CHAPTER 24:

Jen looked around. They had arrived in a quiet New York suburb. Erica still had the revolver cocked. It had been frequently aimed at Jen and she didn't dare make one move. They had stopped at a house that was barely short of being a mansion. The man who had been with them opened up the front door and held it for Jen and Erica. Jen took a step inside. The house was gorgeous. It had marble tiled floor, and several pieces of art on its walls. There were plants and statues everywhere in the yard. Jen was herded into what looked like an office. There was a man sitting in a large leather chair, his back facing them.

"Erica?" The man said through a very distinct Russian accent. He turned round in his chair. He had short dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard.

"Ivan." Erica strolled towards the desk and kissed him briefly on the cheek.

"You must be Jennifer Mui. Look what you did to my wife's once beautiful face." He held Erica by the jaw, and turned her head rather forcefully to the side, revealing the gun shot wound's scar through her mouth. Jen nodded slightly.

"It's a miracle what dentists can do nowadays isn't it? I bet those are fake teeth you've got Erica." Jen muttered. She knew was already done for, so why not get her angry?

"You're right. It also helps to have money."

"Oh trust me, I would know. Perhaps even better than you." Jen scowled. Erica glowered back at her.

"Hey…both of you shut up. Erica, do what you want with her. Do whatever pleases you. Now, get out of my office. I've got some uh…business matters to attend to." Ivan glared through his cold grey eyes at Jen. Erica took her revolver again and pointed it to a heavy wooden door. Jen opened it, and there was a flight of stairs to the basement.

"Let's go." Erica said, jabbing the gun into Jen's back for the umpteenth time that day.

"Let me guess; you've got a slaughterhouse down here don't you?" Jen said as she ventured slowly down the stairs.

"No…it's just secluded and the walls are sound proof so no one can hear you screaming." Erica replied rapaciously. Jen walked down into the basement. It was old, musty and dingy and dark. It smelt like death. Jen figured this was where the mob's foul dealings were dealt with. And by dealt with, she meant killed.

"Listen, I know where the Russian Mafia's headquarters are. I've had some uh….deals in the past with them. Ivan Smirnov has been the Don for ten years or so. They operate in a mansion in the upper west side." Cooper explained.

"Well, let's go!" James shouted.

"We can't just go with no…weaponry."

"Fiona, you are wrong there for once." Cooper replied. "Look under my seat." Fiona bent over in the back of the cab and looked underneath it. Sure enough there was a long black case. She opened it. There was an AK-47, a Desert Eagle, and an RPG.

"Oh…ok…so…how are we getting in?" She didn't even want to ask where he had gotten the guns.

"You'll see. Get them ready." Cooper ordered. James looked at him with one eyebrow raised up suspiciously. "Trust me." Cooper reassured him. James shrugged.

"All right, each is loaded and ready. How far are we out from the house?"

"About twenty minutes with the traffic."
"Right, well twenty minutes should give me enough time to find the house on Google Maps and see how we could get in."

"You do that then." Cooper replied. He told the address even though he already knew what his point of entry would be. And boy would it be a big point of entry.