Chapter 1 ~ Killing Time
A man of his word.
Isaak Sirko promised to call Jurg to tell him to release Hannah and I trusted him to do so. I let him lead while I cleaned the deck. Maybe 30 seconds later I heard a shot. I ran directly to Isaak who was lying on the ground, holding his bleeding stomach. "That little shit George", he explained. Isaak had survived two professional hitmen (with my help) and was finally shot by the strip club owner. Ironic.
"The bullet's still inside", he said, "We both know I'm a dead man."
First Isaak wanted so hard to survive that he came to me. The one who killed his lover. He must have loved his life very much, but maybe he realized he loved Viktor more than his life. You could see the resignation, the tiredness in his eyes.
"You never watched Reservoir Dogs. You're gonna be okaaaay", I answered, not letting him get away with this stupid thing.
"I need one last favor...", Isaak asked.
I shook my head and answered grinning: "No last kiss! You're not in Kiev anymore, Dorothy, we have trauma centers and doctors in Miami. I'll get you to a hospital." I reached out my hand and he accepted it looking into my eyes. "I have some pain killers in my car. Even an anesthetic injection if you like..."
He smiled at me. Isaak was a very polite and nice person for a killer. He didn't creep you out like these other psychopaths. The ones who are more like me. He was more human than those other fuckers I met.
I had to confess, this guy got under my skin. Not because Isaak was a gangster and a professional killer and had probably put more people to bed with a pick-axe and shovel than Hannah had. I have never been afraid but Isaak could scare you, even from behind bars with his little story about his grandfather from Siberia. What really affected me was our conversation at the gay bar. The Fucking Terminator was practically crying in his beer after he made sure I couldn't kill him unnoticed. Surprisingly Isaak had opened up to me, told me he and Viktor were lovers, talked about love...
Isaak babbled about Viktor as we drove to the next hospital. I wanted to make a joke and starting singing as he brought up the line 'Everything I do... I do it for you', but I didn't. It didn't feel right. Instead I listened to him, let him prattle on to make sure he was still conscious.
He made me talk about Hannah. How I was afraid, not dying, but of living, of having no control when I was with Hannah. I asked him if it was worth it all, his feelings that cost him everything, maybe even his life and he said yes with such a passion that made me think twice.
As we stopped in front of the hospital Isaak handed me his cell and told me what I had to say to Jurg to release Hannah. He was dozing away, his hand fall almost down. I ran to his side of the car and opened the door for him. Isaak had lost a lot of blood. It was staining the seat of my SUV.
We entered the emergency room with my arm around his waist and his arm above my shoulder. Two paramedics took him and put him on a stretch. I stood there, watching them doing their jobs, my glance not leaving Isaak's half closed eyes. He looked as tired, wrinkled and desperate as he appeared this morning in my apartment
A doctor shooed me away. I left the cell and winked goodbye at him. I thought I saw a nod from him.
It was late at night when Isaak opened his eyes in a hospital bed. It seemd to take him some time to really wake up. He appeared to notice me still tired and fuzzy from the drugs they gave him. Isaak checked his bandage before he looked at me again.
"You look worn out", I said.
"Life does that", Isaak rasped. He must have been thirsty after the surgery.
"I guess it depends on the type of life." I smiled mildly and asked: "Do you still want me to take you to the morgue? Opera playing in the background?"
"What the average temperature in Micronesia?" Now he coughed. Isaak reached for the water at his nightstand. He clenched his teeth in pain. I got up from my stool, filled a glass and gave it to him. He had a big sip.
"I don't know but I guess it's hot." I sat down again. "You're very friendly to a guy who killed your boyfriend." I was still surprised Isaak changed so fast from hating and wanting to kill me to asking me for help and even becoming almost a friend. Almost – he had kidnapped Hannah. The chat in the gay bar seemed to have changed a lot of things.
"Boyfriend. This seems so foreign." Isaak gave me a non-answer.
"No more revenge?"
"I stick to my word. But George, that little fucker, is on my list now. I have to get out of here before the brotherhood knows I'm still alive. I have to call Jurg." Full of enthusiasm Isaak threw his blanket to the side and showed his naked legs and feet. He was in a good shape for a man of age. After knowing what he had done in the Colombians' club, I was convinced he was quite fit. Though it was a strange sight, not seeing him in elegant clothing, no suit, no mocassins. I had never thought of him as gay – he was European! - but now...
Isaak swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, grabbing the mattress. He must still have been dizzy from the surgery.
I looked away, stared out of the window. There were still lights on in some buildings. Miami never sleeps. "Hannah's dead. Jurg too. They killed each other", I finally said.
I could feel his eyes on me. "Never underestimate a woman in love." Isaak dropped the topic. He got up and searched for his clothes. His shirt was ruined, cut. I could see his back, his underwear and his naked, slender legs as he stood there putting on his suit over his hospital dress. Before I came close with Rita I thought of myself as... not interested. I didn't have any emotions. The relationship with her was only a cover for my true nature. After growing more confident with myself as a sexual being I think I could still swing both ways so to speak. I never really gave it much of a thought.
Isaak turned to me.
"Interesting new look of yours." I mentioned.
"Maybe this will be next trend in Micronesia? How does Micronesia sound to you?" Isaak was in a good mood for a guy who had just heard that his right hand Jurg was dead. But I had paid too. With Hannah.
Did he just invite me to come with him? Was he flirting with me? This brought me back to our conversation at the gay bar. We're outsiders, you and I. Yes, yes, we could have been friends. No hiding, no faking. But Argentina? Or Micronesia?
Everyone wants an Argentina, a place where the slate is wiped clean. But the truth is Argentina is just Argentina. Everyone has this illusion from time to time.
Isaak touched his torso where the bullet wound was. He straightened his body, making him look sophisticated, even with his hospital dress.
"You know what I like about Miami? The stark look. There's this Seventies deco vibe." He talked like we were sitting in a nice little cafe at the beach. He looked at me ready to go so I rose from the chair. Isaak looked at me intimate. "I was pleased to see a familiar face waking up." He hesitated and put a hand on my shoulder.
It must have been horrible to hear me saying at the beach bar how I crushed Viktor's skull with a fire extinguisher. I came to the gay bar intending to kill him and found something else... found myself sharing an indescribable state of closeness with the one I was hunting. There was a sense of respect we had for each other: knowing that we both must do what we have to do, even though someone's plans would fail in the end.
"The life I knew it is over. I'm more of a liability than a benefit to the Koshka brotherhood. They've questioned whether a man hell-bent on killing a cop should be in charge. Well, who can blame them? I always thought that loving another man would break my neck and make them turn me down. But I was wrong." Isaak paused. "Along time ago I made some arrangements – funds – for that case. If you could drive me to me car...? It's still at harbor."
"Yes, no problem."
We walked through the corridors without meeting someone. The drive to the harbor was quiet. Isaak looked outside the window thinking.
"Your heart is broken", I stated dry like a medical diagnosis as I parked next to his car. As if I knew how it was supposed to feel.
He turned to look at me. "And yours isn't, is it?"
I groaned.
Isaak was consumed by guilt, drowning in grief. He'll never recover, I thought. I felt the same thing with Rita. It was my fault Trinity killed her. Harrison reminded me of her every day. And now Hannah. It was my fault that Hannah had gotten killed.
"I couldn't tell her..." I didn't know what I wanted to tell her.
"Tell her what?", Isaak demanded to know, pressing me to answer.
"I'm not sure what it was, where we were heading. I'll miss her. I felt... safe with her."
Ultimately satisfied with my stumbled answer he spoke. "A broken heart is the worst injury. Bullet wounds are way more easier. You'll survive it but the heart is never quite the same." His voice sounded weary. "It was nice to meet you." Isaak stretched out his hand and I shook it.
Isaak exited my car. He stood there looking down. I couldn't see what he saw. He moved very fast into his car, leaned forward over the seats and reached for the glovebox where he pulled out a gun. The first shot caught me by surprise, I needed a few seconds to locate the shooter. Isaak immediately fired back through the open window of the passenger seat. A man hid behind a bollard next to the ship on which Isaak had been shot this afternoon. They had sent someone to be sure he was finished.
Isaak grabbed the vacation photo of Viktor and him that was hid behind the sun protection of his car and came back to me. "Flat tire", he barked. "Go!"
I set back and drove off with squealing tires.
It was still dark when I welcomed the Ukrainian now ex-mobster in my apartment. "We're still archenemies. They won't come here." I waved around. "I guess you're familiar with my place. Make yourself at home." I referred to his unexpected appearances yesterday and two days ago. Just yesterday I was at his throat, after that he had a gun pointing at my head and now we were on friendly terms. Crazy.
"Finally welcome." Isaak made a half laugh and stepped inside.
I examined him in the electric light of my living room. Vobk, Ukrainian for "The Wolf", was standing in my little cave. His appearance certainly reminded me actually of a wolf, grey suit, darker grey hair and bright green eyes. His expression fixated, intense and murderous. But not now.
We didn't speak much. I gave him my bed.
My mind wandered back to Hannah. I wouldn't see her again. The thought still hadn't really reached me. It felt like I could drive by her house and meet her as she worked in the greenhouse. I still could see her smile.
I stopped by the bedroom on my way to the bathroom. The door was left ajar. I could hear a voice. Not Isaak. I needed a moment to notice it. It was a mailbox message on repeat. "Isaak, I'm at the airport to Miami. I'll be home soon." No promised hugs and kisses. Nothing personal. Just the little hint with "home".
We both have lost people we loved.
I've learned a lot about love from a man that tried to murder me. Love is anything but logical or controllable. His speech while our ride to the hospital had moved me. Affected me in ways I had never imagined. It left me wondering and fueled my longing for Hannah.