Natasha came slowly awake with a dull headache. She felt like her brain was rolling inside her skull. She squinted at the blurred figure of a man before her, against the light. Then, the man moved away, and the light fell directly into her eyes. She shut her eyes again and drifted to the steady throb inside her head.
She heard a voice say, “She’s awake, boss.” The voice seemed to come from far away, but she guessed it was the man who had stood before her.The light burned through her eyelids, and she tried to shift away from it. When she found she couldn’t move, she raised her head and looked. The sudden movement exploded something behind her eyes, and she had to stay still again. Then, after a while, the throb went away, and she tried again.She found she was sitting in a wooden chair, her hands tied to the arms of the chair, her legs tied to its legs. A desk and another chair faced her. The wall of the room; which faced her, was a wide; ceiliIt was yet another humdrum cold winter morning in CSKA Moscow, but not to Natasha Orlova. Her hands, tucked in the pockets of her black leather hoodie, shivered, her teeth rattled, and her stride down the narrow alley; broke into a trot. Her shoulders were hunched against the prevailing chilling wind - she felt was against her - as she advanced; hoping that the heat generated by her body from her little exercise of trotting would fortify her against the vicious attack of the cold.She cursed herself for listening to the cabman who had dropped her at the mouth of the alley.“Miss, you seem to be in a hurry.” He had said. “This is the shortest cut. Through this alley, then to your right and there,” he pointed, “you have the hospital.”She dropped and paid him. She could still remember his broad, slick smile, as he pocketed the bill, made a U-turn, and drove away with the stream of traffic, going into the city.
Few minutes past eighteen o'clock, a taxi pulled up at NW 7th St. Overtown. It was a neighborhood, considered the black eye of the Miami area.Out came a tall, dark man. His face was thin, his eyes dark and deep-set. His mouth was hard, and his jaw looked aggressive. A few scattered white hairs on his head made it apparent he was a man past forty.He paid the driver, waited for him to drive away, then looked up and down the street. The environment reeked of poverty and abandonment. Young men in overcoats, played cards next to a windowless convenience store, grandmas sat on their broken-down verandas, and Miami’s downtown skyscrapers rose in the distance. Nothing to raise his suspicions.He took out his phone and dialed a number.“I'm here,” he said, ended the call, and dropped the phone back into his pocket.He waited.Out of the shadow of the ramshackle convenience store, among the men playing cards, a thin man came out and called out
It wasn't until ten minutes past eight that another movement of the gate brought his mind instantly to the present. The gate rolled open. He sat up. A Lincoln Navigator showed its head. His lips drew off his teeth in a crooked smile. He stubbed the smoldering cigarette in an ashtray in the car and turned on the ignition of the Toyota. As the Lincoln turned right and edged into the flow of the traffic, he drove the Toyota, in his bid to follow the Lincoln. He made sure two cars separated him from the Lincoln.The night traffic was tight and slow. With the pace used by cars along the broad street, the dark man felt even if the driver of the Lincoln spotted him, he'd think of him as part of the traffic.The car in front of him was a low Aston Martin sports car. Ahead of it was another low car, and he got an unobstructed view of the rear of the Lincoln. He admired the balance, the ease at which the big car edged its way through the tight downtown Miami traffic. But what good w
He took from his pocket a pair of thin silk gloves, and when he wore them, they became like a second skin on his hands, then waited some thirty minutes before opening the glove compartment. He took out the paper bag, and taking the package from the bag, he screwed the silencer slowly to the gun. His mind calculated.Done screwing the silencer to the gun, he slid the gun into the pocket of his overcoat, opened the car door, and stepped out into the street. Gently, he swung the door shut, pushed it until he heard, ‘click.’He looked up and down the moonlit street. A few taxis still bowled rapidly along the road, a few dawdlers loitered in the street beyond. It was a fine chilly night, and downtown Miami was still reluctant to go to sleep.Moving quickly with stealth, he crossed the street, stepped into a dark shop doorway, and looked around. As he saw no one looking in his direction, he slunk along in the shadows, invisible in his black outfit. He reached th
The circuit blow brought Jamie Rico instantly awake. He hadn't seen the flash, as he had his back turned to the window and his curtains drawn. So, he thought it was a gunshot. He laid still on the bed, his ears straining. Then, as he relaxed, his quick suspicious ears picked out the faint noise of a door click. He stiffened.His hand drew out a drawer by his bedside and his fingers closed over the steel butt of a .38mm.He raised his head from the pillow and listened. The noise was repeated. It was a soft sound, like someone taking care not to be heard, was slowly turning the handle of a door.Silently, he took out the gun from the drawer, raised himself, and with his left hand, he groped for the light switch, found it, and turned it on. There was no response from the light bulbs as if the switch and bulbs had recently had a discord.Darkness still hovered around the room, but he wasn't scared. He had a gun. He pulled back the safety catch of the gun and gently d
Suddenly, Rico’s feet seemed to stagger. A heavy thud vibrated the floor where he laid as Rico's massive frame hit the floor. His head dropped to the floor a few inches from the closet door. The noise came as sharp and loud as it could be to the dark man, who had his ear to the ground. He got up, swung the door open, and crossed over the body into the room. He moved to the wet bar, drained the remaining whiskey in the bottle, and rinsed the tumbler.Then, sliding his gun into his pocket, he hoisted the massively built body over his shoulder. He moved with difficulty across the room and dropped the body on the bed. He arranged the body, lifted its head, and pulled the pillow under it. His eyes caught the wedding ring on Rico's finger, and he grunted.He moved to the wet bar, picked up Rico's gun. He checked how many slugs were in it.Three.He crossed to the bedside drawers. As he drew the top drawer open, he heard a soft creak and smiled his crooked smile.
As Pascal edged to where the Lincoln was parked with the dark man following behind, his mind worked swiftly. Any moment from now, he felt the man behind might slip up. He might come too close before they got to the Lincoln. Then that would be his chance, he thought.As they reached the Lincoln, the signaling lights of the Lincoln flashed. Pascal stopped abruptly, but the gun nudged him forward.“Get in the driver’s side.”With fallen shoulders, he got the car door open and got in. His gamble hadn’t come off. The thought that he might be dealing with a man as efficiently professional as himself brought cold sweat to his forehead.The dark man got in the back and settled himself directly behind Pascal.“Get us to the agency,” he said and relaxed back into the luxury of the car.Ten minutes of steady driving with the speedometer needle flickering over forty and fifty brought them to Rico Truck Agency.Pascal sounded
Seated in the first-class cabin of a Boeing 747 flight; from New York to Florida, Miami. Natasha Orlova stared blankly through the window at the blue sky and white clouds.Her mind was unsettled. She turned her attention again to the white envelope, which she held in her hand. The words, drawn by the black ink, “To Natasha Orlova.” stared unfeelingly back at her.She couldn't help but take out the paper, unfold it, and read through its content yet again.The first sentence struck a knife into her heart. As she read further, each word pushed the knife deeper, each sentence twisted the blade in her heart.“Your father might still be alive. Ever since your conception, I promised myself I wouldn't let him know of you. He was bad. I wanted the best for you. But you struck a knife in my heart, child, as you gre
Natasha came slowly awake with a dull headache. She felt like her brain was rolling inside her skull. She squinted at the blurred figure of a man before her, against the light. Then, the man moved away, and the light fell directly into her eyes. She shut her eyes again and drifted to the steady throb inside her head.She heard a voice say, “She’s awake, boss.” The voice seemed to come from far away, but she guessed it was the man who had stood before her.The light burned through her eyelids, and she tried to shift away from it. When she found she couldn’t move, she raised her head and looked. The sudden movement exploded something behind her eyes, and she had to stay still again. Then, after a while, the throb went away, and she tried again.She found she was sitting in a wooden chair, her hands tied to the arms of the chair, her legs tied to its legs. A desk and another chair faced her. The wall of the room; which faced her, was a wide; ceili
Alessa had seen Natasha come out of the condominium, hail down a taxi, and got in. And as the taxi had driven away, she had gotten a glimpse of its number. She could still remember the number. She dialed a number on her phone.A man’s voice came through.“Hello?”“Nick, help me trace a taxi, numbered; 285.”…Alec Barley had lived alone now for over five years, and from time to time, he got himself a woman, ‘to take care of his blood pressure,’ as he usually quoted it to himself.Tonight, he was all alone. He picked up the boiling kettle and made himself tea.He carried the tea into the living room and sat down limply in the big armchair. The springs creaked under his weight, but tonight, he didn’t care about the gradual wearing out of his furniture. With Natasha’s ten thousand dollars, and with the twenty thousand Gorevoy had promised him, he knew he could give his apartment a fresh look
A Toyota Prado drove into the warehouse and pulled up behind the cab. Out of it spilled two black powerfully built men dressed in black suits. The driver held a small black briefcase. He came over to Gorevoy and handed him the briefcase.The other man went over to the rear door and opened it. Natasha’s shrill scream filled the warehouse.He raised his gun to her.“Hold it,” he said in a voice that was loaded with menace. And just like a cheap magic trick, a dead silence fell on the warehouse. “Get out.”Natasha did as she was told. He nudged her forward, and toward the Prado, and as she moved forward. With speed, akin to that of a Black Mamba about to strike, he closed in on her and struck a needle into her arm. Almost immediately, she went limp. He picked her up and bundled her into the back seat of the Prado.The two men got into the car. Gorevoy watched them drive off, then he shrugged and got into the cab.Rico edged th
Rico stared at the phone, bewildered, and just as he was about to close the phone, a message from Rose dropped in. He viewed the message, and an obscene, crude, sexually brash picture filled his screen.It said a lot about him that his face remained expressionless. He felt an increased rate of blood flow to his extremities. The phone became too heavy for him to hold, but he held on to it.Natasha looked into his eyes. The light in them made her shift away from him.“What’s it, Jamie?” She asked carefully.He turned the screen of the phone to her.“What is this?” His voice roared.Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth as her breath came in quick gasps. The look on Rico’s face frightened her. She had never seen him look like this before. Immediately, she stood up and edge back into a corner of the room.“I can explain, Jamie. It not what you think.”Rico made after her, but stopped in his tracks.
Rose took the envelope, lifted the flap, and drew out six photographic prints. A single glance stopped her heartbeat for a split second, her heart raced, and she felt icy sweat break out on her face. She shuffled through the prints, then returned them to the envelope, and put the envelope down on the table. Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t believe Pascal had betrayed her.Gorevoy regarded her. “Four days ago, I gave the originals to Rico; these are photocopies. The next day, I read in the papers that Pascal was dead. Rico knew I was the only one who had evidence; linking him to Pascal’s death, so he dropped two tails on me. That was when I knew my life wasn’t safe anymore, and I had to talk to you. This disguise was essential to shake off the tail. If Rico gets the idea that I’ve talked, I’m as good as dead. If anything happens to me, you know who’s responsible. You are a press woman. You know what to do with these photog
Gorevoy dropped the phone in his pocket. His mouth twisted into a crooked grin. So Rico was onto him. Well, even if he would not get any money out of this, he would get his revenge, and that was a promise he had made to himself.He stripped off his clothes. It was essential to his plan that he wouldn’t be followed to where he had to go to now. He opened the closet and took out the woman’s dress he had bought for an occasion like this. He slipped into it, wore a brown topcoat, and slid his feet into a Mary Jones shoe. Making himself up, he wore a black wig and dark shades, took a handbag, folded his clothes, and put in the bag. He picked up a brown envelope from the table, dropped it in the bag, and left the room.Outside the condo, he sneaked a surreptitious glance at Alessa. She paid him no attention. He hailed down a taxi and got in.The taxi pulled up in front of Rose’s apartment building. He got out, paid the cabman, and proceeded to the bu
There was a scuffling noise. The silence of the room was split by Cain’s scream, then a thud that seemed to shake the entire apartment.Immediately, Alessa stood up. She took a mass of foam from her pocket, crossed to the bath, soaked it with water, crossed to where Cain was sprawled on the floor, still dazed from the shock of the fall. She dropped on him, her knees pinning his hands to the ground. And as the wet foam came above his face, Cain suddenly realized what was about to happen to him. He gave a sharp squeal of terror, and he made a frantic effort to save himself, but it was too late.Alessa dropped the foam on his face and applied pressure. Water flowed down the sides of his face. His legs kicked helplessly.Keeping the pressure steady, Alessa watched the desperate heaving of his body and the movement of his fingers scrabbling at the tiles.Cain suddenly realized he had no chance of surviving this. Alessa’s weight on him felt like a h
About an hour’s drive from Miami, Rico’s Lincoln, turned from the main road into a narrow dirt road, just wide enough for one car. Either side of the road was screened by tall trees and shrubs.Seated in the driver’s seat was Rico. Beside him was Rose. Since their drive from Miami, she hadn’t said a word, and with the way she had her hands between her knees, he could tell she was nervous. Well, he couldn’t be blamed. Before the drive, he had tried to talk her out of this foolishness, but her heart had remained as hard as a diamond.Finally, down the dirt road, the powerful headlights of the Lincoln picked up the rear of a car.“I think there is a car on the way,” Rose said sharply.Rico noticed that the hardness he had gotten used to was
After ten minutes of driving, Cain’s taxi turned into the street, which housed the high-rise; where he had his apartment, and as Alessa’s driver was about to follow suit, she leaned forward and said, “I’ve changed my mind. Drive me to Sam’s bar.”The driver nodded.Ten minutes later, the driver slowed down and pulled up outside Sam’s bar.“Here we are, miss.”Alessa paid him, got out of the cab, and entered the bar. Moving through the crowded, smoke-hazed air, she came to rest at the bar where Sam; an obese man, was serving drinks.He looked up from the drink he was mixing, noticed her, then smiled.“I’m expecting a friend, Sam,” Alessa said.“Room three and five, are available,” Sam returned.“I’ll take room five.”Sam took out a key from the key rack and handed it to Alessa.“You care for a drink?”Alessa shook her