updated
4/4/2014
a weapon only
Mordecai cleared his throat.
"Spasibo za - uh,za … karmannye … chasy," he said slowly. "Eto- uh - damn," he muttered, then checked a small slip of paper in his palm, "Ah. Right. Eto bylo ochenʹ lyubezno s vashyeĭ storony."
He'd spotted them in the lobby of the hotel and marched right up with his newly-learned phrase. Innochka and the two Russians with her tilted their heads to the side, so perfectly in synch that Mordecai was reminded of barn owls.
She smiled. He wasn't certain what kind of smile it was. It could have been pleased, or amused, or having a laugh at his expense. The men behind her, one of which was her rejected suitor Dimitiri, looked perplexed. That, at least, he could easily recognize.
"I'm absolutely sure I said that wrong," Mordecai began.
"Karmannye chasy?" Dimitri asked Innochka, but she ignored him.
"Vy ochenʹ ray! Vy govorite russkiĭ syeĭchas?" she asked Mordecai.
He stared at her. Blinked. "Yes …?"
She laughed. "Nyet."
"No…?"
"To, chto karmannye chasy?" Dimitri asked again, more insistent. Those last two were the words for 'pocket watch'. Dimitri said them much faster and with a difficult inflection but Mordecai could still understand them.
Innochka's back straightened. Her eyes narrowed. She turned on her heel and gave Dimitri a glare that made the third Russian's ears fold back and eyes widen. Dimitri glared right back at her. Mordecai felt a sudden and very strong urge to punch him in the face. His hand was unconsciously heading towards his holster when Dimitri broke eye contact, huffed, and stalked off toward the elevators. The other russian glanced at Innochka before scurrying after Dimitri.
She took a breath, shook it off, and turned her attention so fully to Mordecai that it startled him.
She grinned. "You, ah … you speak Russki?"
"I'm attempting to, yes."
She gave a single nod. "Is good. My English, ah … is bad."
Mordecai nodded. "Yes. It's terrible."
"Tur..?"
"Ter-ri-ble. Bad."
"Oh. Is bad?"
"Your English? Yes."
"Oh," she said, glancing at the floor like a chastened child.
"How was my Russian?"
"You Russki … ?" She seemed to mull it over. "Tur-ri-ble…?"
"Oh. Well, so it is," replied, feeling chastened himself. "Well. Now that we've established that, I believe there is a meeting to attend?" he asked, pointing up.
ooo
The meeting was yet another affair where Marigold patiently waited for the Russians to sort out what they wanted to say and filter it through the gradually more frazzled translator. They could not seem to settle, their voices rising in volume. Innochka made sharp gestures with her hands and spoke in cutting tones. The boss yelled at her. She began to yell back but cut herself short. Dimitri sat next to the boss, smiling smugly. She crossed her arms and legs and settled back in her chair, eyes narrowed. The translator sighed and put his head in his hands.
Mordecai glanced down at the pocketwatch. "I wish they'd sorted this out before we began," he muttered to Asa.
"Seems bad," he muttered back. "Looks like something went wrong with the cargo."
After the warehouse, while Mordecai and Innochka disposed of the bodies, the Russian crew loaded the crates onto a tugboat headed for New Orleans, and from there, South America. Everyone seemed pleased with Mordecai and Innochka's work. If the kind of carnage the two of them doled out wasn't enough to scare their pursuers off nothing would. When the pair returned to the warehouse and Innochka saw that the tug had departed, her demeanor changed. Distracted. No longer engaging him.
The volume of the Russian discussion lowered, exchanged for low muttering among the male Russians. Innochka remained quiet and clearly unhappy. After a few moments the translator looked up from behind his hands, cleared something with the boss, and turned wearily to the men of Marigold.
"Sorry for this delay," the boss said, and gestured for the translator to begin.
"There has been a development," the translator said.
"You don't say?" Asa muttered.
"It appears as though our tugboat was waylaid. It was set afire. Men killed, cargo stolen. But recoverable, we … we think. We believe we know who did this, and where the cargo is now."
Silence.
"You've got to be kidding me," Asa finally said, putting out his cigar.
"If I may," Mordecai began, "how well-defended was the tug?"
The translator turned and asked the group. Innochka lit up like a firecracker, speaking quickly and with emphatic gestures, aiming her words directly at Asa and Mordecai. He watched her face and felt his entire being stop. His skin tingled. His eyes widened.
He understood her.
Not her actual words, those were Russian and obtuse as ever, but he was entirely sure of what she was saying. They sent the tug down the river without adequate defenses. She told them, she warned these idiots that this would happen, but they didn't listen to her. She should have been in charge of the cargo's security. He met her eyes and nodded, feeling a curious glowing lightness in his chest.
Asa, who'd been listening to the translator, crossed his arms and huffed. "Sounds like you boys got hit with the business end of a stupid stick." The translator began to speak but Asa held his hand out. "Don't say that. Ask them what they plan on doing about this?"
The translator asked, then turned back to Asa. "Do you have any intelligence in New Orleans?"
Asa went silent for a moment, thinking. "There … may be some favors we can call in down south, yes. But you'll have to make it worth our while. From this point on you'll include Marigold every step of the way, in every stage of planning. And of course, with added effort and danger on our part there must be a restructuring of our previous agreement. A considerable restructuring."
"We negotiate," the Russian boss said to Asa. "You and I. Yes?"
Asa gave a nod. "Of course. I'll have a quick word with my man, here," he said, clapping his hand on Mordecai's shoulder, "and we'll get to it. If you'll excuse us?" Asa gestured to the door, and everyone filed out save the two of them. When the door shut Asa rubbed his eyes and sighed.
"Jesus Mary and Joseph alive," he said, and re-lit his stubbed cigar. "You believe this shit?"
"I told you this was a bad idea from the beginning," Mordecai replied. "They're clearly incompetent."
"Let's not play 'I told you so' just yet. This may work out for our advantage in the long run." He took a thoughtful puff on his cigar. "Here's what I need from you."
Mordecai straightened, stood at attention. He liked that phrase. Even if he didn't always like what followed it he liked the phrase itself. Straightforward. Clear. He knew how to respond to an order. It settled his universe, for that moment, into something comforting and logical.
"You and hotsy-tosy whatsername - Anna. Annika?"
"Innochka."
"Right. You seem to have taken a shine to one another, work well together. She likes you. I need you to spend some time with her, learn what you can about their operation, and what happened in New Orleans."
"I'm not sure what you expect me to glean from her. We're barely able to communicate as is."
"Get her away from those Russkies and learn what you can."
"Didn't you just stipulate that we're to be fully informed of all planning as of now? I don't know what she'd be able to communicate to me in halting English that her boss and his translator can't."
Asa shook his head. "With the amount of money I suspect is changing hands here I don't trust them for a minute. There's something they're not telling us. With the body count the two of you left at that warehouse any operation along the Mississippi should know to turn tail and run. But they're still coming. Now what do you suppose that means?"
"That there was something of greater value on the boat than they're letting on."
"Exactly. I want you to find out what it is. Get her to tell you."
Mordecai shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure I'm the best person for this."
"Got anyone else in mind? You're the only guy that bitch has smiled at since she got here."
Mordecai opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.
"Don't look so bewildered," Asa said. "For crying out loud, kid, ask her if she wants to get some ice cream and chat her up! It's not that hard. Haven't you ever even tried with a girl?"
Mordecai blinked.
"Eeeesh," Sweet said. "Look, I'm not asking for a federal case here, just see what she'll tell you. Got it?"
"…Got it," he lied.
"Good. Now get going. And send that fatass back in here."
ooo
With Asa speaking to the Russian boss the remainder of the two groups dispersed. Innochka stalked off quickly. Mordecai headed in the opposite direction knowing he would lose her, but thinking that better than asking her away in front of the rest of her party, especially Dimitri. He stopped by his car to retrieve the little white book, placed it in his coat pocket, then decided to head down to the lobby and wait until she showed.
He just hoped she didn't plan to go back to her room on the 8th floor, the entirety of which was reserved for the Russian party, and take a nap. He sat in one of the armchairs across from reception and waited.
When she finally emerged she moved so quickly he almost didn't see her. She wore a long blue coat and walked with her hands in the pockets, her shoulders and head forward, bullish. Her slick black braid fell down her back, nearly brushing the base of her tail.
He leapt to his feet, dropped his hat, stooped to pick it up. "Innochka!"
She spun, looking displeased, but smiled when she saw him.
"Hello," she said.
"Privet," he replied.
She glanced behind them then took him by the arm, scurrying them out of the hotel. "Come," she commanded. He let himself be led, glad she was taking the initiative. Perhaps this would be simpler than he anticipated. Once they were a block down from the hotel they turned a corner. All the while she spoke quickly and fiercely in Russian.
"You seem distressed," he finally said when he could get a word in.
"Eh?"
"You mad?"
She closed her eyes and sighed, gesturing over her shoulder in the direction they'd come. "So stupid!" she said.
He nodded. "I agree. Stupid. Glupyĭ. They should have let you do what you needed to protect the cargo. I know how it is to have idiots standing in the way of your work. Idiots who don't listen when you warn them. It's frustrating."
She nodded though he was certain she hadn't understood most of it. "Yes."
They stood for a moment, silently regarding one another.
"So," he said, trying to sound less awkward than he felt. "Would you like to get some ice cream?"
ooo
He hadn't anticipated having to explain to her what ice cream was, and not being a frequent eater of ice cream himself, he wasn't sure where the nearest parlor was. When they finally found an establishment serving frozen desserts on the bank of the river she smiled and said "Ah! Morozhenoe!"
"Marroh-jen-air?" he asked.
"Yes. Eyes-crem?"
"Da."
"Is good, we …" she pointed to the two of them, "…we speak."
He bought them each two scoops of chocolate ice cream in dessert glasses. They sat outside and watched the river, the early spring sun having turned the day warm. When she took off her coat he took it from her shoulders as was proper, and pulled her seat out for her. She wore a gauzy cream spring dress with blue piping, and a dainty gold locket hung from her neck. She looked sweet and innocent and girlish. If he hadn't seen her nearly behead a man in one stroke he'd certainly never believe her capable of it.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, pointing to a passing lazy riverboat, tiered and white with a bright red paddlewheel.
"Reef-boat."
"Oh yes, you do like the river boat, don't you? Would you like to ride one? Um…" he pointed to the two of them, "you, me, river boat? Da?"
Her face brightened. She nodded and clapped her hands, reminding him in her girlish delight of his youngest sister Rose. "Finish your ice cream and we'll go on a boat," he said, in a brotherly tone he hadn't used in well over a decade, yet it returned to him so quickly that he was thrown into a warm whiplash of familial memory.
They strolled along the boardwalk in the sun until they came upon a riverboat dock, where Mordecai paid thirty cents for two tickets. He watched her admire the delicate filigreed arches and banners as they wandered to the deck overlooking the great red paddlewheel. She watched with great interest as it heaved to a start and propelled the boat into the middle of the river. She rested her arms on he railing and sighed something in Russian, then turned to him.
"Thanks you," she said.
"Thank."
"Thank you?"
He nodded. "Correct. And you're welcome."
They stood in silence for a few minutes, soothed by the gentle and barely perceptible movement of the boat, the warm sun and drowsy humidity, river birds and murmur of conversation nearby. It was almost enough to make him forget his task.
"In Russia," she said softly, "is cold."
"It's far too hot here." He pulled at his collar as though trying to cool himself. "Bleh."
She gave a gentle laugh.
He turned so he could lean his back against the railing but still face her. "Innochka," he began, uncertain. "Can you tell me - I'm curious about the shipment. Can you tell me more about what happened to it?"
She looked blankly up at him.
He sighed, reached into his coat pocket, and retrieved the little white book and handed it to her. She grinned.
"Ah! You learn Russki. Is good," she said, flipping through it.
"Yes," he said. "I need your help. Will you help me?"
She nodded, then gestured to a lounger. They sat side by side, the book between them. "Thank you," he said, then flipped to the index in the back to find the words for "boat" and "shipment" and the phrase "what happened."
Her enthusiasm seemed to fade as she turned more businesslike. "Stolen," she indicated by way of the book. "Not protected. Stupid."
"Why wasn't it protected?" he asked.
It took her a good while and a lot of page flipping but she gradually explained that her operation was overconfident. In Russia they were well connected and untouchable, used to enjoying unchallenged free reign on their home turf. They were cocksure to their detriment, and would not accept this when she warned them of it.
"Why didn't they listen to you?" he asked.
She struggled, looking for the right words. "I am gun," she finally said. "I am weapon only." She made a swiping motion with her hand as she said "only."
He was taken aback. "You seem to be the most competent of the bunch," he said. "Why wouldn't they listen?"
Her face fell. She was quiet for a long time, flipping through the book until she finally sighed, pointed to herself, and said "Because … because woman."
He raised an eyebrow. She'd taken far too long flipping through that book to produce such a simple answer.
"They don't listen to you because you're female?"
She pointed to her temple. "They think, ah …" she flipped through the book, "no mind."
"If that's true it's ridiculous." But it was too ridiculous to be true. Mordecai filed that that away, mentally marking it as the location of a secret of hers.
He took the brook from her and flipped through it, slapping together the phrase "What was on the boat?"
She looked perplexed. "You see it," she said.
"Was there anything else?"
She shook her head.
"Why do they keep coming?"
"Money."
He lowered his voice. "How much is the cargo worth?"
"Thousands," she said. "Thousands."
Mordecai frowned. This was nothing Marigold didn't know. He'd have to disappoint Asa, but he'd expected as much. He hadn't held out much hope of finding new information through Innochka. Even if she did know something she had no real motive to tell him, any fondness aside. He relaxed.
"Thank you," he said.
She nodded and continued flipping through the book. He looked over her bowed head at the shore to watch the people strolling on the boardwalk, shuffling smears of springtime pastel and parasols. Suddenly he felt tired. It wasn't often that he was up during the day and the warmth wasn't helping. That said it was a beautiful day. He didn't get out much to enjoy this kind of weather. To enjoy anything, really.
It would be a shame to waste it.
"Innochka," he said, "Would you like to go to the park?"
ooo