“I don’t really know. With my mom’s death shaking my whole world up, I wanted to do something that wasn’t related to the family. But my father had plans for me, regardless of what I wanted. Alexei being the prime example,” she says with some heat in her voice.
I think she’s been bottling her shit up for some time now. It was just the icing on the cake when her father tried to force her into a marriage she didn’t want. I have no clue how the fuck what I did was any different. Then again, she’s tried to kill me since then… Maybe she gets off on the violence just as much as I do.
She sure fucked like it last night.
“Well, we’ll be doing something with him as soon as I find the little dick bastard,” I grin as I look at her.
She smiles, but it’s not exactly a warm one.
“I just want to see how he fucking responds to being drugged up while someone pushes his ass around.”
“I doubt I’ll be doing much pushing. I’ve got a feeling my fists will be doing most of the work.”
We travel through the city in silence. This city is a lot like Garden city, except smaller and a little poorer. Lots of vice, though. I think at one time there were plans on taking over this city like Lucifer did with Garden, but I’m guessing the Russians are fucking that up.
“So, being Callahan’s daughter… Besides the whole Russian pricks coming into the city, what else has been happening?” I ask.
Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “I don’t know much. I know that a Mexican cartel has been pissing my father off because the uneasy truce with the Heralds of Hell seems to be breaking down…”
“They’re still around?” I ask. “The Heralds of Hell? I remember they were having issues before I went to prison.”
“Yeah, they’ve been operating on the fringes for some time now, but they offered help to my father when the Italians bombed us. He took them up on it, but with the Mexican cartel trying to take over all the drug trade in the city, it’s put a strain on him. The Heralds want more guns and manpower to fight with, and the Irish have been struggling to keep what property they can to themselves. Then you have the Russians pushing their way into the mix. It’s a powder keg, one match and this whole city will be at war.”
Well, fuck me running. She’s knows more than I thought she did.
Looking around the street I’m on, I spot a parking spot close to the Russian restaurant The Little Bear.
“Gonna need you to take over driving in a minute,” I say as I reverse the truck into the parking spot.
Directly ahead of us the sleepy little restaurant sits. It’s a small building, thankfully nothing on either side of it.
“What? Why?” Meghan asks.
“I need to go say hello to some friends, and I need you at the wheel,” I say as I pull the black bag from the backseat up to my lap.
“I thought we did everything together,” she says with a frown.
“We do, so that means you need to get us out of here as soon as I get in the truck,” I say and pull out four sticks of C-4.
Grabbing the bag of ball-bearings, I hand Meghan two sticks of the explosive.
Setting the bearings bag between us, I grab a handful and start pushing them into the explosive, trying to give it a good covering.
“Can you do those two sticks?” I ask as I start on my second bar of the grayish plastic explosive.
“What exactly are we doing?” she asks as she takes a handful of bearings and starts pressing them into the explosive.
“Collateral damage. I want to make sure this place doesn’t get rebuilt.”
“Oh.”
Looking over the four long bars of C-4, I grin as I stuff them into a small black bag. After thinking for a moment, I end up pushing the rest of the metal ball bearings into the bag with it. Pushing detonators into each stick, I set them to blow from the little receiver I have in my pocket.
“Be right back, keep the engine running,” I say.
Jumping out of the truck, I look back and see Meghan climbing into the driver’s seat with a pensive look on her face. She’s more than likely questioning what exactly she signed up for. She’s about to see. I haven’t exactly killed anyone in front of her eyes yet, or had her kill anyone, but it’s only a matter of time before it happens.
Putting a pleasant smile on my face as I cross the street, I head directly for the front door of the dimly lit restaurant. It’s looks just like I remembered, old and out of date. Still clinging to the past. Fuck, that sounds a bit like me if I’m being honest with myself. Old and out of date. Clinging to a past full of hurt and anger.