A Come BackChapter 29 Friends
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The look in Renata’s eyes was terrified and pleading, and her cheek was starting to darken with a new bruise. It would probably be a nasty purple in a few days.
I started to move toward Renata more out of instinct than from any belief I would actually get to her. I felt a hand grip tight onto my shoulder, holding me fast.
I was still a little shocked to see her. In the back of my mind I had already resigned myself to her being dead, as I couldn’t make it add up for the Russians to keep her alive, no matter how I did the math. So, seeing her alive sitting on the couch, had thrown me a bit. I was still trying to recover.
I finally stopped and started taking an inventory of the room we were in, letting the trained part of my brain start to put the pieces together and work out some kind of plan.
I noted the door had shut behind us, leaving me with just the babysitter at my left elbow and the two guys across the way, not counting the men on the couch.
They were an odd pair. If I had to put money on it, I would have bet that the clean cut guy was one of the Russians’ law enforcement stooges. He stood out in the room like a sore thumb. The other guy was the poster child for a Russian gangster. With the way everyone in the room looked at him when I walked in, he was also clearly in charge.
“So you are this cowboy little Renata has had so much to say about,” he said in accented, but completely fluent English.
Before responding I looked into his eyes, trying to evaluate the man. The easy, confident way he talked spoke of intelligence and came across as almost friendly. His eyes, however, were straight sociopath.
“I don’t know, I never liked horses much.”
“Ha,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, horses. You are a funny man, Mr. Taylor. May I call you John?”
“Seeing as how I am standing here in handcuffs,” I said looking briefly at my manacled wrists, “you could call me ‘Mary, ‘ and there wouldn’t be much I could do about it.”
One thing I had learned from my time in the desert is that, even being at someone’s mercy; you had to keep a hard front. If you acted like a victim, your captors would treat you like that. Even in moments like this, control was as much psychological as physical.
“Renata has spoken very highly of you, John. Which is surprising. She was always so meek and quiet, never making friends. But you seem to have won her over.”
“What can I say,” I said with a shrug. “The ladies like me.”
“I can see that. She seems pretty certain that you were going to find her and rescue her.”
“One outta two ain’t bad.”
His smile was starting to fade, and I was pretty sure my smartass routine was starting to wear thin.
“You have been a very difficult thorn for me, John. Good men are hard to come by, and you have killed many of my men.”
“Find better men, Sergi,” I said, taking a shot in the dark that this was Yuri’s right hand man.
“You also cost me a lot of money,” he said, ignoring my comment. “We lost a lot of product in that warehouse.”
Him calling the women in the warehouse ‘product’ sent shivers down my spine. This guy was just about as evil as they come.
“You fuck with the bull...” I said.
“I plan on getting some satisfaction for all my losses.”
“Bill me.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just gave me a creepy, knowing kind of smile. He had the mean, heartless look down pat.
“I wanted Renata to see you one last time before I had you killed,” he eventually said. “Yuri is very taken with her and would be displeased if I got rid of her, but she must learn her place. She must learn that she belongs to us. I think you will make an excellent object lesson of what happens to those who cross me.”
There wasn’t much I could say to that, so I remained silent. I did take a small shuffle backwards, bringing me almost parallel with my babysitter.
“Afraid Mr. Taylor?”
He had taken my move as a recoil, which is what I was hoping for.
I shrugged again, “I’ve been a dead man, before.”
“Yes, Stephen mentioned parts of that to me. Sadly, even he couldn’t get your file from the military, so we only had what was in your FBI file. How did you end up in the hands of the Arabs?”
“Milk run gone bad,” I answered, which was true, but if he wasn’t conversant in military terminology it wouldn’t mean much to him.
The fact that they hadn’t seen my DOD file also explained why they had been somewhat lax about my security. In their place, dealing with someone with the training I’d had, I would have been more cautions. Of course, I also wouldn’t have been a slaving ass-hat, so I guess I can’t try and work out their thought process too much.
“Well, this has been enlightening, but I believe...” he started to say, making a hand signal to one of the guards, before I interrupted him.
“What are your plans with Robles,” I asked, looking over at Barrett.
Barrett looked at Sergi, only answering after he got a nod.
“I always liked Robles, but he took one too many chances, and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. He knows too much now.”
I turned to the left, slightly, while letting my head droop. I was trying to put on a show of regret and resignation, to hide my true intention. My turn put me at the side of the guy who had been guarding me.
He had his arms crossed over his chest, putting on that tough ‘bouncer look’ so many of this type liked to represent. It was also insanely stupid.
In his position, his hands were pushed into the crooks if his elbows, making it impossible for him to react to anything quickly. On top of that, he still had his gun pushed into the waistband of his pants, well away from his hands and with the butt pointing out slightly away from his gut, free of obstruction. Even more amazing was that the safety was off and, if I had to put money on it, I would bet this guy had a round in the chamber.
Not even considering the safety aspect of guarding someone with your gun unsecured, I don’t know that I would ever want a weapon cocked and locked right next to my junk.
But it worked in my favor.
My hands were still manacled together, but being in front of me it left all sorts of options. I moved in a sudden burst, hoping to catch everyone off guard.
I lunged forward, and gripped his gun with both hands. Pulling the butt away from his gut, and cocking the hammer while angling the barrel in, I pulled the trigger. This elicited a blood curdling scream from the guard, as the bullet ripped through his crotch.
Even as the slide of the gun was racking back in place, I pulled it up and out, freeing the gun from his waistband. As it came free, I noticed the barrel was covered in red spots, a souvenir from its previous owner.
Once the gun was free, I twisted around like a dancer spinning around their partner, imposing his now dropping body between me and the others in the room.
The two guards across the room had already started their motion, reaching for their weapons. Unfortunately for them, they’d had the same crossed arms pose as the guy who had been guarding me. Their guns were also tucked into their waist band while their arms were folded across their chests. This killed any hope of them beating me to the draw, and I killed them, too. I put a round through the guard on the left first, hitting him in the upper chest, and then continued tracking to his partner, putting a bullet nearly dead center.
On the couch Renata and Barrett assumed nearly identical poses, both wide eyed and completely rigid. It was clear in that moment Barrett was a bureaucrat, plain and simple. I didn’t know if he was armed or not, but he was making no move, either aggressively against me or defensively.
Sergi was another story. I had counted him out, based on his being on the couch in a seated position. But, in the time it had taken me to dispatch the three guards, he had propelled himself off the couch and was already pulling a weapon from behind his back.
My gun was still pointing to his right where the guys on the wall had been, and there wasn’t a chance for me to readjust my aim before he got his gun up enough to at least get off a shot.
I couldn’t take that chance. So, considering how close I was still to the couch, I took the only other option open to me. I jumped forward, pushing myself off the writhing form of the injured man at my feet.
By the time Sergi’s weapon was all the way up, I was inside his arms, with the barrel of his gun pointing over my left shoulder. I managed to grip his shirt with one hand. Pressing my weapon flat against his chest which I gripped hard in the other hand, I let my momentum and weight throw the two of us over the back of the couch.
My jump had hit him on an upward trajectory, and I rode the surprised Russian over the back of the couch. As we got contacted the floor, I pushed off with my hands, doing a kind of sloppy sideways roll. It didn’t look pretty, but it did get me up on my knees, pointing towards Sergi with my gun up. When we had landed, all of my weight had gone into my palms pressing on his chest, and he’d had the wind knocked out of him.
That, coupled with his unfortunate position of lying on his back, left Sergi completely exposed. He was only just now starting to lift his gun off the floor.
I’m sure most would have tried to disarm or warn Sergi, getting him to surrender. Almost certainly that is what the FBI would have wanted.
I, however, was not taking any chances. When you see a snake in your home, you cut off its head. You don’t try to make it your pet!
I was damn near point blank range when I pulled the trigger, creating a red hole in the center of Sergi’s head. His face locked in a mixture of rage and surprise as the light behind his eyes flickered out.
I froze for a moment. Since my first movement less than fifteen violent seconds had elapsed, but the brain still needs time to adjust to situations like this.
Movement in my periphery broke my reverie. I looked to see Barrett had finally started to move, with a hand making its way towards his coat.
“Move another inch, and you join Sergi,” I told him, pointing my weapon at his head.
Staying true to the coward he was, Barrett froze.
“Renata,” I said, never adjusting my aim, “Go to the guy on the floor and check his pockets for a handcuff key.”
She hopped into motion. The guy was still alive and my best guess was he would survive this whole encounter. Although I was certain he would probably always wish he hadn’t, considering the junkless life that lay in his future.
Renata found the key and circled around the couch, holding the key out to me.
“Go ahead and undo the cuffs, but don’t get in front of my gun. Just come in from the side.”
She silently worked, unlocking the cuffs and pulling them off my wrists. The whole time she worked, her eyes darted over my shoulder to the two bodies lying behind me. Considering everything she had been through, I was surprised this kind of violence was affecting her, especially considering who these guys were to her.
Finally done, she stepped back, holding the cuffs. It felt nice to have my hands free. All the activity with my hands bound had rubbed my wrists raw, and I could already feel the soreness and pain coming from them.
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