Bite Me
Page 118

 Shelly Laurenston

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Your family may have started something with that bear they will not want to finish.
Oh?
They took all the money he had in his bank accounts, had him declared dead Livy snorted at that; she didnt mean to, but that had to be Jakestole everything out of his house and destroyed the foundation. Its crumbling as we speak.
That last part wasnt Kowalskis, Livy admitted. That was Mongolian badgers. But Im sure my family asked them to do it.
I warned Rostislav to let it go, but he wont. Not now. Not after what your family did.
You wanted proof Rostislav Chumakov was protecting Whitlan. Now you have it.
Anyone could have tacked Whitlans body to the front of Chumakovs house. It doesnt mean the man had been living there.
So the BPC is still protecting Chumakov? Even now?
Ben-Zeev took a breath, released it. No, were not. But there are bears, friends of Chumakovs, who do not believe he had anything to do with Whitlan. That he was set up by honey badgers who just wanted his money. And they are willing to protect him. To hide him. So it may take some time for us to track him down, and until we doyou and your family are in danger. He wont stop until he destroys all of you.
Yes. Im sure thats true. She smiled at the She-bear. Thanks for letting me know.
She stepped around Ben-Zeev and walked back toward her office. That was when she saw Vic. The way he was scowling, she knew he was looking for her. Not surprising with her past history involving bears tracking her down at the Sports Center.
Im okay, she announced right off the bat.
Whats going on? he demanded. Theres a small caravan of BPC bears outside the Sports Center.
Ben-Zeev came here to warn me that Chumakov went underground.
Because your family fucked with him?
Livy laughed, took Vics hand. I didnt know they were going to, but Im not exactly sorry.
I feel like I should put you into protective custody or something.
No more hiding. She tugged his arm until he came down and she could easily kiss him on the cheek. Then she whispered, Honestly, I wouldnt worry much.
Hes a vindictive prick.
She smiled, nuzzled his jaw. Vic, you still dont get it . . . I come from a family of vindictive pricks.
Kiril wanted to run away. He wanted to get out of here. But something told him he should not be noticed. Not by these men.
There were lots of big men in Moscow. He was used to them. But there was something about these three men . . .Then they began talking. Talking about killing. First a girl and her boyfriend, then the girls mother, and uncles.
Kiril was horrified. He knew gangsters came to the banya for a good steam. Some banyas were just for them. But those criminals never talked business in front of outsiders. Never. Yet these men . . .
Did they know Kiril was in the room? Did they have any idea? Or did they just plan to kill him, too? He didnt know, and he was too terrified to make a run for it. It was like dealing with a dangerous dog. Any sudden moves would have the vicious animal focusing on you. He didnt want that. He just wanted to go home.
Eventually, the two younger men stoodholy God, the size of them. The sheer size of them!and the older one stayed behind, pouring water over his head. He was no youngster, but his muscles, his body in general, was still very fit. He bore scars. Some looked like old knife marks, a few gunshots, but some seemed to be claw marks.
Kiril knew he should get up now, but this older man was scarier than the younger ones. So much scarier.
While he kept his head down, pouring water over it, the older man didnt notice the wooden bench beside him. Like the one Kiril sat upon, it was hollow, the entire thing tacked to the wall. But a piece of wood at the bottom was moving and suddenly it opened.
Fascinated and horrified, Kiril watched a small woman work her way out. She was old. And Asian. Chinese maybe? A long scar on one side of her neck. Without a sound, she eased her way out of the tiny space shed been in. How shed fit in there, he didnt know. Kiril was sure there was a vent behind that bench, but how did she get through it? She was not slim. Just a wide-shouldered old lady.
She got to her feet, and Kiril saw the walking stick she held. Using her other hand, she grasped the head of the stick and pulled out a thin, stainless steel dagger. She stepped up to the older man, and when he lifted his head, suddenly realizing someone was standing next to him, she proceeded to stab him in the throat.
It wasnt wild stabbing, either. But very precise, deep jabs all across his neck.
Gasping for air and wrapping his hands around his throat to stop the bleeding, the man stood, stumbled, and fell to the ground. The old woman walked over to him, flipping him onto his back. Not an easy feat considering his size, but she seemed to have no trouble. She straddled his chest and then sat on it. She watched him for a bit.
You never understood, did you? she said in perfect Russian. Kowalskis never forget . . . but Yangs never forgive. She tossed white hair that had slipped out of her simple bun from her eyes. If youd like, though, she taunted, you can pretend this last bit is mercy. But, she said as she raised her arm, well both know it really isnt.