The Spirit Survives (32 page)

A shrill voice cracked the death-laden silence like a gunshot, “I’ve got her and you will never get her back!”
 

I stood on the street alone, my face cracked with stress, my mind blown by pressures. I screamed for help to find Leah. My cry for help shook the foundations of life. My words were clear, pure, earth-shattering.

People listened.

No one heard.

I awoke abruptly, once again in a cold sweat and glanced at the clock on the end table. It was six o’clock. I swung out of bed and went to the shower. I lingered and let the cold water splash on my face and body. After shaving and getting dressed, I went to the breakfast buffet and had two cups of black coffee and a couple of pieces of toast. The newspaper’s headlines were about the apparent murder of Bastone. Green Bay was not accustomed to the wave of violence of recent weeks. I finished my breakfast and went back to the room to wait for Rex. He appeared perfectly on time, and we proceeded to the airport.

The cool misty rain continued falling in Green Bay. In a very few weeks, the first snow would fall and the hard winter would rest on this frozen land. Ice fishing, snow sledding, and skiing would be the recreations of choice. Of course, the beloved Packers were the primary entertainment. Winter would last until May, and the residents didn’t seem to mind at all. This was very different from the South Texas climate, which I loved. There were only two seasons in Houston, a short spring and a long summer. If Leah and I ever got through this nightmare, I intended on convincing her to move to Houston and enjoy life there.

Our flight left on time without incident, and we arrived promptly at O’Hare airport. It was a clear beautiful day in Chicago with the temperature in the upper seventies. Rex and I went to Avis to rent me a car and I chose a Ford SUV. His car was in long-term parking and he was anxious to get home to his wife and kids. We agreed to talk later in the day.

I told him that I was going to rent a place in the Presidential Towers in downtown Chicago. I had stayed there when I was on special assignment with the police department. I left the airport in my black SUV and drove straight to the Presidential Towers.

“How are you, Mr. Harris?” the attractive blonde desk clerk greeted me. Her name was Chelsey and she remembered me from my lengthy stay a few months ago. She had flirted openly with me. The one time Leah was with me when I went to the desk was a mistake. Leah recognized the voluptuous girl’s advances, and with a laugh told me that, if I ever spoke to her again, I might awake some morning missing my most important manly attribute. We laughed about that for days.

It seemed like a million years had passed since that time. I asked Chelsey if apartment 702 was available. That’s the apartment I stayed in before. I was happy to find out that it was free. I booked it indefinitely.
 

I walked to the elevator, got in, and pushed seven. There was an Asian guy standing at the back of the elevator. He was very well dressed in a custom black cashmere and wool suit. When our eyes met, he looked down. He was carrying an odd- looking brown bag. It had a silky look to it, and I could swear there was a soft scent of lemon and vanilla coming from the bag. He got off on the fifth floor, looked back at me, and briskly walked away. This incident gave me a very strange feeling, but I dismissed it. I got off on seven and proceeded to apartment 702.

I put my bag in the main bedroom and unpacked the meager belongings that I had brought with me. The building housed a small grocery store, a couple of restaurants, a hair salon, and a very nice fitness center on the roof. I decided to go pick up a few groceries for my stay and get a bottle of Jack Daniels. I returned to the elevator. When the door opened, there was an older couple on the elevator. The man had a walking cane and smiled at me when I got on. The woman was clinging to his arm and looking at him with warm affection. I just nodded and pushed the lobby button. The elevator stopped on floor five, and I saw the Asian guy standing there. He looked at me and then abruptly turned and walked away. He was still carrying that strange bag.
 

I arrived at the lobby without further incident, and purchased two bags of groceries, making sure I had the fixings for cheese garlic grits, which was one of my favorites. I also purchased a large bottle of Jack.

I made my way back to the apartment, put the groceries away, and prepared a turkey, mayo, and onion sandwich. I sat eating it while looking out the window and pondering what to do next. The ringing of my cell phone broke the silence.

“Hello, this is Ben.”

“Well Ben, I see that you and your cop friend made it to Chicago,” was the response from the familiar female voice who had told me about Bastone and Leah.

“Who is this?” I asked urgently.

“Never mind that,” she said. “The girl is here in Chicago. Sergey Ivanova has her and he plans to send her to Houston soon, so you better hurry.”

I heard the click as she hung up. I immediately pushed in Rex’s cell number; there was no time to waste. The cell rang eight times, and then the recorded message came on. “This is Rex Herns. Leave your name and number, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“Rex, this is Ben, I just received another call from the woman who told us about Bastone. She said Leah is here in Chicago with Sergey Inanova. We don’t have much time. She said he was sending her to Houston immediately. This is urgent. Call me back.”

Chapter 70

Mutilating and killing Lopez turned Sergey on. Normally when he killed, he would call his Charleston mistress and have rough sex with her, but why bother when he had a sexy woman tied to a chair in the other room. He could use a strange piece now to release the tensions in his body. He poured two glasses of Diva vodka and walked to the kitchen where Leah was tied to the chair. He pulled her chair to the table and cut the tape from her hands, but did not cut the binds on her feet. He walked to the kitchen sink, wet a cloth with cold water, came back and put it on her forehead. Her hand immediately came up and grabbed the cloth from his hands. She held it to her head a moment, and then wiped her face.
 

“What do you want with me?” Leah mumbled.

“Nothing baby.” Sergey handed her the glass of vodka.
 

Leah accepted it and took a long drink. She took a deep breath and coughed. She thought the clear liquid was water, but the burning sensation going down her throat helped calm her nerves. She took another long drink. The shock of seeing Ben shot was still vivid. He was dead. She had no reason to live. Leah looked over at the tall Russian without any idea of what was happening. He was a handsome man, but there was pure evil showing in his eyes. “I don’t know what you want,” she said again.

“Honey I just want you to be nice to me, and I’ll let you go.”

“What do you mean, nice?” Leah asked.

“I need a piece of ass!” Sergey chuckled as he reached forward and ripped off the front of her shirt.
 

Leah instantly threw the rest of the vodka in his face. She tried to get up, but the tape on her feet caused her to fall to the floor.
 

Sergey picked her up and threw her over his shoulders. She beat his back with her fist as he carried her to the bedroom. He threw her on the bed and slapped her hard across the face. Blood dripped from her lips as she tried to scream. Sergey put his huge hand around her mouth and said. “Scream again and I’ll break your arm.”
 

Leah shrieked again and Sergey twisted her arm. He really didn’t want to break it because the Arabs would not pay as much for damaged merchandise. Anyway, his apartment was sound proofed and no one could hear her screams.

Leah attempted to bite his hand, but Sergey yanked it away and slapped her again. He put both her hands together and held them down over her head, with his other hand, he ripped off her panties. She was writhing savagely and trying to kick him but the weight of his body and his extraordinary strength held her down. He wedged her legs apart and entered her.
 

Leah broke into sobs. “Ben will kill you for this!” she shrieked, “He will kill you, bastard.” Then she remembered that Ben was dead. She collapsed and lay still.
 

Sergey loved the struggle; it made him more aroused that she was fighting him so hard. When she stopped fighting and lay still, he violently shoved it deeper and deeper until he orgasmed. “That was the best piece I’ve had in a long time,” he said, but Leah just lay still with her eyes closed and her face wet with tears. Sergey grinned, took the duct tape from the end table, and taped her hands and feet again and left her lying on the bed.

He went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When the steam rose from the hot water, he got in and washed off the smell of Leah. His wife was expert in smelling the scent of a woman on him. He went to his closet and dressed in his white dinner jacket, black cashmere and wool slacks, and a pale blue dress shirt. His wife always liked to pick out his tie to wear to these formal political affairs, so he waited on that.

There was a knock on the door and he answered it. Bern was back to clean up the mess and get the girl. Sergey once again gave him instructions about the disposal of Bo Lopez’s remains and the delivery of Leah to his man in Houston. After experiencing her body, he was sure that she would bring a premium price. Of course the Arabs would have to get a sample before buying her. His man in Houston was an expert in drugging the women to a point that they did not resist sex. He was tempted to keep her for himself, however, his mistress and his wife would have to be enough for awhile.

He gave his extra key to Bern and left the apartment. He could not be late for the dinner with the mayor.
 

On the drive back to his home, Sergey considered what he had to do next. The information he received from the FBI woman, Bastone, and Bo left him no choice but to assassinate Elasar Fernandez and Perez Salazar, the leaders of the Selazar cartel in Houston. He was hesitant to kill Flores, the head of the Flores cartel in Chicago because the Mexican was in his home city, but his honor was at stake. It could not be known that these men were implicated in killing his daughter and went unpunished. He would do what he had to do to avenge his beloved Veronika.

 
The bloodletting would start in two days. The treaty between the drug cartels and the Russian Mafia had been violated. Anger once again filled Sergey Inavova’s heart. He yearned to destroy them just the same way he had massacred Bo Lopez, but that was unworkable. He would figure out a way to make them suffer, be violated, and send the clear message: The Russian Mafia and Sergey could not be insulted without an extreme price to pay.

Chapter 71

Late August and early September are the muggiest days in Houston. Sometimes when you just open your car door and get out, you are virtually covered with perspiration. The long-time residents don’t seem to mind, but new people to the area are astonished at the heat and humidity. It’s even stranger when you pass a team of Mexicans doing landscaping and yard mowing. Their heads are totally covered with hats, and they wear long-sleeved shirts and long pants to protect themselves from the blistering sun. They eat bananas and drink a lot of water, but somehow keep going fifteen hours a day.
 

This hot afternoon was one of those intolerable days as Viadislav Lenechka sat at Ellington field, a small airport south of Houston, in his black Escalade waiting on the private plane coming from Chicago. Lenechka, known as Cheche, had worked for Sergey for eight years.
 

He was a handsome man and gifted with the ladies, but like most Russian Mafia men, he had a mean streak if any woman didn’t follow his orders exactly. His present position with Sergey was running the sex slave trade in Houston. While building up this business, he established contacts in the Arab world where oil rich Arabs had an insatiable desire for young American women. They were willing to pay whatever was asked if the woman was sexy enough.
 

Cheche also had established a chain of policemen whom he bribed weekly to protect him and warn him of pending raids. He was excited to get this white piece of female meat from Sergey because it gave him a chance to distinguish himself in Sergey’s eyes. He would sell her quickly and at a very high price.

He watched as Sergey’s private jet landed and Bern and two associates exited the plane. Bern was carrying a large container and one of the other men had a beautiful woman by the arm. She was blindfolded and her hands were taped together. She seemed to offer little resistance.
 

Cheche got out of his Escalade and waved at Bern. He had worked with Bern on occasion and was fully aware that the man was Sergey’s right hand. Bern smiled and walked over to him with the other men following.

“How’s it going?” Bern greeted him.

“Great. What’s in the container?”

“Just some trash Sergey wants me to dispose of,” was the reply. Cheche knew better than to ask further questions.

“Here is the merchandise Sergey wanted me to deliver,” Bern said as he grabbed Leah’s arm and jerked her forward. “She looks like a nice piece to me and Sergey said to tell you that he took a sample and it was hot as hell.”

Cheche looked at the woman standing in front of him. She appeared tired and had a slightly swollen lip, but he could still recognize her elegant beauty. He ran his hand over her breasts, she flinched but said nothing. “Nothing fake about these tits,” Cheche said with a laugh, “I’d like some of this myself.”