Nadya’s Nights: Road to Vengeance – Chapter One

Nadya’s Night: Road to Vengeance

Night One: A Hard Night’s Work

Chapter One: Gone Pubbin’

by Indy McDaniel

Copyright © 2009 Indy McDaniel

The London pub was shady in multiple meanings of the word.  The lighting could be described as minimalistic, with a handful of the bulbs either burnt out or unscrewed.  The only area that was remotely well lit was the bar and that was just so that the bartender, a rail-thin man with a receding hairline and pencil-thin mustache by the name of Strictly, could see enough to mix his drinks.  Even with the aid of the extra light, he tended to make his concoctions wrong, either too strong or too weak.

Not that it mattered.  People didn’t go to the pub for its fine dining and drinks.  They went there because the bartender was just as nearsighted when it came to illegal activities as he was in making his drinks.

As Nadezhda Valentina entered, she turned her head slightly, letting her eyes scan the interior.  At the moment, the pub was sparsely populated.  There were a group of four roughnecks sitting at one of the tables, working their way through a pitcher of ale.  They gave her a brief look before turning back to themselves and continuing their conversation.  Nadya could recognize the language as German, but aside from that, she wasn’t able to follow it very well.  The only German she really knew were the curse words, which were fun.  Aside from that, she knew a few handy sentences, but definitely not enough to carry on a conversation with a native speaker.

At the bar there was Strictly, wiping clean a mug, and a couple.  The guy was relatively large and was already swaying a bit, clearly drunk.  His female companion was hunched down, seemingly embarrassed by her boyfriend’s behavior.  She had blonde hair; the same shade as Nadya’s, but that was really the only detail she could make out.

Aside from the waitress, the only other occupant of the bar was the man she’d come looking for.  He had dark, stringy hair that went down to his shoulders and a gaunt face. He went by the name Lonestar.  Nadya was of the opinion the man had seen too many American movies.  Still, as an informant, there were worse around.

He was sitting in a booth on the other side of the table of Germans, already leering at her with his crooked teeth exposed.  Nadya let out an annoyed sigh. The problem with Lonestar, aside from his ridiculous name, was how he constantly tried to get into Nadya’s pants.  After numerous smacks, knocks, and full-on sluggings, he kept at it.

Rounding the table of Germans, she headed over to him.  The manila folder in her hand contrasted against the black leather of the jacket she wore.  She waved a hand at the waitress and pointed to the table, motioning for a drink, then looked down at her informant.

“Lonestar,” she said with a nod.

Lonestar’s grin widened before he spoke, his voice tinged with a thick cockney accent.  “Nadya, love of my life, it’s always a pleasure.”

“Keep it in your pants, asshole,” she said, sliding the chair across from him out and sitting down.  “I’m here for information.”  She set the folder on the table and slid it across to him.

As Lonestar opened the file, Nadya reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and Zippo lighter.  Lighting a cigarette up, she took a long inhale and let the smoke blow past her lips, watching Lonestar’s face as he looked at the series of photographs contained within the folder.

“Bloody hell, love,” he said, his voice low.  “What’re you getting me into here?”

The waitress set Nadya’s pint down in front of her.  Nadya tossed a couple pounds onto her tray and she disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.  “Don’t be a fucking pussy,” she said, lifting the mug.  “Just be glad you didn’t have to clean up the goddamn mess.”  She took a long drink of ale, enjoying the taste of it running down her throat.  It wasn’t nearly strong enough, but she wasn’t interested in dulling her senses.  Just taking the edge off.

The pictures showed a variety of angles on a very gruesome scene.  They’d been taken in a small house a few miles away.  It had been one of Belikov’s stash houses.  There’d been an exchange scheduled for earlier that evening.  Instead of money changing hands for high-grade narcotics, Vlad’s men had been torn limb from limb.

Nadya had been on her way to the meet but some punk with an American accent had lifted her wallet.  She’d given chase but the son of a bitch gave her the slip.  When she’d arrived, the shit had already gone down.  There was no sign of what had done the deed.  Nadya called Vlad and waited for the clean-up crew, chain smoking and keeping a hand on her gun, just in case whatever decided to come back for seconds.

“Christ!”

Lonestar’s voice drew Nadya back to the present.  She tapped ash into the already overflowing tray on the table.  “Just find out what did it.”

He looked up at her, the fear in his eyes evident.  “Off-hand… something inhuman.  Something fearsome.”

Nadya rolled her eyes.  “Thanks for that brilliant analysis.  I want a name.”

Lonestar closed the file, careful not to touch the pictures, then pushed it away, leaning back in his chair.  “Sure thing, love.  I’ll get right on it.”

“Tonight,” Nadya told him, narrowing her cold, greenish-grey eyes.

His brow rose as his eyes widened.  He really didn’t want this assignment, Nadya could tell.  Tough shit.  “What’s the rush?” he asked.

“Vlad wants to send a message to whatever disrespectful cocksucker had the nerve to piss in his pool,” she said then nodded.  “Personally, I couldn’t give a fuck about messages.  I just want to slit the throat of whichever fucker killed comrades of mine.”

Lonestar nodded.  “Fair ’nuff.”  He still didn’t look all that eager to follow through on her request.

Someone else in her position might try to flirt with him.  Play on his attraction towards her.  That wasn’t Nadya’s style, though.  Instead, she leaned forward and gave him a glare, shoving the folder forward into his lap.  The photos spilled out, fluttering to the floor around him.  “A name.  Before midnight.  Or else I make what’s in those pictures look like a fun night at the fucking movies.  Got it?”

He nodded quickly; still fearful but now she was causing the fear.  Which meant he’d do what she wanted.  “Got it.”

Nadya chugged down the rest of her pint and finished off her cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray.  “Alright.  Call me as soon as you have anything.”  She got up and turned, running smack into the drunken man who’d been at the bar when she’d entered.  She took a step back and looked up at him.  “‘Scuze you, asshole.”

The drunken man grinned sloppily at her and tried to grab at her breasts.  Nadya easily smacked his hands aside.  “The fuck’s your problem, dickhead?”  She tried to glance over to the bar where the asshole’s girlfriend had been, but she didn’t see her.  Fine time to take a piss, lady…

“C’mon, baby…” he said in heavily slurred English.  “You know you want it…”

“Mate,” Lonestar called.  “Trust me, you really don’t want to – “

The guy wasn’t listening and came at Nadya again, more forcefully.  Sighing, she took a step back and kicked him in the gut, sending him flying backwards.  His arms pin wheeled as he tried to find his balance.  As he’d been having trouble finding it before Nadya kicked him, he had no chance of finding it now and wound up smashing into the table of Germans, knocking their drinks into their laps.

“Tried to warn ya…” Lonestar muttered.

The large man lay on the table for a few moments before his weight caused the table to collapse underneath him.  By then, the Germans were on their feet, looking from the man who’d come crashing into them to their ruined drinks and wet laps to the diminutive blonde girl who’d caused the trouble.

The uneasy truce in the pub seemed to be about to shift into all out mayhem.  Nadya looked at the group of men glaring angrily at her and sighed.  “Fuck it.  Been awhile since I had a good ole fashion pub fight…” She tilted her head to the side, cracking her neck.  “Let’s dance, fuckers…”

As they advanced on her, she hopped back and reached behind her, finding her empty mug on the table.  She gripped it firmly as they came closer.  As the first German got within striking distance, Nadya brought the mug around and smashed it into the side of his face. The glass mug shattered and the man’s head snapped back, blood already seeping from the side of his head and down his face.  The guy stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, unconscious.

One down…

The other three men seemed surprised by her sudden violent attack.  She brought one of her legs up and kicked out, slamming the bottom of her boot against the second man’s gut and doubling him over.  He coughed and stumbled away.

The next in line’s surprise was quickly wearing off, returning to plain old rage.  He cocked his fist back and launched it towards Nadya’s face with all the grace and coordination of a drunken sailor.  Ducking her head to the side, Nadya let the fist move past her head, then reached up and grabbed hold of it, slamming it down as she brought her knee up.  There was an audible cracking sound and she felt the arm break under her knee.  The man screamed in pain and pulled away, clutching his now useless arm.

Nadya brought her other arm up to block a blow from the fourth man, who was swinging his fist in from the side, trying to punch her in the side of her head.  Her forearm deflected the blow and she ducked under the guy’s arm and twisted it around with her until she was bending it behind his back and lifting one leg up to shove her knee into the small of his back.  The guy cringed and arched his back uncomfortably.  She brought her free hand up and slapped him backhanded across the back of his head before shoving him away from her.

By then, the man she’d kicked in the gut had recovered and charged towards Nadya with an angry bellow.  His head and shoulders were low, intending on knocking the girl to the ground and trampling her.  Nadya waited until he was about a foot in front of her, then leapt up into the air, splitting her legs apart wide and pushing the palms of her hands down into the back of the man’s neck, hopping over him.

As she landed, she saw the fourth man had turned back to face her and was throwing another punch at her head.

Nadya arched her back, leaning backwards and let the fist move past her, then straightened herself again and gave the guy a kick in his ribs, judging that she’d at least cracked a couple by the pained yelp the man let out.  Hearing heavy footsteps coming up behind her, Nadya shifted her weight onto her other leg, twisted her body sideways, and kicked out, nailing the returning charging man in the shoulder and causing him to spin awkwardly before slamming to the ground.

Hearing movement behind her, Nadya turned and brought herself back to the original direction she had been facing, stopping suddenly as she came face to face with the broken armed man, said broken arm hanging limply at his side.  It wasn’t the man that gave her pause, though; it was the semi-automatic pistol he was holding, aimed at her head.  Nadya raised an eyebrow and held still, watching the man’s finger on the trigger.

As the man started to tighten his finger on the trigger, Nadya shifted her head quickly to the side.  The gun went off, the bullet rocketing past her ear.  The man she’d kicked to the ground was just starting to get up as the bullet slammed into his chest.  His eyes widened with surprise and he clutched at the hole, blood pumping out of him and soaking his shirt.  He collapsed back to the floor, his movements quickly ceasing as he died.

Nadya wasted no time and grabbed hold of the gun-totting man’s unwounded arm, bringing the palm of her free hand up under the arm and slamming into the bottom of his elbow, causing a sickening crunch as the bone splintered.  The man cried out as she forcibly shifted his arm, bending it back until the barrel of the gun was resting under his chin.  He began to mutter something in German through his tears of pain.

“Sorry, what’s that?” Nadya asked in Russian, her tone mocking.  “I don’t speak kraut.”

Pushing her finger into the trigger guard with the man’s, she forced him to pull the trigger again.  A second gunshot filled the pub and the ceiling was splattered with brains and shards of skull.  The man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to his knees.

Nadya looked down, seeing the large hole in the top of his skull and the hollowed out area that had so recently contained whatever the hell passed for the man’s brains.  He fell backwards, spilling what little contents remained in his head out onto the floor.

The man with the cracked ribs stared wide-eyed at his two dead friends, then to the tiny Russian girl who’d caused all the carnage.  He quickly moved over to his remaining friend, who was just then shaking himself back into consciousness.  The guy shook his friend mostly awake and helped him to his feet, heading for the door, looking back every few seconds to see if she was intent on killing them as well.

She wasn’t.

As the two remaining men left the pub, Nadya let out yet another sigh, turning back to Strictly, who’d watched the whole altercation with bored eyes.  She walked over to the bar and reached for her wallet.  She flipped it open and tossed a decent-sized wad of bills on the counter in front of him.  “Sorry for the mess,” she said, replacing her wallet in her pocket and turning towards the exit.

Lonestar was gone, most likely having darted out the back as soon as the fight started.  He may have been a decent informant, but he was a chickenshit.  Aside from the two corpses, the drunken man that had caused the whole mess was snoring loudly on the floor.  There was still no sign of the blonde woman.  Maybe she was hiding in the bathroom.  Nadya considered asking the bartender but shrugged it off.

She reached down and retrieved the dead man’s gun, ejecting the magazine and checking the number of rounds left.  Slamming the mag back into the gun, she shoved it into the waistband of her pants and zipped up her leather jacket, hiding the weapon from casual observers, then headed out of the pub and into the cold night air.

The girl slid her hands into the pockets of her jacket briefly, pulling out her smokes and lighter.  She popped one of the cigarettes into her mouth and lit it before sliding both the pack and her lighter back into her jacket.  She left one hand in her jacket, enjoying the small degree of warmth it provided, and took the other out to grasp the cigarette between her index and middle fingers.  She took a drag and exhaled the smoke into the air, watching it drift upwards into the sky, moving past a full moon.  Nadya turned and started to walk down the sidewalk, hoping it wouldn’t take Lonestar long to find the information she wanted.  The pub fight had only whetted her appetite to cause some damage…