CHAPTER 5

"Shit." I mutter, as the grocery bag falls on the floor. It'd been a month since I'd lost my job. It wasn't easy. I had enough money saved to last me for a while longer but I needed to think of an alternative, another means to fend for myself.

My phone rings. "Benji!"

"You sound awfully chirpy. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm just having a good time. . ." I say, wondering why I was lying. I was not having a good time. I hated it here.

"I could come over tonight, with food packed by my mother. Would you like that? Some homemade food?"

"Italian? Count me in, partner." I respond, chuckling.

I'd known Benjamin for the longest. We had a weird relationship. We could tell each other things, be real honest with each other, but we'd both end up feeling really weird about, almost as though we'd made a big mistake by confiding in one another. Benjamin was married too. His wife, Marilyn, wasn't fond of me.

Dropping my car keys on the wooden center table, I sit down, still holding my grocery bag. It was time to eat. I bring out the Chinese from my grocery bag, and I begin to eat.

My mind drifts off to the headquarters. I missed being there, I missed being at work.

"Tsk. Damn you, Volkov." I hiss, as I remember why I was even out of a job in the first place. How could one man be so hard to find? How was he so careful and tactful, never slipping or letting his guard down for even a moment? Hell, there was no face to even work with. All we knew was that he was a tall man, had extremely dark hair and had his entire body covered in tattoos. Other than that, nobody knew what this man looked like. Anybody could be y'all, have black hair and be covered in tattoos. I'd failed countlessly, trying to nab this man, this gangster, Leonid.

I take out my phone and search the internet. Leonid Volkov. The results are quite minimal. Just a few headlines, Russia's biggest syndicate at odds with the mob? Is Leonid Volkov a man amongst us?

I drop my phone, irked. I would really do anything to catch this man and if I did, there was a possibility that I could get my job at the Secret Service back.

An idea pops into my head. It was an idea I'd never thought of before. I could only pray it worked. I pick up my phone and place a call.

"Hello, MK, right?" He responds. "Cool, I don't know if you remember me, but it's Andrea. Is the bar open? Okay, I'll be there in a few."

****

Walking into the poorly lit bar, I scan the area, looking for MK. He wasn't at the bar. I take out the lollipop from my mouth and try to act as natural as possible. Not that I was an agent and on a mission.

"Hi, where's MK?" I ask a waitress.

"He's at the back. Who are you?"

"A customer? What's with the tone?"

She eyes me. "Customers don't just come in here looking for a specific person. I'd suggest you leave." She says, and my eyes fall on MK. He's badly bruised and has a black eye. I rush towards him.

I gasp. "Hey."

He looks at me. He licks his lower lip. He looks embarrassed. "So, how can I help you?"

"If I'm correct, the mob did this to you, yes?" I ask, trying to get a reaction from him. He smiles, looking away.

"The mob?"

"Or is it. . .Volkov? The Russian?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, lady. I was nice to you a few times but it doesn't automatically mean I'll let you be nosy." He says, walking away.

"Then will you keep getting beat up? I can help you, I can take revenge for you! Don't you want that?" I whisper-yell, hitting my hand on the table.

"You better get out if you're not buying a drink, ma'am."

"Fine. Dirty Vodka. Now, you have to answer my questions."

"You're pushing it." He says, beginning to make my drink.

"I'm not asking for much. Really. Just, take me to them. Take me to the Russians."

"You'll get killed if you're not careful. Listen, the walls have ears." He responds sternly.

"So that's confirmation, right? You do know them. Well then, if they're listening, I wanna see Leonid Volkov. Face to face. I'll be back here, and the next time I am, you'll be taking me to him." I grab the glass of martini and gulp it down my throat in a single sip. I drop a $15 bill on the counter.

*****

Getting out of the bar, I dial Benji's number. He picks up at the first ring.

"Benjamin. You won't believe this. You won't believe what I'm about to tell you."

"Well, don't keep me waiting. I'm all ears." Benji responds.

"I met someone. Someone who knows Leonid. It's either he's got tied to Leonid or the mob. Do you know what that means?"

"That you're out of your mind, even saying that in public? Where are you, Andrea?"

I take the phone off my ear, sighing. "Tsk." I continue, "That means, he can either lead me to Volkov or, the mob, Leonid's arch enemy can intact, lead me to him. I'm gonna catch that criminal, Benji. I'll do it like my life depends on it, and how do you even know where I am?"

He responds, "I'm at your doorstep, Drea. Please, come back."

"Did you come with the food though?" I ask him, hoping he brought enough to last at least a few days.