Highway To Armageddon (42 page)

           
“Didn’t you hear what I said about leaving your loved ones behind?” Norma
snarls.

           
“Let’s just say we have different philosophies,” Lance says, pulling back his
arm. “Unlike you, we’re not
cowards
who desert their friends.”

           
Norma lunges toward Lance, but she’s way too slow. Lance hurls the bottle
straight at her face. It explodes on impact, showering her head in booze and
glass fragments. Norma shrieks and clutches her bleeding face.

           
On the far side of the roof Igor claps and laughs like a deranged little kid.
“Excellent! You all are way more entertaining than the last batch of recruits.
They went flying off the roof within seconds.”

           
Damn these Russians are crazy. I really need to go help Arrow, but if I turn my
back I’ll just get choked again. I decide to go on the offense and deliver a
dropkick to Norma’s head. She staggers forward, straight into Lance’s swinging
fist. This sends the ogre to her knees. I follow up with three stiff kicks to
her head. Norma falls face-first to the ground as Igor and his cronies give a
collective, “Ohhh…”

           
Fred charges toward us, swinging a metal chair like he’s a professional
wrestler. His taller counterpart, Frank, makes his way over to Arrow. I start
to run toward Frank, but Fred swings the chair at my head, barely missing me.

           
Fred continues coming after me with the chair. He’s way slower than I am, so I
easily dodge all of his shots.

           
Out of my peripheral vision I see Frank trying to stomp on Arrow’s fingers.
Arrow keeps sliding his hands back and forth on the ledge, but eventually Frank
is going to make contact, sending Arrow tumbling to his death. And Norma is
already back on her feet, strangling Lance. We need to end this,
now
.
Fred takes another swing at my head. I drop to my knees and punch him in the
groin.

           
“Not the family jewels!” Fred wails in a high-pitched voice.

           
I snatch up the chair and wallop Fred upside the back of his head. He collapses
into a cursing, groaning heap.

           
Igor gives me another round of applause. “Excellent, Ruby, excellent! You would
make a fantastic assassin!”

           
“If you thought that was awesome, wait until you get a load of this!”

           
I sprint over to Igor and his cronies with my chair. Igor stops laughing and
cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, what are you…”

           
He never finishes his sentence. I smack Winston with the chair, grab his
machine gun, wrap my left arm around Igor’s neck, and place the muzzle of my
confiscated gun against his right temple. The girls shriek and topple off his
lap. Bob and the other guards aim their guns at me. I crouch behind Igor and
peep my head over his shoulder.

           
“No false moves or his brains splatter all over the Vegas Strip!” I bark.

           
Igor’s goons appear perplexed, like they don’t know what to do. I guess this
never happened to them before.

           
“Drop your guns,” I demand. “NOW!”

           
“Do as she says,” Igor says, sounding surprisingly amused.

           
Bob and the other goons hesitantly lay their weapons on the roof.

           
“Now tell Norma and the other doofuses to stop trying to kill my friends!”

           
“Norma, stop choking Vladimir! And Frank, pull poor Arkady off of the ledge.”

           
Norma plants Lance back on his feet while Frank grabs Arrow’s arms and drags
him away from the abyss.

           
“So did we pass?” I growl at Igor. “Keep in mind I get trigger happy when I
fail.”

           
“Yes, yes, you passed with flying colors!” Igor exclaims ecstatically. “I love
your improvisation skills. You broke all the rules I laid out for you, but
sometimes you have to do that in order to accomplish a mission. I need
quick-witted, vastly intelligent people like you. Well done. Well done indeed.”

           
I loosen my grip around Igor’s neck, but I keep the gun pressed against his
skull.

           
“If I knew this is what you wanted, I would have tried to kill you from the
get-go.”

           
Igor bursts out laughing again. He is a bizarre man. Charismatic, but bizarre.

           
“You are rather psychotic, you know that?”

           
“I prefer
eccentric
, but I will acknowledge I’m not like most other
people,” Igor chortles before turning a bit more serious.

           
“You know what I enjoyed most about your stellar performance? The fact that you
and your friends stuck together and helped each other out, even when Norma
advised you that was not wise. You guys actually taught me a thing or two about
standing your ground, even in the face of overwhelming odds. We may have to
rethink our whole
‘leave your friends behind in order to accomplish the
mission’
mentality.”

           
“It is rather cowardly to leave your friends to death and torture.” I rejoin
Lance and Arrow, but I keep my machine gun trained on Igor.

           
Frank helps Fred up and leads him over to Igor. His head is bleeding profusely
from my chair shot. I start to feel bad for him, but then I remember he did try
to kill me.

           
For several tense seconds we all stand there in a face-off, me and the boys on
one side of the roof and Igor and his cronies on the other side. Igor watches
us intensely, as if he’s trying to peer inside our minds.

           
After an uncomfortable amount of time passes, Igor says, “I like you guys. I
like you all a lot. That’s why I’m going to accept you into my gang.”

           
Lance and Arrow gasp. A shiver of excitement shoots up my spine. We did it.

           
“Thank you, Comrade,” I say in my most convincing accent. “This is the highest
honor of our lives. You won’t regret this.”

           
“I don’t think I will. Before I accept you into my fold, however, I kindly ask
you carry out one more task.”

           
My hear sinks and my smile fades away.

           
“One more task?” I stammer.

           
“Yes. The fourth and most difficult portion of our initiation process. You must
carry out a
hit
.”

           
The TV screens hovering over Igor’s head begin to show a steady stream of
faces. The names of the targets flash under their headshots. There are
politicians, police officers, detectives, casino owners, rival gangbangers,
suspected Chinese spies. It seems there is no end to the number of people Igor
would like to see dead.

           
“We don’t care which one of these targets you choose to go after,” Igor says as
the faces flash by. “All I ask is that you bring me the severed head of your
victim.”

           
“Their severed head?” I cry.

           
Igor cocks an eyebrow. “Yes. I require proof that you actually killed one of my
many rivals. What better proof is there than a severed head? Will this be a
problem?”

           
Lance clutches my shoulders in an attempt to keep my calm. “No, no problem at
all,” Lance says casually. He’s lying, of course. I know he’s as appalled at
what Igor is asking of us as I am. But he knows we must do it if we are to have
any hope of nabbing Rasputin.

           
Lance gasps and mutters, “Caesar?”

           
I glance at him and say, “What?”

           
Igor overhears us and waves his hand. The TV screens rewind back to an image of
the man who has made our lives a living hell over the past six months… Caesar
Dominguez.

           
“Caesar is one of the people you want killed?” I ask.

           
“But of course,” Igor says. “It’s no secret there is no love lost between our
two organizations. Caesar is always trying to encroach on our territory and
poach our clients. Rumor has it he has recently moved his base of operations to
the Vegas area.”

           
“Why?” Arrow asks.

           
Igor shrugs. “Who knows? We believe he decided to do so after Klaxton placed a
bounty on Rasputin. Caesar probably believes he will be able to move in on our
lucrative Vegas market if Rasputin falls. He is sadly mistaken, of course.
Rasputin is well hidden. No one will ever find him. But Caesar is still a
formidable foe. We’d all sleep much easier if he were taken out.”

           
“Then we’ll bring you his head,” Lance blurts out.

           
Arrow and I spin around and stare at Lance like he’s on crack.

           
“Are you nuts?” I whisper. “Let’s go after someone a little easier!”

           
“No, I want son of a bitch dead just as much as Igor does,” Lance growls.

           
I shake my head and groan. Lance is letting his hatred for Caesar corrupt our
mission. I can’t really say anything, though. Igor and his goons are all
staring at us, searching for signs of weakness. We have to prove we’re tough
enough to join his gang. It’s our only play.

           
I shrug. “Okay. We will go after Caesar.”

           
Igor and his goons nod approvingly.

           
“You all got some guts, I’ll give you that,” Norma says. “If you bring us the
head of Caesar, I’ll bet even Rasputin will come out of hiding to congratulate
you.”

           
“Really?” I stammer. I can barely contain my excitement. Maybe Lance knows what
he’s doing.  Maybe going after Caesar is our best play.

           
“I’m sure a meeting with the Great Leader can be arranged, assuming you are
able to accomplish what no one else has,” Igor says, flashing his golden smile.
“If you bring us the head of our greatest rival, I will secure you a meeting
with the most wanted man on Earth.”

           
“That would be an amazing honor,” I say as solemnly as I can.

           
Igor gestures to Norma, who grabs several bottles of vodka from a cooler. Norma
pours everyone a drink. The boys and I grab a glass and join the Ruskies in a
toast.

           
“To the resurrection of Mother Russia!” Igor proclaims, raising his glass high
into the air.

           
“To Mother Russia!” we all shout.     

           
Igor and his goons chug their glasses in one gulp. The boys and I take a small
sip. It takes everything I have not to spit it out.

           
As Igor and his goons rattle on about how much they hate Caesar, one thought
consumes my mind.

           
How the hell do we nab Caesar when we almost died going after him a week ago?

Chapter Fifteen:
Lance

           
To say everyone is pissed I proposed going after Caesar would be an
understatement of epic proportions. On the ride back from Igor’s hideout I’m
the victim of a relentless barrage of profanity, insults, and death threats.
(Most of the death threats come from Machete and Krystal.) I try to calmly
explain we’re killing two birds with one stone. Instead of taking out an
innocent politician or rival casino owner, we’re going after one of the most
evil crime lords in America. In the process we will win over the trust and
respect of the Ruskies, giving us access to Rasputin’s whereabouts. The threats
and insults continue to fly, but they do become a little less intense and
vulgar. I guess everyone finally realizes I’m right.

           
On our way back to our crappy motel we stop at a store to grab some supplies.
Boom Boom, Arrow and I are still pretty beat-up from our little romp on the roof
of Igor’s casino. I grab a couple bottles of aspirin to help blunt the stabbing
pain shooting all over my battered body. I’ll have to make sure I hide the
bottles when we go to sleep. I don’t want Boom Boom suffering a relapse.

           
We also grab some gauze and bandages to wrap around our bruised backs and
limbs. Dorothy makes sure to grab some bug spray for our roach-infested room.
We also get some bottled water and snacks. (None of us want to risk drinking
water from the sink in our room. We’ll probably get dysentery.)

           
By the time we get back to the motel we’re utterly exhausted. We all take quick
showers, wrap our abused bodies in bandages, and get ready for bed. Boom Boom
and Arrow share one of the beds, something I’m not too happy about. I get
payback by sharing the other bed with Dorothy. (The look of fury on Boom Boom’s
face is priceless.) Krystal sprawls out on the sofa, and Machete falls asleep
in a chair.

           
It feels like I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes when Machete claps her
hands and bellows, “Rise and shine, slackers!”

           
I crack open my crusty eyes and glance at the clock. It’s 7:45am. I pull the
sheet back over my head. “Let us sleep in, Machete. We’re exhausted.”

           
Machete grabs my legs and yanks me off the bed.