Vanished in Chicago (Vanished)

“Yes actually,” I tell him, finishing my drink. “Maksim tells me the Russian’s weakness is their penchant for coke. They like to snort the expensive shit, but don’t have the equipment to test it.”

“That’s dumb as fuck. How do they know what they are snorting and selling for that matter?”

“Exactly.” Zef shakes his head at the nonsense, and I concur.

“What did you need from Eco?”

“Well as you know, they run the biggest underground ring there is for import and export. They also do international dealings for trade on weapons. I am trying to broker an alliance between the Valladares Family and The DeSantis’. I figure if I show up having bridged a gap and gained them some allies and an extra foothold, I will prove myself invaluable.” It certainly can’t hurt.

“Smart, big brother.”

“Have you heard back from Maryland and Vegas?”

“Yes. Seems dear old dad or someone has been trafficking young girls right off the street. The families there have been tracking it, but someone is operating from the shadows.”

“Fucking scum.” I spit on the floor. I can’t respect a person who harms women and children. “Well, if you learn of anything else, call me.”

Pulling up to my grandfather's house, I notice that it is eerily empty outside. None of his guards are where they usually are. I pull my gun from the glove box and check to make sure it is loaded.

Getting out, I walk inside and call out to him. When I don't get a response, I know something is amiss. Gun in front of me, I walk toward his office and knock on the door. “Dziadek.” He says nothing. I try once more before opening the door. What greets me, is like a block of ice to my body. He is dead. Stabbed in the back literally. Immediately I pull out my phone and message Zef.

Placing the phone back in my pocket, I check him and see he is still warm. I glance down at the floor and notice a trail of blood drops. Walking alongside the trail, I follow it to the study. “Well, well, well. Doth come the prince of whores.” He is going to swallow his fucking teeth.

“The butcher… is it? What hole did you finally crawl out from? Had to take a tired old man first? Couldn’t just come straight for me, huh?”

“I was busy, you see. You killed my brother and I had to bury him.”

“He touched my woman.”

“You shed the blood of your own family for pussy? Pussy is a dime a dozen my friend. From what I gather, there was nothing special about yours.”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Polack.” I sling the insult at him, knowing it is going to piss him off. I want him to jump so I can leap. As expected, he loses his cool for a second and slams his hand on the desk. I smirk knowing I got under his skin. He wipes his hand through his hair and tries to recover.

“As I was saying, you killed my brother, so it is only fair I killed yours.” What? No. There is no way Zef is dead. I was just with him. My mind is trying to recall if I felt my phone buzz in response to the text, I sent him. Oh God. Not Zef. “Maybe I will use his corpse to fertilize my new garden I am going to plant right outside this door.” I can’t let him know he got me. I have to maintain the illusion I am calm when I am anything but.

“My brother is fine, you filth. It will take a lot more than you to destroy us.” He smiles at me as he twirls his knife around in his hand. I should be focused on ending him, but right now I am sending up prayers to save my brother.

“Your woman will make a great slave before I sell her for more… unused kulva.” His use of the polish word for whore presses a button inside of me. I have heard that used to describe my mother so much as a boy and everyone who ever said it paid for it. To hear him referring to my wife that way is all that I can take. I aim my gun at him, time for composure lost. “Oh, did I upset you? Your father was right. You are led by your dick.” My father might have been right about that, but he is wrong about so many things and this punk talks too much.

“And you are destroyed by your mouth.” My gun blasts and a hole lands in his neck. My aim has always been perfect and now is no different. Right in the carotid artery. I taunt him as he tries to breathe through the blood filling up in his lungs. “Any parting words?” Blood continues to spurt from his mouth, and I push him over onto the floor. He coughs, trying to say something to me, but it is no use. He is drowning in his own blood and being able to watch it is like moonshine. “I will be sure to pass that on to dear old dad.” My parting words before walking out. I grab my phone, not able to wait another second. Jozef’s phone rings three times before he picks up. “Zef. Thank God. Are you okay?”