Devil’s in the Details (12 page)

I chuckled softly before whispering "Thank you." I hit the ear bud again, muting Dani out unless I needed her. It was against protocol, but it was hard for me to focus if I heard anything in the background that could distract me. It had gotten me hurt on the first few jobs after I started working for Voltaire. Hearing Dani's breathing, or her soft clicks was too much, and eventually we both agreed that muting was the best option for both of us.

I stared at my blurred reflection in the steel of the elevator doors as I put on the black leather gloves. I then reached into the back pack, wrapping my hands around the silenced PK380 and stepped out of the elevator.

Walking directly towards the first big Russian standing against the wall across from the elevator reading a newspaper, I tried to smile at him like I imagined a normal person would. He didn't even give me a second look before uttering in a thick Russian accent, "You have wrong floor."

My smiled fell to a smirk as I kept walking towards him, fully removing the handgun from the backpack, "I don't think I do." I fired two shots in his chest and one between his eyes before he had a chance to look at me. The large man slid down the wall to land on his ass, the paper in his hands propped up as if he was still reading it. It would have looked quite normal if it wasn't for the large red smear of his blood on the wall behind him and the gaping hole in his forehead.

I moved past him, swinging the back pack around my left shoulder and moved down the hall, the smell of blood already filling the air and my nose, making the little bit of nerves I had felt in the elevator disappear completely. I fell into the perfect zone I always did when I started working and I made a mental note to research why the smell of blood had such a calming effect on me at the strangest times. Maybe I could talk to my therapist about it at my yearly psyche exam for the Naval Academy.

Moving silently down the hall, I stopped right behind the second guard. He was also leaning against the wall outside of the shiny black double doors. He was engrossed in his cell phone, watching motorcycle racing videos and laughing like a drunken donkey.

He dropped to the floor on his stomach with one shot to the back of his head right at the base of his skull. Blood and tissue splattering on the leaves of the poor fern plant that sat directly across from him.

I leaned over the body to look at the silver magnetic door lock. A bright red light staring right at me above the card slot. I tucked the PK380 back into the backpack and waited for Dani to give me the green light. Digging around in the backpack I wrapped my right hand around three of the throwing knives that lined the interior. When the light on the lock blinked green, I pushed the door open, startling the third guard carrying a stack of clean white towels.

He fell to his knees, the white towels tumbling to the floor around him as he clutched at the black steel knife lodged in the middle of his throat. His hands scrambling to stanch the blood pouring out as he gurgled from the red fluid sliding down his windpipe, quickly seizing up his lungs.

I didn't give him a second look as I stepped over him, kicking his hand free from my ankle as he feebly tried to stop me. His voice coming out in choked wet garbles, trying to yell for help.

Walking through the large, gaudy black and white marbled penthouse I spun another knife around my index finger, looking for the fourth and fifth guard. I craned my neck when I could hear loud techno music playing, mixed with a few angry shouts coming from a man off to my direct right. Sergei had to be in that room. I raised an eyebrow in amusement, this was easier than I expected.

I swung the backpack on to my shoulders after dropping another knife into my right hand, and proceeded to creep around a corner, quickly coming face to face with wide eyes of the fourth guard. He scrambled, reaching for the gun holstered on his hip, but failed.

I had to step to the side as his blood spurt out of his jugular at an unusually high angle. I kicked him onto his back, pushing the knife to the hilt into the side of his neck to finish the job quickly as I pulled back the sleeve of my jacket to look at my watch. Glancing at the digital display, I had less than twenty minutes to meet Sergei and find Katrina. I had to hurry this up.

I opted to go right to the room with the techno music instead of searching for the last guard, knowing Sergei's screams would draw out the final guard and I could finish them both off at once.

I took three steps towards the white wooden double doors when I felt two tree trunk sized arms wrap around my waist and lift me up, followed by cursing in Russian.

I tugged at the arms, but found them to be too thick and strong for me to wiggle free from. I moved quickly, slamming my left hand holding the throwing knife into the thick forearm trying to squeeze the life out of me.

I hit the floor as a loud scream filled the room. Rolling on my back I saw the fifth guard, grabbing at the knife in his arm, trying to pull it out, but the blood made everything slippery. I smirked as I watched him fall to his knees, desperately trying to yank the knife out before he looked up at me.

A quick look of confusion crossed his face when he saw that I was a woman, the confusion rapidly turned to anger. I raised an eyebrow watching him scramble for the gun on his hip. I shook my head, smirking wider and jumped to my feet to lunge at him. Throwing a hard angle kick to the edge of his jaw and hearing the loud snap of success as I landed on my knees. He crumbled to the ground dead on his gun side. I reached out, pushing him off his side, shrugging when I saw he had at least gotten the gun halfway out of his holster before I snapped his neck.

I patted his cheek, looking in his lifeless eyes. "You almost got me."

Standing up, I removed the backpack. Tucking the PK380 in my back waistband, I grabbed the two push daggers sitting in the bottom. Tossing the empty backpack on the floor, I took a deep breath and headed towards the white double doors holding back the blaring techno music.

Kicking the double doors open I found Sergei sitting on a large circular bed wearing silk boxers and a black silk robe. He sat facing me, snorting white, mountain sized piles of cocaine on a piece of broken mirror he held in his hand. The techno music was at an ear piercing level, making it clear that Sergei had been oblivious to everything that had gone on around him and that I was now standing in the room with him. I stared at the piece of shit for a second before I started walking towards him, hollering, "Hello Sergei."

His head shot up when he heard my voice. He threw the mirror to the floor, throwing up clouds of cocaine, "Who the fuck are you?" He looked around for his guards, shouting in a thick broken accent. "Nikolai! Vladimir! Get in here!"

I chuckled, "They won't be coming anytime soon, Sergei." I continued to walk towards him with my hands at my side, the dagger hilts firmly in my palms and ready to strike like lightning.

Sergei's eyes dropped to the blood dripping from my gloves. Sergei was a foolish junkie, but he knew why I was there and what I had just done to his guards. He growled at me as he turned to look at the large silver handgun on the brass and granite table just out of reach to his left, "I fucking kill you."

I shrugged, "You can try." I half smiled at him, moving closer.

Sergei did try and went to get up to go for his gun. I sighed hard and ran the few steps to him. Moving faster than he expected, I drove the two push daggers deep into the crease of his thighs, immediately severing the deep femoral artery. He screamed out in pain and went to reach down to pull them out of his legs.

I shook my head, snatching both of his wrists before his fingers had a chance to graze the hilts, "Oh no, no, Sergei. You don't want to do that, unless you want to bleed out." I nodded to the daggers in his thighs, sticking out and twitching with him, "You see the blades are actually preventing you from bleeding out. You move one of these a millimeter and you will be dead in three seconds as your heart pumps all of your blood out of the sliced femoral arteries."

Sergei tried to rip his wrists from my hands, I shook my head again, twisting them both back until I felt them snap. I waited for his screams to lessen before I dropped his maimed hands to crouch down in front of him. I pulled back the sleeve of my jacket, looking again at my watch, "I have ten minutes, Sergei, so let's make this quick. Where is Katrina? You tell me where she is and I might let you live."

Sergei turned his head away from me, trying to figure out a way to still get to the gun from the table. I sighed harder, standing up and walked to the table to pick up the gun. After stuffing it next to the PK380, I returned to kneel in front of him, slapping him hard across the face, "Stop wasting my time. Katrina, where is she?"

Sergei looked dead in my eyes with big dilated black pinholes for pupils, trying hard to see through the dark lenses of my sunglasses. "Whoever sent you is coward. Send woman to do a man's job."

I clenched my jaw, reaching for the daggers to pull them out, "I don't like it when my time is wasted. Say goodnight Sergei." I linked my finger around the hilt of both daggers and began to pull them out slowly.

"No, wait, wait! I give you money, drugs, men, women, whatever you want." Sergei was frantically pleading with me.

I shook my head, pulling the dagger out slowly. I hated when they begged. "I told you what I want."

When he felt the first tingle of blood escaping his femoral, Sergei shouted, "Fine! She is in other room. Sleeping. I didn't hurt her!"

I nodded once, shoving the dagger back in place before I stood up and walked towards the side room off of the main bedroom. Pushing the white door open slowly, I saw a half-naked girl wearing only a tiny pair of underwear, curled up in the middle of the bed. I didn't have to look twice to know it was Katrina. Her strawberry red hair was a tangled mess. Her lipstick was smeared with the rest of her heavy makeup, making her look like a morbid clown. The girl was visibly high on something by the way her dilated pupils looked straight through me.

I rushed to the bed, shaking her awake enough to get her to stand up and walk with me towards the front foyer. I didn't care she could see my face, she was far too high on cocaine and god knows what else to ever remember this night. It bothered me deeply that Katrina didn't try to fight me or say anything. Instantly telling me that her abuse had been violent, and lengthy at the hands of Sergei. Driving her into a dark hole of simply surviving no matter what the cost.

I looked at her as I wrapped her in a blanket to cover her, pushing her away from the screaming and yelling Sergei, "Wait for me by the front door, Katrina, I’m taking you home to your father."

She nodded numbly looking in my eyes with a strange confusion, "Poppa here?" Katrina tried to focus her drug induced vision but gave up, nodding as I whispered again for her to go wait for me in the foyer. I watched her walk out, stepping over the dead guards as if they were children's toys strewn around the floor. The anger rose quickly in me and came from nowhere with immense force. Something that rarely happened on jobs, but there was so much about this one that ate at me.

When Katrina was out of the room, I turned back to Sergei. He tried to smirk at me with confidence as he spoke, "I will find you and I will kill you, woman."

I looked up at the ceiling, sucking in a deep breath before I took the two steps to stand in front of the man again. I lifted my sunglasses up so he could look in my uncovered eyes. I wanted him to watch me as I reached down, wrapped my hands around the two daggers, intent on removing them, and watch the man bleed out, but my rage wouldn't allow me to let Sergei have the easy way out.

I began to push down hard on to the daggers with my palms, pushing them deeper into Sergei's groin. Smiling with satisfaction as I felt them break through the flesh on the back of his legs. His screams of pain and rage did nothing but egg me on. I began to slowly twist the daggers, feeling them rip through tendons, ligament, and muscle until I felt, and heard, the blades scrape against his femurs.

I turned away from Sergei spewing and spitting curses in my face, and yanked up hard on the daggers. Ripping them free from his flesh, I held his eyes intently. I wanted him to see in my eyes that I was killing him, with no other reason than I wanted him to die, and die painfully.

I continued to stare at Sergei as his screams turned from angry to panicked, looking down at the blood pouring out of his thighs. Unable to do a damn thing as he watched his life fade away with every beat of his heart.

I took three steps back, dropping the bloody daggers on to the floor in front of him. I turned away from him and walked away, closing the white double doors behind me to drown out the sounds of a dying man's last breaths and words.

I felt nothing. My heart rate didn't increase and I barely broke a sweat.

I calmly walked back to Katrina sitting on the edge of a white leather chair by the front doors. I said nothing as I lifted her up and walked her out of the apartment, and into the elevator. In less than two minutes, I handed her off to the cleaning crew waiting for me in the side alley, also handing off the PK380 and Sergei's weapon to be disposed of.

The cleaning crew drove off as I walked away, stripping off the blood soaked gloves and tucking them deep in my pockets. I pulled up my hood and turned right at the end of the alley. Calmly jogging back down the street to the company apartment, reaching up when I was a block away from the apartment to press on the ear bud, "Dani, it's done. Cleaning crew has the girl."