Blood on Blood

SEVENTEEN

Jerzy

The morning is clear and brisk as I come out of the apartment entryway. I walk to my car and my stomach is growling like a bastard. I’m heading to Joe Campo’s, a great little place to get a coffee and a little breakfast.

I didn’t sleep worth a damn, as usual. Dreams of running, can’t get away, that kind of shit. All the rest about last night, though? Oh, that had been just fine.

As I open the car door and start to get in, I happen to look up at her little third floor bay window and Ania is standing there, looking down at me.

She’s holding a blue robe loosely around her and even from this distance, I’m looking to see if I can get a glimpse of pleasant valley. Damn if I don’t think about climbing the steps right back up there. Just for a minute. Or an hour.

I tried to sneak out of her place before she even woke up. No kissy kiss good morning with breakfast on a tray. I mean, that just ain’t happening, not for anybody. Then again, I guess if it was to happen, she’d be the one.

She’s sleepy and has that ‘where the hell am I’ look on her face, but then she waves slowly and gives me a weak grin. Damn.

I wave back and give her a big smile. For a minute I’m just like little Johnny boyfriend saying goodbye until another date tonight. Johnny, who can’t stand to leave his sweet Susie, not even for a second.

But hey, last night had been what I needed to get smoothed out and leveled up. Some athletes say that before the Super Bowl or a big game or whatever, they don’t have sex for two weeks. They say they are hungrier, angrier and meaner that way.

Well, I say bullshit. That may be good for them and all but this isn’t about playing no fucking football game today. I’m killing people today. She was exactly what I needed.

After about three mugs of coffee, three eggs and sausage patties at Campo’s, I’m good to go. And hash browns. Yeah, I had some greasy hash browns too.

I go back to my little shack apartment for the shit, shower and shave routine. I square my things away, pack what I want to take with me. Just a small gym bag. I’m taking some clothes, cash and some other stuff just in case I’m either on the move or hunkered down for awhile. You just never know with something like this, how things are going to go down and all.

I lightly clean my berretta although it doesn’t really need it. She always goes with me. I don’t care if I’m using their piece for the deal or not. I will have my gun too. That’s just the way it is.

A short drive and I pull into the hotel parking lot, going around to the side of the building. It’s just now eleven and I have an hour to spare. Sliding down in the seat a little, I look straight ahead at the concrete wall of the building and smile.

I’m getting that familiar early killing buzz, but it’s all about keeping that energy stowed until later. It’s low level right now and it’s good. I’m relaxed, calm and smooth but I can still feel that tension.

I look in the rear view mirror at myself and smile again, knowing this is the right kind of tension. Keeps me sharp, I see all and hear everything. I react and just do it.

I leave the bag in the car, light a cigarette and walk around to the hotel’s front door. I smoke and walk slowly with my hands in my pockets. Newspaper under one arm, casual, like I’m just another goof that stayed at the Marriott Courtyard last night.

Inside, there is mini lobby and a little breakfast nook for people to get a stale bagel and a banana or some shit. I walk to the coffee canisters they have setup over in the corner and get a cup.

I smile at the old Mexican gal that is busy cleaning up everything after the continental breakfast. Then I stroll over to the main desk clerk who is busily typing away at his little keyboard. He’s young, got his hair all slicked back and I can just tell he hates this place. He thinks he’s better than this shit. He should be downtown at the front desk of the Conrad, on the Magnificent Mile.

I stand there for a minute.

He types away, pulls out a drawer, looks at something, and goes back to typing.

I take a sip of my coffee and then lean over the fake marble counter.

“Could I get a late checkout? I know that it’s only eleven fifteen but can I have until twelve thirty?”

“Sorry. Checkout at noon.” Type, type, type.

“All right. Thanks, anyway. The room was nice.”

“Great, that’s good.” The phone rings and he picks it up. He finally looks at me as I’m turning, but not really. I’m just one more asshole that he needs to deal with, a faceless customer. And that is exactly what I wanted to be.

I go over and sit down in one of the chairs they have ringed around a big digital television. Some other stroke in a suit and tie is sitting on a small couch, watching CNN with his little roller bag and laptop next to him.

How do people do this? I mean seriously. How the fuck do you spend your life doing this kind of shit? Traveling, staying in hotels, or hell, working in hotels, whatever. I look at the business geek a little longer and can see he hates this, just like the desk clerk over there hates this. Poor fucks, but it’s their own fault.

I open the Tribune and flip to the sports page to read about how this is finally gonna be the year for the Cubs. I got the paper up but I’m listening to the elevators just off the lobby.

Andros, the big crew cut monster, and Dobry, I’m guessing, come down at about five till noon. I see them over the top of my newspaper and they walk to the edge of the lobby and look around. Only the two of them and they look like they’re supposed to, I suppose. Nice enough clothes and all but they can dress up all they want and two soldiers are still two soldiers.

The business geek is still sitting there and a middle aged couple is also watching the TV, all slack jawed and eyes glazed over. Patrik’s two men quickly see me and Andros gives me a small raised chin. There is a new desk clerk now and he’s on the phone. I get up, pat my pockets and find my pack of cigarettes. I get my cell phone out and look busily at its blank screen. Walking outside, I light up and wait for them.

“Mister Jerzy. It is good to see you once again.” Andros actually gives me a thin smile, then nods to his partner. “This would be Dobry. He will assist us.”

Dobry doesn’t say anything but instead gives me a short nervous nod. He doesn’t look at me. The kid is scared. I can smell it on him.

“It’s Jerzy. Just Jerzy, okay? No mister shit.” I smile at them both and put my cell phone away.

They wait like two big dogs at heel. Attentive and listening for the next command. Fetch, kill, roll over. Neither says anything more and they both just look at me. Andros could be waiting for a bus right now, emotionless and patient.

Never seen this guy Dobry before but he’s the short stocky type. When I say short, I just mean he’s not as tall as me and he, like everybody else, looks like a fuckin’ midget standing next to Andros. The kid probably goes five eleven maybe but he’s built like a wrestler, with the face to match. He’s really no kid, either. I’d say probably mid to late twenties. So, hey, he’s a tough shit no doubt but there’s also no doubt on this being his first time with this kind of deal. A kill, I mean.

I clear my throat and smile again, “So, what’s your room number boys?”

“Room number is 419, Jerzy.” Andros shifts to a casual parade rest, hands crossed in front of him.

“I’ll meet you up there in five minutes. Also, you guys better start taking this shit a little more serious. Quit jackin’ around so much.”

Dobry’s dark eyebrows come together. He shoots a look to Andros, who has actually gotten the joke and has a tight grin on his face.

At the room a few minutes later, Andros lets me in and then bolts the door behind me. He shows me the map of the park and it includes about a city block around the outside of the park. He’s got it spread out on the bed and points out several spots on the map. Dobry sits at the small desk in the room, watching from a distance but listening intently.

“Yeah, okay, we’ll get back to the map in a second. Show me the gun I’m supposed to be using.”

Dobry stands up and goes to the other bed, unzips a small roller suitcase and takes out a couple of shirts. There are three felt shoe bags in there. He brings over the bags, loosens the string ties and pulls the pieces out one by one.

They’re fucking beautiful. All three are identical, silver Ruger MK11s. Built in suppressors, ten round clips. If this is a throw away gun, I’d like to see a keeper. Great gun. I’ve never used one but definitely know of them. I pick one up, clear it, bounce it gently up and down in my hand. It has excellent weight and balance.

“Hey, Andros, while I’m thinking about it, turn the television on. Not too loud but loud enough, okay?” I don’t look up. I’m still studying the piece. “We just need a little background noise, is all.”

The pistols have no markings that I can see. Serials are gone. Nothing. I sit on the edge of the bed and spend a few minutes with it; clear it again, work the safety, pop the clip in and out, hold it in each hand and sight down the barrel.

It’s a.22, but in my mind that’s exactly what you want for what we’re going to be doing. I don’t want a cannon or any two foot long Dirty Harry pistol. This is close in stuff. So, as far as the gun goes, I’m good with it. I’m real good with it. Patrik has wasted no expense. Let’s face it, the weapon is a big part of this kind of thing.

“One more quick thing. I need to see the money.”

Andros walks to the closet and kneels down. There is one of those little hotel safes in there. He opens it up and stares at me. I walk over and he pulls out a small Nike gym bag. I bend down and pick it up, carrying it to the bed. It only takes a second to figure that I’m looking at two K. It smells real good.

“Thanks. Go ahead and lock it back up, all right?” I watch him put the bag back in and he spins the dial.

“Combination?”

Andros smiles that razor thin grin and digs a piece of paper out of his pocket. He hands it to me and then sweeps a hand toward the safe.

I look at the numbers. “It’s all right. I trust you, crew cut.”

I wave the two over to the bed. Dobry takes his chair and moves it in closer.

“First, you guys got gloves? I have real tight golf gloves I use. Second, are you wearing something to cover your face? I use a thin hunting mask that I pull up from down around my neck.”

“We have masks, the stocking masks kind. There are no gloves,” Dobry says and looks at Andros. His voice is steady but his eyes aren’t. It’s the first words he has spoken.

“Okay, how will the guns be dumped?”

“I will throw them in the Des Plaines river at a park reserve. I have used this location before.” Then Andros gives me a look that says ‘don’t worry about it’, so I don’t.

“All right, well it’s your choice on the gloves.”

Both of them nod.

“Okay, listen up,” I say. “I already know exactly how we’re gonna do this but I want to talk through it anyway. Trust me, I know what the fuck I’m doing here.”

I’m not too worried about Andros but I look over at Dobry and nod to him, then I keep nodding. His eyes loosen up a little and his body language is a little better. I punch his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re going to kill this old bastard Viktor Skansi. We’re gonna take him out and his wife and whoever else needs to be nailed. Patrik said no limits on this one. Anyone in the way goes down. In a few hours, the old Russian pig will be joining his son Bogdan in hell.”

I light up a smoke.

“Is it always six o’clock when they pull up?”

Andros clears this throat and begins in his short clipped accent.

“Yes, this is always. I have been a part of this surveillance. They will drive up to the curb on Mercy Boulevard. Street is quiet, one way. Six o’clock. On other side of Mercy is a car lot and next to it is a closed gas station.” He runs a big finger down the map, along the small road and stops where the car will. He looks up at me and repeats, “Always at six.”

“Keep going.”

“Viktor Skansi and wife stay inside the car while the three bodyguards get out. There is one guard who starts out ahead. He goes into park all the way to the center statue and takes his position. Waits.”

“What do they pack? What weapons?” I’m looking at the map and at the little center square, with the statue.

“They never show guns but they wear heavy long coats that are unbuttoned all the way down. Maybe underneath they could have shoulder strap for small military type automatic weapon. Hanging straight down along the leg.” Then he shrugs, shakes his head no. “But no, I don’t think. Most certainly they have hand guns.”

“Got it. The one guard goes to the statue, then what?” It really doesn’t matter too much but I still want to hear it all.

“They wait five minutes for him to get in place. Always. You cannot see statue from where the car is. Path curls around trees and bushes. Then one guard gets wheelchair out of the trunk while the other stands at the limo door where Skansi and his wife will get out.”

“Okay.”

“Wheelchair is set up and brought around to door. Viktor Skansi and guard help his wife into chair. One guard starts walking very slowly towards center of park. The old man wheels his wife onto sidewalk pathway and follows. Last guard walks behind the old couple at distance of say 15 meter, same distance between as man in front.”

“All right good, the walk lasts about fifteen minutes right?”

“Yes, that is right. They go around statue and back again.”

“No stops along the way?”

“No stops.”

“Pull up at the same curb, same place and same route every time?

“Yes.”

“Any other men, more guards you might have seen once. Anybody around you think could have maybe been a guard, maybe, just couldn’t tell for sure?”

“No, never different. I have no doubt on that.”

“Hey, wait. No driver? No driver waiting in the car the whole time?”

Andros smiles and shakes his head back and forth slowly. “No and no. One of the guards is also driver.”

“Okay, so look,” I check my watch. “It’s only like twelve thirty. Let’s take a little drive.”

We take their car just in case my car had maybe somehow been made in the last week or so. Coming in and out of Ambrozy’s, something like that. Never know. Hey, Patrik’s boys were watching them, so the Russians had to be watching Patrik.

Coming into the park from the west side, we just look around a little. Not long, and we don’t walk together. I just want to get some bearings and landmarks in my head. Eyeball everything.

We grab sandwiches and shit after that and then head back to the Marriott with it. About forty five minutes later, we’re sitting in the room again.

I take a pen from the nightstand and draw on the map, adding and filling in with x’s and o’s for small stands of trees and hedges. A small gazebo near the path they would be taking. I darken the statue in the little square.

I go to the window, light a smoke and look outside. Clouding up a little and getting colder, no doubt. Luckily, there won’t be much going on in the park. Even so, it still ain’t all that bad for April in Chicago.

My two guys look at the park map and then at me. They wait patiently.

“We park the car where we just did and come into the park from the far west side, just like earlier. First two guys that go will be the two guards with the old man. Andros, you’ll be here behind the little gazebo.” I tap it with the pen. “As soon as the lead guard gets by you, walk in from behind and take him. I’ll see you move before you even do, and I take the rear guard. It’ll be bang bang. My guy won’t even get a shot off, I promise you that.”

Then I point on the park map again, at a spot along the gently curving pathway. “That will leave Viktor Skansi and his wife in the middle, right about here. He might have a gun, but I bet not. Even if he does, he’ll be no match. Him and the old lady die right the fuck there.”

Andros is nodding, looks at me briefly and then back to the map.

“I take out Viktor, and Andros, you take out the old lady. Go straight at her with no hesitation. We do ‘em both at the same time. Don’t even look my way, Andros. I got the old bastard. Even if he’s carrying a damn bazooka, I got him. Afterward, we make sure on both of them. There can’t be no miraculous recoveries for these two in the ICU at Northwestern Hospital. It won’t be pretty, know what I’m saying? So, any questions yet?”

I look at the two. Andros smiles at me and shakes his head no.

“But, what should I do?” Dobry looks at Andros, then at me. “What is my job here?” He holds his hands out, palms up.

“Thought you’d never ask, rookie. As soon as Andros and I start firing, you take out the first guy. The statue guy. I want you right here.” I point again at the map. “Behind this hedge, it will be perfect, close to where Andros says the guy waits for them to circle the square and head back.”

Dobry nods and points. “Tak.”

“Our guns will be quiet but you’ll still hear them cough from where you’re at. Hit him quick because he’ll hear them too. As soon as your man is down — and make sure with him, too — you head straight the fuck to the car. Don’t look back, just go. Get to the car, get it started and you wait for us.”

Dobry is looking better, almost like he’s ready to rock and roll. Of course we’re not at the park and he’s not waiting behind a tree yet. And he can’t hear that guy walking toward him, down the sidewalk, getting closer.

“Dobrze?” Andros is looking at him too. “Dobry. Okay with this?”

“Tak. Tak. Dobrze.” He even grins, looking first at Andros and then me.

I did it this way for a couple of reasons. I figure he, and we for that matter, would be better off with him out of the big party. It would be pretty easy for Dobry to knock this single guy down from behind and then get the fuck back to the car and be ready to drive us out.

Now, I know I was right. He is all over this plan. Relieved almost.

“You don’t even think about leaving unless you get a call from Andros or me. Domyslny?”

“Understood.” He leans back a little and looks at us. “Tak.”

“Three more things and they’re fuckin’ important. Again, we make sure all of them are stone dead. If you need to put another clip in, do it, but put the old clip in your pocket. Two, no talk between us and sure as hell no names. Three, anyone — and I mean a jogger, a young couple, an innocent bystander — anyone gets in the way, sees you or gets in the line of fire, they go down too.”

After that, I go over the whole thing again. Then, once more. It’s a little after three in the afternoon when I quit. We were as ready as we were gonna be.

“Eat if you’re hungry and just relax for a little bit. Four thirty, we gear up, check everything and then head out at five sharp. Five thirty comes, we’re already in the park, in position and waiting.”

Its ten till six and we’ve all been where we should be for a good twenty minutes. I’m tucked in behind a thick, shoulder high hedge and the huge trunk of a maple tree. Behind me is nothing but a little empty park bench and a small clearing. I keep looking back there just to make sure, but there’s nobody around and hardly anybody in the whole park.

Sun just went down but there’s still plenty of light.

I’m holding the Ruger in my jacket pocket with an extra clip in there too. It feels good. Safety is off and I’m ready to rock. I can see the gazebo that Andros is behind and it’s pretty close to me. The path curls right around by where I am and then heads over to him by the gazebo. When the lead guy finally goes by, I’ll be able to almost spit on him, he’ll be that close.

It’s five till now and I’m jazzed. A controlled jazz. I’m way ready and all my senses are at the max. It’s like I just did two lines of primo coke.

At six sharp, I hunker down a little more, with only one eye barely poking around the big tree trunk.

Couple of minutes past six and there he is. I see the first guard coming around the bend of the path. Three or four long seconds go by and then behind him comes the wheel chair into view. The old lady is being pushed along by the old bastard himself, Viktor Skansi. Lead guard is maybe 30 yards away from me now and coming.

It’s show time. I pull the gun and reach for my mask. Earlier I told the other two to wait until the last second on the mask. Last thing you want is some jogger to be trotting along with ten minutes to go and start a problem when he sees guys with masks.

I hear it behind me then, some rustling and then a soda can plinks against something. Whipping around, I put the gun on whatever it is and I’m staring at a guy in a park district uniform. Big ugly asshole, mouth open and gawking at me. He’s holding one of those poker things and has a large garbage bag strapped on his shoulder. I pull the mask up from my collar and draw down on him.

“You stay right there, you fuck. Don’t move, don’t talk.” I hissed it in a whisper. They’re too fucking close to just take him right now. Fuck me. He points at me and then he grins. The bastard is grinning at me. But he doesn’t move or say anything.

I shoot a quick peek back to the path and the lead guard is right there, not twenty yards from where I’m at. Turning back to the park district fuck, I just catch a last glimpse of him, all squatted down and bolting like a scalded dog. He lumbers around a hedge corner and out of view, heading south. Away from this shit, at least. Fuck.

I turn back to our business. There has been no talk from any of the Russians as they’ve shuffled past. The lead guy is almost even with the gazebo now, Skansi about 15 yards in front of where I am and the rear guard just passed me. I circle around the back of tree trunk, timing it with my guard’s walk, so I have a clear path to get to him.

I can see the gazebo good. My guy is bored, isn’t looking around at all and I step out from the tree a little more. Just when I do, I see a slight movement by the gazebo and I hear two quick muffled pops up ahead. Gun straight out and steady, I walk quickly to my man. Andros with his stocking mask on, is up ahead, coming my way. His guy is on both knees, I hear two more pops from Andros.

My guard is frozen for a second with what’s going on right in front of him. Taking it all in and trying to process it I guess. He finally raises a pistol but I put one directly into the back of his skull from about six feet. The guy’s head explodes like a ripe melon. Fucker is down, gone. He flops onto his gut, hands out and his head bounces on the concrete walk. I keep my walk going and I put one in his left ear as I pass him.

Quick, no fucking around, like we need it to be. All of this has probably happened in twenty seconds. Max.

I‘ve had my eye on Skansi now since my first shot and the old man is standing there with his hands up a little but out sideways too. He looks at me, then at Andros and back to me. He’s stepping away from the old lady slowly and her head is swiveling around like a spinning top.

In the distance, and its gotta be Dobry, I barely hear two pops — but then a louder crack. Not good.

Skansi decides to make a break for some trees and a hedge line about twenty feet away. He don’t move so well anymore. I hit him in the upper thigh and he goes down real hard on his side, but right away he’s trying to crawl. I have plenty of shots left but as I’m walking up on him I pop out the clip, put it in my pocket and clack in the new clip.

I close right in on the old man now, watching his hands reaching for a gun or something but I know and he knows too, this game is over. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Andros walking quickly, ruthless and heartless, towards the old lady. He reminds me of that Terminator movie. She might outright die before he even shoots her.

I hear two more soft pops from Dobry’s gun in the distance. C’mon kid, what the fuck you doin’? Just take your guy out.

Skansi has left a trail of blood in the grass and dirt and he rolls over to look up at me.

“Baaastard.” His voice is weak but the look on his face is pure hate. “You Polack pig.” He spits blood at my leg.

“Yes Viktor, that’s right. And hey, I’m also the pig that killed your sissy ass son Bogdan, too. Just wanted you to know that.” I watch as he realizes what I had just said and his eyes focus on me harder. I give him my best smile.

Three measured shots, one in the forehead one in the left eye. The third, well, it just kinda goes into the middle of the scrambled mess.

As I turn to Andros, I hear a weak scream cutoff with a pop and see the old lady’s head bounce hard up against the back of the wheelchair. She goes all limp but stays upright and only her head falls to one shoulder. Andros takes what is offered to him and puts another shot in her temple.

We look at each other and I twirl my finger around in the air. He heads off in one direction and me in another.

Two minutes later, other side of the park, and I approach the car. Both my guys are already in the car. My mask is down around my collar again and it looks like a scarf, my reversible jacket is now red, instead of blue.

I should be happy as the sirens I hear are still off in the distance and I see nothing around the car or street that says trouble. We’re home free, done deal and I got some big money waiting for me back at the hotel.

I get in and Patrik’s boys are grinning ear to ear. We drive off slow and careful, zigzagging our way down residential streets. We get farther and farther away from the park. Nothing behind us. Like I said, I should be happy. We fucking did it, did it perfect. All of them are dead. It was a clean hit. Almost.

Problem is, all I can see is that park district worker. What were the fucking chances he would be standing there? He saw me good, too. That big, ugly asshole with the long giraffe neck had made me.

Kos, yeah, that’s his name. The big bouncer that I had gotten into it with at Ambrozy’s. Made him look like a pussy, told him I was gonna hurt him. Made him run off like a little girl.

When he pointed at me and smiled, I had finally recognized him. I knew who he was.

I also knew I was fucked.

Seriously.