Nicola was speechless. He wasn’t aware that Anatoly even had a daughter. And no one that he knew on any law enforcement agency was aware that Anya had been stolen or even that she existed. However, it did put things into perspective for Nicola. It proved that the Medlov men were actually human.
“Well, we could always use another hand then,” Nicola said, changing his tune. “By all means, if you want to get your hands dirty killing drug dealers and mangling pedophiles, who am I to stop you?”
Anatoly looked at his watch. It was already six thirty. “Back to the agenda.”
Nicola looked over at his bomb guy who was in the corner of the room carefully connecting wires to his latest masterpiece. “I need a bomb for breakfast. And I need a hit team for dinner. During lunch, I plan to call in some other friends on the force who will help me lock down Cane’s second drop point. It’s a strip club that Twist used to own called Lollipop.”
Anatoly nodded. “Gabriel knows the place well.” He looked over at his cousin and smirked.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I’m in too. Just tell me where you want me. Hell, I haven’t done any real cop work in a while.”
Anatoly took off his jacket and laid it on the table. Finally, he could have a real bachelor’s party before the nuptials. “Well now you have two additional men. Just make it interesting. Boris, get us some gear.”
***
Vasily felt as though he had stepped out of reality and landed in some western film from another century. Looking around what was considered to be Guymon, Oklahoma from the top of the metal stairs attached to his boss’ leer jet; he slipped on his black designer shades and checked his Rolex.
9:30 a.m. on the dot.
Two hours was all that he was giving himself to get what he came for and get the hell out of this state. Alone for his trip, he hiked down the staircase and jumped into the black SUV waiting for him on the tarmac while the stewardess watched from the opening of the door hatch.
The drive to Keyes, Oklahoma was about fifty miles away through flat undeveloped land as far as the eye could see. There was little commerce in the area with a population that was 90 percent white, most of whom had never seen or spoken with a real Russian. The average income was below $50,000 a year, less than the price of his watch. And the town folk were sure to be nosy as hell.
He was headed to see a Roxanna Little aka Roxie Lite. His boss had told him that this woman was his priority for the moment. “A necessary means to a desired end,” was how Dmitry had referred to her. So as far as Vasily was concerned, nothing else in this world mattered except finding and extracting this woman. In two hours.
***
After Cane had killed his father and burned down the pharmacy many years ago, he had it rebuilt and took it over with the goal of making it a regular drop stop. Hiring only handpicked, cooperative pharmacists who also moonlighted on his team as chemists who prepared his Molly, he had learned the value of having legitimate businesses to cover for his illegal ones. Before he had killed Twist, he had begged his old partner to go half with him on building new pharmacies all over town and expanding their static locations, but Twist had said no, claiming that it would bring too much attention to them and eventually land them in jail. It was decisions just like that one that had prompted him to kill him in the first place.
Now that Cane was completely in charge, he planned to revisit his initial idea and buy up buildings in different areas around the city where he already had a lot of users and bring his vision in to fruition.
It all started with today.
While he sat outside of his makeshift warehouse in the woods drinking coffee and listening to the chirping birds, a group of men loaded up the freshly prepped Molly for his first full production delivery into the back of a white delivery van. Packed in small plastic baggies and then stuffed in stolen pharmaceutical boxes, the drugs were finally ready to make their debut on the streets of Memphis.
“Ready boss,” the driver said, closing the back of the truck.
Cane walked over, holding his coffee cup in one hand and a can of snuff in the other. “You boys better make sure that shit gets delivered with no problems. I don’t want no excuses, you hear?”
“Sure thing,” the driver said, nodding obediently. “I’ll be to the pharmacy by seven thirty and to the club by nine. I’m dropping off to Dr. Wayne at the pharmacy and to Hannity at the club,” he said, going over the instructions that had been pounded into his head. “Tonight be back here at five thirty to pick up the shipments for the dealers.”
“No, damn you. Be here at three o’clock. Don’t you think it’s going to look pretty odd you driving through the fucking hood delivering shit to drug dealers after dark? You want to appear like you’re on the up and up, not that you’re carrying $200,000 worth of fucking Molly, you idiot!”
“Three o’clock. Yes, sir.”
“Get out of here,” Cane said, wishing Sammy was there to handle the day-to-day. It had been a mistake to send him to Agosto’s house. Now, he was down a man during the most critical time of the operations, but at least Agosto was dead. It had been worth the cost in the long run.
If he had been able to, he would have put everything on hold until he figured out just what the hell was going on, but he was on a tight deadline with his New York supplier and had to get the product out on the street immediately to start to see a return.
***
The sun was already bright and glaring down on everything under its path by the time that Nicola, Gabriel, and Maurice arrived at their first checkpoint. With a growling stomach, a five-o’clock shadow that was turning into an Armani beard and bad breath that made it hard to breathe, Nicola waited impatiently in the passenger seat of a newly stolen black Tahoe.
“I forgot how much I hated stakeouts,” Gabriel said to Nicola before he pulled out his newspaper. He figured that he might as well get some reading in if they were going to be sitting for a while.
“Yeah, that was never my favorite thing either,” Nicola said pitching the untraceable phone Gabriel had given him on the dashboard of the truck. He wanted to call Ivy badly but could not risk it just yet. Without a word, he slipped on his shades and sunk down in the passenger seat.
Gabriel checked in the rearview mirror for any possible witnesses. “Maurice, what’s your status,” he said into the air piece.
Maurice answered quickly. “I’m on my way back. Package is hot and ready to be opened.” He appeared from the corner of the pharmacy and ran across the street to the SUV parked and waiting.
“Check,” Gabriel answered, back in his old law enforcement mode.
“He is so used to deactivating bombs, until I guess setting off a few is the only thing that keeps him tamed,” Nicola said, watching Maurice drive away. He’d known the guy for years and even before finding out that he was a mole, he knew that he was mildly off.
“Never used him before.” Gabriel sipped out of his Starbuck coffee cup. “I’m sure I will though.” He looked out of the dark tinted window as the delivery truck pulled up to the back of the pharmacy, and then backed into the dock. “Okay. Here we go. Right on time, just like Ferris said. I guess the bastard is good for something.”
“Is that them for sure?” Nicola asked, looking through the binoculars. “I’d hate to kill the wrong men.” He watched the driver jump out and open the back door. As he bent to put down the boxes, his gun holster popped out of his uniform jacket. “Yep, that’s him.”
“Sure?” Gabriel asked.
“How many drivers do you know who wear guns on their deliveries if they aren’t armed car security?” Nicola raised a brow at Gabriel.
Gabriel chuckled. “Everyone who works in Queens.” He opened the middle console and pulled out the black detonator. “You want to do the honors?” Gabriel asked, passing it to Nicola.
Nicola flipped the top of the detonator open and watched as the driver and his partner walked into the back pharmacy. Normally, he would have been concerned about the men, trying t
o find a way to lock them up instead of kill them.
But that was before…
Thinking of his screaming children, he looked over at Gabriel. “Fuck’em all.”
Between Nicola pushing the button across the street from the pharmacy and the time that it took to explode there were only milliseconds of time. Before he could blink, destruction unlike the community had ever seen was unleashed. Nicola and Gabriel reverted back to children at a fireworks show. In utter, quiet excitement they watched the pharmacy explode and large black plumes of red-hot smoke and fire rise up into the morning sky. Along the back of the small pharmacy, the truck connected to the dock also caught on fire and exploded. Glass from the front of the building exploded out on the streets causing passing cars to swerve; bricks flew out onto the parking lot and every single solitary Molly pill was gone.
Quietly Nicola watched one of the men who had not been instantly killed by the bomb run several feet on fire before collapsing to the ground. This gave an entirely different meaning to the old saying if you were on fire, I wouldn’t even piss on you.
He couldn’t help it. Nicola smiled a long easy smile that eventually rose up to a teeth-showing laughter.
Gabriel couldn’t help but laugh to, glad that Nicola was getting some justice. “Well alright. Let’s go get some breakfast,” Gabriel said, pulling off.
34
Cane had not been home in a day and a half, but some of his men had been charged with staying there and maintaining and watching over the large horse farm in his absence. As long as the tyrant was gone, things were relaxed. The guards at the gate played their music and drank Bud Light in the shack; the bodyguards watched television and played video games and some of the other stragglers enjoyed the pool and Jacuzzi.
Ricky, one of Cane’s buddies who had been with him for years, hiked up from the house to the shack with more beer for the men in the mid-afternoon heat, while drinking a beer of his own and smoking a cigarette. It was like a paid-vacation for him. He had taken a bath in Cane’s two-person garden tub, laid in Cane’s extra-large bed and watched Sports Center all morning and did blow right off the dining room table while the maid served up barbeque for breakfast.
When he got to the shack, he knocked on the door and raised the six-pack.
“One of you fuckers order a beverage?” he joked.
The men opened the door and welcomed him. “Now that's what I’m talking about,” one of the men said, grabbing the six-pack. “Bout time, man. Took you thirty minutes to bring’em. We done been ran out.”
Ricky laughed. “I was busy ordering up some cooch for later. Betty says she’s going to bring some girls by.”
The men perked up. “You gotta let us in on the action, man. We’re burning up out here,” one of the guards said, opening the bottle of beer.
“Just don't shit faced before they get here,” Ricky warned. “Girls don't like drunk dick. I don't care what your momma told ya.”
All three broke out in laughter and started to pull out the beers for immediate consumption. However, they were so thoroughly enthralled in their conversation and getting a buzz until they fail to notice the three SUVs approaching at an accelerated speed.
With Cory driving, Nicola was coming fast, approaching the shack at nearly 80 miles an hour down the private street. On cue, he cocked his automatic weapon and cleared his cloudy mind. Letting down the back window, stuck his gun out and prepared.
Right behind him, Gabriel pushed down on the gas and opened the sunroof for Anatoly to squeeze up top. With a hand-held rocket launcher, he aimed at the fortified gate.
“Say ahhh, mother fuckers” Anatoly said, squeezing the trigger.
The thunk of the rocket zipping out of the container was followed by a dead-on impact into the gate. The explosion blew open the complete right half of the shack and the fortified entrance. Before the men inside of the shack could get their bearing, Nicola was unloading his first clip. Bullets rang out like notes of a song. Hitting two of the men while they were still crawling out of the burning shack; Cory stopped so that Nicola could jump out of the truck. He landed on the ground, gun pointed. When Ricky raised his head up out of the rubble, Nicola pulled the trigger and shot a hole through his head. Before the man’s body could fall back down in the pile of debris, Nicola was back inside of the truck.
Maurice and Boris followed as the tail of the convoy, barreling through the burning gate. As soon as they cleared the fire, Boris popped out of the sunroof and when he was in distance of the house, he too unleashed the fury of a rocket, which made impact at the front door. Anatoly and Gabriel headed towards the right side of the mansion; Boris and Maurice headed toward the left side of the house and Nicola and Cory headed straight through the burning door.
The men inside the mansion were completely taken by surprise by the sudden attack. As soon as they heard the commotion at the gate, they grabbed their guns and headed toward Ricky’s aid, but their weapons were inferior to Dmitry’s military grade fire power. Where they had shot guns and pistols, Nicola and his men had machine guns, rockets, high-powered rifles and grenades.
The fact that there were more of Cane’s men than Nicola had didn’t matter. It was a clear demonstration of the fact that Cane’s local wanna be thugs were outclassed by police and organized crime experience in the field.
Nicola burst through the front doors in full tactical gear, running so fast until the men could not get one good shot out. As soon as his foot hit the threshold, he started to lay bodies down. Diving behind the large sofa in the living room, he popped back up from behind the barrier spraying the room while Cory gave him cover on the other side of the foyer. Every person they saw, they shot without prejudice or hesitation. Large caliber bullets ripped through the palatial home, tearing through drywall, destroying fine furniture and paintings.
When the Cane’s men though that they had cornered Nicola in, he did a quick tactical reload, dropping one magazine on the floor while popping another one in his M4. With one hand, he pulled the trigger; with the other he threw a grenade across the room towards the men, blowing a hole in the wall.
Bodies flew everywhere. Blood splattered and men began screaming in pain ill prepared for the encounter. Cory quickly picked up the slack by throwing two more grenades into the other rooms, blowing out more walls and returning gunfire.
The sudden commotion disoriented the men toward the front of the house and scared the men toward the back of the house. As they tried to escape through the game room door leading out to the pool, they were met by Gabriel and Anatoly who unleashed the fury of automatic weapons and concussion grenades.
Maurice and Boris cleared the other side of the house with little trouble leaving no one alive before Maurice threw down a black satchel by the stove in the kitchen.
“Head out; head out!” he screamed into his earpiece as he and Boris bolted out the side door and ran around the side of the mansion toward the truck.
“Let’s go!” Nicola screamed to Cory.
“Heard it!” Cory said, returning fire again.
All six of the men quickly exited the perimeter of the house, running as fast as they could while still shooting at the clueless men who thought Nicola and his team were retreating. As soon as they arrived back at their trucks, Maurice hit the detonator and a loud explosion brought the once beautiful house to its knees. The bomb rocked the ground beneath Nicola, feeling more like an earthquake than C4.
In seconds, they were back in the truck and headed back out of the burning gate onto the road.
There was no need to stand around and watch the mansion burn, because without a doubt, there was no one left alive.
***
Dmitry stood in front of the pile of perfectly cut, blue diamonds splayed out on the dining room table with his arms crossed and his hand under his chin. In deep thought, he contemplated which ones he actually wanted to keep and which ones he wanted to sell. Bending down, he picked up the cool precious stones in his large hand and studied them.<
br />
“They are worth about $100,000 a piece,” the Israeli dealer said, watching his boss for a decision. “Compliments of your former competitor in Yemen. We took the notable spoils of war and brought them to you. Most of it is being housed at your home in Miami, but these were important enough to make a special trip.” He hoped that Dmitry was impressed with his work and willing to contract him again.
Dmitry turned his lip up and scanned the pile. Who knew thatAl-Shaqqaf was into the precious jewels trade? Maybe if that was all that he was involved in, he might still be alive.
“How many are here? Dmitry asked.
“There were at two hundred and ten,” the man said, standing taller.
Dmitry smacked his lips. “I can’t make up my mind,” he finally said, putting the diamonds back down. “Anya!” he called out.
As soon as his voice rose, the door opened and the maid was there to answer him. “Can I help you, sir?” the short, frumpy Hispanic woman said with a warm smile. She looked up at the tall man with extreme admiration in her eyes.
Dmitry smiled back. He absolutely adored Mary. “Bring me my Anya. I have a job for her,” he said, walking over to the buffet. Fishing through the crystal bowl, he picked out a shiny green apple and took a bite. “I know how to settle this once and for all. Then you can be on your way back to Miami to see how much I can get for the rest of our friend’s belongings.”
The World in Reverse Page 40
