Neil is waiting for me when I get back. The smell of his cigarette tells me this before I even see him.
"Hey, mate," he says, "Didya get to see Anya?"
"Yeah, just now," I tell him, "It was great."
He grins knowingly as he extinguishes his cancer stick in the ashtray.
"Mate, I've never seen you this happy before," then the grin drops and he's all business.
"Vinnie's funeral will be in four days, meanwhile, I've got a lead on Ivanovich."
I push Anya to the back of my mind. I hate it, but I need to focus on the matter at hand. Pavel Ivanovich is the head of Basin City's Russian Mafiya and the name that Tony mentioned. The man that the bastard claimed had hired him to infiltrate Vinnie's party.
"What've you got?"
"I did some looking and tracked down our old pal,Yuri."
Yuri Chernyaev is a package boy, with about as much influence within the Mafiya as I have over the moon. Loud-mouthed, largely incompetent with a high opinion of himself, Chernyaev is often overlooked, allowing him to overhear a lot of important information.
Neil and I got ahold of him and his intel Once.
"When do you wanna go see him?" asks Neil.
"Now's a good a time as any," I say.
"Aces!"
********************************************
Two hours later and I'm crouching by the bed in Yuri's apartment in The Projects. When we got here, Yuri wasn't in, so after waiting an hour, we climbed the fire-escape and jimmied open a window. Just
as I start thinking that this is a waste of time, the front door unlocks and I hear voices.
The loud and obnoxious one is obviously Yuri and the other, a female voice. I wasn't expecting him to have company, but we can deal with it,
"Go to bedroom," says Yuri. "I got to get ready."
"Sure thing, Sugar," replies the woman.
The woman enters the bedroom and I recognize her as the Old Town girl with the fire axe yesterday. As our eyes lock, I motion for her to be quiet, keeping my palms open, showing that I'm no threat to her.
"Sorry, Miss," I whisper, "We need to talk with Mr. Chernyaev."
I listen for Yuri in the bathroom next door,
_
"G'day Yuri!"
"What the Fu-"
He's cut off by a meaty slap. We here the sound of a certain Russian being slammed against a wall then slapped again. When the woman and I get to the bathroom, Neil has Yuri in a full-Nelson.
"Sorry to ruin your fun, but we need to talk."
Yuri starts cursing in Russian and Neil tightens his hold.
I turn to the Old Town girl.
"You'd better leave, this could take a while."
"What about my money?" she asks.
I reach into Yuri's jacket as he struggles and pull out his wallet. There's nine-hundred bucks, all of which I give to the hooker along with Yuri's expensive looking watch and an extra fifty of my own for her handcuffs.
She smiles and leaves. Hopefully that'll deter her from coming after us with an axe.
I turn my attention to the red faced Russian.
"Hello Yuri," I say. "I'm gonna get straight to the point. Where's Pavel Ivanovich?"
He smirks.
"I am not telling you, Billy Goat."
"Alright, hard way it is."
WHUMP!
I drive my fist into his pillow-gut and Neil lets him drop to the floor. I cuff one of his hands then haul him back onto his feet. With Neil's help, I drag Yuri over to the shower and shove him into the tub. Looping the handcuffs over the curtain rail, I cuff his other hand, trapping him and jam the plug into its hole. Neil turns the hot water on full.
Yuri gives an amusingly high-pitched shriek as his back gets scalded.
With Neil keeping an eye on our informant, I wander out to the kitchen and come back in with the toaster. I turn off the water and rest the toaster on Yuri's shoulder. His eyes widen as he sees it.
"Let's try again," I say. "Where is Ivanovich. Yuri curses at me in Russian again. I drop the toaster into the water and it lands with a splash. Yuri screams and goes rigid. Nothing happens for a few seconds. Neil sniggers and Chernyaev opens his eyes.
"I think you get how serious I am now. This time, I'm plugging the toaster in. I don't know if the shock'll kill you, but it's gonna hurt."
I flick the switch without actually plugging it in. I'm counting on Yuri to believe otherwise.
"Last time Yuri, where is Ivanovich?"
Yuri cracks like an egg. he's been content with bottom-feeding off the big-wigs like some over-geld, tracksuit & Chain wearing pilot-fish. Now that somebody is actually getting rough with him, it's too much.
Between sobs, he tells us how Ivanovich has gone to ground, laying low from both the cops and Boss Wallenquist.
"What d' ya wanna do with him?" Neil asks after we get what we need from Yuri, who is absolutely terrified.
"Let him live, he's small-fry."
We go, but not before handcuffing him to the toilet, gag him and take his phone. We don't want him warning Ivanovich. I'll come back for him after we're done.
******************************************
Four hours later, Neil and I meet up at Club Pecos. We sit at the bar and order a shot of whiskey each. We do this before every job, our little tradition, to steel our nerves and psych ourselves up. Club Pecos is a real dive: a soup of smoke and sweat, booze-soaked floors and mournful country music blaring out of the tinny speakers, but we've found that this place puts us in the right mind-set for gratuitous violence. Plus Neil rents a room upstairs for storage.
"Ready to ride?" I ask.
"Just a tick," replies Neil, "I gotta use the Gents."
I roll my eyes. Him and his small bladder.
As I wait for him, a huge lug of a man sat down on the stool, which surprisingly held his weight. I'd seen him around a few times, but never really talked to him, so I was surprised when he struck up a conversation.
"Hey pal, you look like you're fixin' to do some killing tonight."
With what we are about to do, we won't be able to avoid it.
"What makes you think that?" I ask.
He flashes a lopsided grin that looks faintly deranged.
"I got a nose for that sort of thing."
"My friend and I are going after Ivanovich."
"The Russian? No kiddin'" he says, obviously impressed. "Say, you suppose I could tag along? Sounds my kind of party."
I shake my head.
"Sorry, strictly Salvatore Family business."
That's not quite true, neither Vincenzo or anyone else know about this.
His heavily scarred face falls.
"Yeah, I get it."
Part of me wants to bring him along, a guy this big would be useful, but I don't wanna drag any more people into my suicide mission, just bronging Neil is bad enough.
"Tell you what though, have a couple of Brewskies on me," I tell him, slapping twenty bucks down on the counter next to him.
The grin returns.
"Hey, thanks pal!"
"De Nada."
Then Neil comes back out and we leave Kadie's for what may be the last time.
