Page 74 of Till Death Do Us Part
Diego cranked the air conditioning. “Two hours of this and I may throw up.”
I cracked the window at my side. The chopped Russians were already beginning to stink. “We need a refrigeration unit at the hideout. Something big enough to keep bodies on ice, because fuck this shit. They reek.”
“Watch your driving,” Rei said to Diego. “If we get pulled over, we’ll need to add the cop to the totes. There’s no way he won’t smell this.”
Once the windows were open and the air conditioning running full blast, the four of us went to work on what Rei had been able to learn about the six-bedroom mansion, the grounds, and the roads leading in and out of there. Waiting until after dark would be safer and easier. Then again, sending a message in the light of day was brazen and would show the cartel’s strength.
Rei studied aerial views of the mansion. “The house is officially listed as belonging to a trust. Kozlov’s name is nowhere on the records.”
“My name isn’t on the house I just bought either.”
The property that these same bits of bratva may have broken into last night.
Rei nodded, his thoughts focused on the task at hand. “Looks like the property is just over two acres. Our best bet is to go through their neighbor’s property. There is a steep grade for the illusion of their infinity pool. The front and back of the house is all fucking windows, but if we stay below the downgrade, we probably won’t be seen.”
“Probably?”
“Most likely,” Rei replied.
I wasn’t thrilled with his qualifiers. We needed a cover. “Who could be on the grounds without being questioned?”
“Jardineros,” Felipe said.
“Genius,” I said. “We’ll dress as gardeners. No one will think twice about our presence.”
The gardening crew who we borrowed a truck from would most likely wake within an hour or two. If things went as planned, they’d even have their truck back by the time they woke. The four of us donned the crew’s long-sleeved shirts with the same name as on the side of the truck, large sun hats, sunglasses, bandanas to cover our lower faces, and latex gloves. My arm protested, my bandage turning red as we moved the heavy totes from the van to the trailer, stacking them inconspicuously near the lawn mowers and other lawn equipment.
Diego drove the van to a grocery store parking lot. After picking him up, Felipe drove the lawn service truck while Rei and I crammed into the back seat.
I wondered if the people living downhill from Ivan Kozlov’s property knew they were neighbors with a bratva boss. It wasn’t like we were going to chat with them to find out. As we pulled the truck and trailer up near the neighbor’s house, no one questioned our presence.
Rei and I ran reconnaissance up to Kozlov’s property line. We didn’t see any guards, but there were probably cameras. We’d have to work fast. The first feat was carrying the damn totes over half an acre uphill. I claimed the wheelbarrow for myself.
Wearing surgical gloves, we emptied the totes along the western border of Kozlov’s land. Jobs like this ate away at one’s humanity. There should be remorse for the lives lost, but I didn’t feel it. Mostly, I was hot, sweaty, and disgusted. In short, I wanted to be done. The rotting stench of flesh and the copper tinge of blood was a magnet, drawing insects, birds, and other predators. It would be like putting together a gruesome puzzle, but there were enough fingers and teeth to confirm identification if the bratva wanted to go the extra mile.
The four of us made it back down the hill before setting off any alarms.
We returned the landscaping truck, trailer, and uniforms to the crew before they woke. I imagined them waking from theirsiestaand wondering what the fuck happened to their clothes and having no realization of their role in our long-ass day. They should be thankful. It could have gone worse for them.
It was late afternoon before we arrived back at the hideout to deliver the van and now-empty totes. My skin itched, feeling tight as if it had shrunk throughout the day. An inescapable darkness lurked below my consciousness, one that showed its ugly head with so much death.
Em and Nick took over the cleanup. Our next stop was Wanderland.
“Danill told the truth,” I said to Nicolas.
“What do I do with him?” he asked.
“He’s seen too much. Kill him.” I thought about his wife. “Dispose of the body with acid. The bratva doesn’t need to know he isn’t part of the puzzle we left.”
Nicolas’s nostrils flared as he nodded. “You look worn out.”
“Not worn out, fucking itching with energy and not the good kind.”
He slapped me on the shoulder. “How about you spend some time with one of our whores, you know, blow off some steam?”
While I didn’t give him a verbal response, I was confident my expression let him know I wasn’t interested. Truth was that I wanted to blow off steam, but it wouldn’t be with one of the whores from Wanderland. If I were honest with myself, it would be with my own hand in the shower. I fucking needed to be disinfected before touching my wife. As we stepped back into the sunshine, my phone rang.
“Fuck,” I mumbled.