To Beat the Devil

To Beat the Devil

Chapter One

The Russian mobster sat naked in the old office chair, his cloths discarded in a pile on the warehouse floor. Duct tape secured his wrists to the armrests and more tape forced his legs backward, at­tached to the wheel spokes below the seat. Welts and open bruises, red, purple and black, covered his chest and stomach, blood flowed from his broken nose, both eyes were swollen closed from the beating, and on the left side of his head, he had a torn ear. The mobster breathed through his opened mouth and I could see bro­ken teeth and blood. His engorged scrotum looked like a red and purple softball.

My friend Liam Mick Murphy stood in front of the con­demned man, a three-foot length of rubber garden hose in his hand. The hose still had its new-bought shine except where blood stained it.

I stood about twenty feet away and slowly scrolled through the mobster’s cell phone.

“He’s not gonna talk,” I said, but kept my attention on the cell phone. “He knows you’ll kill him if he does. If you don’t kill him, Alexei will.” I looked up.

“You tell me what I want and you can run and hide from Alexei,” Mick Murphy said to the man.

The mobster said nothing.

“I think what we want is in his cell.” I held the phone up and pointed to the screen. “Names and numbers. He has eight on the speed dial. One and two are men, the others are clubs.”

“And what does that tell us, Norm, that this fucker won’t?” He raised the hose and brought it down hard on the mob­ster’s shoulder. A moan squealed from the man’s bloody mouth.

“How do you arrange the names on your speed dial?” It was a rhetorical question because we prioritized our speed dial.

“Is one of the names Alexei?” He hit the mobster again.

“No.” I didn’t expect it to be, neither did Mick Murphy.

“Then how the hell does it help us?” His words came slowly, angrily. Torturing a man tires you and Mick Murphy need­ed sleep, but he was frantic and wanted to find Alexei and kill him. It was a difficult task, finding and killing him, but Murphy was determined and for reasons that would’ve made me deter­mined too.

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