“Come on, Roman… It is Roman, right? I heard you were here. I knew you were here. Come on… I'm good for it, I swear!”
He's already pissed his pants, I can smell it. I’m trying not to be angry that this entire experience could be disappointing. If it goes too fast, it won’t be right. I wish he would just shut up.
“You know Corwin always had it in for me… He lies… There's a whole safe in the back. You want to see it? You should see it! Let me show you, Roman. There’s gotta be something in there you would like… Maybe your new wife, huh? You don't even know! Let's make this go away!”
Instantly, I'm enraged that he thinks that he can bribe his way out of this. Sniveling fucking rat. I slam my fist down on top of one of the glass cases and it shatters. Instantly, an alarm begins to howl. Balki’s eyes go wide and his hands go up.
Alarm? A fucking alarm? Why didn’t I think of that?
As I reach for the scruff of his neck to keep him from darting into the back room, the door opens anyway and a guy comes out, just some guy. He is holding a piece on me, but doesn’t look entirely convinced. The Makarov jerks in his hand as his arms shake. He’s shit himself too, I can smell that. What the fuck, people.
“Gimme that,” I tell him. That is his only warning.
“Marco, no!” Balki shouts.
I hold out my hand so Marco can hand me the fucking gun. He's going to shoot me? Are you fucking kidding me?
And then he does. The gun twitches in his sweaty hand and I hear it go off, pop. Something flies by me, maybe hits me, but I don't really notice. Balki is chattering like a monkey even though I’ve got him by the scruff of the neck. I shake him once, hard, until he's quiet. Then I drop him to the floor, reaching out in one effortless motion to Marco to snatch that piece of metal out of his hand. And I don't want to end him, I really don't. For a second I think maybe I don't have to. Maybe there's something else that could be done. What would Marie say—
Oh my God, what am I thinking?
Pop, pop. That's it. You’re done. You can’t drop me, I'm the invisible man.
Marco goes over, folds at the waist and lands on his forehead first before his ass hits the ground with sort of a squishy noise. Christ, that's disgusting.
Balki starts mumbling, covering his ears because the alarm is still howling like a motherfucker. He rocks back and forth.
There, I wasn't supposed to kill Balki, and I didn't. I should get a fucking medal. Goddamnit why don’t you people just do what you’re supposed to do?
I’m thumbing my phone before I get back to the Jeep.
“All done?”
“There was a complication.”
“Isn’t there always?”
“Yeah, well…”
“Okay, I'll let Leon know to make arrangements for Balki.”
“No, not Balki. Somebody Marco. Balki is fine. Pissed himself and that's about it. And I broke some stuff.”
Alek pauses for a second. “Marco… Marco who?”
“I dunno. Old guy. Fat. One eye.”
“Not Marco Barakov?”
“The fuck do I know? All he said was Marco. Old country guy, came out with a piece and he shot me and… Fuck, he shot me.”
Sighing, I look down at the spreading red-black stain on my new jeans. Goddamnit. I just got these. And from the squelchy sound underneath, I'm leaving a great puddle in the driver seat too.
Just fucking great.
“Holy shit, Roman, that was Marco Barakov. The Biggie.”
“Oh...” I say as it all comes back to me. “He’s supposed to be dead.”
“Yeah, well…”
I shake my head, wanting to laugh. I may get a medal for this after all. Marco was supposed to be out of commission maybe ten years ago. I'd always heard that it was possible that he had made it out of Armenia, but that was just rumors. Looks like the rumors were true after all.
“I guess I found Balki’s other fence.”
“Holy shit, did you ever,” Alek says. “And he's... okay? He's done?”
“Done is done,” I confirm.
Clenching fiercely, my nuts nearly explode. There's been a kill on sight order on Marco's head for the last decade, just in case he really was still alive. Somebody up there must like me, because he couldn’t have been easier if he’d been giftwrapped.
Everybody is going to think I knew, though I had no idea. He didn't look the same. He lost his eye somewhere along the way and gained about a hundred fifty pounds or something. Which means Balki has been ignoring a direct order all this time. Sounds like I’m going to have to go have another conversation with him.
But not today. Fuck. My cock is so hard I’m afraid it's going to blow up.
“How far are you?”