Crack of dawn. A chirp from her phone. A certain email is in her inbox.
The return address is a burner. So is the ping on the IP address.
Marina doesn’t need either. She knows it comes from her hammer.
The email’s body has nothing but a link. She clicks on it. It takes her to a dark website. Last time she checked, the servers were in Azerbaijan.
There are pictures: nails on both fingers and toes are pulled out; cigarette-butt burns on the genitals, the nipples, the anus; a calf flayed. The man’s face cut and bruised from constant pistol-whipping.
There are two more pictures. A dead man, a dead woman, two bullet holes in each forehead. Collateral damage, but a more persuasive argument. Unlike them, the target’s alive. At twenty-three, he’s got his whole life ahead of him. He’ll have to grow some nails and get skin grafts first.
Marina clicks.
The site generates another burner return and IP address ping. She forwards the link to Itzik Siegel, the target’s brother.
Siegel’s a union boss. A recalcitrant, rebellious, pig-headed union boss for the dockworkers. He’s new on the job. He doesn’t know what’s what.
This’ll teach him.
Marina expects work on her shipments and her share of the membership dues to resume their old pace no later than today.
Jasmine should get a bonus from this, maybe some points out of the dock operation.