A Debt Owed

Chapter 16:



We continued to push back through the mass of people, even though I had no idea what was happening due to the obvious fact that I couldn’t see past Kirill let alone over the crowd. All I knew was that I was being shoved in every direction possible; it was like being trapped in a pinball machine. More black suits poured out of the building onto the street shielding their employer Heinz Ruger and his politician life-partner from the entire world. Wonderful more men with guns to worry about, any chance of an escape route was disappearing fast.



Our appointed driver’s hand gestures were getting more panicked as the men in black continued demanding as to our location with every strike. He finally caved pointing in our direction, moments later he was slumped motionless against the car. Orders barked out from inside the lead car sending the interrogators straight after us. Kirill grabbed my arm and started sprinting; I only made it a few meters before stumbling.



“Stop, I can’t run in high heels.” He barely gave me enough time to rip my shoes off, all I needed now was to cut my feet on some broken glass or rubbish littering the street.



The screech of speeding tires and pounding of determined footsteps hunted us down the darker side alley; there was no way to outrun them. More hurried instructions were issued from the lead care as the men on foot raised their guns. We needed to get back out to the main street and under some kind of cover. Luckily the narrow streets made it difficult for the cars to follow as we rounded another corner. My legs ached and my lungs burned, sprinting five city blocks wasn’t something I did often.



I was slowing down relying heavily on Kirill to pull me along. He suddenly jerked me into the street café past surprised dinners and staff through to the busy kitchen. Screams, swearing and the smashing of dishes exploded around us as Kirill crashed us through the back door. The protests and devastation worsened by the time the others arrived. I sucked in a few much needed breaths as he surveyed the deserted alley way for further options.



“Do you know how to handle a motorcycle?” Kirill asked already hotwiring the Ducati parked there.



“I can hold my own I guess.”



“Good, you can steer then.” He slid all the way back making room for me.



With helmet fastened and Kirill’s jacket buttoned around me I hoisted up the dress mounting the bike, the thigh high split giving me some ease of moment. He pulled me back against him getting our balance right before clicking off the guns safety raising it at the ready for anyone coming through the door. I revved the engine and the bike lurched forward in a screeching haze of speed and rubber as the two men following burst through the door managing to get a couple of shots off. Kirill returned fire sending them both diving for cover behind the near by rubbish skiffs allowing me to put some distance between us. I cut across the path of the approaching car unaware that it belonged to our pursuers till afterwards.



I straightened the bike determined not to allow the car to pull up along side giving them a clear shot, the second car slowed to pick up its two passengers from behind the café. Kirill was saying something to me but I couldn’t quite hear him as I snaked in and out of the traffic, this unbalanced him sending the bullet he fired astray as it shattered the car’s side view mirror.



It had been raining causing the tyres to splash cold water up my legs as I fought to avoid the puddles and keep from wondering into the path of the oncoming vehicles. The traffic flow had increased which meant we were approaching the main arterial road at last. Adding to all the rest I now had to keep the gunfight away from the populated areas and innocent bystanders. I quickly glance back finding Kirill slamming the fresh ammo clip into the gun, the two cars were still hot on our tails and the gunmen inside were also reloading their weapons. They were lightening fast as he pushed me forward onto the bike using his body as a shield when the bullets flew by.



Time was running out for us to ditch these pains in the arses. I unexpectedly swung the bike around the corner throwing Kirill off balance causing him to thrust his free hand between my legs grabbing onto the seat under my thigh, as wonderful as it was to have his hand there I quickly roped in my wondering thought. We were in serious trouble here. Zeroing in on the lead car’s reflection in the large shop front windows I tapped Kirill’s leg indicating that I was about to turn again before launching the bike up onto the footpath. Kirill took the opportunity to get some shots off sending a barrage of bullets into the side of the car directly behind, blowing out the tyres and windows. The driver wrestled to gain control and the car fish-tailed across the road spewing up sparks as metal grinded into bitumen. The second car slammed on its breaks avoiding the collision as its counterpart recoiled back into its path; emulating some bizarre impromptu mechanical ballet. Yet spurred on by speed the lead car crashed wrapping itself around the power pole pinning both occupants inside the twisted steel and glass cocoon.



We darted across the street travelling the footpath for a second time ignoring the people gathering to gawk at the commotion. The one functional car remaining corrected its course resuming the high speed chase. Kirill motioned for me to take the next corner; I silently complied. There was a distinct change in the surroundings as the quaint orderly shop and cafes brimming with life were swallowed up by much larger building looming over now sparsely lit streets. Kirill fumbled through his pockets for another ammo clip only to loudly swear when he came up empty. Time for some drastic measures, we weren’t going to survive this without bullets. Again his hand was on my thigh claiming the back up revolver he strapped there earlier at the party. His thumb grazed the soft sensitive flesh as cold steel slid along smooth skin threatening once again to shatter my concentration. In one fluid motion the weapon was free from its cosy resting place prompting a sigh of regret to escape my lips. He returned fire at the car behind us; six shots were all that he had left so they had to count. The car jerked sideways but was unable to evade the bullets that riddled the passenger side door sending tiny glass missile splashing inwards piercing flesh and bone. The gunmen dropped his own gun in panic and pain as the numbness and chill started to creep along his body.



The driver struggled with controlling the skidding car pumping the break shouting at the man coughing and wheezing next to him. “Just shut the fuck up and pick up the damn gun!”



He allowed his eyes to leave the road and the target in front to check on his co-worker who had gone quiet. Wide open eyes blankly gaped back at him; it was only now he noticed the scarlet stain steadily spreading across his chest, the small droplets dripping from his mouth also merged with it. Anger and frustration melded together as he blindly reached under his jacket for his own gun. It took a huge amount of focus to shoot with his non-preferred hand and to steer a speeding machine with the other.

Clicking off the safety with his thumb he sent a volley of bullets our way. Kirill loudly swore again knowing that with only two shots left and more back up assassins on the way the odds were very slim that we were going to get out of this in one piece. In the meantime I was occupied with manoeuvring the motorbike out of the pathway of those bullets increasingly aware that our odds of survival were quickly spiralling down to zero; until I felt Kirill’s hand around my neck. He was trying to unclip my helmet. Finally succeeding he glanced over his shoulder finding the car closing the distance between us and its driver lining up the gun again. Only this time the chamber clicked empty. This was Kirill’s chance to end things once and for all.



The car was still gaining speed even though the driver frantically groped around the passenger side floor for the discarded gun. Kirill turned more in the seat, the sudden shift in weight causing the bike to wobble slightly, making one more sweeping assessment of the exact location of the vehicle behind. Curious I watched in the side mirror. The driver disappeared for a split second as he stretched to retrieve the gun with his finger tips, by the time his eyes settled back on the road he had no chance to fire as the unexpected missile hurtled towards him. Having been thrown with enough forced the helmet cracked the windscreen upon impact before bouncing over the car, the shattered glass remaining in place obscuring his view. At first he thought he had been shot and then realised he hadn’t after quickly sucking in a few deep breaths to steadying the nerves. He leaned as much of his body as he could out the open window aiming at us, remembering what he was there for in the first place.



Unexpectedly a semi-truck was slowly reversed out of the alleyway onto the road up ahead; that was all the chance Kirill needed as he bent forward pressing his entire body against me to pull the bike off to the right and around. Simultaneously as we arced across to the other side of the road the car behind had finally caught up and for a moment time seemed to stop as all out gazes locked together knowing that only one victor was coming out of this gladiatorial dance alive. Baffled by our sudden change in direction the gunmen hesitated in firing giving Kirill the clear shot. As the bike levelled out with the car Kirill swung the gun over my head, every muscle straining in his outstretched arm as he pulled the trigger expelling the last two bullets. I couldn’t help it I had to look up to see if he had hit the target. The man’s head snapped backwards before gradually turning to stare out the window at us in silent reverie; blood steadily filled the void where his eyes used to be and trickled down the side of his face like ruby tears.



We skidded sideways as I slammed on the brakes and watched the car continue on its high speed journey where it crashed into the rear of the truck crumpling upon impact. The trucks huge back wheels compressed everything in the front seats into an unrecognisable mangle of metal and flesh before igniting. The occupants of the bigger vehicle just managing to jump free as the fireball wasted no time in consuming all, they were barely visible through the flames and smoke screaming into their mobile phones to the emergency services. Time to make a hasty exit before more people gathered.





The motorbike was soon ditched and we took a taxi back to the hotel, more precisely its underground car park where Kirill lead me towards my SUV.



“We’re not going back to the hotel room?”



He didn’t stop walking. “No, we have everything we need in the car.”



I paused wondering when on Earth did he have the time to pack the car, I went along anyway guessing there was no time left to argue plus we couldn’t risk staying in the one place for too long in case we were followed.



Kirill held open the back door for me. “Best if you sit in the back out of sight.”



I did as told and we sped off to a destination I had no idea of and honestly didn’t want to know about. Stupid of me perhaps, but there have been enough surprises for one night all the fight was rapidly draining from me. This was a hell of a lot of trouble just to get paid for a shipment of guns.



Even for such a late hour the road was full with a steady stream of traffic.

Kirill met my gaze in the rear vision mirror, “There is a bag in the back with some clothes you can change into.”



I reached over the seat finding the sports bag and the clothes inside, including an extra item. Kirill still had his eyes on me and answered my confused expression before I spoke.



“Put on everything that is in the bag.” His voice lowered emphasising the urgency, “It is important that you do Madison.”



He held my gaze for a long while till I was the one forced to look away. The only question I had left to ask was; how much did I trust that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me tonight. Apparently the answer was yes as I shrugged out of his coat, seems I was developing quite the habit of being in various states of undress and semi-nakedness around this man.



Kirill weaved in and out of the slower traffic; the constant swerving hindering me in the struggle with wiggling out of the evening dress. I had already gotten my jeans on underneath thinking it would be easier to get the dress over my head. Kirill kept checking in the mirror that we weren’t being followed and found me this time stuck half way. He reached behind grabbing a handful of material bunched at my waist along my back and pulled as I leaned forward. There was no mistaking that he caught a huge flash of exposed breasts as the dress slid off propelling me backwards. It bought a slight smile to his face. The mongrel.



I rushed to put the t-shirt on after discovering there was no bra in the bag. Why do men always forget to pack the bra? He still held onto the dress as his heavy gaze did me.



“Remember, put everything on.” He pushed again.



“Yeah, yeah I got it.” All items in the bag were packed according to the order they were to be worn. It was so meticulous of him. So controlled. So Kirill. I took out the unexpected item; I had to admit seeing it did worry me and his insistence for me to wear it had me on the verge of panic but I couldn’t let him see that. I glanced around as the urge to bail out swept over me. Was I brave, no crazy enough to jump out of a speeding car? Damn yet again I talked myself into trusting him. Every single time I do that it always ended badly. Really badly.



“Madison.”



My attention snapped back to the front finding his eyes now glaring at me.

“It’s for your protection.”



Protection! Why did I need this kind of protection?



“Madison!” He hissed my name through a clenched jaw turning to face me after stopping the car in the middle of the lane.



The echoing of screeching brakes and blaring horns erupted all around. Great, just great, now I was going to die here on this stretch of road. What I needed was a weapon, even better a way out. There should be something here this was my car after all. My hopes sank when I realised he had probably removed anything remotely useful when he searched the car the day after our initial encounter. Now I was starting to believe I was pretty much screwed here.



“Alright I’m putting it on.” Feeling the frustration pour from his voice and glare I did as ordered. Over that I slipped on the long sleeve shirt and dark hooded jacket. Good no one could tell what I was wearing underneath.



Finally satisfied Kirill started the engine and nothing more was said as we continued on. We turned off the motorway making our way through several back streets along the river heading towards the wharf. I was left alone to wonder what exactly my fate would be once we got wherever we were going.