Page 68 of Sin of Silence

He frowned as he was able to pick up the haunting sounds of an Italian opera. The whole scene felt like a setup, but he had to press on. This was his mission and he’d never failed to complete a mission.

Rather than throw the grenade, he replaced it on his belt and carefully pushed the door open, his gun up and ready. What met his eyes was such an incongruently strange scene compared to what he'd expected, that he stood and stared for several long seconds, finally reaching up to pull his goggles from his face so he could get a better look. Havel covered his back as Jozef stepped into the room.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

An older gentleman, probably in his 70’s, spoke without looking up. Vasiliy. Though Jozef had seen pictures of the man, he hadn’t met Vasiliy in person. He was a robust man, with wide shoulders and a round belly. He sported a snowy white head of hair and a beard that reached halfway down his neck. In his hand was a fine-tipped paintbrush. He was carefully applying red paint to what looked like a doll’s face.

It took Jozef a moment to realize that he was looking at an underground workshop, not a safe room. The room was filled with tables piled high with all sizes ofmatryoshka, or Russian nesting dolls, in various stages of completion. One of the tables was filled with paints, jars, brushes and carving tools. A quick sweep of the room revealed a set of stairs beneath a trap door. Jozef guessed it would lead outside, set purposely away from the cabin in case the occupants needed a quick escape. It would have worked if Vasiliy had chosen to run. There was no one else in the room besides Vasiliy and there were no visible weapons besides the carving tools, and those were safely out of Vasiliy’s reach.

Finally, Vasiliy dropped his paintbrush into a nearby jar, set aside the doll and stood, stretching until his back cracked audibly. Jozef could feel Havel move behind him, bringing his gun up so he was aiming at Vasiliy’s heart.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to communicate in your language,” he said to Jozef, sounding genuinely regretful. “If you wish to speak to me before you kill me, we’ll need a translator.”

Jozef was completely taken aback by Vasiliy’s attitude. Instead of acting like a rat on the run, he was holed up in a wood smith’s paradise, calmly facing death as though it was another to-do on his checklist.

“What do you want to do, man?” Havel asked Jozef, breaking protocol and speaking so he wouldn’t have to put his weapon down.

It was Vasiliy who answered. “I can move away from the table, if you like, and keep my hands raised where you can see them. I promise, I have no motive other than to speak to you before you kill me.”

Though he was tempted to put a bullet in Vasiliy and be done with this strange job, he wanted to hear what the older man had to say. He nodded toward Havel, indicating it was alright to put the gun down. Havel did as Jozef asked, then said to Vasiliy, “Move there.” He pointed. “Hands up and out to the side, fingers spread. If you twitch wrong, I will put a bullet between your eyes. I guarantee I’ll be faster than you if you reach for anything.”

Havel was the fastest man on their team. He was bigger than the rest of them, but able to move like a speed demon when he needed to.

Vasiliy complied.

Once he was standing in the middle up the room, his arms up and out to the side, Jozef relaxed enough to sign while Havel translated.What do you want to tell me?

“Thank you for trusting me.” Vasiliy caught the look on Jozef’s face and added, “Yes, of course you don’t trust me. What I mean is, thank you for trusting me enough not to shoot before I get the chance to speak.”

Jozef gave him the universal ‘hurry up’ signal, which Havel didn’t need to translate.

“Right, right, of course,” Vasiliy said hurriedly. “You’ll be in a rush to leave.” He didn’t sound at all like a man who was facing death. Where was the begging? The bribery? Jozef wondered if he was less frightening than he thought. He glanced at Havel. Nope, the fatigue-clad crew, loaded with weaponry, would look scary as fuck coming through a door, weapons drawn.

“I didn’t order my people to pick up your uncle.” Vasiliy spoke earnestly, the words sounding planned, as though he knew what he wanted to say once Jozef arrived and had been practicing. “I’ve been retired for three years, living in this peaceful section of Poland. I had no idea Krystoff had been abducted until my son called to tell me.”

Jozef frowned his disbelief. Yet… some of what Vasiliy was saying rang true. The older man hadn’t been seen in public in years. Rumours had abounded through the Underworld circles that he was in hiding, embarrassed after being pushed out of the game by the other Vory. The fact was, Vasiliy had never been an effective mobster. He was weak.

Or that was the rumour. Jozef was beginning to wonder if it was something else. Maybe Vasiliy had too much heart for the mob. His cabin was filled with warmth: quilts, books, music. His workshop showed a love of manual labour and fine carpentry.

Jozef had been told his entire life that this man was dangerous but stupid. He’d never questioned it before, just like he didn’t question orders coming from his uncle.

Did you send those men to my club to negotiate with us?Jozef demanded, while Havel translated.Did you get my message?

Vasiliy looked confused. “I did not. What message did you send?”

Several fingers, one head. Jozef didn’t need to expound, anyone in the mob would understand he was being quite literal.

Vasiliy nodded thoughtfully, his face reflecting some surprise, but not shock. As though he was hearing about the club incident for the first time, but he wasn’t completely blindsided by the news.

“I hope you didn’t kill anyone I like,” Vasiliy mused.

Jozef was done messing around.You know why I’m here; I won’t leave without completing my mission. Tell me what you wanted to talk about, or we’re finished here.

Havel translated.

“You can protect her,” Vasiliy said, his voice going from calm to anxious. “She’s young and impetuous, but very, very smart; an incredibly talented genius. With every job she learns more, perfects her routine. She’s striking out on her own, but she is still too inexperienced to be allowed to run around unsupervised. She’s filled with anger and I worry that she will become reckless.”

Who?Jozef was getting angry. He hated when people talked in circles; it made communicating so much more difficult. He wanted to tell the man to hurry up and fucking spill so Jozef could kill him already.

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