Lightning flashed, illuminating the bedroom.
The bed was a four poster bed, angels on the posts. The carvings on the headboard and footboard were ornate, baroque, and lavish. Inlaid with gold.
The comforter was at my feet and I stood and stared as the lightning faded and thunder made the windows rattle.
Blood dripped from my hands, from the soaked through sleeves of my flannel shirt. The brass knuckles on each hand were clotted with blood and gore, the knife sheathed, the pistol loaded and in the holster at the small of my back.
I stood in the darkness, listening to them breathe.
He had a name. The Russian rat had written it down along with the address.
I didn't care.
His wife lay next to him. Fat. Dripping with jewels even in her sleep. Jewels that had been draped on her while they were still warm from the body heat of their original owners. Her face was cruel even in sleep.
She not only knew what her husband did, she didn't care.
She would.
I moved around the side of the bed as the lightning flashed again.
My mouth was full of the taste of iron and copper. The lizard was busy jumping up and down on a brushed steel plate, trying to force down a creature made up of black goo and mouths that gibbered and screamed in rage.
Thunder rumbled the room less than five seconds later.
The storm was still hammering Olympia/Lacey/Tumwater.
The manor was in Lacey, in the richer section, where new money squatted near the Capitol building to try to influence laws, grease the right palms, to prevent any repercussions for the deeds done in darkness and blood.
The cops were paid off. I knew that.
But I wasn't the cops.
Lightning flashed and I drove a fist into the man's crotch, the heavy brass knuckles crushing flesh.
He sat up, vomiting, and I hit him in the chest hard enough I felt a rib go.
He flopped back down as I climbed on top of him, driving my ass into his gut.
His wife sat up, opening her mouth.
I punched her straight in the triangle of death. Right between the eyes with a right hand line drive.
Bone crunched. One of her eyes bulged out of the socket. She collapsed, pissed the bed, and writhed.
I held the guy's head with one hand, forcing him to watch.
I hit her again, bone crunching again.
She shit the bed and went still.
"She knew how you made your money," I said conversationally.
The guy groaned, staring at me with a combination of fear and hatred.
"I'm here to kill you," I told him. I dug out my pack of cigarettes and lit one, closing my eye till I snapped the lighter shut. I took a drag and looked at him as I tucked away the smokes and the Zippo.
"You're a dead..." he started.
I punched him in the teeth. The brass metal wrapped around my fist shattered enamel, blood and teeth choked him.
"How long it takes depends on you," I told him, taking a deep drag and exhaling smoke.
"My guards..." he started.
I punched him twice in the ribs on his left side, driving my right fist into his rib cage as hard as I could.
Bone snapped and he coughed wetly.
"Already dead," I told him. I took another drag then looked down at him, tapping the ashes on his face. "I'm not the cops."
"The CIA..." he started, the coughed, blood bubbling up on his lips.
I'd punctured his lung at least once.
"Are a bunch of dog fucking, nun raping, child killing traitors," I told him. I shrugged. "Yes, yes, you're former KGB. Lots of contacts. Probably know that midget half-wit Putin," I said. I leaned forward. "If I'd known who he was, I'd have thrown him out the window in Dresdin when we caught him burning KGB records," I smiled. I held up the brass knuckles. "I drove these into his gut. Of course, he said a different name, but I recognized the little weasel the first time I saw him on TV during a report on that burning garbage pile of a country."
"What do you..." he started.
I smacked him in the mouth, the metal ripping up his lips.
"I want a watch, a billfold, a necklace, and a stereo," I said. I took another drag then tapped ashes in his face again. "A few days ago. One of Hollister's retarded fucking junkies brought them in, you bought them."
I could see the terrified realization in his eyes.
"You know where they are," I said.
"Don't," he gasped. "Have. Them."
"Doesn't matter. I'm going to kill you either way," I said. I shrugged. "I'm good at killing you slavic potato hoarding garbage goblins."
"My... wife..." he gasped. The blood on his lips was bright red.
I punched him in the ribs again, feeling them crunch.
"Your people threatened my family," I told him. I leaned forward. "You took me with my daughter present. Your shitty little fucking junkies were going to rape my five year old daughter," I snarled. "I don't care about your family."
I leaned back and squeezed his chest with my thighs.
He coughed up blood.
"You set the rules of engagement," I told him.
Then punched him in the sternum before getting up.
"She knew where your money was coming from. She knew where those pretty jewels, that antique jewelry was coming from," I told him.
I grabbed him by the hair and dragged him off the bed.
He cried out when he hit the floor, so I put my boot into his stomach.
It left a blood smear on his white cotton pajama top.
"Lay down with dogs, get up with fleas," I told him. I bent down and grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the private office.
There were two dead men in the hallway, both on their backs and staring up at the ceiling.
One had a stabbed out eye, the other had multiple stab wounds in his chest.
A third was four paces down.
I knew he was dead from a single stab to the back, angled up, that had sliced his heart apart.
"Your son is grown," I said, dragging him down the hallway.
The lizard hissed, trying to get my anger under control.
But I had the bit in my teeth.
"So he'll understand why I'm killing him too," I said.
One kick into the middle of the wooden door split it down the middle and sent the two halves into the room.
I dragged him in, around the desk, and threw him in the chair.
He bent over coughing and I grabbed his hair, pulling his head up.
"You'll tell me and give me what I want," I told him.
He shook his head.
I punched him in the sternum again.
This time something snapped.
"Or I'll take away your breath and watch you suffocate," I told him.
He sat up, reaching under the edge of the desk.
I heard a faint click.
"I disabled that and your other alarms," I told him. I sat on the desk, looking at him. "I've had over an hour to walk around your little house," I smiled. I reached out and patted his head, the brass rings around my fingers clonking on his skull.
"Write down today's password for your family," I told him.
He shook his head.
I slapped him then pushed his head against the back of the ornate chair.
"Write it down or I'll just go to their homes and butcher everyone inside," I snarled.
He dropped the pen twice but wrote it down.
"If it's wrong, your grandchildren will be dead by morning," I warned him.
"It's real," he gasped, the coughed up blood. "Please..."
"I'm not an animal," I told him, shoving him back against his padded luxury chair. "So I won't rape your daughter like your animals threatened my daughters and my wife with."
He looked relieved for a second.
"I'm just going to go to Evergreen College and kill her in her dorm room," I said.
His face paled.
"The men's jewelry, the billfold, the car stereo, the watch," I said. I tapped the brass knuckles on my left hand against the polished mahogany of the antique desk. "Tell me."
"Son," he said.
"Has the watch. The Rolex," I guessed. He shook his head. "The wallet."
He nodded.
"Addresses for everything else. Give them to me."
He groaned, reaching forward and going through a Rolodex. He pulled out four cards, dropping the first two on the desk. The third he handed to me.
The fourth he dropped on the floor.
I smiled at him.
"Your daughter has a car," I said.
He nodded, still gasping.
"The stereo is in her car, isn't it?" I asked.
He nodded.
I smiled.
He glanced down at the card.
I punched him in the chest again, to my left of his sternum, feeling the rib break at the sternum root.
He pushed back in the chair, grabbing his chest. His face had gone purple and he was gasping, gagging on the blood in his mouth, his eyes bulging out and his nose running with snot.
I bent down and picked up the card, then punched him in the other side of the chest.
"Think I'm fucking stupid, Ivan?" I asked as he writhed in the chair. "Think I'd bend down, you'd hit me with something, and you'd survive, you vodka swilling garbage eating parasite?"
I grabbed his hand, lifting it up.
The ring was Navajo silver with a tiger's eye in the middle of it.
"You were dead as soon as I saw this," I said. "Biker's ring."
I let go of his hand, stepped back, wound up, and hit him with everything I had in the lower right of his chest.
His lower left.
Over his heart.
Bone shattered and he gasped, going rigid in the chair.
"My Father's ring," I snarled. I grabbed his hair and lifted my knee, driving his face into my knee with enough force it threw him back into the chair. I punched him twice in the face, the first one shattering his jaw, the second one destroying the orbital socket of his left eye.
"You're going to die," I told him, pulling him upright again. I pulled my fist back.
"Over five thousand dollars and a handful of jewelry," I told him. "You and your whole family is going to die."
The punch shattered his temple, driving bone splinters into his brain.
I dropped him.
Fuck him.
The lizard spun dials and clicked switches as I walked out.
The rage eased.
A little.
I had a stereo to collect.
* * * * *
More than a few serial killers had haunted Evergreen College. It was heavily wooded, isolated, with few lights. It was a co-ed campus, with isolated parking lots. The liberal students hated police, so they always wanted the campus security reduced or eliminated. They didn't want the Olympia or Thurston County cops or the State Patrol on campus.
Which is why it was a rich hunting ground for serial killers.
At any given time there are seven serial killers operating in Washington State.
The most infamous was the Green River Killer.
Who was still killing women.
Standing in the shadows, shrubs on either side of me, beneath the trees, I knew the girl would have been better off to have listened to that little voice of doubt I had heard when I had called her.
But, greed had overcome caution.
I had called her, spoken in Russian, told her the passcode, told her that her father had sent me with a package for her. She had asked me to look inside, I had refused, she'd thrown a little quiet tantrum, but I could tell she was moving when I told her I could hear metal clinking and guessed that there was jewelry in it and it was heavy.
I told her I'd meet her at her car and to come alone. Her father had been very clear that it was to be alone.
She was tall for a woman and probably considered good looking.
The lizard hated her on sight.
She crossed the parking lot, heading over to her car. She frowned, just for a second, when she saw it.
I'd put it in neutral and pushed it next to the trees.
She rushed across the parking lot, crossing her arms, a plastic raincoat covering a hastily pulled on Evergreen College sweatshirt. She was clutching her purse with one hand and had a cell phone in the other. She had on sweatpants and tennis shoes as she hurried through the dark and rain.
She stopped at the car and looked around.
I stepped out.
"Ahem," I said.
She turned and looked at me.
"Well?" she snapped. "There better be coke."
I moved forward, shrugging. "OK."
"Who are you? I don't recognize..." she started.
Three steps and I drove my knee into her gut, folding her over. Her breath blasted out and she grabbed onto me out of reflex. I kneed her twice more, pulling her over by her car. I pulled the door open with one hand, the light not coming on.
That had taken just a twist of the light switch.
"I pulled the radio," I said.
And slammed the door on her head twice.
I let her go and she collapsed on the ground, crying.
I knelt down.
"Your father is Russian mob," I said. "Let me guess, he'll kill me for this."
She nodded.
I lifted her head up, pulling her to her feet. She tried to scream but couldn't get her breath, her diaphragm savaged.
"You saw the stereo and wanted it. High end, top shelf, brand new," I said. "CD, digital, hot shit."
"Take it," she gasped.
"I already did," I said. I slammed the door on her head again. "The stereo was my father's."
I slammed the door again.
She was weeping.
"Your father's people put a bounty on my head. Took me with my daughter present," I said. I slammed the door on her head again.
"You knew what he does to pay your college tuition," I said.
I slammed again.
"You don't care."
I slammed again.
She was mostly out of it as I hauled her up by her hair, lifting her off her feet by my grip on her hair, holding her out with one arm.
"I'm killing you because they took me with my daughter present," I said.
She tried to shake her head. Her lips made the 'no' shape.
"You're dead because of five thousand dollars," I said.
I pushed her face against the edge of the door, her forehead pressed against the heated seat of her luxury car, wedged in the gap between the side of the door and the back of the seat, her chin against the metal strip on the floor.
"And a stereo."
I stomped between her shoulder blades, powering through it, taking her body flat onto the ground with enough force something snapped under my boot.
Her head flipped back like a Pez dispenser.
She convulsed once, her eyes looking up at me even though she was chest down.
I turned and walked away.
Three more cards.