into it. Serve them right. Why do I always have to be the brains of the operation?” Though clearly the largest and strongest of the three, Spartak had the least claim on being the operation’s brains. If, indeed, the operation had anything at all resembling brains.

  As he crested the hill that separated the big house from the guard shack, Spartak was astounded to see the door of the shack fly open. Nestor emerged, running and waving something in his right hand. Nestor ran in the general direction of Spartak, but after about 20 meters collapsed into the snow and was still.

  Spartak instinctively checked his Kevlar vest. Still there. Comfort. Then warily approached Nestor.

  He almost made it.

  CHAPTER 96

  Guillaume was not happy lying prone in the snow. For one thing, it must be 5,000 kilometers from sunny Marseille to where he was now lying. For another, it was too cold to use a telescopic sight because nothing in the world could keep it from fogging up in this climate. That meant old-fashioned iron sights. Then there was the question of a single, clean head shot. And a silencer. Damn silencer. The information source was sure the target would be wearing body armor.

  The contractor had also wanted a mercury round. There were only a few snipers on planet earth who would risk using one of those, and most of them he knew personally in Marseille. As far as he knew, JFK was the last successful use of mercury, and that was 40 years ago. Guillaume drew the line at mercury. The job was difficult enough as it was. But the Capo said “go” and he went.

  Just as the big man crested the hill, another idiot came staggering out of the guard shack, waving something. That guy was big too. “But, Jesus, look at the size of that guy.” Guillaume wondered if he was as big as Goliath. He remembered the priest quoting the book of Samuel and saying that the shaft of Goliath’s spear was as thick as a weaver’s beam. Guillaume was uncertain what a weaver’s beam actually looked like or how big it might be.

  Guillaume crossed himself and leaned into the task he’d come so far to do. There was a dull thud. For a moment, time stood still. Then Goliath stumbled and fell. He did not get up.

  On this occasion David had used a SV-99 5.56 mm sniper rifle rather than five smooth stones.

  CHAPTER 97

  Half a dozen white-camouflaged figures rose from the prone position to a low crouch. One of them said something in Japanese. Then he pointed at Guillaume and said “Restez-vous. Cachez-vous” Guillaume hunkered down in the snow. The other six crested the hill and were gone.

  CHAPTER 98

  “He was brutally tortured.” Joe shut his eyes. “Sadistic.” The word hung in the air while he composed his thoughts. “When the authorities entered the house they found his head along with those of his wife and two young daughters lined up on a table in the foyer.”

  The crowd at Piedmont Mall shuffled past the small group, clustered together on a bench outside Sephora.

  The girls stared at Joe, and Grace looked like she was about to demonstrate her infamous super power.

  “Their mouths were stuffed with rubles. Obviously, it wasn’t just a random act of violence.” Pausing, Joe searched their faces. “Is anyone ready to tell me what really happened that night?”

  “No,” Sam cleared her throat. “You’re a cop.”

  “I’m a Fed, Sam.”

  “Whatever. You aren’t in a position where knowing details will help you. We’ve given you everything that’s pertinent, and if you want to bust us, you’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”

  “I don’t want to arrest any of you, whatever it is you did,” Joe paused and looked at his hands, “Okay, maybe it’s my job, but I couldn’t do that. I know your motives and although it goes against everything I’ve been trained to do, I just can’t.”

  Tears pooled in Grace’s eyes. “His family?” she paused, “His whole family?”

  Joe lowered his gaze and nodded.

  “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe his whole family was killed,” Grace mumbled with a glazed, thousand yard stare.

  Joe nodded, “The old-school Italian mob is the only one that protects women and children. Almost every other organization will take out anyone in their way.”

  “At least the children weren’t orphaned,” Mary Jane’s voice cracked as she dug for a tissue in her bag.

  Sam snaked her arm around Mary Jane and gripped her shoulder, forcing her head under Sam’s chin. She could feel Mary Jane’s loneliness.

  “How bad was it?” Birdie chimed in.

  “Birdie!” Grace snapped, still wrestling with the waves of nausea.

  “Bad enough, Bird.” Joe squinted. “Lots of damage was done before they blessed them with death.”

  “Can I see the pictures sometime?” Birdie pressed.

  Joe glanced up at her, “You’re one fucked up girl, aren’t you?”

  Birdie nodded and smiled.

  “You can take that to the bank!” Mary Jane added, trying to pull herself back together.

  Joe rose from his seat on the bench they’d clustered around at Lennox Mall. Stretching toward the sky, he tried to release the knotted tension from his body. “Well, I guess that’s about it.” He glanced at his watch.

  The girls stood and hugged him in turn, each whispering her thanks. Joe turned to head off down the crowded corridor, then paused and turned back to the girls.

  “By the way, I thought you’d be interested to know,” Joe leaned in closer, “a photographer from Atlanta was arrested in Savannah on charges of attempted child molestation.”

  “Was this the same . . .?” Sam’s voice trailed off.

  Joe nodded, “Yup. He was working for Fedya. He was at the funeral and apparently his hobby involved little girls. Anyway, I don’t think he’ll be bothering Amanda anymore.”

  He winked and disappeared into the crowd.

  CHAPTER 99

  A young black girl was running through a field of cotton, the plants a little more than knee high. The song she sang to herself was barely audible over the rustling wind that shook the buds bearing white puffs of cotton. The view of the girl became clearer as the vantage point moved overhead. Drifting down into the body of the little girl, Tanya realized this was the child she always knew she was.

  Plopping herself down in one of the rows, she stroked the cotton with her fingertips, careful not to touch the dried, dark brown shells from which they sprouted. Her d
ress was a butter-colored smock, flocked with small pink and yellow flowers and two patch pockets that marked her hipbones. Feeling the breeze lift her hair, she could smell the pungent odor of the red Georgia clay. Looking across the crop was like seeing the South’s version of freshly fallen snow — only warmer and pricklier.

  She sensed a presence behind her, sharing the dream. She glanced over the ruffled shoulder of her summer dress, and behind her, another young girl approached, smiling broadly.

  Tanya pushed her young frame up from the packed earth where she’d been sitting and dusted off the clumps of dirt that clung to her legs. She gazed intently at her approaching friend.

  “Lena?” she whispered.

  Lena was standing within arms reach. Her dress fluttered weightlessly around her. Tanya wondered how she managed to stay so clean out in the field. Holding out her hand to Tanya, she remained peacefully silent.

  Tanya took the offered hand and felt a surge of energy. Love, hope and serenity flooded her body, and it seemed as if answers to all questions were revealed in her mind. She felt at peace. She knew with certainty this was Lena. She wasn’t sure how she knew. She just knew. She also wasn’t sure how long they stood that way, talking to each other without opening their mouths. It wasn’t long enough.

  Beep. Click. Pshoooo. Beep. Click.

  Physical pain washed over Tanya as the sun-drenched South Georgia day faded away. She felt like she’d been thrown from a cliff, maybe even a little worse. Every bone and muscle in her body felt bruised and broken. As the vision dimmed, Lena blew her a kiss and slowly dissolved.

  Beep. Click. Pshooo.

  Still groggy from the anesthesia, Tanya moaned announcing her return to the world. Opening her eyes, she squinted in the brightly lit recovery room. Jarred back to reality, it dawned on her that she’d made it. Her left arm was tethered by an intravenous line. Gently moving her free hand down her body, she felt breasts. They were strapped down by bandages, but even still, they were hers. Further down, the source of the most intense stabbing pain she’d ever felt, was a thick bandage . . . and no penis.

  Laying her head back on the crinkly paper pillowcase, she smiled. She thought about the body she’d always been mismatched with. All was right and good in the world. Remembering bits and pieces of her dream with Lena made her heart swell. Remembering the sense of peace that had overcome her was clear as a bell, but the answers to that myriad of questions lurked just beyond the fringes of her memory.

  A nurse with pucker-pink lipstick hustled over to Tanya’s bedside. She began speaking rapidly to another nurse behind a large desk at the center of the room. Lifting a glass bottle from a metal cart, she began filling a syringe.

  The nurse grasped the injection plug branching from the IV tube and slid the needle home, speeding the medication toward Tanya’s vein. As quickly as she had awakened, she was off again.

  CHAPTER 100

  Sun filtered through the trees. Wind picked up corners of the blanket the girls had spread across Lena’s grave. A picnic basket loaded with fruit, wine, meats and cheeses sat in the center.

  “So, um, we’ve got a little something for you, sweet pea.” Sam said, pulling an envelope from the basket. The other three straightened up and stared at Amanda.

  “You guys didn’t have to get me anything! What’re you thinkin’?”

  “Well, there is a catch. You’ll have to keep it quiet.”

  Amanda tilted her head. “Okay, but I’m not sure I understand.”

  Sam handed her the envelope. She spoke while Amanda peeled open the flap and peered inside.

  “This was Fedya’s true love. It was the tax he owed for what he did.” Sam cleared her throat, fighting back the lump that was developing. “Lena’s life was worth so much more than this, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Amanda’s mouth dropped open, “but . . .”

  Birdie chimed in, “We did it Amanda. We facked that greedy old bastad — straight up the arse.”

  Grace cringed, “Birdie, please! We’re trying to have a moment here. No more talk about ass fucking.”

  Amanda was still frozen in place.

  Sam continued, “We took what was his and divided it evenly. This is your share.”

  “I can’t possibly . . . I . . . you four . . . Please, I didn’t do anything. I can’t accept this.” Amanda stammered.

  “There is a fifth that you’ll meet. Her name is Tanya. She was another friend of your sister’s. She’s making a speedy recovery from recent surgery, so she couldn’t make it today. But she’s anxious to meet you, sweetheart.”

  “The numbers above the amount are for a bank account in Singapore. The account is in your name, so you can access it anytime you want. You can have a beautiful life and do an enormous amount of good with this nest egg.” Mary Jane winked and pulled Amanda into a hug.

  “But . . . ,” Amanda started to protest again.

  “We ain’t poor eitha’ luv. Remembah, we ‘ave our cuts too. Don’t worry about us. We ‘ave to live business as usual so we don’t raise any suspicions. As do you. It’s nice to ‘ave somethin’ tucked away fo’ a rainy day though.”

  Mary Jane poured three glasses of wine and two sparkling ciders, one each for Sam and Amanda. Birdie, Grace, Mary Jane, Amanda, and Sam all raised their glasses in a toast.

  “To you four, for never giving up.” Amanda smiled.

  “To friendship,” said Mary Jane.

  “To love,” added Grace.

  “To ’ell with it all!” shouted Birdie.

  “To Lena,” said Sam.

  Table of Contents

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead...

  For Martin.PROLOGUEAtlanta, GeorgiaAutumn 2004

  PROLOGUEAtlanta, GeorgiaAutumn 2004

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4“Mom?”

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6Fyodor Il’yavitch Patrushev

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36“Brilliant!” Birdie

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54“Hump Day.”

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  CHAPTER 73

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  CHAPTER 79

  C
HAPTER 80

  CHAPTER 81

  CHAPTER 82

  CHAPTER 83

  CHAPTER 84

  CHAPTER 85

  CHAPTER 86

  CHAPTER 87

  CHAPTER 88

  CHAPTER 89

  CHAPTER 90

  CHAPTER 91

  CHAPTER 92

  CHAPTER 93

  CHAPTER 94

  CHAPTER 95

  CHAPTER 96

  CHAPTER 97

  CHAPTER 98

  CHAPTER 99

  CHAPTER 100

 

 

 


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