Blood on Blood

TWENTY-EIGHT

Mick

I pulled up in front of the hotel and parked outside the main doors like I was checking in. I walked into the lobby and straight to the elevator. My body was singing with adrenaline. The pain in my ribs seemed to fade. As amped as I felt, my body seemed to have an athletic looseness to it. I felt like I was ready to run the race of my life.

And win.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. An arrow on the wall put room 340 to the left. I walked down the hallway a short distance and stopped in front of the door.

Jerzy was on the other side of this door. So were the diamonds. And Ania. Everything I’d wanted this past week, everything I’d wanted my whole life, was on the other side of this door. All I had to do was take it.

I stepped forward and gave the door a hard boot, right beside the handle. I’d taken down more than a few doors when I was with the cops and this was no different. The wooden doorjamb shattered right at the latch. The door flew inward and I came in right behind it.

Jerzy stood next to the bathroom, his hand raised to knock on the closed door. His face registered surprise. I took another step and drove my foot into his stomach.

He staggered backward, bumping into the corner of a table. That tripped him up and he tumbled to the ground. He rebounded to his knees. Before he could stand, I moved forward, throwing another kick. This one caught him flush in the chin, snapping his head back. He fell over backward.

I pounced on him, reaching for his throat. He raised his hands weakly, trying to fend me off. His eyes were dazed, but they cleared quickly. That animalistic anger settled back into those eyes and his hands reached up to mine.

I squeezed.

He let go and punched me in the ribs again. The pain ricocheted through my body. I struggled to keep my grip on his throat, but his huge hands grabbed onto my wrists and pried my fingers free.

His knee slid upward toward my groin, but I slipped sideways to avoid the blow. His foot found purchase on my thigh and he pushed upward with his leg and arms.

I flew up and back, landing comically on the king size bed.

Jerzy flipped over and scrambled toward the gym bag in the corner.

Gun. He had to be going for a gun.

I slid off the edge of the bed and took a step toward him.

“Jerzy.”

She’d come out of the bathroom. Her voice wasn’t frantic any longer. It was hard.

Jerzy stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. Then he smiled a mean smile. “That’s my girl,” he said. Then he glanced over at me. “Time’s up, Hero. You’re fucked now-”

There was a concussive barking sound, along with a distinct clacking. At the same time, the top part of Jerzy’s head disappeared in a red spray of blood and bone. He flopped to the ground, coming to rest on his side. He was looking right at me, eyes wide open. He blinked once, his right hand jerked and he blinked once more slowly. Then it was done. His fixed stare was full of dull hate and disbelief.

I let out a sigh of relief that was more of a groan and limped around the corner.

Ania’s back was to me as she closed the door to the room and swung the safety latch to keep it in place. Then she turned around.

I expected her to be afraid or at least wary that perhaps Jerzy might rise up like some kind of zombie or something. But her pale blue eyes were calm and resolute. The gun dangled in her hand, a small tendril of smoke rising from the silencer.

“You did it,” I said. “It’s over.”

Ania walked toward me, her steps firm, her expression flat and emotionless. Steam swirled at her feet as she walked past the bathroom door.

A small pang of sadness struck a chord in my gut.

She didn’t say word. She didn’t have to.

I closed my eyes.