Dmitry's Closet (35 page)

     Agosto listened attentively but kept his eyes on the restaurant. "I'm sure that you're more than that. She's just a teenager. That's the way that they are."

     "No, I'm her ATM. She told me." Sorrello confirmed. "What about you? The job doesn't affect you and Ivy?"

     Nicola smiled revealing his deep dimples. "Like you wouldn't believe." He nodded his head. "But I found a way to keep the peace at home
for the most part."

     "
Really?" Sorrello was all ears.

     "Yeah. Keep her pregnant." They laughed. "No, I'm just kidding. I… I talk to her. You know. I finally just started to let her in. I'm an open book now. So, she feels better when I'm late coming home at night or when I don't come home at all. She knows that I'm not out chasing ass."

     "That's it?"

     Agosto took a few of the peanuts from Sorrello.

     "And… I... I pamper her?

     "Pamper her?" Sorrello smirked.

     "Yeah, excessively. This one cop shrink I was seeing after I shot a guy said that if I spent as much energy doing stuff for her that I spent doing for the force, I would be more." He looked over at Sorrello, who listened with his mouth wide opened. "Never mind."

     "No, go on. I've got a girlfriend. It might help. Really."

     "Uh... okay... okay. She said I would be more satisfied if I knew that I was putting more work in at home than I was putting in on the force. It would balance itself out when I had to stay away from home."

     "Did it?"

     "Well, she doesn't make me sleep on the couch, and she acts like its nothing wrong. So, yeah, I guess it does work."

     "What kind of pamperin'?"

     "Stuff." Agosto laughed and hunched his wide shoulders. "You know... painting her toe nails, washing her hair, cooking her dinner."

     "You sound like a fucking maid."

     "It teaches you humility."

     "I don't know that I could do that. It sounds
emasculating!"

     "Okay. When was the last time a woman asked you to give her a baby?"

     Sorrello coughed. "Never."

     Agosto laughed. "That's emasculating. My wife... she can't get enough of me. So, I must be doing something right."

     Sorrello nodded. "Yeah, but damn. I mean, painting toe nails?"

     "She can't reach down that far when she's really pregnant." Agosto explained.

     "And she asked you to
give
her a baby?"

     Agosto looked over and smiled. "I'm telling you. You start washing a woman's hair and shit, she loses her mind."

∞♥∞

     The council had received instruction the night before to meet at
Mother Russia
tonight to discuss "new developments" within the Medlov organization. Rumor had it that they were meeting about Ivan. However, some other people suggested the meeting had to do with Anatoly. Regardless, they all were escorted by their bodyguards after dusk, carted in large black SUVs to the front of the restaurant.

     One by one, they filed out of the trucks with hoards of men and were escorted into the building and into a private dining hall secluded in the back of restaurant. They looked around curiously. They were not meeting in the basement? Could it be that there was good news to share?

     Nicolai and his men were especially concerned. Had they not shown up, everyone would have known that they were traitors, and the wrath of Dmitry would have not only fallen on them but also their innocent families. It was imperative to come tonight, to state their case, deny any wrong doing and protect their loved ones. Everyone showed up except Ivan.

     This was not shocking to Dmitry. He knew is brother well and had decided against meeting in the basement, because he knew it would be ripe for an ambush. He also knew that there were two officers in an unmarked squad car watching their every move. In fact, he had orchestrated this entire event around the fact that those men would be there tonight to witness his brother's revenge and to give him an alibi for what was sure to be a blood bath.

     Dmitry knew that many of the men around the table were traitors. Regardless of the familial war going on between he and his little brother, there would have to be time to settle the score with the backstabbers who had gone completely against the code.

     Anatoly and his men made sure that the entire restaurant was secured. The waiters and waitresses had all been excused for the day. And the men were all alone. It was time to get down to business.

     Dmitry passed the bottles of wine to the men and looked at his watch. Suspiciously, they all looked around wondering what would happen to them.

     "I brought you here for many reasons, brothers." Dmitry looked over at Anatoly. "It is ironic that I call you brothers when in fact my own sibling has not accepted my invitation to dine at my table tonight. But none the less, we are here like we have been for many years."

     "We've heard rumors," one of his council members said. "Is it true that you were arrested last night?"

     "It is very true." Dmitry smiled.

     There was a rumbling of voices.

     Dmitry raised his hand to silence them.
"However,
I was released, because they have nothing on me. I am
innocent."
His jaw clenched. "Speaking of rumors, I have also heard them. Other ones." He looked at Nicolai. "It seems that yet another one of you has decided to go against me in hopes to overturn our little organization and take control of everything that I have worked so hard to build. This constant backstabbing has to stop. It may be time to re-evaluate
certain
members of the council."

     "I'm sick of this shit," one of the loyal council members said, slamming his crystal goblet on the table. "Who is the prick?" The vodka splashed against his hand.

     Dmitry smiled. "We'll get to that in due time." His wicked stare swept the room.

     "For now, I'd like to talk to you about Anatoly."

     The men looked over at the young man, standing in the corner of the room in a black suit, hair clean cut and guns concealed. His eyes sparkled with excitement.

     "Come here, Anatoly."

     "Yes, Papa," Anatoly responded, stepping forward from the other men who watched on confused.

     "Papa?" one of the council men repeated. "He is now...a Vor?"

     Dmitry stood up and moved out of his seat at the head of the table. He waived at the seat and had Anatoly sit down. The room became silent. Every eye was on the young man, on his dramatic transformation.

     "Anatoly is not only Vor, he is my biological son." Dmitry laid his hand on his son's broad shoulder.

     The men looked at Dmitry standing beside Anatoly and soaked in the news. Suspicions put to rest, both father and son smiled at the collective council.

     "What is this?" Nicolai snapped. "Now, we're supposed to believe that you actually have a son? You have treated that boy like your slave for years. He would say anything that you wanted him to say. He is your lapdog."

     Dmitry threw a piece of paper on the table. It was the DNA report certified by a Russian doctor that they all knew well. 99.999%. It was certified, sealed and signed.

     "The resemblance is there," said another council member. "I would not have believed it before."

    
"Dah,
it is... " another one agreed.

     "So, what does this mean?" Max asked, unmoved by the show.

     Dmitry leaned against the table. "The high council of Moscow and New York have approved Anatoly. He is a Vor now. He will no longer be my foot man, my
lap dog."

     "And you want him to sit at the table with this council? There is little room for another," Max said in a matter-of-fact tone.

     "No, I don't want him to sit by you. I want him to lead you." Dmitry answered. "Here as my predecessor."

     The men shuffled around in their seats.

     Dmitry did not speak immediately. Instead, he poured himself a glass of vodka and let them men grumble. He drank quickly. Then quietly placed the glass back on the table.

     "Max...Nicolai... I don't think that you have to worry about Anatoly and his new position. You won't be here long."

     Anatoly took his gun from its holster and gave it to Dmitry.

     "Both of you have been conspiring against me since I left for Russia. I have tapes," he turned towards the rest of the council. "They were planning on Ivan killing me, and they were supposed to kill all of you to usher in a new reign of the Medlov family."

     All eyes turned to Max and Nicolai who sat together.

     "It's a lie," Nicolai said, denying it all.

     "Is it?" Anatoly asked.

     "It is," Max said standing up. "I swear to you. You can't believe a thing that Ivan says. True, he did come to us, but we turned him down cold." His voice was trembling.

     Nicolai looked at Max, stunned that he had admitted to any part of the discussion.

     "Lying
suka"
one of the council spat.

     "The tapes don't lie," said Dmitry. He shook his head and grinned deviously at the men. "And neither do I."

     "Take them away," Anatoly ordered to his men, who quickly grabbed both men kicking and screaming. They dragged them to the stairwell where they all disappeared behind the large door.

     "Remember, it's about what you don't have to do," Dmitry instructed Anatoly.

     "He's young," another council member said unconvinced.

     "He's loyal," Dmitry said proudly. "He has served you all well as my understudy, and he will serve you still as your leader. He has been approved. He has been steadfast. And gentlemen, he is my choice."

     The room became silent again. The men thought to themselves.

     "Agreed," one man finally said sighing. "I assume that he will lead under your tutelage or do plan to completely disassociate yourself from all that you have built."

     "I will continue to be all that he needs to be, but he is ready. He knows everything there is to know."

     "And nothing changes with our percentages?" another asked.

     "No," Dmitry said quickly. "Nothing changes period, except that I won't be here in Memphis anymore."

     "Where do you plan to go?"

     "Away," Dmitry answered. "Prague."

     The men looked up. Dmitry waited for the response that he so desired. While he could demand their support, to know that he had their approval and their word to follow his son would mean so much more.

     "We were once young men. I think he will do well," another council member said. "Let's give it a vote. Shall we?"

∞♥∞

     Ivan stood in the living room listening to the entire conversation taking place in
Mother Russia.
While Cory had not managed to plant one successful wire, Ivan had successfully planted many the night before because of little Tatiana, the barmaid, whom he had been sleeping with since he arrived in Memphis. It had only taken him a few dollars and promises of a future together to get her to bow on her worthless knees and give him whatever he wanted.

     However, he was absolutely flabbergasted now. The little shit that he despised was his nephew. Ivan swore in Russian and kicked the table. He should have known. It should have been apparent to him. Dmitry trusted no one, but he had allowed the boy to be so close.

     Although he would never admit it, there was a strange solemn void in Ivan's chest now, more so than ever. All he had ever wanted was a family. And in a way, he had one through these two men. It was a shame that he would have to kill them both.

     Ivan looked over at Dorian, still breathing hard from his fit.

     "Now," he ordered, turning away from the monitors. At that moment, Dorian typed in a code on the laptop and pushed ENTER.

∞♥∞

     Agosto and Sorrello watched on carefully, blind for the most part of what was going on inside the restaurant. They waited patiently, not knowing what to expect.

     Sorrello smacked loudly on his peanuts while Agosto stared out the window. He listened to the sports commentator report on the game going on over at the FedEx Forum. The home team was winning. That had to be a good sign.

     "No movement yet?" Sorrello asked, texting on his cell phone.

     "Nope," Agosto growled. "Tonight could be a bust." He got on his radio. "Do you have a visual from your position, Eagle One, over?"

     "No movement, over." The voice replied from the radio.

     "Come. On," Agosto vented, hitting his steering wheel.

     Just as Agosto laid his head back on the cushion of the leather seat and wiped his tired, watering eyes, a loud, earth-shaking boom erupted from the restaurant, following a plume of smoke and fire.

     The intensity of the blast knocked the front windshield out of their car. Broken glass and debris flew in meeting them face on.

     Car and fire alarms rang out instantly down the street. In a daze, Agosto pulled his head up off the steering wheel and pealed glass from his face. He looked over at Sorrello, who was knocked out. He tried to speak but his throat felt singed. He coughed and wheezed..

     "Sorrello." He nudged the unconscious man. "Sorrel-lo!" he finally screamed as he pushed past the pressure on his lungs. He shook the man violently, but Sorrello did not budge. Agosto spit blood out of his mouth and got on his radio.

     "Officer needs assistance." He coughed. His head swam in confusion.

     "Officers are on the way to your location," a voice responded.

     Agosto opened the door of the mangled car slowly and crawled out on his hands. In pain, he lay out on the ground, against the hard, cold concrete and shards of broken glass and stared up at the starry night. He could hear police and fire sirens in the distance. Pulling himself up, he leaned against the car door and gathered himself.

     The world moved in slow motion. He could barely hear the people running and screaming past him. He ran his hand over his hair and down his bloody face. He stood up and looked over at the yellow, red flame coming from the front of
Mother Russia
and saw the smoke billowing up above it.