Zero Degrees Part 3: Miss Murderess

by Leo Sullivan

  I opened my eyes slightly and could have sworn I saw her standing over the trash can. My eyelids were heavy as hell, but the image of her taking the bag out made me want to get up. Maybe it was all in my head, which was foggy as shit at that point. Fuck it. I was just imagining shit. A nigga had to sleep. The Henney and that helluva nut had taken over and I had nothing left.

  Chapter 11

  ZERO

  I was just about to panic, go in my purse and grab my nine as the Russians entered. Instead I paused and waited. To engage them in a shootout would be suicide. I needed a strategy.

  I needed to get away from the dead body and out the door.

  I needed to be in close proximity of my enemy if I was to give myself any chance at battle with them.

  The closer, the better my chances were of not being used for target practice and getting shot. Up close would give me the advantage to strike with deadly force.

  The first Russian that entered was a mammoth of a man with a broad chest and shoulders that filled the entire door way. He was built like a linebacker and wore a dark salt and pepper beard. There were several other men behind him. I could vaguely make out the other Russian only the fact that he was tall and had red hair and blue eyes. There weren’t any more men behind him.

  The big Russian tried to halt my movement with an outreached hand as he spoke something inaudible in his dialect. His thick baritone voice boomed and his face was scarlet red like he was agitated about something as he yelled at me.

  I shrugged my shoulders as if I was telling him that I didn’t know.

  I tried my best to activate my feminine charm. Lord knows I needed to get my ass out of that damn room with that dead body, fast!

  I tried to brush by him, but he attempted to grab my arm. I side stepped him. That was when time moved in slow motion and my body was in tune with the universe with hand to hand combat. Everything I had been trained to do under those exact circumstance kicked in as I moved my body to a rhythm in my mind.

  I slammed my elbow into his face and heard the bone and gristle snap as his neck jerked back. His legs staggered and nearly buckled as blood gushed from his nose. He groaned loudly in agonizing pain, yet he was still trying to grab me. I reached for my nine all in one quick motion then shoved the barrel in in his chest. With three swift pulls of the trigger I shot him at point blank range:

  Psssp! Psssp! Psssp!

  The silencer on the nine whistled like metallic snaps of a finger as the big man’s body jerked. The shots barely stopped his momentum because he managed to grab me. I kneed him viciously in his nuts over and over at a jack hammer’s speed until his big ass let me go. That was when I saw it!

  It was too late.

  A red haired dude aimed a 45. Russian Lugar with a barrel that looked big enough to put my fist in. I moved and leapt with a swift kick. I was motivated from fear and the desire not to be killed as my body propelled forward in the air. For some reason my eyes were closed when I felt my foot come in contact with my assailant’s chin and neck as shots rang out.

  BLOCKA! BLOCKA! BLOCKA! BLOCKA…

  The red haired Russian dude was firing blindly at me causing my ears to ring. Then I felt something hot hit my leg, and hand. My body was on fire and my gun fell to the floor as my body shifted into overdrive of survival instincts.

  The red head dude’s gun came spinning across the carpeted floor. He was stunned from the kick as he struggled slightly trying to keep his bearings and recover while his eyes moved around in his head like game room pinballs.

  We moved in perfect sequence in a duel to the death. The tall Russian was mentally stalking me. At the time I didn’t know how badly I was leaking blood. All I knew was I had been shot and there was no training for that as I began to feel nauseous.

  My nine was on the floor right next to my leg. To have any chance, I needed to pick it up. Just as I reached for it the redhead Russian slammed his muscular body into me. My five foot seven one hundred and forty pound body was violently crushed against the wall! An expensive panting came crashing down to the floor and the wind was knocked out of me. I was seeing stars and that’s when I realized that my right leg was partially paralyzed from being shot. I had lost a lot of speed and mobility.

  I struggled to breath.

  I was losing consciousness…

  I was no match for the Russian giant.

  He began to pummel me with his fists in my face. I felt a cut open up above my right eye and saw more stars as he beat me mercilessly. In the door way through a blurry murky haze, I could see a man watching us. It then dawned on me that it was the blonde Russian.

  Wham! Wham! Wham!

  He struck me again, and again with punishing blows. It was more pain than I had ever experienced in my life. I was trapped between the wall and my Russian assailant pressed against me as my mind churned…

  Wham! Wham!

  I had been taught a counter move for every move. I had a maneuver that Black had taught me to use in that same kind of situation. It was risky and dangerous as hell, but I didn’t have much choice.

  With all the meager strength I had left, I shoved the dude as he swung and used his force as he swung again. I pulled him to me and ducked down just as his face came crashing against the wall. I dropped to the floor between his legs, sprang up behind him and lassoed my forearm under his chin with the other behind his neck in a vice grip. Once applied properly it was like a death grip. In Jujitsu it was known as the “yoke hold”. The more he resisted, the tighter the grip got.

  Like a deadly Boa Constrictor, I held on to his neck and began to tighten slowly. Cutting off his oxygen, along with his blood circulation, he thrashed and fought as he squirmed around with me like he was in drunken slumber.

  I choked harder and was satisfied when I felt his throat tighten under my ‘yoke hold.”

  He couldn’t breath

  Death would come soon.

  “Makur! Makur!”

  The huge man cried as he frantically hit my arm like he was tapping out from a caged match and expected me to let him go while he called for his buddy. His face looked like a red, ripe tomato.

  “Makur!!”

  His life was about to be terminated. The blonde Russian, who was by then chewing down on his fingernails as he looked at us petrified, had been caught up in the violent tragedy of an unmerciful death.

  He looked like he didn’t want to be there. Suddenly me and the big Russian came crashing down to the floor, toppling over like an old oak tree.

  The blonde Russian screamed and got out the way as we landed next to him.

  As I held on to the “yoke hold” for what felt like an eternity and counted off seconds in my head, I could hear Black in my ear yelling at me. He was asking what was going on as blood dripped from my hand into the man’s eyes from where a bullet had passed through my hand.

  Somehow I managed to hold the man’s neck in a death grip twenty seconds longer then I had been trained. I had to make sure he was dead as I struggled to breath. I was out of breath, short winded and tired like I had just ran a marathon. All of my energy was depleted as I pushed the dead Russian off me

  I tried to get up, but couldn’t. I could hear what sounded like police sirens in the distance as I grabbed a gun from the floor and aimed it at the blonde Russian.

  He exclaimed while flailing his arms in the air frantically like he didn’t want to get shot. He spoke up in the most feminine, tenor soft voice I’d ever heard a man speak.

  “Girrrrrl don’t hurt me! I didn’t want to have nothin’ ta’ do with that mess!”

  His English was near perfect and he was certainly as gay as RuPaul. I don’t know why I didn’t pick up on that shit when I first saw him. He shifted his hips and threw up both his hands like he was a damn innocent victim. Occasionally his eyes would skirt around the room at all the dead bodies.

  “I never liked any of them anyway. I’m not a violent person. Moskv was a pig and he constantly abused me. I was his damn sex slave. He only use
d me on his bodyguard detail to keep me close to him so he could watch me.”

  The gay dude was talking a mile a minute and moving his lips faster than his tongue as he gestured with his hands and bent wrist in an animated way.

  What he had just revealed about Moskv explained the looks he was giving me while we sat at the table. It also explained Moskv’s obsession with anal sex.

  I didn’t trust him as I looked up at the door. I didn’t see anybody else. The room began to strobe around me. I tried to get up, but couldn’t. Something was wrong with my leg.

  Black was still yelling in my damn ear asking me what the hell was going on.

  “I’m shot! I can’t get up. There are three dead bodies including Moskv’s. There is one left, but I have him at gun point,” I said as I struggled to get up, but still couldn’t. The dead man I had just choked to death stared at me with his eyes wide open.

  I heard Black gasp pensively. “Oh, my God,” he mumbled in my ear.

  The entire time the gay dude was looking at me terrified. For some reason his legs moved like he had to pee. He was all jittery and could have easily fled the room, or better yet killed me if he had a weapon.

  “Zero! Zero! Do as you have been trained. The Russian police, the notorious KGB, are on the way up. As we speak they are about to board the elevator. You must kill the lone Russian in the room with you and then follow protocol by making the “ultimate sacrifice”. Take the earplug out and swallow it! If the KGB gets their hands on you, you pose a risk to the highest U.S.A. Government security. Do you understand? Do as I say! He barked at me.

  “Yes…yes, Okay,” I responded meekly. I was starting to black out as I went in and out of consciousness. I took the plug out of my ear as I aimed the nine at dude. He screamed an ear shattering high pitch screech and jumped three feet off the floor.

  Chapter 12

  ZERO

  “Noooooo! Pah-lessss! Don’t shot me! I love America! I love Christ Brown, Drank, and Lil’ Dwayne… all ya’ll. Pah-lesss don’t shoot me!” He waved his hands as he whined in a feminine twang for me not to shoot him.

  I was prepared to place the earplug laced with cyanide in my mouth. Images of my father, my mother, Zeus, everything that I loved, everything that I missed flashed in my mind like a montage of black and white cinematic images. It all happened in slow motion as a single tear cascaded down my cheek. My bloody hand shook as I took aim and then raised the cyanide to my mouth. Then, I faintly remember passing out in a semi-conscious state, but I was still awake. I could see and hear everything.

  ****

  I remember being lifted, to my feet and almost carried when I came to not even ten seconds later. The blonde gay Russian had his arms underneath me. My gun was still loosely dangling from my hand. For some reason he was crying sadly about something and mumbling as he kicked the door open with his large foot.

  Out in the crowded hall people gawked at us and scattered nearly causing a stampede as they got out of the way. I was covered in blood with a gun hanging from my right hand. However, my senses were starting to come back with clarity. The entire time dude mopped at the blood that was on my face sentimentally as I began to hobble on my good leg, leaving a fresh trail of blood. I pulled away from him, still having the urge to shot his ass, but I couldn’t.

  He was trying to help me.

  But why?

  He followed me into my room across the hall. We were in there no more than ten seconds. My leg was in excruciating pain, and so was my hand. The bleeding wouldn’t stop so I grabbed a towel, my push cart, and my cashmere hoody coat before we took off for the elevators.

  On the way out of my room a hotel security guard tried to stop us with his hand thrust forward as he reached for his hoisted weapon.

  PSSSP! PSSSP!

  “Shit!” The blonde Russian yelped.

  I shot the security guard twice and watched him keel over as his fingers clasped at his stomach, Bright, scarlet blood spread like a red plague beneath his back as we stepped over him.

  More panic!

  More pandemonium!

  People scattered!

  Just as we walked toward the elevators several yards away, the doors dinged open and armed militia of police stormed out with their guns drawn in the congested hallway.

  I was trapped as I stood perfectly still with agonizing pain running throughout my body. All the training in the world could not have prepared me for that.

  “It’s the KGB,” the blonde dude known as Makur said under his breath and towed me to the right. Only a few feet ahead was the stair case. As soon as we entered and closed the door, he shattered the tiny glass encased in a red frame and pulled the fire alarm with his huge fist.

  The loud piercing sound damn near shattered my eardrum as water began to spew from the water sprinklers, wetting my hair and clothes.

  We made it all the way down to the main floor. As we stopped out there were KGB officers everywhere with guns pointed. The hotel staff and guests were being urgently escorted from the building for security reasons, but only after being carefully scrutinized visually.

  We approached the lobby door with the KGB positioned in front. I looked down and my leg was soiled with blood because I was bleeding so badly. Markur saw it too as the KGB officer dressed in a starched black uniform looked my way and then nudged his comrade to pay attention to us coming. My nine was in my hand concealed under the jacket I had put on in the room before I left. My other hand was bleeding badly. I held it out of his view behind my back.

  I wasn’t certain if I was going to have to start blasting. Thank God Markur walked in front of me and took over like he had authority.

  He stopped, said something to the Russian police and showed them his security badge from working with Markv. The KGB police looked down at my leg and then scrambled to make a path for me.

  “What did you say?” I asked gritting my teeth as we stepped out into the grisly cold. Just as we did a fire truck pulled up.

  “I told them I was head of Gregory Moskv’s security team and you were his maid that had fell and hurt yourself while coming down the stairs.” The snow was at least a foot deep and was still falling turbulently. I found myself staring at the very handsome Russian as we trudged the snow, and ice. My teeth slightly chattered from being wet and exposed to the harsh cold. My body was used to the extreme temperature after my time in Alaska, so I sucked up my discomfort and pain. Shit, I had to get the fuck out of there.

  “Follow me. I have a vehicle.” He must’ve read my mind

  We reached a cream colored, brand new Mercedes 350 E Class Benz and when he was opening the door for me, someone shouted his name.

  “Markur!

  “Hurry, get in!”

  We hopped into the car and took off.

  “Who was that?” I asked grimacing in pain as I let the seat back. I was surprised at Markur’s expert driving skills in the snow as we sped along a deserted street reaching speeds of nearly eighty miles an hour.

  He looked in his review mirror as he turned a corner and replied, “That was two more of Gregory Moskv’s security. Luckily we didn’t run into them on our way out of the hotel, or we would be dead.” He then smacked his lips as he turned, looked at me and blinked his girly eyes for emphasis.

  We turned another corner as he checked his review mirror again.

  I placed the nine on my lap in plain view as I asked, “Why did you help me? Don’t you know I was going to kill you if I hadn’t blacked out for a moment back there?”

  “I know, but you helped me by killing Moskv! That man was crazy. Let me tell you. Thank you Jesus for killing him and the rest of those fools. You’re a bad bitch!” Markur said and glanced down at the blood I was leaking in his car. “We gotta get you to a hospital,” he said with a frown and patted my arm.

  I swear it was like I was with one of my girlfriends. I had to ask though.

  “Where did you learn to speak English like that?” I writhed around in pain. It felt like I was going to pa
ss out.

  Markur was one of those gay dudes who liked to use his hands and neck when he talked. I swear, he was so damn handsome. In another life time I would have given him some.

  “I went to one of those student exchange programs and attended Georgia State University in Atlanta several years ago. That’s where I got exposed to black culture, well mainly black men. They turned my ass out. I was there for ten years before I came back. That was after I got a generous proposal from the dick head billionaire Gregory Moskv. I met him on a dating web site. He agreed to buy me anything I wanted if I came back to Russia. I did and he got me immunity for my charges of being in the US illegally. Biggest mistake I could have ever made. Yes he did put thousands into my bank account and even bought me extravagant gifts, cars, and homes, but when he started to drink he would get violent and was too kinky for me. He always wanted to handcuff me and stick a twelve inch long butt plug up my…well…you know. I won’t even tell you about the times he wanted me to shit on him.”

  “Ugh,” I muttered as I looked down to examine my leg. It was a flesh wound. Like my hand, the bullet had gone straight through.

  Markur looked out of the window staring at something when he said in astonishment, “I’ve seen a lot of things in my twenty eight years, but I have never seen a chick kick ass the way you did. That’s the kind of shit you see on TV. Girlll, where did you learn that from?”

  For some reason I was honest as I thought about Black and his instructions. Then there was the ultimate sacrifice bullshit. I was supposed to kill myself, so I blurted it all out to the stranger who had helped me.

  “I was trained to be an assassin. I’m not afraid to kill and I did it for the first time when I was a young girl,” I said feeling like an outcast.

  Markur turned and leered at me for a second as we passed abandoned houses and a snow covered landscape.

  “Well, I’d hate to see somebody try to jump you in a dark alleyway.” He smiled and then asked on a serious note. “Are you going to be okay? I’m taking you to a hospital in a village near where I grew up. It’s run by some locals who love and support America. Don’t worry. No one will find you there.”