Out of the corner of her eyes she could see men in dark coats, surrounding her, drawing a tight circle around her.
'Mr Gonzales wants to see you,' the man said with his lips tugged into a sly smile.
Her hands hung awkwardly by her side. She didn't know what to do or where to go. Stray strands of her hair tickled her face as she stared defiantly back at her would-be captor, her eyes burning with rage.
Her knife would be useless in such a situation. Why hadn't she thought of bringing one of Leon's guns with her? Where was Val?
She cast a glance to the side. Run and die? Or go with them and die?
In a split second, she had brought her blade to press against his jugular.
She didn't know the man's name. He remained unfazed.
'Tell Mr Gonzales,' she spat, 'that I have a plane to catch.'
Juan's men, it seemed, could be as calm as he was. His arms remained by his side as he raised an immaculate brow.
'Mrs Federov,' he said, 'it would hurt less if you come with us without trouble.'
With a sudden jolt of boldness, she applied pressure onto the blade. A thin line of blood surfaced but he did not wince. Instead, he raised a hand to wave away the few guns that had been pulled out.
'Have you not looked around you?' he asked with a smile. 'Your husband's men can't get you.'
'I'll take my chances.'
'Chances?' he echoed before an ugly sneer replaced his surprised features. 'Then I think you should look up.'
With a frown creasing her brow, she slowly brought her face up, her eyes scanning the blocks of buildings across the road. What did he want her to see? Then her eyes widened and she let out a gasp. No way!
She shook her head over and over again.
'No, no, no,' she muttered under her breath, her tone desperate.
On the very top of the apartment block across the road, three men were standing in a huddle. No, not a huddle, for one was held back by a length of rope tied around his waist. Half his body was already over the edge.
'If you don't come with us,' he said, 'we will drop your friend over.'
'How can you?' she demanded. 'He isn't involved in this!'
They truly didn't care for human lives, did they? How could he mention murder so easily? There were plenty of pedestrians about, all seemingly oblivious to the fact that above their heads, someone was about to die. She increased her pressure on the blade and more blood trickled out. Could she do it? Her fingers trembled at the thought of killing this man.
'You can't do it, can you?' he intoned, voicing the thoughts in her head. 'It's not in your nature. You are just a little girl who came to New York to marry a mobster, so you should leave the killing to him. Besides, they will drop him if you kill any of us. You don't want him to die, do you?'
'You don't know me,' she snarled. How dare this man be so bold?
'We have eyes to see and ears to hear. He'll be a mess, your ex-boyfriend. Blood everywhere, broken bones, bits of brain, a smashed face.'
How could he say all those like they were just having an ordinary conversation?
'No. I won't go,' she said. She tried to make her voice as hard as steel, just like how Leon would do when he had to deal with difficult people.
He raised a hand.
A scream left her as more rope was released. His arms flailed and his feet scrabbled for leverage on the parapet, but he couldn't support himself and so he lurched over the edge, his hands flying to the parapet to catch a grip on something solid.
She couldn't bear to watch. A strong wind was tossing up her hair and her scarf, and she could only imagine that it would have been far worse up there.
'I don't think he can hang on anymore. And it's getting tiring for my men,' he observed.
Am I going? Or am I not? She crumbled within. How she wished Leon could be with her. He'd know what to do. He'd hold her and brush his lips on her forehead and whisper in that gentle way that everything would be fine. But nothing was fine. And he wasn't here.
Her lips formed the words and just as she spoke them, she felt she would collapse from exhaustion.
'I'll come with you as long as you don't harm him.'
'Very good.'
The man made a signal. Osuke was hauled up from over the edge and the trio disappeared from the roof. A few minutes later, they reappeared across the street and Osuke was bundled unceremoniously into a waiting car.
He turned to in expectant silence, one hand held out.
'Shall we?'
Hana stared at that outstretched hand and sidestepped it. She didn't need his assistance.
~
Leon had been brought, handcuffed, to a hospital for some scans and when he was declared free of concussions, broken bones and trauma, he was hauled back into a police vehicle and taken to a station. When the routine questioning was over, he had been left in the lockup without a word.
A policeman had popped by to stare at him and Leon was about to retort something sharp when he realised there was something familiar about that balding head and wire-rimmed spectacles.
Samuel Anderson was the name on his tag.
A slight smile crossed Leon's face as his gaze met that of the officer's.
'Fancy meeting you again,' he muttered without humour.
'And I hoped I'd never see you again,' was the officer's dry response. 'Well? How are you?'
Still the same easy-going air, Leon thought, but not so friendly that any criminal would bare all. He didn't know much about being involved with the police. In the grand scheme of things, Leon was still a small boss, not big enough to attract the sort of attention that they paid to men like his father.
'Fine,' he said as he leant forward, his palms pressed on the cold metal of his bench.
'How old were you the last time we met? Fourteen?'
'Thirteen.'
Anderson grunted
'Yes, thirteen. I remember now.' Then he paused and tapped at the ring on his own finger. 'Married?'
He let out a chuckle, then gave the silver band around his finger a lingering glance. He hoped she was alright, wherever she was. He hoped she was safe, on a plane to Tokyo by now.
'Yes, I'm married.'
'I've seen your case file,' Anderson went on. 'Your case is likely to go to Court.'
'I know.'
'You'll be in prison for a long time, and it's not nice in there. A lot of people,' he said with a warning edge in his tone, 'a lot of people are in there to seek revenge. You'll be fresh meat to them.'
'I know,' he said again, a slight smile creasing his lips.
The hierarchy in Prison differed from that outside. Different bosses ruled behind the walls
Anderson let out a heavy sigh as his steely gaze met that of Leon's aloof one.
'Your lawyer's on the way. I think she came from Russia.'
He blinked, his brows heightened.
'You look surprised,' Anderson observed.
'Oh, no, it's just as I expected,' he muttered.
Anderson left him after that.
He lay on the metal bench with one arm across his face, blocking out the harsh lights from his eyes. The lock up was cold and small, with a toilet bowl and a sink in one corner. There were no windows, and so he could not tell how much time had passed. Time seemed to crawl in here, and he could only sleep in fits.
At least he knew where some of his men were. His entrance had been marked with yelling and pounding, there was no choice but to separate him from his men.
A harsh rapping on metal grilles startled him and he raised his arm to squint at the figure.
It was the policeman.
'Look sharp, kid,' he said gruffly. 'Your lawyer's here.'
He grunted in response, then swung his legs over the side and shook out his coat that he had been using as a makeshift pillow. He smoothed out his hair with a hand, then stretched his arms above his head.
His head perked up when he heard a familiar sound. The even tempo of a pair of heels outside the room was accompanied by the soft murmur of conversation. Her floral perfume preceded her, and his eyes rose expectantly when Vera finally made her entrance.
Her eyes glinted fiercely at him. Leon nearly cowered into his chair when he was ushered into his seat.
'Do you know how difficult it is to find a lawyer at the last minute?' was the first thing she said.
'Sorry,' he mumbled.
She let out a heavy exhale, her sharp gaze going down to his feet.
'Nice shoes.'
'Thanks,' he mumbled.
He glanced down appreciatively at his cherry red boots. He had bought it with Hana
'They've done a fingerprint test on the weapon and matched it with yours. That weapon was fired three times and although no one was severely injured, you did not have a license for it.' Her eyes flashed at him again in silent admonishment. 'You were also arrested with some high profile men, which the Police will use to prove your active involvement with the vory v zakone.'
'Ilya Berezin, Georgiy Yelchukov, Nikolay Ivazov,' she went on, 'they're all wanted by the Police. You can get at least five years.'
'Five!' he breathed.
'There will be more focus on those who are pegged as wanted men. But obviously, the Police know who you are, and you know how they feel about us.'
'To be honest,' Vera said quietly, 'you're an adult now, so they'll be harsher on you. It won't be like that last time. You get what I mean?'
He nodded his head mutely. His shoulders sagged with all the weight bearing down on them. He felt so alone all of a sudden. Five years. Others had been locked up for even longer, ten, twenty, thirty years, some even for live, but the thought of staying behind bars that long frightened him.
With an effort, he forced himself to think of the practical side of things. That was good. It gave him something to focus on without falling into a hole of never-ending thoughts.
'Has the hearing date been set?' he asked.
Vera made a face.
'Not yet. I heard the Court's booked up until March, but I'll try to get someone to help. The more urgent the case, the earlier the hearing, I guess.'
March! He couldn't wait until March!
'The more urgent?' he muttered glibly. 'Should I go and kill Anderson now?'
Vera grabbed her file and brought it down onto his head with a loud smack. He drew away with his face contorted in pain.
'Are you insane?!' she yelled.
A mirthless chuckle left him.
'Kidding. I'm not that crazy.'
She shook her head disapprovingly as she replaced the file onto the table.
'For now, you'll be sent to the Metropolitan Correctional Centre. Some of your men will be there with you, but you still have to be careful. And please be on your best behaviour. No fighting. Be nice. Five years is a long time and you don't want it extended.'
With one more sigh, she gathered her things and stuffed it into her handbag.
'Your men will get lawyers as well. All our people. And you'll be fine, alright? Otets says he'll help in any way that he can.'
'I know, but – ' he paused, spreading his palms face up.
'What is it?' Her stern features had softened into one of concern.
'Help me find out whether Hana is in Tokyo. She's supposed to have left already. And contact Val,' he added in a rush, rapidly changing into Russian, 'tell him to finish this.'
'No way!' she hissed, shaking her head disbelievingly at him. 'It will cause more trouble.'
'Then should we have another gang war when I'm out?' he returned. 'Just like the one that otets had? You know this isn't finished until one of us is gone!'
Those were the rules of the streets. As long as either him or Juan were alive, their men would fight.
'We can't afford another war,' she grumbled.
'Then help me, Verochka,' he pleaded.
'Damn you. I'll see what I can do.'
'You're my favourite sister,' he said, flashing her a smile.
'I'm your only sister,' she grumbled.
~
A/N: Remember to comment and vote!