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Snake stopped by his place and put his Suburban in his garage. He entered his house, sat at the kitchen table and took a couple of deep breaths. That had been close, as close as he’d ever been to getting caught. He looked up at the dirty, smudged fingerprints that stained the white cabinets yellowed with age. He couldn’t wait until this gig was over and he could escape to the Caribbean. He was gonna retire. No question. He’d had enough close calls lately and his luck was running out.
He needed a drink and got up, pulled out a bottle of cheap whiskey and poured a tumbler full of the brown liquid in a short, greasy glass. He sat for a few minutes and then moved into the living room and flipped on the TV to the seven o'clock news. The banner across the bottom of the TV set said, "RICHMOND’S BELLADONNA BOYS STRIKE AGAIN. He listened as the reporter talked about breaking news at a Shockoe Slip restaurant. Damned Boris. He was just a one-man show. He tossed down his whiskey, jumped in his ride and headed towards Boris’s lab. He was pissed. The SOB had struck without him... again.
He spotted the Russian’s car outside, hollered his name and waited for Boris to open the door.
Boris gave him a broad smirk, "Did ya hear the news?"
Snake nodded and said, "What the hell? I didn't know you were going to hit any other places until the big one. You should’ve told me. We're partners," he said stubbornly as he glared at Boris’s deformed head.
Boris shrugged his shoulders and said, "I was bored this afternoon. I drove downtown about three o'clock, picked a restaurant that had a few cars in the lot and spiced up their food."
Snake shook his head and said, "Dude, you're taking too many chances. The last thing we need is to get caught. You should've waited for me."
Boris jumped up from his bench and said, "Shut up. What do I need you for? You’ve no idea what I'm doing or what kind of poison I use."
Snake fought to keep his temper. "Man, use your head. I'm your backup, your muscle and your lookout. This is the second time in two days you’ve killed without me being around. What's up with that?" Snake stared at him defiantly.
Boris remained silent and transferred some fluid with an eyedropper.
Snake continued, “Whoever hired you is gonna kill us if you mess this up. The bosses are gonna get us. Whoever they are, man. Use you damned brain.”
Boris shrugged his shoulders. "I told you. I was bored. I mixed up another batch of the good stuff and I wanted to try it out before tomorrow and I just happened to pass by this restaurant and decided to test it."
Snake shook his head. “You ain’t listening, man. You’re going rogue on me and you’re gonna get both of us killed. I’m pissed about that. I like living.”
Boris glared at him but remained silent. He shifted his body position on his lab bench and Snake watched him carefully. Boris was tall and his arms and legs were long. He could grab Snake and put him in a chokehold in a couple of seconds.
Snake sat backwards in an old wooden chair and stared at the scarred wooden desk. He ran his fingers over the deep scratches and indentations in the wood. He counted to ten to hold his temper. He had to give it to Boris. The guy was a genius at poison and concocting death. He was also good at taking care of himself. Not what you'd expect from a guy who had a background in science. He took a deep breath and said, "Man, you've been so lucky. Suppose something bad had come down. Then where'd we be?"
Boris gave him a sly smile and said, "Well, it didn't. Everything went fine. I just want you to shut up so I can see how many people I killed," he whined as he gestured at the TV and turned the volume up.
Snake shook his head and looked at the TV screen. Again, the local news anchor interrupted with breaking news. He reported three people confirmed dead at Biddy McPherson's pub located on Shockoe Slip. The news anchor identified one victim was a Richmond police officer.
Snake jumped up and said, "Dude, you done kilt yourself a cop. How’d you manage that?" Snake's heart raced with excitement as he high-fived his tall Russian partner.
Boris smiled broadly, his sunken, bald head shiny under the fluorescent light. He looked at Snake, a wicked gleam in his eye and said, "Partner you ain't heard the best part."
Snake smiled happily and said, "What I heard so far is pretty damned good! What's the rest?"
Boris let out a cackle. "What you don't know is that we’re gonna bag ourselves another copper tonight but that ain’t even the best part."
Snake felt like a kid on Christmas morning, especially after those sons of bitches had chased him all over Richmond just a few hours ago. "What can be better than killing a bunch of cops?"
Boris smiled and taunted him with the information. He wanted to watch Snake squirm a little bit.
But Snake wasn’t buying and he asked Boris quietly, "So, what could be better than killing cops?"
Boris’s face was a caricature of evil. His smile was hideous and he was practically salivating, "The owner of the bar. She's the dark-haired broad you were gawking at this morning at the funeral. She owns the bar and it's the booze hole for the Richmond Police Department. She's a former cop, and," Boris glanced at his watch, "I bet she's gettin’ down there right about now," he said with another cruel smile.
Snake gave him a deadpan look, a clap on the back and said, "Let's go, partner. Let’s go watch the action and then we’ll get her. We’ll have some fun. Yeah! We’re gonna have a good night." He was so excited, that he could hardly walk.