Judas Read online

  His eyes widened, dipping his head in approval. “Yes, actually, well read in Russian genealogy?” He asked, clearly surprised.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “Well, however you became familiar, you are correct. Bit ironic isn’t it? What with the business I do.” He laughed. I could almost feel a sense of disappointment in his voice.

  I forced a smile. “I suppose. Now, I do believe we have some business to discuss.”

  He nodded his head. “If you’ll follow me?” I bowed my head in agreement. He lead me through his complex. We walked past a dozen guards at least, dispersed throughout the various hallways and rooms. The complex itself stood beside the water, which was detectable throughout the whole place. The sound of running water brought a feeling of calm, accompanying the darkness that filled Ivanov’s building in an oddly dissonant way.

  “Impressive facility.” I said, still following behind the bulky man.

  “Thank you. Took me a while to settle in, but now it’s a second home. She’s been good to me.” He said, patting the wall beside him.

  It was entertaining to walk past the guards and watch the muscles in their exposed throats tense up. Most guards in this industry have heard of me. It’s cheap entertainment to watch them squirm.

  “I see you’ve done a good job educating your guards.” I said.

  “I do believe you’ve done that yourself, Judas. You’ve built yourself an impressive reputation. Something like that follows you around, whether you like it or not.” He said. Again, I couldn’t help but notice a tinge of self-loathing in his statement. Almost like he was talking to himself just as much as he was talking to me.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” I could have tried to prove the validity of my curiosity, but I decided it was better left unsaid, for the moment at least.

  “You know, leading up to this, I had listened to the stories that call you a monster. I won’t lie, I was terrified to have you. You don’t seem quite as monstrous as they made you out to be.” It seemed to be an odd thing to say so early on in our interaction, but I decided to test the waters a bit.

  “Maybe it’s just because you haven’t given me a reason yet.” He nervously laughed, realizing that he might have spoken too soon. “We all have a monster inside of us, guys like us just seem to have let it out a bit more than others. At least from where I see it, that is.”

  “Yes, I cannot argue with you on that.” We continued in comfortable silence for another few hallways, then we stopped. He ushered me into a room. I walked in and he shut the door behind us. The room was as lavish as money could make it. The finest woodworking pieces were carefully placed throughout the room, simply to set more expensive trinkets on. Designer paintings adorned the walls, though I’m sure he didn’t obtain them legally. Some exotic animal’s head was even hung on the back wall, facing the door we just walked in. An zebra skin rug in the middle of the room held a large wooden desk. He had an ornate glass vase that held a dark colored liquor.

  “Beautiful.” I turned around to face him.

  “Which part?” He said, proudly. He slipped out of his suit coat and hung it next to the door. Underneath, he was wearing a simple long sleeve, black, button down dress shirt. It became easier to take him seriously without the shimmering red party suit on. “Would you like me to take your jacket? It tends to get a little clammy in here.”

  I debated momentarily. “I’d appreciate that.” I slipped out of it, concealing the pain it caused the stiches in my side. I watched his eyes immediately lock onto the gun at my side. He remained calm, though, hanging my jacket on an ornate coat rack, and then taking a seat at the chair behind his desk. I’d expect a man like him to feel comfortable around guns.

  “Please, take a seat.” He gestured to one of the luxurious looking chairs on the opposite side of the desk. I did as he suggested, so as to not appear ungrateful. “And?”

  I looked at him, cocking one eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

  “The chair. What are your thoughts? What does it make you feel?”

  “It’s very nice. You can feel the wealth it carries.” It was a chair.

  “I caught a glimpse of them in Budapest and I had to have them. I paid a pretty penny for them too, but you know what that’s like.”

  I momentarily flashed back to my own home, with it’s barren décor. “Yes, I do.” I didn’t. “You find yourself traveling a lot?”

  “Oh yes, everywhere. As I said earlier, I was born to a Russian immigrant family, but grew up here in the United States. Even though I don’t have any memories of my home back in Russia, I’ve done a fair bit of traveling back there, just to experience the life my family lived.”

  “I see. And, how does it compare?” I prodded.

  He gestured around the room. “I’m dripping in the finest things money can buy, I’d say I like it just fine.” He paused momentarily, seeming to reflect on the narcissism his sentence was coated in. “Still, I do sometimes wish I had a more normal upbringing. Going to school, coming home to my family, eating dinner, homework, honest labor for honest wages. There’s not a lot of honesty in our labor or our wages.” He stopped, regretting the last sentence. “Anyway, I do believe we have business to discuss. You’re a busy man; I wouldn’t want to cut into your time.”

  “I suppose you are correct. I do have a lot going on. Tell me a little bit about yourself, what you’re in, where you want to go. Things like that.”

  “As I’m sure you know, I’m in the world of human trafficking.” It seemed to almost burn as it slithered out of his mouth. “The next logical, and best financial decision would be to grow my capabilities. Maybe set up multiple points of entry, and have more than one base of operations. I want to move more, faster, and better.”

  “Well, you called the right person for connections.” I said.

  “You have good connections in the trafficking world?” He said, a strange mix of hope and disappointment. Almost like there was a part of him hoping I would say I couldn’t help him.

  “Mr. Ivanov, I have connections everywhere. The question here is whether or not you can handle the added pressure. I know you want the added freedom to work outside of the states, and be less confined by time limits. I’m sure you also want the added bonuses. Money, power, respect…”

  “Well, it doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

  “Honesty, a good quality. Still, do you think you can handle the pressures this occupation is hand in hand with? While I may be aware of the benefits this occupation brings, I am far more aware of the complications. There is a long list, and you have to be prepared for them. Even though we won’t be on the same level, you’re going to experience some complications.”

  He laughed. “Believe me Judas, I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a while. Whatever the complications, I’m sure I can handle them.”

  I smiled. “You’ll have to get used to questioning whether or not everyone around you is going to try and kill you, and be prepared if they do.”

  He pulled a gun from his desk. “I’ll be ready.”

  I smiled, noting that the safety was still on. If I wanted to, I could get to my gun, and have a fatal shot off before he could even turn off the safety. “Tell me, where do your shipments go?”

  He was slightly taken aback by my sudden topic change, but quickly re-directed his train of thought. “Well, that’s a broad question.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that. Just on average, where are you generally receiving your shipments, and where do you take them?”

  “I generally pick them up on a coast state, just because that’s the easiest transportation method. The most common place I drop them off is Vegas. A lot of crime bosses over there get tired of the kind of…intimate affection they can receive.” He swallowed, hard. “That’s probably the most common place. However, I have also been known to make drops to other distributors. Some traffickers are more centralized to homeland distribution, so I’ll make drops to them throughout the states. From there, they will be dis
tributed to whoever orders them. I have a group here right now who’s going to a ring in Michigan. Demand has been growing higher and higher over there. Though some of the distributors on that border take them across to Canada. California is also a pretty common place for pick up, since Mexico is right there.”

  “Excellent. Well it sounds to me like you’re very well educated. You sound ready to me.” I said, eliciting a smile from him.

  “I’m glad you agree.” He confidently replied.

  “Tell you what, I’ll get in touch with some of the people in my arsenal, and I will get your name out. I know for a fact a few of them are hungrily looking for someone just like you to work with. I will give you the decency of warning you that some of them are not nearly as warm and welcoming as I’ve been. I’d start building a thick skin if I were you.”

  “Sounds excellent, though I will take that suggestion under consideration. Is this a simple shake on it exchange? Or is there some other way the bad guys have assurance they’ll do what they said they’d do?” It was a mildly dimwitted question, but I answered anyway.

  A smile slid across my face. “Mr. Ivanov, I’m not one to double back on my commitments. In this industry, betrayal can get you killed, or worse, and I don’t often go back on my promises. I recommend you do the same.”

  His lips dropped a few shades for a brief moment. “Of course. My apologies. I didn’t mean to accuse you of dishonesty.”

  “I’m a forgiving man…to a point. Don’t do it again,” I reclined in the chair, and crossed my right leg over the other, bearing a cynical smile, “and we won’t have a problem.” I smiled. He squirmed in his chair.

  “Yes, sir.” He uttered.

  I popped back up in my chair, reverting my demeanor back to the more silver-tongued persona I’d put on before. “Now, you mentioned that you had a shipment here right now?”

  He tried to scare up some of that previous confidence. “Yes, just picked them up from someone in California.”

  “Mind if I take a peak? Just for curiosity sake. I’m wondering what kind of clientele you attract.”

  He quickly stood up. “Of course. Anything you want. Right this way.” He quickly walked past me and to the door. I stood up from his uncomfortable chair and walked toward him. Before exiting the room, I reached out and grabbed my jacket, slipping it on as I walked out the door. “I keep them in a holding chamber, of sorts. It’s simple, but I have guards on it at all times. Not to mention, most of them arrive drugged, or in so much shock that they don’t fight back.” His tone had settled back into the fake pride, laced with the regret I’d been picking up on.

  We walked through more of the complex, which was significantly larger than it appeared from the outside. More guards were stationed throughout the facility. An impressive number, in fact. That’s one thing I’d give him.

  Eventually we reached a garage at the far end of the complex. There was a set of stairs leading down to it, with some five total guards in the upper and lower floors. “Mind if we check it out without all the security? I don’t like feeling like I’m being watched all the time.”

  He moved to action without much of a fight. “Okay guys,” he announced while leaning over a rail, “take a break. I’ll let you know when I want you stationed again.” He turned back to me with a smile and clasped hands. He tried to hide it, but I could see right through it, it was killing him.

  We walked down the stairs that led into the opening housing the garage. Brutus walked towards the building without glancing back at me and opened the padlock on the door.

  He pulled the door back to reveal a group of grungy humans piled in the buildings corners. They looked emaciated, exhausted, and sick. Both men and women, primarily in their late teens and early twenties, were lying around the room. Some were trying to console each other, while others seemed to be unconsciously aware of what was going on. One of the younger ones sat directly in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the floor. His black hair was matted to his skin from the sweat, which was running down his arms and chest. He was the only one in the room who didn’t at least look up towards us. Each other pair of eyes made their way towards us, but not his. It was like he had lost all ability to care what happened to him.

  Brutus turned to me. “This is around the average size of group I move. It’s not the biggest, of course, but it’s where I’m at right now.” I could see his gaze mostly locked to the floor, almost like he didn’t want to look at the children in the room. He uncomfortably moved to close the door. “Here, I’ll just lock this again, not much to look at after all.”

  As the door moved in front of me, I reached out, pressing my hand against it. He immediately stopped trying to close it, and glanced up at me in fear. “No.”

  That familiar look of worry flashed across his face again. “Sure.” He stepped back to my side, where he was previously.

  “I think we only have one more thing to discuss.” I said, incurring a nervous swallow from him.

  “What’s that?” He asked, a look of sustained panic across his face.

  “Remember when I was telling you about always being prepared?” I slapped his arm, gripping it upon contact. “That it was one of the most important parts of this industry.” I squeezed his arm, feeling the thick muscle underneath. I moved my hand to his shoulder, and squeezed again. His shoulder muscles were tight, displaying the same fear that was clearly displayed on his face. He nodded. “Strong, burly guy like you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, right? Unfortunately, I may have had a change of heart about our earlier agreement.” He quickly realized what I meant, but realized it far too late to do anything. I pulled a knife from the inside pocket of my jacket and plunged it into his chest, as his face displayed pure terror and regret. With the last few seconds of his ability to stand, I leaned in close to his ear. “Sorry, guess that’s business.” I twisted the knife and pulled it out. He fell to the ground, nearly immobilized from the shock. Before the life slipped out of his body completely, I saw a change in his face. The anger and regret seemed to slip away, replaced by a look of thankfulness. Who knows, maybe he really was looking for a way out of this business. I knelt down and dug his phone out of his pocket. The group of people in the room wore the same look of shock as the corpse at my feet. I threw the phone at the feet of the boy I noticed earlier. It took him a moment to realize, but once he saw the phone, he snapped his neck towards me. “Call the police and get out of here.” The boy looked completely disoriented, but promptly sprung to his feet, and gripped the phone like it was his life. I guess it was.

  I turned and started out of the building. The people in the room behind me were hustling to get themselves out of their horrible conditions. Fortunately, the guards had gone far enough away so they wouldn’t hear any of the commotion. I holstered the knife back into my jacket pocket and placed my sunglasses back on my face. I retraced the steps to Brutus’ office. The large desk in the center of the room was what I came for, or more precisely, what was within it. I walked into the room and sat down in his expensive chair. Right in the center drawer was what I came for. His black book. Men like him keep a book, traditionally black leather bound, with all the information, addresses, phone numbers, and other important information they need for their work. Not that I need it, I surely know all the details within the book, but I had collected them for a time now. I still didn’t know entirely why, but something told me I should, so I did. It had become a hobby, of sorts.

  I exited the room and continued to trace the steps back to the opening where my car was parked. On the way, I saw a door open, and heard indistinct chatter within it. Upon peeking my head in, the room was housed by two of the on-break guards standing over a table. Their backs were to the doorway, so they were completely unaware that I was standing there. Now that I was so close, I could hear their conversation clearer.

  “What do you think of this Judas guy being here?” One said.

  “Honestly, I think the boss is in way over his head. He clearly didn�
��t do his research into Judas’ history. If he had, he never would have made the phone call in the first place.” The one beside him answered. Intelligent man, I thought.

  “Yeah, he had no business bringing a pro of that caliber into his operation. Have you heard of what’s going, though?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a new guy moving in. Some guy who’s supposed to be able to take Judas down.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I wish I could remember his name.” He paused, his fellow guard hanging on bated breath. “Abaddon or something like that. He’s been out of the game for a while, but apparently, he’s back, and he’s back with a vengeance. Hear he’s even tried to recruit some of the guy’s in our lineup.”

  Not many things cause a fear reaction within me anymore, but as the word slipped out of the guard’s chapped lips, chills clawed down my spine.

  I stifled the urge to get out and stepped into the room. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice me. I leaned my back on the wall just inside the door and cleared my throat.

  Both guards spun around, terror covering their faces once the saw mine. Both men were wearing black sleeveless shirts, the black jackets they, and all the other guards, wore were slung over a chair in the corner, along with their guns. I noticed the same tattoo on each man’s upper bicep. It was the earth with an anchor through the middle. An eagle stood on top of it. They were ex-Marines. “Marines, huh? That’s interesting.”

  The man on the right side reached to set his hand on his sidearm, but quickly and regretfully realized it was on the chair. “What are you doing in here?” The other asked, trying to speak through the quiver in his voice.

  “I’m here to give a message for you, and every one of your comrades in this building.” I could see the anticipation in their eyes, waiting, almost expecting me to lash out at them. “Your boss? I just killed him. And right now, the police are on their way to collect each and every one of those people that he had locked in that storage container. This is your opportunity to gather your men and get out of here.” I saw the eyes of the man on the left shift quickly towards his gun. “Look, you aren’t going to make it out alive if you choose to fight. That’s why I’m giving you the option to walk out of here. It’s not too late for you to go home to your families, start over, do something better than this.” They looked each other in the eyes, and then back at me.