Six weeks later….
The three of us stood at the dock, waiting for the divers to resurface. Detective Jolena Klaassen stood beside me, silent and unmoving, rain streaming off the edge of her umbrella. Beside me, Viktor shifted on his feet. The sky above us was an angry gray, bringing in a surprisingly cold October storm.
None of us spoke as one of the divers surfaced in the dark, swirling water. He took out his mouthpiece and called, “We found another one.”
Without emotion, the detective lifted her radio. “Stand by, divers have recovered a third body. Notify the medical examiner. I repeat, we need a ten-sixty-six. Over.” She turned and looked at me. “You mind waiting? To see if we can get a physical ID?”
This morning, Viktor had the misfortune of seeing a human hand floating in the water in front of our warehouse. I had no choice but to call it in, which had resulted in both of us standing by while the police arrived in droves before sending in divers. This last body was the third one they had found this morning. The first two bodies had been weighted down with large chunks of cement on their feet, making it easy to conclude that these deaths were not accidental.
I didn’t want to look at the body they were pulling out of the water, but I didn’t have much choice. If I refused, the detective would bring me down to the station. It would save time to just comply.
The medical examiner drove to the edge of the water and pulled his diving gear back on. He, along with two members of his team, followed the diver back into the water.
I spoke quietly to Viktor. “Can you find us some coffee?”
Viktor, probably grateful for the opportunity to get out of the rain, headed back to the warehouse.
Something bad was coming. I could feel it like a whisper against my skin. I didn’t know what, or how to prevent it, but I could feel it.
Viktor reappeared before the divers did, carrying two coffees and an umbrella.
“Thanks,” the detective said with real gratitude in her voice, as he handed her a steaming cup.
I opened the umbrella. I was soaked to the bone, but it was a relief not to have the cold rain trickle down my neck. I motioned for Viktor to head back to the warehouse so I could talk to the detective in private.
She sipped her coffee before speaking. “You ever hear the name Ivan Bunko?”
Something dark and ugly snaked up my spine. Keeping my face neutral, I replied, “Thought he was locked up on charges for murder.”
Ivan Bunko was one evil bastard. He was in charge of the Kapans, the most notorious gang on the street today.
“He’s waiting to go on trial, but his little soldiers are still hard at work in Vancouver.”
I had heard that the Kapans had all but decimated two other cities in Canada. They came in and took out smaller gangs one by one before taking out bigger rivals, until they controlled everything. The drug trade, guns, organized crime, even the skin trade. I had heard from reputable sources that once they got control of a city, they became too big and too violent for even the police to control.
“You think he’s responsible for these bodies?”
“It’s Ivan’s signature.” She glanced at me. “He’s got long arms, even from prison.”
I stared blankly back at her, thinking. If the Kapans were in Vancouver and looking to take over, it was nothing but bad news. It would put a target on everyone’s back, especially mine. Nothing created chaos faster than taking out a leader of his gang. For the last five years that I had been in this business, things had been peaceful. On occasion, someone went rogue and things got a bit violent, but for the most part, we all understood that fighting was bad for business. Gang rivalry put us on the radar of law enforcement, and that cost money. If the detective was right, and Ivan was making his move on our city, there would be a lot of bloodshed.
“When is his trial?”
She sighed. “Not soon enough. We’ve got our star witness in protective custody, but there has already been an attempt on her life.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I thought the point of protective custody was to keep someone safe.”
She stared straight ahead. “We’re not equipped for the likes of Ivan. Not even close. We’ve talked to other cities where he has a foothold. He finds the one judge who has a gambling problem or the cop whose wife is badgering him to get a bigger house, and he exploits those needs until his corruption spreads like an unstoppable cancer.”
“When is his trial?”
“In three months.” She glanced up at me. “I’m not confident he will make it to trial.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. I was used to police doing their best to ruin our business, not give us an edge. “Are you asking me for help?”
She shook her head. “On the record, it’s my duty to inform you that you need to keep your business affairs legal and above board.”
“And off the record?”
She turned to me, a worried look on her face. “Do what you need to do to protect yourself.”
Her stark tone startled me, but before I could answer, a shout sounded from the water. We watched as someone backed a truck to the edge of the harbor, hoisted a crane over the water, and lowered a long cable. Divers’ heads popped up on the surface, and then a large body rack, slowly rose, water streaming from it like a waterfall. I watched with distaste as they brought the body to the cement edge. Divers climbed out, and two medical examiner staff moved forward with cameras and a black body bag.
Detective Klaassen handed me her coffee mug and moved forward. There was a lot of talking, and then she walked back towards me.
“It’s not a pretty sight. Not sure if you will be able to ID the body, but want to see if you can try?”
I nodded and followed her over. Bile rose in my throat as I took in the almost unrecognizable corpse. The face was puffy beyond recognition. The hands were tied behind his back. What I did recognize was the silver, star-studded belt buckle. It belonged to the leader of the Sasori gang.
Fuck, I hated my job.
“I don’t recognize the face, but that belt belonged to Yazimoto.”
She lifted her head and looked at me sharply. “You sure?”
“That’s his belt.”
She shook her head. “Thanks.”
I stepped back, not wanting to look at any more death today. “You need anything else?”
“If you see anything suspicious, don’t hesitate to give me a call.” She handed me a card.
“I won’t.” I waited. She looked like she wanted to say something.
She gave a self-conscious laugh. “If you ever want to talk, you can use that number too. Night or day.”
I narrowed my eyes. I knew an interested female when I saw one. “I will.”
She flushed, but in her gaze I saw longing and desire.
I worked to keep my incredulity off my face. “Thanks, Detective.”
Two hours later, I stood up and looked out the office window of my warehouse. Below me, the police were still doing a grid search of the area.
It would be in my best interest to do my own investigation. The more I knew about Bunko, the better prepared we could be. I needed to understand what was going on. I decided I would start with the star witness.
I called the PI that I held on retainer.
“Yo, Andrusha.”
“Paul, I need you to do some digging for me.”
“You got it.”
“The defense has someone in witness protection.”
“Sure. You got a name?”
I watched as Detective Klaassen walked along the water’s edge, instructing one technician where to take photos. The cool wind whipped her hair across her face. “It’s the female who witnessed Ivan Bunko murder someone in cold blood.”
He gave a low whistle. “What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you can find out about Ivan, the witness, the crime, anything.”
“I’ll clear the decks. I’ll call you when I find something.”
I ended the call but continued to watch the proceedings below. For a moment, I wondered if I had imagined the detective’s innuendo. But that moment, she glanced up, her eyes searching. Our eyes met. She lifted her chin further, subconsciously showing me the length of her neck.
Nope. I hadn’t imagined it. I stared down at her, feeling nothing but indifference. I weighed the pros and cons of getting involved with her. It might be worth all the intel she would feed me. The con was that when it went south, which all my trysts inevitably did, her wrath would probably not be worth the effort.
She squatted down in front of a grid, her muscular butt defined in her cotton pants. I gauged my reaction but felt nothing. No stirring of interest, sexual or otherwise.
I ran my hand through my hair. Women, sex, relationships—they all bored me. I wanted someone who challenged me. Who made me work for it. Lately, everything just seemed routine.
Two days later, Viktor and I were just finishing our meal when the call from Paul came in.
“Paul.”
“I have what you need.”
I motioned for the waitress to bring me the bill. “Talk to me.”
“I emailed you a file on Ivan Bunko. He’s one bad dude.”
“I’ve heard that.”
“He was at a strip club when he met someone outside and gunned them down in cold blood.”
“Who did he kill?”
“One of Bastelli’s men.”
“And the witness?”
“Olivia Childs. She’s a dancer at the club. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I emailed you a file about her too.”
I frowned. “A dancer?”
“Apparently, she witnessed the crime and managed to take off in her car. She called 911. They found the body, but by the time the police caught up to him, he’d lost the gun, created an alibi, and washed away all evidence.”
“Anything else?”
“He was arrested. Police put her in witness protection. Two weeks ago, the safe house she was in got hit. Two of the detectives got shot, but they managed to keep her alive.”
“What happened exactly?”
“Four armed men in face masks attacked the safe house. Cops took significant injuries, but they survived. They got lucky. The next shift was just pulling up when the fight broke out. Probably saved their lives. The four gunmen got away.”
I threw money down on the tray and motioned for Viktor to follow me out to our truck. “Anything else?”
“Do you want me to text you the address?”
I frowned. “For what?”
“For the current safe house.”
I paused and squinted. “You have the address where they are keeping the witness?”
“Took a few grand, but yeah, I got the names of the cops working the case and I followed them to the safe house.”
The last thing I wanted was to get further involved, but information was power. “Sure, text it to me.”
Viktor got into the driver’s seat. “Want to go back to the warehouse?”
My phone pinged.
Paul: 2037 Fox Drive
I tapped my cell against my knee. If Ivan found out that I was involved, I would become his next target, and that would put my entire organization at risk. I really didn’t need that mess on my front door, but the intel could potentially save me time and effort down the road.
I looked over at Viktor. “We need to make a stop. You have any place you need to be?”
He grinned at me. “Nope.”
An hour later, we sat in our truck, halfway down the street from the safe house. They were keeping her in a small, two-story duplex. The neighborhood was an average row of slightly unkempt homes, with peeling paint and nineties stucco.
Viktor leaned forward and peered out the windshield. “Anything I should know?”
“This is the safe house of the witness who can keep Bunko in jail.”
“Who’s the witness?’
“Some stripper who watched him gun down one of Bastelli’s men.”
“I heard about that.” Shock sounded in his tone. “I didn’t know that hit was Bunko.”
I watched as the upstairs light went out. “There’s been a hit on her already.”
He whistled under his breath. “It’d be in your best interest to keep her alive, right?”
I sighed and leaned back in my seat, my eyes on the house. “That would require getting involved. And the last person I want on my ass is Bunko.”
“Lights are out,” Viktor said. We both stared at the house. The main floor lights had all gone out at the same time. Which was unusual and not a good sign.
“Shit,” I said under my breath.
An unmistakable flash came from inside the lower level of the house. I leaned forward, watching intently. Another flash. And then another one.
“Gunfight,” Viktor said in a calm voice.
I listened intently. I heard nothing. “They’re using silencers.”
“Whoa, look at that.” Viktor barely breathed.
I watched as the upper window opened and a slight figure, with a hood pulled over her face, climbed out of the window onto the slanting roof of the porch. She crab-crawled to the edge of the roof and looked over. With surprising agility, she moved onto her stomach and began to climb down a rickety lattice, built more for design than to hold any weight. Her foot went through the wood and she flailed backward. The back of her head hit the ground before she collapsed. She didn’t move.
“Get up,” I said beneath my breath. “Get up.”
“She knocked herself out,” Viktor murmured. “What do you want to do?”
I hesitated. Shit. The last thing I wanted was to get involved. I stared at the crumpled figure, knowing that if we did nothing, she would die. “Go get her.”
Viktor started the truck with a roar and then hit the gas, driving like a bat out of hell towards the house. We took air as he jumped the curb and drove onto the front lawn.
“Cover me,” I said as I flung open the door.
I jumped out and made my way to the slight figure. I bent down and lifted her into my arms. She barely weighed anything. She groaned as I moved back towards the truck.
“Move fast,” Viktor warned from behind the truck. His focus and his weapon were pointed up at the house.
I opened the back of the truck door. The window exploded next to me, showering both me and the woman in shards of glass. I threw her on the seat before climbing in after her.
“Let’s go,” I yelled. I pulled out my weapon and aimed it through the open window at the dark figure who was firing his gun and doing his best to take out Viktor.
I fired three shots, narrowly missing him. He ducked away from the window, giving Viktor time to get in the truck.
“Get us out of here,” I said through gritted teeth as the man reappeared in the window.
Viktor climbed in the seat while I popped two more bullets towards the window.
I yanked the door shut as we pulled away. Three men came spilling out the front door.
A bullet took out our side mirror and then shattered the back window, covering me and the woman in more glass.
“You hit?”
“I’m good,” Viktor growled, gunning the engine.
I looked behind us. Three men stood in the middle of the street. They raised their weapons.
“Incoming,” I yelled, ducking over the woman.
Viktor swerved wildly, as the sound of bullets whizzed by our heads.
I lifted my head and looked back, watching as the men ran towards their vehicle. “They’re coming after us.”
