Page 29 of Zafira

The assassin merely smirked. “I work alone.” Regardless of his taunting smile, he jumped slightly when Bogdan slammed his fist down hard on a nearby table.

“Marcire all ‘inferno! We know someone sent you. You fucking tell me who, or I will beat it out of you.”

Refusing to be intimidated, the man sneered with a laugh, “Go ahead and try. You’ll get nothing from me.”

Arian’s fist closed around the assassin’s long hair to yank his head back sharply, eliciting a small grunt of pain. With his face mere inches from the assassin, he hissed, “Unless you talk, you’re of no use to us alive.”

The assassin set his jaw stubbornly. “Then do you fucking worst, but I’ll tell you shit.”

“Beating him up and pulling his hair isn’t going to achieve shit,” Bogdan growled as he drew his dagger and pressed it up to the assassin’s throat. “Talk fuckface. I want a name.” He ignored the man’s wincing as the sharp edge sliced through his skin. The blood seeping from the cut quickly soaked his shirt like a blooming carnation.

Still, the assassin laughed mockingly, proving why he had been chosen for the daunting job. The sound was cold and ruthless as it echoed off the dungeon walls. “Do what you will. I’ll die before I break my oath.”

“He’s not going to talk. My patience has run out. Just kill the motherfucker. I’m done wasting my time, especially since we all know who’s behind this.”

Bogdan was surprised at Arian reaching the end of his tether so quickly. He was the one who could stretch out a questioning for hours on end. This time, he wanted out of the dungeon within thirty minutes.

“Yeah, we know whose tune he’s dancing to, Arian, but I want to know where to find that bastard. I’m not going to do the same tango as we did before with Maranzano. You stopped Andrei that day from killing him. This time, I’ll make fucking sure he won’t be coming back.” His gaze sharpened. “To do that, I need to know where to find that bastard before the next prick he sends has a lucky strike and kills your mother.”

“What do you propose, Tata?” Andrei asked as Arian and Bogdan retreated from their captive. He slowly circled the bound man, who watched him with growing trepidation. Andrei’s questioning techniques were well-known among assassins in the criminal world but would be preferable to the ubiytsa smerti taking charge. He flinched visibly as Bogdan picked up two knives and started sharpening them over a whetstone. The grating sound echoed ominously through the dank room.

“For the quickest way to get him to talk, I have a mind to revisit an old Viking torture method.” Bogdan’s eyes flicked over the assassin’s muscled frame. “He’s a strong fucker, so he’ll last long.”

“Is it gonna make him talk before he dies?” Vadim interjected from where he leaned against the door.

“If he doesn’t, he’d be a fool.”

“There’s no torture that’ll make me talk, fuckface, so you might as well kill me now. I’m not ratting out anyone.” His bravery evaporated as the giant man turned and walked closer.

“Thanks for the offer, but where’s the fun in that?” Bogdan pressed the sharp point against his face, cruelly cutting through the skin, leaving his chin to gape open wide. “Nawh, since it’s been a while, I aim to have some fun today.” He looked at the three men over his shoulder. “Ever heard of the Blood Eagle procedure? It’s rather a graphic and disturbing process but very rewarding when the wailing and pleading starts.”

“Isus Hristos, Bogdan, that’s gruesome. I hope you’re gonna clean up after you’re done,” Vadim protested. “There’s no way I’m picking up lung tissues and ribs off the floor.”

“No need. I’ll just send in the dogs to feed on his insides.” Bogdan continued to circle the chair.

“Wh-What the fuck is a Blood Eagle procedure?” For the first time, the assassin showed a frisson of fear.

“See, that’s the problem I have with these youngsters of today. They have no clue of proper assassination methods other than shooting someone. Tsk-tsk, shame on you for giving our profession such a bad rep, fucktard.” Bogdan methodically started cutting his shirt from his body. “Usually, this process is done with your victim lying face down on a table, but since the chair has no back section, I’ll just do it this way.”

“Fuck! Jesus Christ!” the man screamed as Bogdan sliced a thin cut along his vertebrae.

“Come now, that’s merely a marker so that when I make the deep cut, I have the right angle.” Bogdan walked around to face him.

“Wh-What are you going to do?”

“What does it matter? You said you’re not gonna talk, so I’m not going to bother asking any questions. No... I’m doing this purely to have some fun.” He tossed the knife in the air and caught it without looking at its trajectory. “But I’m nothing if not a good sport, so I’ll explain the process to you. It’s quite an intricate procedure, but since I’m not a surgeon, I can’t guarantee it’ll be done with any finesse.” He smirked as the man squirmed in the chair. “We never asked. Do you have a name, or do you prefer fuckface?”

“I’m called Moartea Neagra,” he sneered and shifted uncomfortably when the blood seeping from the cut down his back pooled on the chair below him.

“Ah, the Black Death.” Bogdan snickered, “I’ve heard of you. It seems you’re the one chasing numbers, aiming to have the most kills recorded.”

“Isn’t he the one who takes any job, even the low-paying and easy ones, just so he can add to how many kills he has under the belt?” Andrei interjected with a tone of disgust ringing in the prisoner’s ears.

“The one and only.” Bogdan tapped the two knives together. “So, back to the Blood Eagle. Once I’ve made the cut along your vertebrae, I’m going to start pulling your lungs and ribs out through the wounds. Can you guess why it’s called Blood Eagle yet?”

“Fuck you! You can’t do that!”

“Once I’m done, it’ll form an outline that looks like an eagle’s spread wings.” Bogdan continued unperturbed and then barked a laugh at Black Death’s expression. “The question is how long you would last or if you do hold on until the very end, how soon after would you die, because believe me, the procedure isn’t only agonizing, but I’m going to draw it out as long as I can. Eventually, your body will shut down from a combination of organ damage, shock, and blood loss. Either way... at least one of us will have some fun in the coming hours.”