His Little Killer

7

"Can you run the chip?" I asked Scott when he finally stumbled thorough the threshold of my room. I held it up in my fingers as he examined it.

"I'm sure I can." He held his hand out and I set the phone chip in his palm.

"Thank you. Also, do you think you can find anyone who can translate Cyrillic?" I asked hopefully.

Scott thought for a moment before shaking his head yes. "I think I have someone."

"Perfect." I smiled, showing my white teeth. I sat down in my swivel chair.

Two hours later we had a Russian man sitting in the chair across from my desk, and a translated phone chip.

The Russian sitting in front of me struggled a bit, but a gun to the back of your head tends to settle a man down. Not me of course.

Never taking my eyes off the man, I held my hand out. Scott sat the papers and information about the man in Rico's office in my hand.

I flipped through the pages. Thank fuck these weren't in Cyrillic.

Genaro Cordova.

If the name gave any indication, he was Spanish. I shut the file and sat it aside on my desk. I leaned forward, narrowing my gaze to the Russian in front of me.

"What's your name?"

"Petya." He answered, his voice coated heavily in Russian.

"Petya, what?"

"Konkov. Petya Konkov."

"Well, Mr Konkov, you are going to translate this file and you are not going to complain, otherwise we'll find a new person to translate this, and your wife will need to find a new husband, are we clear?"

"You wont hurt Claire." He said and tried to stand up.

Lenny cocked his gun and pressed it more firmly against the back of his skull. I could see the fear was evident in his eyes.

"I wont hurt her, unless you don't cooperate with us. I'll not only hurt her heart, but maybe her legs as well. A crow bar to the shins seems plausible." I raised a brow, challenging him.

His words froze in his throat as he took a seat again. Petya nodded. I handed him the file and he started to flip through it. His eyes widened as he read. I'm assuming he began to read the parts that weren't for the innocent eyes.

"What the hell is this?" He lifted his terrified eyes to mine.

"What does it say?" I asked, ignoring his question. "Read it all to me."

"This man, Gustavo, he has killed many men before." I could see Petya begin to shake in his seat.

"Continue," I urged.

"He was last spotted in Miami a week ago. There is a picture of him talking with a man. Is this man in trouble?"

"Let me see the picture." I ripped the file out of his hands. I couldn't see Gustavo's face. I saw a picture of the back of a giant, muscular man talking with another. The other being a familiar asshole.

Alejandro

I handed the file back to Petya. "What else does it say?"

"It goes on to talk about some meet ups and where the man had been seen. La Máscara. I'm sorry, but I don't know Spanish, miss."

"Is that it?"

"Pretty much." The man bit his lip and handed the file back to me. I smiled at him and stood to my feet. He trembled under my dark gaze.