The Baker And The Queen Pin

Chapter 51: The Beginning of a Problem

~~~Booker

I was distracted, I should've stayed focused on the road I should've seen this coming. Or maybe I was supposed to be stopped, and it was intentional. All of this was plausible karma, Maria didn't want me to know about something and I had to figure out why. I had to figure out what she didn't want me to know.

It's then that the guy says, 'You're going to fix this car? You know how much it costs to get this shit?' "Listen, sir, you know why. Just let me get to your boss, Maria." 'My boss?' He says, annoyed. 'You think I care about you talking to my boss, you mook?' His thick New York accent was covering up something. He sounded almost Russian.

'What I want to know is what gives you the right to hit me like that, you mook.' "We don't have time for this." I get back in my car and he steps right in front of it. As I slowly begin to back up, he runs behind it. 'Hey. Where are you going? It's my car!' It's then that he says in a thick Russian accent, 'I don't want to hurt you, Mr. Booker but you're not leaving me many options, sir. You're only going to hurt yourself if you get too much more involved. I don't want to hurt you, just stay here.'

"You don't want to hurt me?" I chuckle as I say, "I didn't want to hurt you." I get out of the car as he begins to try and throw a sucker punch. I dodge to the left and I give him a right-handed uppercut. As he slumps back into the car, I catch him as he's dazed, I look around and make sure no one saw. I get in the car and pull off, praying that I can catch up with them. "Maria, what are you doing?"

~~~Maria

It's then that I get a text message, 'I lost him. Old bastard throws a mean right hook.' I chuckle as I think that's my Booker but I'm sure we got further away. He had to have been stalling for at least five minutes, I had to hurry. As I made my way to the apartment building, I knew today was going to be different, I knew today was going to be the day everything comes to light. No matter how much I want to hide it. There's a chance everything will play out exactly how it is supposed to. Maybe he won't make it in time, maybe everything will be fine, but that's just a maybe.

The truth is that I have innocent blood on my hands, I have so much of it. Would it be worth walking away from? Would this life be worth walking away from? Am I worth more than I believe? Then I hear my father's voice in the back of my head, 'My dear, you're never going to be happy. Simply because you're my daughter.'

As I think about his perverted tongue whispering in my ear, I then think about Booker. 'No one can tell you how much you're worth, my love. The only person who can dictate your worth is you.' As I think about all of the times we've been intimate, all the times he's caressed my body, all the times he's held me, I begin to enter the building with my gun drawn, my men at my side.

The first thing I see is that there are two men at the helpdesk, not the usual woman who sits there. It's then that Gregor brandishes his gun and gets behind the counter. "Where are they?" I ask, looking the man in his eyes, not ready to play games. 'You were told to come alone.' "I was told to do a lot of things but if one hair or even a molecule is harmed in that family, I'll enjoy feeding you to the pigs." 'They're on the fourth floor, third room.' I hear another man say.

We emptied the building on notice of a gas leak. "Good boy," I say with a smile. 'Why?' He says. 'Look at her eyes.' He says with tears streaming down his face. 'She came here, willing to kill everyone if she had to.' "You're a smart man. Gregor, blow the other's brains out." 'Wait wait wait, that's my best friend. If you shoot him, you'll alert everyone.'

"Fine. Officer O'Brian take him off the premise. Do what you will." It's then that O'Brian had them both in cuffs but it was then that there was a call. It was from a blocked number, it had to be Volkov. I put my gun to his friend's temple as I answer the phone and place it towards the other's mouth. 'Is everything all clear?' 'Yes sir. No one's come in or out.' 'Good. I'll be calling that bitch shortly. If she's not here within ten minutes, blow the children's brains out.' 'Yes sir, it will be done.' He says, calmly.

My eyes focused as it was time for us to start clearing the building but before I could find myself getting started, I turned around and asked, "How many men do you have in the building?" 'You expect us to sell out our comrades, too?' 'Swanson, why are you trying to get us killed?' His friend asked. 'Why are you a stifling traitor?' And then I found myself, getting annoyed. With one bullet, I blew his brains out all over his friend. "You seem to be aware of your situation but I don't have time for you either. How many fucking men are in the building?"

Sitting in shock as he watched his friend die, he said 'Nine.' "You can't expect me to believe that, can you?" It's then that he said, 'No. There are 20 including me and him. Thank you for sparing me, I didn't think he'd get himself killed like that' "I didn't plan on wasting my time until I saw his intentions. He was going to snitch on you. The second he got clear, he was going to call Volkov. He never intended on letting us go by peacefully."

It's then that he looked at me with anger in his eyes as he said, 'How did you know?' I smile as I say, "You never trust someone who has a conscious. What's your name?" Then, he says, 'My name is John Swanson.' "Nice to meet you." I say with a smile, "O'Brian, knock him out."

With one swift hit to the back of his head, he was out like a light and we were on our way. The things I do for love, I think to myself. The things I do for him. As I think about him all the way around, I realize the truth. I knew exactly what I was doing. There were five people on each floor and each one had been taken care of. To my 8 men, we were drastically outnumbered but we knew how to keep quiet.

As I begin to attach a silencer to my gun, I knew it wouldn't stop the noise nor would it stop everything else. It would stop anyone from upstairs from hearing it, that's given if the walls weren't a piece of shit. As we go upstairs, I see two men standing guard at the front and two men watching them and I don't see the last man. He must be in one of the houses, an ambush no doubt, or maybe a mole. 'We don't have time for this.' O'Brian says, 'Once the shooting starts, the cops will be here.' "Right so how about you create a distraction, O'Brian?" 'They know who I am.' He says, flatly.

'You think you're the only person I help cover up murders for?' The thought alone made me wonder. I knew something was up then, I knew there was more than meets the eye. "Alright, we'll ambush him." It was then that we climbed the stairs to get started and it was then that the security alarm activated. The door downstairs was breached, and a call flashed across the phone.

"God damn it." I let it ring and go straight to voicemail. I knew who it was and Booker had not called me yet. As we began to slowly make our way downstairs, it was then that somebody randomly came out of the door. 'The boss wants you to check to see what's going on.' and the voice, I knew that voice all too well. I knew that voice more than I should have. It was Damien, the stifling traitor, or was he?

'Why don't you go check?' I hear him say. 'Why? Because I'm still a head member of the High Table and you're all a bunch of lackeys.' Why did he sound so formal? Was this his American accent or was I insane? As two men begin to come down, we had already been waiting in the waiting room and some of us had hidden behind couches or waited outside. We left the man's body to be discovered and then I realized something. There was another entrance into the building, the side entrance.

'Go check on the computer before he comes out.' This all happened so quickly and the two men who came down were surprised to see me. Then with a smile, I said, 'Good evening gentleman." 'He's-' Before he could arm his gun, Gregor punched the first guy so hard, it pushed the other guy back. "We need to hurry."

End of Chapter 51: The Beginning of a Problem