Page 61 of Family Ties

“Let's focus on this. We’ll start with baldy.”

Chapter Forty- Enzo

“You know, if you want him to talk, you might ask a question instead of just beating him senseless,” Andy suggests from the corner of the interrogation room. Baldy’s face is bloody, his nose is crooked, and he’s sporting two black eyes. I haven’t said a word since I stepped into the room.

“He knows what I want, and what he needs to say to get me to end this. Don’t you, baldy? Or do you prefer Mr. Mikhaylov?”

“I’ve met preschoolers who have better insults,” Ivan spits at me. His Russian accent is thick, which matches the information Andy found about him. Officially, he came to America on a work visa. The restaurant he was a chef at was a cover for a hitman operation. Somehow, he’s gained citizenship. I wonder what politician he has blackmailed for it.

“And I’ve met preschoolers smarter than you.”

Another kick to the gut. It’s therapeutic, and that’s the only reason I haven’t switched over to my tools and the more creative methods of torture. I give Andy’s suggestion the benefit of the doubt. Maybe our contract killer needs a little more direction to open up.

“How did you end up unconscious on my living room floor?”

He doesn’t answer. He tries to spit at me, but his mouth is so swollen it doesn’t properly work. As much as I've enjoyed the interrogation so far, Emma and Matteo are missing, so I need some real fucking answers out of this shithead.

I don’t move him from the chair, I just knock it to the ground and cover his face this a cloth. When he realizes what’s happening, he struggles against me. Andy passes me the hose.

After thirty seconds, I kink the hose and stop the water, ripping the cloth off his face. “How did you end up unconscious on my living room floor?”

“It was that fucking bitch. She threw a vase at my head.”

It doesn’t take much to identify who he means by “that fucking bitch” and while I’m not fond of the language used to describe her, I’m proud of her for being able to take out a man so much bigger than her. Once I get her home, I’ll reward her heavily for it.

“What were you doing in my house to begin with?”

He doesn’t answer right away and I don’t hesitate to throw the cloth back over his face. When he feels the wet fabric, he scrambles to answer. It’s too late. The water from the hose is cold as it drenches the rag covering his face. When I’m done, he gasps for breaths of air.

“Answer quicker when I ask you a question. Why were you in my house?”

“We were supposed to grab the bitch and her bitch-ass kid. Keep them alive and bring them to a warehouse where we would collect our money.”

He needs to learn to watch his mouth. I’d make him wash it out with soap, but since he won’t be leaving this basement alive, its a moot point. I’ll cut his tongue out instead.

“Who gave you the job?”

“I don’t know his fucking name, but he said he would make sure the house was empty, and grabbing her would be a straightforward job. Said she’d probably come with us willingly to get away from her dickhead fiancé.”

I bite my tongue. I might have been wrong in saying Oleg is the man who hired him, seeing as he knows about Matteo. Still, Oleg called for a meeting at the same time the kidnapping happened. It’s too much of a coincidence not to be connected.

I hate to think one of the made men we allow inside of the house, someone who has earned our trust, is suddenly betraying us to help Eric get in contact with Oleg, but it's the most likely explanation. Oleg and Eric must be in on this together somehow.

“If you have any more helpful information for me, I’ll show mercy and kill you by putting a bullet between your eyes. If not, I’m going to have one of my men spend the next several hours in here with you, bringing you right to death’s doorstep before pulling you back until I get bored. And then we’ll get you a nice pair of cement boots and drop you in the ocean. Which is it going to be?”

I can see the panic in the man’s eyes as he scrambles for information. Anything he can give me to help him escape a fate worse than death.

“We were supposed to take the girl upstate, towards the border. I think whoever we were bringing her to intended to take her to Canada.”

My irritation grows with the information. Whoever it was, Eric or Oleg, they had intended on getting her out of my reach. We have little presence in Canada, though we are actively trying to establish one. It’ll be significantly harder for me to get her home if she’s being kept there.

“I don’t know if that’s good enough. Anything else?”

I can see the moment the man finds the information I need. A sly smile slips onto his face like he knows he has a bargaining chip that could save his life. “Yeah, part of the deal for Santiago was a house in Kansas, somewhere he could use to get away from the mafia life. I’ve got an address you could use to get a name.”

“In Kansas? That’s all the information I needed.”

Panic flashes across his face when he realizes he gave away too much information and lost his bargaining chip. He earned his easier death with that piece of information. The begging dies on his lips as I pull the trigger.

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