The Hitman: Dirty Rotters (18 page)

I raced to the door. I couldn’t let
the Russian make a phone call to Andrik. One call would end
everything in a hurry. I pressed against the bullet-riddled door
and pressed it open, just far enough to peek out. I saw the
Escalade. No shooter in sight.

I paused. My heart was in my throat. I
figured that if he had reloaded then he would have kept shooting.
So then I figured he must have run out. Without the keys to the
Escalade, maybe he ran off on foot. I could see that. A wiser
decision than sticking around. There were plenty of abandoned
buildings and shops to hide in and make the call. Chances were that
we would never find him.

I stepped out. I had the gun out ahead
of me, ready to fire, aiming in all directions, eyes scanning for
any trace of movements. There was nothing to be seen though. Save
for the black Escalade.

I walked right for it. Weapon aimed
right at it, in case a head popped in the window or a door flew
open and gun fire erupted. I was ready. My trigger finger was
itchy. I would have shot a mosquito if one swept past
me.

I made it to the Escalade without
incident. I opened the front passenger door, weapon drawn. But it
was empty. And it was clean too. Shiny clean. The type of clean
that makes you wonder if anyone had ever been in it. I stepped
around to the back door, opened it, and got the same results.
Nothing.

I figured then that the short Russian
had fled. My only hope then was that he didn’t carry a cellular
telephone like the rest of the planet did.

I exhaled in defeat and turned
around.

I thought about the human brain then.
It is just amazing how fast it can react, calculate, and instruct.
It can take a second and stretch it out to feel like three or
four.

But all I had was about a tenth of a
second. It was all I needed though.

As I turned away from the
shiny black leather seats of the Escalade, I saw the short Russian
appear, swinging a two-by-four at my head like a woodsman sending
his axe down to split a chunk of oak. I saw a nail in the wood, as
well as the letters
GR
stamped against the side. Probably from the mill that
processed it. I saw the angry eyes of the Russian. Further back
from him I saw the building door fly open and Frank charging
out.

Then I saw stars.

Then a swirling blackness was
devouring my sight.

My eyes closed against a sharp,
stinging sensation.

All in a fraction of a
second.

I woke up with a throbbing headache.
The first thing I thought about was the cop with his head stuck in
the crushing device. I had nothing to complain about. I would live.
I had a bump that would heal in a week, no major damage.

I was lying on the ground exactly
where I fell. I was staring up at the grey-clouded sky. The air had
a chill to it. I’m guessing the temperature was dipping below the
fifty degree mark that it was during lunch. I did a test on all my
limbs to see if everything was working. I was fine.

I sat upright and heard the screaming
right away. Loud and painful, bellowing out of the warehouse. Frank
and the other cop, I thought. The Russian must have somehow taken
them hostage again.

I stood to my feet quickly. Well, I
did the best I could.

I had no gun. What I did see lying
there beside me was the two-by-four. I bent and picked it up and
regretted it immediately. My head banged harder, like someone was
driving a railroad spike into it. I grabbed the wood plank and
stood slowly. I walked to the warehouse door in the slight rush I
could muster. The pain in my head crippled me from running an
all-out sprint, or even a dash, or even a trot. I couldn’t even
mall-walk. But I made it to the door. I opened it. The screaming
was loud inside.

I stepped in expecting to see a slight
variation of what I had walked into earlier. Instead, I saw Frank.
He punched me in the gut.

I gasped for air and doubled over,
wheezing and letting the two-by-four slip free to clank against the
cement floor. I stood gently upright, fighting off the waves of
pain in my head, and looked Frank in the eyes. He looked pissed
off.

“
Returning the favor,” he
said.

“
I had to earn some trust
from them. I thought you’d understand.” I said, gasping in between
words. “I was saving your life.”

“
We wouldn’t even be in
this mess if it wasn’t for you.” Frank said, then walked forward,
nearly pushing me out the door.

So we went outside.

“
What do you mean? I had
nothing to do with you guys getting-”

“
Sally asked me to do some
snooping around. She didn’t come right out and say it, but I know
it was for you.”

More screaming from inside.

I motioned to the warehouse. “What’s
going on in there?”

Frank shrugged. His voice was a deep
growl. “How would I know? I’m out here.”

“
You were just in
there.”

No response.

“
Why the
attitude?”

Frank stared me down hard. He was
protecting his partner in there. The one crushing the Russian’s
head in like a spatula bleeding out a hamburger. Frank didn’t like
me. I could see it in his eyes.

“
I don’t like you,” he told
me. “Ever since you showed up things have been going
bad.”

I said nothing. I knew he was talking
about whatever personal life he had with Sally Rhode. Maybe they
were dating. Maybe lovers. Maybe more. Sally was a friend of mine
only. He had no reason to be jealous of me.

The screaming stopped. A vast silence
enveloped us.

Frank and I turned to the building
behind him. A moment later the door opened and the other cop walked
out. He didn’t look happy. Considering that his head was nearly
flattened, I guess he looked just fine.

Frank gave him a questioning look. The
other simply shook his head. I heard Frank groan. I guessed that
they had attempted to get some answers out of the short Russian. I
guessed that he knew he was dead either way so he didn’t
talk.

He walked right up to me and shook my
hand. He had a hard look about him. I imagined he had quite a
headache too. “You’re Sally’s friend?”

“
Michael Lynch.”

“
I’m Sally’s brother.
Belsay Rhode.”

I nodded. I didn’t know Sally had a
brother. There was an awkward silence then as they both just stared
at me like I was supposed to say something. So I did.

“
What was Sally looking
for?”

“
Sally asked me to do her a
favor. She came in this morning with a handwritten note and wanted
prints off it. Said it was real important. She looked scared. Sally
never looks scared. So I asked her about it. She told me the note
was stuck to your car, in her driveway.”

I nodded. Frank didn’t care to think
about my car being in Sally’s driveway. The look he gave me made it
quite obvious. I said nothing. He continued.

“
So I did what I could. I
got the prints. I gave her the information. But then someone
started asking questions. The Russian cops don’t like to be left
out of things like this, and this was something I was leaving them
out of for sure. But one of them saw the name of the print. Word
spread like wildfire. Next thing you know, all hell is breaking
loose. Me and Belsay here were rushed out on some phony call and
picked up by those maniac Russians.” Frank motioned his hand
towards the warehouse. “They wanted to know why we were looking for
this guy. They wanted to know who wanted the
information.”

“
But we live by a code,”
Belsay said, brimming with pride. “We told them
nothing.”

“
Who wrote the note?” I
asked Frank.

“
I never saw. The file was
printed and I put it in an envelope and sent it to Sally. If she
wanted me to know, then I would have known.” Frank paused to
reflect then added, “They were going to have to kill
me.”

The note. I had forgotten all about
it.

Noon or else!

“
You need to get Belsay to
a hospital and get his head examined.”

“
While you do what?” Frank
said.

“
I need to get back to
Sally and see what information she has.” I turned for the Escalade
then stopped. “We need keys.”

The three of us turned as one to the
warehouse. We began our search through the Russians’ pockets
looking for the set of car keys. Frank found them on the leader, of
course. Frank drove, I sat shotgun, and Belsay laid in the back.
Frank didn’t trust the Russian cops on the force enough to go back
to work right away and press charges against Andrik. I advised him
not to. I talked him into waiting through the weekend before coming
out and making statements. By then I would have things wrapped up.
Neither he nor Belsay had a family back home waiting, which made
things a lot easier. Despite their desires to seek revenge on
Andrik, the two weary cops agreed that lying low was their best
move. For now, anyway.

Frank took me to the recycling
business to pick up my car, then they were heading out of town to
ditch the Escalade, to rent a car, then to a hospital nowhere near
the Red Square. I advised them to stay low for a day or
two.

“
Just be gone when I come
back,” Frank said.

Chapter 14

Sally went frantic.

I walked in the door and explained
everything. She handed me the file on the guy who wrote the note
she found on my car. She was out of her comfort zone completely. It
was almost as if worry was new to her and she didn’t fully
understand what she was feeling.

“
I can’t believe Belsay
almost died.” She paced through the kitchen. “This is all my
fault.”

“
Frank doesn’t think so.” I
said dryly. I sat at the dining table and read through the file of
a man named Jeff Dimeglio. It was three pages of every sort of
crime I could have thought of. “Why isn’t this guy serving life in
prison?”

“
Connections, I take it.”
Sally made her way to stand behind me. She looked pale. Her fingers
twitched steadily. I don’t think she realized it. “He’s a very
dangerous man. Eye witnesses that swear to testify against him have
come up missing. Judges don’t want to see him in their courtroom.
And when he does go to trial, no matter the evidence stacked
against him, he comes out clean as a whistle.”

“
The man is
untouchable.”

Sally went back to pacing. “I don’t
like this. I have this feeling that something bad is going to
happen. I need to talk to Frank. I need to see him.”

“
Sally, he said he would
call. Give him time.”

I read more of the file then pushed it
towards the center of the table. Jeff Dimeglio was bad news. I
understood where Sally’s worry stemmed from.

“
What if there is no
time?”

“
Sally, I don’t even know
where he is. He’s been through a lot today. He needs to hide out
someplace through the weekend.”

I heard her whisper to herself, “If he
loved me, he would have called.”

I was just about to offer to cook her
something to eat when a hard rock song exploded from her cell
phone. We both turned to look at the phone vibrating against the
black granite countertop next to the sink. I saw her face lift
then. She rushed to the phone and answered it with a desperate
plea. “Frank? Are you alright?”

There was a short pause, she exhaled
like Frank was fine, someplace safe. Which got me to thinking. Jeff
Dimeglio had tracked me back to Sally’s home just to put a note on
my car. Seeing how I did not meet his demands, there was no telling
what he might do. Finding someplace safe of our own was probably in
order.

Sally walked into her
bedroom and shut the door. I thought it was the part of the
conversation where they both got mushy and personal. Maybe it was
the first time
I love you
came out from either one. Or both. I let her have
her privacy. I made a chicken salad sandwich with Miracle Whip, not
mayo. I hate mayo. I opened up a new bag of barbeque chips and
wondered why it was half empty. I wondered why the supplier didn’t
make a bag proportionate to the size they would be filling. It was
a waste of material, I thought. As I sat at the table and ate like
I was famished, I began thinking past my annoyance with half-empty
chip bags to some more important issues. I knew I had at least
two.

First was the real hitman. With a
dangerous track record, it was going to be hard not to take his
threat seriously. And I had no way of contacting him. It’s not like
I could simply ask Palo for whatever number she had used to contact
me previously. And I had no idea what he looked like. His file had
no picture attached. Maybe it had printed but someone had taken the
page. Maybe there was never one to begin with. Any way I looked at
it though, this guy had the upper hand: he knew where I
lived.

Second was the fact that sooner or
later Andrik was going to want to see the girls. An inspection
would be in order. They would have to be made ready for pick up, as
he had said. I could lie to him all I wanted about having his list
fulfilled and held in a place of my own choosing, but time would
definitely run out. If I were going to make it through until
Saturday night, I was going to need a plan for sure.