Chapter 35
Resolutions for the Resolute
5:37am
The first thing she noticed was the episode of Grace and Frankie playing in the background. It didn’t make sense, but there was something welcoming about Jane Fonda’s voice, even though the actress sounded rather irritated at Lily Tomlin’s character.
After a minute or so, Smitty remembered that she wasn’t home falling asleep in front of the TV. Then she realized what she was sitting on was not her couch.
“What the fuck!” Smitty sat up gasping, her heart racing as it started flooding back. She had been staring down Russian criminals and then drones for the third time in twenty-four hours. Now she was sitting on Janice’s couch.
“She’s gone,” Janice answered. “The last thing she said was to make sure we all hydrated.”
Janice was seated on an ottoman to her left. To her right, Max was covered by a blue blanket, still fast asleep. A glance down revealed that she was covered by a green blanket herself. In front of her was a pitcher of ice water and two glasses.
“What happened?” she asked Janice.
Janice started telling Smitty her version of the Kendra vs. Jon fight, then had to stop and restart when a groaning Max woke up a few minutes into her story.
“Let’s see if I got this right.” Listening to the story had helped clear most of Max’s tranquilizer induced cobwebs. “Kendra beat Jon Ratkevich to death and then dumped us here on the couch.”
“And emptied your guns in case one of you woke up.”
“She took Detective Romero’s body?” Smitty stood up to look at where she suspected the body should have been.
“The drones did that,” Janice explained. “Took care of the clean up too. I can’t see a spec of blood. And after she and her mechanical minions left, I got on the floor and really looked. Nothing there.”
“What about the sister? Did you see Clarissa? How about the other two men from outside?” Max asked.
“I didn’t see Clarissa at all. But Kendra and the drones piled the other two men back into the limo. I think she drove off with them.”
“Any people on the street see any of these high-tech shenanigans?” Smitty asked.
“The streets were deserted. There’s never a lot of foot traffic around here but at this hour no one’s out. Even if I have neighbors that saw anything, or woke up when you shot that one drone, they’re not going to talk.”
When Max seemed to want to ask another question, Smitty grabbed his arm. “Dude, we lost. Again. Go home and relieve your Nigerian babysitter.”
“But what the hell is she doing with Yuri and Clarissa?”
“Nothing good. Something they probably deserve.”
“I’m pregnant!” Janice blurted suddenly. “That was the deal. I had to let her impregnate me, I’m assuming with Max’s sperm.” She started to cry, then stopped herself.
“Fuck me,” Max cried.
“She might as well have,” Smitty said, with a sardonic chuckle before she walked over and knelt by Janice. “It’s okay. We will get you through this.”
Max sighed. “Of course.”
“Thanks. And thanks for coming to rescue me. For cops, you guys are okay.”
Janice wept in Smitty’s arms as Max stood by awkwardly, the gravity of the situation slowly dawning on him. After a moment, Smitty finally refocused him.
“Nigerian babysitter, remember?” Not letting go of Janice, she shot Max an annoyed look. “Go. I’ll stay here.”
Max given the information he’d just received, felt more than a pang of guilt. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Janice and I are going to hang out. Been meaning to catch up on Grace and Frankie anyway.”
They all stood up. Each lady gave Max a goodbye hug.
“We’ll talk,” he told Janice.
“I know,” she said, giving him a half-hearted smile.
Once Max exited, Janice sobbed and Smitty caught her. During the embrace, her voice muffled against Smitty’s chest, Janice explained that she was not crying because of the pregnancy, but because of the horrors she’d seen in the past days.
“That’s why I turned on a comedy,” Janice admitted.
“I understand,” Smitty said as she rubbed Janice’s back. The truth was, sitcoms were a staple in Smitty’s television viewing as well, and served to chase away the demons that sometimes followed her home on many occasions.
What followed was a bonding moment mixed with an impromptu slumber party. The two women would continue to watch Netflix comedies and fall asleep shoulder to shoulder on Janice’s couch long before the ‘Are You Still Watching’ icon popped up on the screen. About five hours later, they would wake up, make brunch and be well on their way to being friends forever.
***
“My head hurts,” he heard Boris say in Russian.
Yuri opened his eyes to pitch darkness. As his vision cleared, he realized he was lying in the back of his limo. He brought himself upright, slowly at first. He looked outside the windows. “What the fuck?”
“Boss? How did we get here?” Boris sounded as confused as Yuri felt.
“Not sure,” Yuri called out as he finally found the seat. He winced as the pain from the tranquilizer dart sent a sharp reminder across his left ass cheek.
“We were attacked by robots,” Boris said. “That is the last thing I remember.”
“Drones, you idiot.”
“Right, Boss, drones.”
Both of their cell phones rang seconds apart. Both calls were from numbers marked, ‘unknown’. They both answered.
“Hello,” Yuri said.
“Da!” Boris said. Yuri thought to tell Boris to shut up, but that became a secondary notion once he realized it was Zhabin on the line. “Yuri, where are you?”
“I am in my limo,” he said. “Boris and I were drugged.”
“Is that how you try to explain it?”
“Explain what? Zhabin, whatever is wrong, I can fix it. You know this.”
“You can fix police lieutenant having all of Pavel’s files?”
“What?” Yuri’s entire body shuddered. “How?”
“Why don’t you let her tell you?” Zhabin said. “Lieutenant?”
The next voice Yuri heard was Theresa Lopez’s. She was sitting in an Uber on her way home from Rego Park as she had been instructed. “Hello, Yuri. I got your little love note. Thank you for that. I just called to let Zhabin know that nothing in Pavel’s files implicate him directly, but a lot of his businesses, legit and otherwise will be getting raided tomorrow, thanks to the intel you provided.”
“Me!” Yuri’s voice had gone shrill. “I gave nothing to that Spanish bitch! Zhabin! They’re setting me up!”
“I have an email in front of me that you, apparently, originally sent to the lieutenant. ‘My dearest, I am obsessed with you and need you to forgive me for what happened years ago. I am a different man. The Brotherhood will not miss these files…”
“Zhabin! You can’t believe this! I am being framed!”
“How could I frame you? I’m NYPD. We don’t have the technology to send an email from your account.” Lopez’s voice was purposeful and calm.
“‘…and you can use this information to advance your career as you arrest low-level members of my organization. One of them will eventually give you the Cossacks.’ This is how you display loyalty?”
“It is from your account,” Zhabin added. “I have had people checking this.”
“No! No! No! NO!” Yuri shouted. “I have been loyal to The Brotherhood. And I have all the bitches I could possibly fuck! Why would I fall in love with a Spanish pig?”
“Oh! I’m only good enough to rape and send harassing phone calls to, is that it?” Lopez managed to sound slightly hurt.
“Even if this is not true, you are massive liability, Yuri.” Zhabin said. “Boris, you know what to do.”
Yuri reached for the gun that had been in his waist. It wasn’t there. Before he could say another word, Boris fired four bullets into his chest. As his life force faded, Yuri found Boris’ eyes peering out from behind his gun. Indignant to the end, he spat up a mouthful of blood as if saying ‘fuck you all’ before he slumped down dead. His eyes stayed open.
Zhabin sighed. “Lieutenant, I believe our business is done. You will keep up your end of the bargain, yes?”
“No raids on your organizations for twenty-four hours. In return, you leave the Thursby girl alone and I will arrange for you to receive one of the camera blockers which I’m sure will help with your robbery and hijackings. One police officer so much as gets nicked by a stray bullet because of one of said robberies and the deal is null and void.”
“Understood. And there is no reason to go after the girl. If I am to understand correctly, the Ratkeviches are dead. Their body parts are in the car with Yuri and Boris.”
“Half true,” Lopez corrected. “Clarissa, whatever her name was, got away. She could be anywhere now.”
“Unfortunate, but inconsequential.” Zhabin dismissed. “She’s just a girl. She will likely end up back in Kiev turning tricks.”
“I forget how progressive you Russians can be,” Lopez sneered.
“Good night, Lieutenant,” He ended the call without waiting for a response. “Boris! Are you still there?”
“Yes, Boss!”
“You’re not far from the restaurant, right?”
Boris looked around. “We are on a side street.”
“Go to the usual place. I will send guys to help you get rid of bodies.”
“Yes, Boss!” he parroted as he started the car.
The truth is, when Zhabin said ‘I will send guys to help you get rid of bodies.’ Boris didn’t think that things would go his way. An hour later, when two of Zhabin’s remaining thugs in leather jackets arrived at Pietor’s Chop Shop in Staten Island, they found no one alive in the limo. Boris had parked the stretch just outside the establishment and skated. As it turned out, he was smarter than everyone thought he was.