Tanner sat looking distressed, conflicted. Her eyes stared forward as her gaze passed through the screen in front of her, and she silently thought to herself, cleaning her gun over and over despite never being dirty. Alexander strolled in the room and tilted his head, not even getting a reaction.
“Mission control to Tanner. Have we lost you?” he asked, brushing her hair.
“Do you trust Yuri?” she asked.
“Distinctly more than I trust Rowan, far less than I trust you, but that should be said the same for most humans. I trust very few, very little.”
“Everything he said so far has turned out to be true, but he hides a lot from us. Yes, I went through his laptop. He bought 3 tickets to a football game. Yuri doesn’t even like American sports. Look at the online tickets. It’s not even like the Superbowl game, and he bought 3 tickets. Who’s he going with? Has he ever mentioned having any friends? Now, on the other hand, look at the halftime show. James Chavez. Huge political activist, anti-war protestor. He’s spoken out against the Russian president’s actions. The guy is basically a protest machine. Is Yuri still working for Nadja?”
“Seems unlikely he would arm us all up like soldiers of fortune, with tainted currency given by that witch, when he wishes her dead as bad as most, and knows these may be the guns that kill her.” He argued.
“Look at this…blueprints of the stadium. Who buys 3 tickets to a game they don’t like and maps the layout of the damn building unless they're tickets for them to kill their next target?” she asked, as the front door shut, and she discreetly put her 7mm SMG on her lap. Yuri stepped into the main room and noticed them sitting there. “Forget something?” she asked as he stood looking guilty with 2 briefcases and no answer.
“You seem to have mistaken my laptop for yours.” He said with a sigh of annoyance.
“What’s in the briefcases?” she asked.
“Drugs, pornography.” He shrugged.
“Why did you get 3 tickets to the game?”
“I like football.” Yuri sighed.
“Name your favorite team, and 4 players on that team.” She asked. He sighed and chewed on the idea of just making it up on the spot.
“What are you getting at? Invade my personal space and start inquisition?”
“You’re going with Mike and Nadja to kill and or capture James Chavez, aren’t you?” Tanner bluntly asked.
“No, not exactly. I have connections telling me they may try and do the hit. I was attending to stop them, maybe get lucky and take out Nadja.”
“Oh bullshit. Who were you taking, your two other friends we don’t know, that you probably can’t name for secret reasons?” Tanner asked.
“No, you know them. I’m taking Alexander and Rowan. Rowan does not know, he’s not really friend, more like…extra option. Alexander, you recall the ammunition you wanted and the…mission we discussed?” he asked as Tanner turned and looked annoyed.
“Alex, what the fuck is he talking about?” she asked, as he now looked guilty and hesitant to answer.
“We may have…procured some vague plans to have a…masculine outing of some kind, and I was told to simply agree and not given the details, aside from be ready to shoot someone and have your gun sighted in.” He said, avoiding the word Mike.
“Alex, if you and Yuri wanna go to a movie or watch a game at a bar without me, that’s fine, but you’re planning to kill Nadja without me?” she asked, growing louder. “And you’re taking Rowan?”
“I was not aware of Rowan’s attendance until now. Rather ruins the mood, actually.” Alexander huffed, “Yuri failed to mention his inclusion to me, would have been nice.”
“Tanner, apologies.” Yuri interrupted. “I left this vague because I planned to recruit a third man, who refused the job when I told him Nadja was involved. Most people that know her fear her. Rowan is only backup option. We did not invite you because honestly we have concerns you might be a bit unwilling to do what might be necessary. The plan is to kill Nadja and subdue Mike, but this is fucking Michael Finn we’re talking about, he may not go down alive, and people may die. I would rather kill him than let him kill you or myself. This is unfortunate reality. You have bias. I asked Alexander to remain silent, and he did so to keep you safe. Here…you want to know what is in briefcase? Two FORT 230 9mm Ukrainian submachine guns, and animal tranquilizer guns. I got Alexander and myself CZ rifles and armor piercing rounds the other day. Why would I need armor piercing rounds and darts to kill…halftime-show asshole? Why would I buy Ukrainian pistols and American rifles when Mike makes fucking super-guns for his missions? When has Nadja ever darted anyone and kept them alive? Armor piercing rifles are for killing Nadja, dart is for Mike, and if dart fails, submachine guns are for Mike. You would not approve.” He explained.
“Damn right, I don’t approve. I’m your best asset out there. I know Mike better than anyone, and I’m the only one he won’t hurt, even in self-defense. I’m the only one who can dart his ass without him killing in return.” She barked.
“Exactly. Nadja knows this, she would kill you first. You and little dart gun against that monster, is bye-bye Tanner. Very sad funeral. You would get killed to save Mike, or get Mike killed, or us killed. You are liability because you have big heart and preacher blinders, and this is why I don’t just tell you things. Now mission is fucked.” he shrugged. "Because you will insist on going."
“Mission is not fucked, if you know where they are going to strike, we strike back. That’s what we’re trying to do here, that’s the whole point of this group!” she yelled.
“No,” Alexander spoke up, “This is where we differ in manifestos, love. We all want to make the world better by ridding it of the evil in it, the worst and out of control. However, we are vastly over our professional level, and you are protecting one of the monsters, that we need all the luck even hoping to compete with. This very group exists to kill the monsters, not tame them and cage them and rehabilitate. That’s what prisons and rehabs are for, criminals with a hope of rehabilitation. That’s why we don’t kill those criminals. Most of them can be saved. We are the ones called upon when the animals need to be put down, and you insist on subduing Mike, potentially the most lethal killer alive, humanely, as a pet, while he has no hesitation killing our team. Just like when he put a bullet in Caleb and one next to my head, on his religious quest to torture and kill a Mayor.”
“Alex, he was my friend. If you were taken prisoner, we’d risk our lives to bring you back, too.”
“He does not WANT rescued… He wants Nadja! HE. IS. HOME!” said Alexander, taking a breath to calmly brush his hair back behind his ear and have a smoke. “He chose her over you already, which in itself is fucking insane to me, and the very fact that even you must tranquilize him, to bring him in, kicking and fighting his chains, implies he does not want rescued. He is the enemy. If the chance to take the shot arises, we have the tranquilizers, but if my life and protecting you is suddenly dependent on it, bullets must be the next option. I promise you we fully intended to give him a quicker and cleaner death than say, Sage Ember, who he probably has hanging from shackles without skin, or whatever was planned for James Chavez. A quick and clean shot is as good as one can dream of receiving, in this kind of work, and Mike is working, for the damn devil now. You simply cannot admit it.” Alexander said, chain-smoking nervously.
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“Why do I feel like the goal was always just killing him, and the dart gun was the backup plan?” She asked.
“Really depended on how things went.” Yuri admitted. “Once Nadja was dead, Mike would have chance to either seek vengeance or thank us. If he looked like vengeance was inevitable, I would not bother with dart. Dart was…optimistic option. Better to have than not. My apologies, for being honest and realistic. I do not believe in fairly tail happy ending, nor does Alexander. Those are for young girls in love. Unfortunately, many of them fall in love with the wrong man and get hurt. Neither of us wants this. What did Alexander say the other night? Better you angry with him than dead on good terms?” he asked.
“More or less.” Alexander shrugged. Tanner calmed her rage with a deep breath.
“Okay, well I’m the group leader, so… Either mutiny and kick me out, or we bring me in on the plans. I won’t tell you to die, so Mike can live, but I’ll tell you to trust me and give him a chance. She has him brainwashed somehow. He’s fixable if he’s alive and she's dead. Just promise if you can take him alive, you’ll try it first. And if you can’t do that, and you have to defend yourself, I’ll understand. But the dart is the first plan, plan B is the bullet. We’re all on the same page when it comes to Nadja just getting the bullets first. I just wish EVERYONE didn’t lie to me.” She said, storming off and slamming the door.
“Well…” Alexander sighed. “I believe there went Plan A, so do please tell me you have some form of Russian operative maneuver ready for this scenario, that does not involve darting Tanner.”
“I will improvise. Plans change. I adapt.” He said, putting down the guns and heading the other way to the backyard, as Alexander threw his hands up in frustration.
“Are we NOT ALL ON THE SAME TEAM!?” he yelled.
Nadja picked up the phone, looking irritated at the interruption, as Mike rolled to the side to let her up.
“Da? Your timing is terrible, Yuri. This is why I dislike you sometimes.”
“Plans have changed. You will dislike me more if I said nothing. Tanner has suspicious of my allegiance and I have adjusted my cover to fix it, but she knows of the sports game and the activist. I told them dart gun was to subdue Mike and machine guns were for mission to kill you. So they will be attending the event to stop the kill and attempt to kill you. Do you want to simply cancel?”
“Nyet, you shaved ape. We do not cancel. We ADAPT. Did you deliver the ammunition?” she sighed.
“Yes. I told them it was armor piercing. Vests should be sufficient, if they use 9mm guns. Nobody here is sniper, nobody is using long range rifle, or getting guns into a stadium. You should forget taking Chavez alive. Just kill him on stage and make video later, same effect. Dead activist, bible message, less for me to clean up.” Yuri shrugged, looking back to check for followers. “Please don’t Kill Alexander, he’s not a threat, and it would break Tanner’s heart.”
“Why does everyone seem to love Tanner so much?” Nadja snarled. “Don’t begin to tell me who to kill and let live. We made a deal, remember that.” She said hanging up.
Gabe woke to a phone ringing and answered it. “It’s 2AM,” he sighed.
“We got a hit on one of the burner phones, Gabe.” Said Dyson, “They’re going after some singer at a football game, and there’s another group that Russian dick is working for who’s trying to take out the terrorists. I think we inspired a knock-off group, but they don’t sound very prepared. I traced the burner call. Gabe, it’s 25 minutes from here, we could intercept right now and nail the main guy’s bitch. Call everyone you can, on the way, meet me here. I’ll have the truck loaded up before you arrive.” Dyson chuckled, hanging up. “Oh motherfucker, you just did yourself in. Welcome to America, bitch.”
“schas po ebalu poluchish, suka!” Nadja yelled at the phone, hanging up on Yuri. She threw her wine glass across the room, gnashing her teeth.
“Change of plans, I guess?” Mike asked. Nadja sat looking annoyed and breathed coldly, looking back at him.
“Tell me, Michael, would you kill Yuri if I asked?” she sighed.
“Without hesitation. Is that an order or a hypothetical question?” he asked.
“Hypothetical scenario, subject to change into real order. What if I told you to kill them all? Alexander, Yuri, Rowan, everyone other than your precious Tanner?”
“Alexander is kind of a prick, but he’s good for Tanner. He’s afraid of us, and he’s afraid we will kill Tanner. He’s the best ally we have without him knowing it, because as long as his chicken-shit ass prefers to stay away, he keeps tanner safe with him. If I kill him, she may lose faith in me, or just get her heart broken. Either way, it’s a risk, and I would offer a better alternative. Now, if you want Yuri and Rowan dead, just say the word. She needs Alex. We need her to need Alex. There are no other young killers she respects and trusts who I trust around her. Without me, she needs someone. She’s impulsive. So, if you have a replacement boyfriend in mind, with better credentials, go ahead and name him.” Mike smirked.
“Stupid little cutter should have left with her, ran away to another state.” Nadja angrily brooded.
“Well, you were the one who stole her boyfriend. Immature little killers with no family tend to take that personal, you’re lucky she’s not a better shot. Relax, we can just kill Chavez and get out. Dead in public send a message, and next time we’ll leave Yuri out of the plan so he can’t screw it up.” Mike yawned.
“How is the Judas coming along?” she asked.
“Done. Ready to go and tested.”
“And Azazel?”
“It’s…almost perfect. Ready to test soon.” He shrugged.
“Spoil me, Preacher. I want to see something bleed tonight.” She hissed. "What better night for a test? Wake up Azazel.”
The bell chimed as a gas-station door opened, and Mike strolled in, heavy coat and a stiffness in his step. He grabbed a bag of snacks and a bottle of vodka, looking around casually as the lights flickered and went out, turning back on a few moments later. He smiled, taking note of the people in the convenience area. He staggered to the counter and stared at the lady behind it. She looked up with concern and back to the register.
“You’re not supposed to drink those before paying, but I won’t tell anyone. Already partying, I see? Lucky you. Sorry for the lights, they keep flickering tonight.”
“There’s a storm building.” He said ominously.
“Report says clear skies and cool night. Perfect for a walk.” She winked.
“Is that you in there?” he smirked, giving her several bad vibes.
“Hitting that vodka real heavy already. Yea, it’s actually me in here.” She said with an attitude, tilting her glasses. “It pretty much always is. That’ll be $15.50”
“Can you see anything out of place?” he asked, stepping back and holding his arms out, so the coat would hang loosely. She looked him over.
“Fly’s not open; I didn’t see you steal anything. Why, you got a hot date later? You look fine, drunk, but fine.” She replied. “Mint it up, and go for it, bro. Lights keep going out like this, you'll be late for your date.”
“You know you don’t glow in the dark.” He sighed ominously. “That would make you harder to hit from a distance.” He said, tilting the gun tucked under his arm, slung to by a belt strap and now clearly visible. Her eyes went cold as she froze in place. He swigged on the bottle again.
“Just take what you want. It’s fine.” She whispered nervously, opening the register.
“I don’t know how you wanna play this game, so you can get a running start or stay there and go for a weapon. I like not knowing your next move.” He said, as she held her hands up and slowly made her way to the door.
“Buddy, you give me 30 seconds, and I’ll be 500 yards down that road. Totally quiet and no alarms.” She breathed heavily.
“Sounds good. 500 yards, 30 seconds.” He said softly.
Mike leaned outside the gas station entrance, watching her run down the road and counting in his head as he shifted the selector on Azazel up to the red R middle point on the tiny bullpup rifle. The click of the 2 barrels rotating positions and placing the 7mm caliber on bottom was barely audible. He shouldered it and peered into the dawn lighting with the iron sights, estimating 500 yards and pulling the trigger. The gun made a soft little puff, like a BB gun, the thud of the round hitting flesh almost as loud as the shot. He took a deep breath, clicking the selector down one notch as the barrels rotated to 45 caliber. He racked the bolt back and caught the 2-inch-long skinny copper bullet, pocketing it. Taking aim carefully as she pulled herself up, trying to drag her legs. He fired 2 quick shots, hitting the back and the head, louder puffs this time, but oddly quiet. He began silently counting down from 666 as he clicked the selector up to the top position. The barrels rotating back to 7mm and a long copper 45 round ejected into his hand, as he racked the gun to open bolt mode. He pulled 2 magazines from behind the grip, topping off them both with very different shells and slapping them back in side by side, checking the chamber for silver. His count reached zero as he strolled back inside the gas station. Not a head looked up, as if nobody heard anything. He untucked the rifle, switching to full auto and holding it out, icy fingers caressed his hand and neck, taking the gun from him.
“Right on time. Azazel’s all yours.” Mike said, placing the empty vodka bottle down, as Nadja clicked on Azazel’s laser and shouldered it.
“Now I’m having fun.” She whispered, shots ringing out loudly in 3 sets of two rapid taps, as screaming and panic ensued. Mike unholstered his pistol, casually following her to make finishing headshots, no sense letting them suffer, even if they did glow when the lights went out. Every one of them still alive would be reaching for their guns. She did a rapid mag-change behind the grip, letting fresh shotgun shells seat in snugly, and shifting to the 45 barrel. She held down the trigger and 8 deafening blasts of buckshot rang out in the station, followed by the sound of absolutely nothing.
