Revenge is Best Served Cold

"Fuck you Shevchenko. You'll never get away with this."

"I will sweet Lehka, I will." He stepped up next to me and put his gloved hand under my chin. I jerked my head away.

"I guess you're choosing the knife," he said to me. I made no choice yet I was feeling responsible for Rodriguez's imminent death. I eyed the knife again before he picked it up.

He towered over Rodriguez, whose knees had weakened. The man behind him was propping him up, pulling his head back by the hair to expose his neck. I couldn't bear to witness his death and started to turn my head away.

"Look," growled the man standing behind me, "or I hurt you too."

I watched with disbelieving eyes. Shevchenko drew the gleaming chromed blade against Rodriguez's exposed throat, cutting the top layer of skin and causing a trickle of blood to drip down his neck. Rodriguez let out a hair raising scream. I watched him desperately trying to get away.

"Did you want me to continue? I will if you don't say anything." Shevchenko stared at me with his haunting face.

"No, please," I said immediately. I had no choice but to beg this madman for Rodriguez's life.

"Ah, sweet Lehka can talk."

He smiled at me and said to his minion, "Sergei, take him back to his room."

Rodriguez was dragged by his collar out of the room. I let out a big sigh. Maybe my words saved his life. Maybe. My thoughts went back to my tormenter.

"We have something we'd like you to try," Shevchenko told me, as if I had a choice.

When Sergei returned he cut the plastic zip ties binding my wrists. I rubbed the raw flesh to restore circulation. Sergei put a syringe, a balloon and length of rubber tubing on the table. I knew what it was. I knew what they wanted me to do. I'd never done drugs before. I'd never even smoked marijuana. I busted plenty of junkies who had this paraphernalia. I never thought I'd be using it. My initial reaction was a hard no. I'd knew what they'd threaten. I had to resist. What else could I have done?

"No," I told them with as much resolve as I could muster.

"Did you want me to have Sergei retrieve Rodriguez?" my captor asked me. He held all the cards. He showed me one and I had to fold. I had no doubt he would kill Rodriguez if I didn't comply. I was willing to die for Rodriguez, and perhaps I would.

My resistance only bought me ten seconds of additional freedom. Now Shevchenko was going to do what he intended to do the whole time. The knife to Emil's throat was all a perverted farce for my benefit. He might kill Rodriguez anyway but he wanted to show me that he had the power and the will to do horrible things to us. I resigned myself to his sadistic vision.

Sergei helped me. He emptied the powder into the spoon, adding a bit of distilled water, and heated it. He filled the syringe with the bubbling liquid. He pulled the tubing tight around my arm, to the point of discomfort. I saw my vein bulge. He flicked the vein and then stuck the needle in. I felt barely a prick. I watched the liquid go inside me and then instantly felt a sudden sense of calm and euphoria. I blinked hard. I saw Max. She was holding me. She told me it would be all right. She told me...

I closed my eyes and let my mind slip away into the blackness...

* * *

I woke up hot, sweaty and thirsty. I was laying on a bare mattress. My hands and feet felt heavy, as if they were encased in concrete. There was virtually no ambient lighting so I couldn't even see my hand. I had a terrible fucking headache. I think I pissed into the cheap sweat pants they substituted for my uniform. I stood up and reached to my left and felt a cold concrete wall that was covered with a thin layer of slimy moisture. The cold went through me.

I sat back down. The full weight of what happened to me came down that instant. My shoulders slumped when I realized he was going to get me addicted to heroin and probably farmed out to his network of prostitutes. I sucked in deep breaths of cold air to slow my heartbeat. "Get it together," I remember telling myself. I wasn't going to let him beat me. I was in a bad situation. But even bad situations can have favorable outcomes.

First things first, I did a situational assessment.

I was wearing a cheap pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt and no undergarments. They must had changed me when I passed out from the injection. I pushed myself to a standing position. Pacing the perimeter and holding my hand overhead to gauge the ceiling height, I was probably in a six by six concrete cube. Barely enough room to stand up straight. I wondered where I was. My guess was the car ride was no more than a half hour, which meant I was probably still in Cincinnati proper, though I had no idea what direction we went. I almost kicked over a bucket in the corner, which served as a crude toilet.

I could hear the low hum of a ventilation fan and an occasional throaty bark from a large dog. Other than that, there was nothing to stimulate my senses. I felt hungry. I didn't know how long I was in there. I relieved myself in the bucket. I sat on the mattress and started crying. Why was I being punished for what Max did?

I sat in darkness for what seemed like an eternity. An overhead lightbulb suddenly turned on giving off a blinding light. I shielded my eyes. After being in virtual blackness, the light from a single bulb startled me. Sergei came in. He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks. The ceiling was so low that he had to hunch forward to get into my cell. He had two fast food cheeseburgers, cold French fries and a Diet Coke in a white paper bag. He handed the bag to me. I wolfed down the food and finished the soft drink, even chewing on the ice that was sitting on the bottom of the cup. It all tasted wonderful. I licked the cheese off the wrapper.

I could sense that he was watching me while I was eating. I had no sense of privacy so I made no effort to hide myself. I figured I was already dead.

When I finished the food Sergei laid the needle, spoon, lighter, bottle of water, balloon of heroin and the rubber tubing on the mattress. He rolled up his sleeve and showed me the needle tracks on his arm. He wanted me to know in some warped way we were kindred spirits.

"You try now," he told me.

I remembered what he did. I cooked the mixture in the spoon until it was liquefied and then drew it into the syringe. I pulled the rubber tubing tight with my teeth and flicked my vein until it bulged out. I held my breath and pushed the needle inside. I felt a small prick. Then ascending into the bright light. Letting go. All of the noise stopped and there was peace.

I slumped against the wall, hugging my knees, and forgetting I was in Hell. I didn't know where Sergei was and didn't care. I didn't care about anyone or anything.

I woke up dreaming that I was trapped in a prison cell. Then I realized I was laying in a puddle of drool and could smell the pungent odor of my own piss. I wondered what it would be like to be dead. Anything was better than this.

The light blazed overhead and Sergei ducked into the small doorway. He was holding a tray. I scolded myself for looking forward to it. He had a warm cheeseburger and my next fix.

"You can have one or the other Lehka. You choose."

I hated myself and am not proud of what I did. Never again would I accuse Max of being weak. It's a compulsion. An irresistible one. Choose the dark or choose the light. It was an easy choice for me.

I chose the needle.

"Good choice," he said, nodding. He watched me already with practiced skill administer the shot to myself. I still glared at him but he knew inside that he owned me. The light went off.

I shut my eyes tight on my express train away from Hell. I wanted to remember that feeling. Suddenly the room wasn't dark and cold. I could hear music. Maybe it was coming from upstairs. Maybe it was playing in my mind. The needle took me to a special place... a place where I didn't give a fuck about anyone else.

I had resigned myself to losing. I wanted to but had no more will to resist. It's something I never want to feel again. A dead person inside a living person. I still ask myself if I had any choice at all.

I don't remember how long it was, but it was some time before I came down and the first thing I thought about was Sergei. He would ease my pain. The pain I'd been carrying my entire life. I had a better understanding of Max. She went through the same angst I was going through. I just didn't dull the pain... until now. Being relieved of this fearsome burden, even for a few hours, was a Faustian bargain made by many. It was joy to be relieved of the pain, but I knew better than most there was a price to be extracted on the other side.

As if on cue, the light turned on and the door opened, with Sergei coming in with a tray. There were no cheeseburgers. Just the drugs. I looked up from my mattress to the tray hovering over my head.

"For you Lehka, but you must ask for it."

It was a small price to pay. My asking for it. But it showed I was willing to do something for it. A piece of my pride. Soon I would have none.

"Please sir," I asked him.

"My name is Sergei."

"Please Sergei."

It came all too easily.

Falling.

Falling into darkness.

* * *

I had a gnawing hunger. Sergei would know what I felt. He brought in takeout Chinese food. Mongolian beef. Egg rolls. Pot stickers. I was ravenous. It was delicious and gone. I licked the grease off my fingers.

He held up a mirror so I could see myself. My hair was matted together. My eyes look hollowed. I was afraid of what I was looking at.

"This is you Lehka. You are a whore. You belong to me."

The words meant nothing to me. With my hunger satiated I wanted to know when he was going to bring the needle. He could read my eyes.

"You want it again, don't you whore? You ask for it as my whore and I will give it to you."

It was just me and him. There was no one there to judge me.

"Please give it to me Sergei."

He looked at me disapprovingly. "You can do much better than that What do you want?"

"The drugs."

"What kind of drugs? You want me to give you heroin?

"Yes."

"And you are my whore?

"Yes."

"Then say it."

"I want to you to give me the heroin. I want to be your whore."

Another large chunk of my pride swallowed.

Max, where were you?

Chapter Three

Max Starts the Search

I was disappointed that the meetings were a bust and that we lost a day. We didn't learn anything about Shevchenko that we didn't know already. We got in Lanny's car and were making good time going back to Cincinnati. My phone rang in the late afternoon.

"Lehka and Emil are missing," Captain Sheehan said to me on a bad cell phone connection.

"What?" I didn't want to believe what I just heard.

"Emil failed to report in when he dropped her off. We found the squad car in her parking garage. The kidnappers disabled the security cameras so we didn't get a look at them."

"When?"

"Best we can tell, late afternoon."

There wasn't much else to say. It's all she knew, which was damn little. My hand holding the phone was shaking after the conversation was done. Lanny was driving the speed limit on the freeway but listening to my side of the call, knowing it was bad news.

"What's up Max?"

"Lehka and Emil are missing."

"What?"

"Best Cap could tell, they went missing late this afternoon. The squad car was found in her parking garage. My guess is Shevchenko's guys were lying in wait for them. Savvy buggers. They knocked out the CCTV when they arrived."

"That's it?"

"That's all she knew."

"Fuck."

Lanny did have a gift for words. That about summed it the situation.

Our GPS told us we were about an hour out from Cincinnati.

"Step on it partner. Straight to the station."

Lanny hit the accelerator. Electric cars can really go, but nothing short of a supersonic jet was going to be fast enough.

Chapter Four

Lehka's Story

Katya

"Don't touch me," I told Sergei. "I can get up myself."

He pulled back his big paw. I struggled to my feet. I'm not sure how long it had been since I was thrown down in this dungeon, but my legs felt weak from a lack of exercise. My uniform was long ago discarded in favor of loose fitting sweats. My hair was a greasy tangle. I hadn't showered. I didn't care about my disgusting smell. I didn't care about anything.

Sergei dragged me up the stairs. Shevchenko was sitting in his usual spot at the table but there was a new presence, a pure white long haired dog, tall and lean (a Borzoi I learned later), the dog I heard barking in my cell.

"You see my Katya," the mobster said to me, pointing to his dog. He scratched her behind the ears.

"Why am I here?" I asked him.

"So impatient, you like what I give you?"

"You mean the drugs?"

"Of course."

"I hate them."

He placed the needle on the table, along with the other paraphernalia.

"Then you won't want these."

I looked at them like a long lost lover. He smiled.

"We'll have Sergei take you back to your room. I'll take these with me."

The craving was too powerful.

"Please."

"Please what?" he asked.

He was going to make me say it. For his perverted pleasure.

"The drugs. I want them."

"So you like them?"

"Yes."

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

He pushed it all in my direction. I gathered it in my hands.

The dog came over and sniffed me, then sat at my feet. I petted her head.

"Katya likes you."

"We finally found something I can agree with you on. I like her too."

Then I thought to ask about my future, as bleak as it appeared.

"Are you going to kill me?"

He cocked his head and laughed. "Now would that be a proper way to treat an honored guest?"

"You have no soul."

"Ah, only a soulless person would get you addicted to drugs and then send you away to become a prostitute. Only a soulless person would gain great pleasure from sharing pictures of you with your lover Max as a whore fucking an endless procession of men."

He showed me the left side of his face and lifted off his eye patch, showing me a hollow space where his eye once was.

"But then, does a man who looks like this have a soul?"

I tried to look away.

"Look at me! Your lover's partner did this to me. He banished me to a life in the shadows. All I have left is to seek revenge. What kind of life can I have as a monster? You Lehka are my revenge. It would be too easy to kill Max and his moronic partner. But to see you suffer, and for Max and Lanny to be unable to help, that is the revenge I seek. Is not revenge best served cold my sweet Lehka?"

What a twisted human being. He was shot because he was trying to kill a helpless mother. He obviously had no soul before his tragic misfortune. The shooting only made it worse.

"It is also said that when you seek revenge, dig two graves," I retorted.

"Lehka, I am already a dead man walking. I welcome death."

"Who am I to deny what you seek?" I answered.

He laughed again. "Soon enough. I expect Max to kill me. But not before you are away from here, my whore. Your absence will torment Max even after I'm dead."

"Enough of this idle banter," he said dismissively, and then motioning to Sergei. "Take her back to her cell and let her wallow in her addiction."

Shevchenko's hired muscle pulled me away with me clutching my precious drugs. Katya wagged her tail and barked.

I went back to my little cell, and eagerly, with the help of my new friend, to sink into the blackness of an endless void where I couldn't feel anything.

* * *

I could hear Katya's deep throated bark reverberate in my cell from somewhere outside. Sergei left me alone with the syringe. I didn't have to be forced or coerced. I wanted to escape this living purgatory. I heated the mixture and injected it into my vein, welcoming the blissful warmth in my squalid existence.

I drifted in and out of consciousness. I had happier times and happier thoughts in my mind. I thought about my mother's cooking, and the rich smell of her curries in her kitchen. My father, and his stoic manner. And of course Max, the love of my life. Would I ever see Max again?

I laid back on my mattress and let my hands fall back over my head.

Max, where are you?

Chapter Five

The Hunt

First stop was Syd's. Somehow, some way I knew he was involved or knew something.

It was early afternoon. His bar had just opened. There were a few regulars there but no one else to speak of. I went in by myself. Lanny waited outside. I didn't want him to bear witness to what I was going to do.

The little runt was behind the bar when he spotted me. He saw me moving towards him. The expression on my face told him this wasn't a friendly social call. He hurled the glass he was holding towards me. I ducked and the tumbler shattered against the wall behind me. He started to run for the back exit, but I anticipated that move and grabbed him by the collar. His momentum took his feet out from under him and he fell flat on his back. I stepped on his chest and pinned him to the ground.

"Got something to tell me shitbird?" I said, looking down at his sorry ass.

"Honest Max, it wasn't me," he swore. I hadn't even told him what I was accusing him of. That was the denial of a guilty person.

"Oh but it was Syd. Both Rodriguez and Lehka are missing."

His eyes widened. "I didn't know...," he protested.

I stepped harder on his chest so his eyeballs were popping out of his forehead.

"Give me a useful piece of information or I'm going to reach down into your mouth and rip your heart out of your chest."

I had every intention of fulfilling my promise. I think he knew it as well.

"He's got a new right hand man. From Detroit. I heard him call him Sergei. Big man. Jagged scar on his chin. That's all I know... honest." I'm sure he was ready to soil his pants.

I gave him a "remember me" kick to his side, hearing him expel his breath and part of his lunch.

"I'm coming back for you if I don't get my honey back."

* * *

"What happened in there Max?" Lanny asked me standing in the bright sunlight, leaning against the front wall of the bar.

"I gave him a memory refresher course."

"So what did he remember?"

"Shevchenko has a new second in command, a guy named Sergei, big guy with a scar on his chin."

"That's it?"

"I think that's all he has."

"It's not much."

"It's more than we had."

I passed on the scrap of information to Maddy Barnes in hopes it might help her search.

* * *

We were cruising the West End, Lanny and me, going about five miles an hour down the street not far from where Syd's bar was located. It was mid-afternoon and there was starting to be action for the dinnertime rush for drugs. I was hanging out the open window on the passenger side. I spotted Lester, and signaled to Lanny to pull alongside him as he was walking.

Lester turned his head and saw me. "Fuck you Max."

"That's an interesting greeting."

"I've got nothing to say to you." He kept walking and stepped around a homeless man who was sleeping on the sidewalk.

Lanny slowed the car more. "So we found the owner of the watch. Turn's out Jess was a girl so I guess you're not suspiciously gay."

Lester started to speed up. Lanny matched him.

"Eric wants to press charges," I shouted between parked cars.

"Who's Eric?"

He stopped and Lanny stopped. He stood about five feet from me on the sidewalk in front of a boarded up convenience store.

"Eric is the guy you knocked down to steal his watch."

"Fuck you. I didn't take his fucking watch. And how the fuck did you find him?"

Lester was nervous and looking shaky, like he was overdue for his fix.

"Easier than you think. We traced him through the serial number on the watch. Eric came into the station and recognized you from a photo line-up. Anyway, Eric wants to press charges."