The Spy Devils by Joe Goldberg (top rated books of all time .TXT) 📕

The air smelled like dust, rats, and decay.

Two men walked out of the glare and loomed over Pavlo. They were identical, except Oleg Koval had a ragged scar running along his jawline and down the side of his neck. Oleg Rudenko had a goatee that came to a point like an ice pick a few inches under his chin.

They were tall and muscular. Their bald bullet-shaped heads sat on tattooed necks that rippled with each breath. They wore black boots, jeans, and gray short-sleeved shirts under black leather vests. Tattoos of crosses, skulls, and knives covered their arms.

Pavlo didn’t know who they were, but he knew that body art of skulls and knives meant these men were mobsters—Russian or Ukrainian—and that they were killers.

“Where. What?” He couldn’t form a sentence through a mouth so dry he was sure they plastered his tongue to the top of his mouth.

“Please. Quiet.” Koval said with a thick Ukrainian accent. He dropped his paw on Pavlo’s shoulder, left it there, and squeezed. “You worry about the girl? You are a nice man.”

Pavlo’s head crushed into his neck as the pain rolled through his body. “Where…is…Tinka?” he gasped each word.

Rudenko sat down in his chair. “Let him go.”

“Little fat fucker,” Koval said disappointedly, as he raised his hands in the air spreading his fingers wide.

He walked behind Pavlo, slapped him on his sweat-drenched scalp, sending a snapping sound and grunt ricocheting around the room. Rudenko took his time moving toward the empty chair—the one to Pavlo’s left. He grunted as he sat, leaned back, and rested his shiny black leather boots on the tables’ edge. He stretched his hands behind his head like it was nap time. He rested a boot on the table top. Pavlo saw the shape of a knife carved in the sole of his shoe.

“Wh-why?” Pavlo said.

“We will explain,” Koval said. He leaned forward and interlocked his fingers as he rested his elbows on the table. Each knuckle had diamond “ring of thieves” tattoos on them.

“It is simple. Your boss is scum. Bondar. And his whore daughter. They killed our boss. Vlasenko. Now they plan to—,” Koval looked at Rudenko and shrugged, “—I don’t know what he plans to do? You?”

“No fucking idea. But I would like to fuck that daughter. She is sweet,” Rudenko said, looking disinterested in the conversation. He pulled out a knife from his belt and started to clean his fingernails.

“We want that case as payment for killing our boss, and—” Koval said as a matter of fact, “—to keep us from killing you and the cute bitch in the other room.”

“I know nothing of killing…or any case.” Pavlo added the lie in a moment of courage. “Where is she?”

Rudenko dropped his boot to the floor with a loud thud.

“What?” Rudenko shouted in his face.

“I…don’t…know…I…don’t…know—” he whimpered. Snot ran out of his nose and stuck to his lips.

With surprising agility, Rudenko wheeled forward, arching his hand high in the air. The knife hit the table with a metallic thwap a quarter of an inch from Pavlo’s right hand.

Pavlo began to shake, then felt a warm stream of urine running down his leg.

“Shit, he is wetting himself!” Rudenko stood up and looked at Koval, then over the table. “Shit.” He pulled his knife out of the table and wiped it on Pavlo’s shoulder.

Pavlo began to cry. “Tin-ka. Tin-ka.”

“Is that the pretty bitch? A fine bitch…well, not now,” Koval and Rudenko laughed together in unison.

“What have you done? Is she—” Pavlo screamed.

“Dead? No, she is not dead. Do you think we are animals?” Koval chuckled. “Want to see her?” Koval reached into his vest and pulled out his mobile phone. He swiped a few times with his thumb. “There.”

Pavlo squinted at an image that showed Tinka wired to a chair. Her head was bent forward. The angle revealed a bruised and bloodied face. Her eyes were swollen closed. Her chin rested on her chest. Her hair was matted to her face. Dark brownish-red lines came from her nostrils, over her split lips, and pooled into a darker stain against her blouse.

“She can take a punch. I will give her credit for that. Tough bitch,” Rudenko said, laughing too loud for the room.

Pavlo glared at him.

“Do not look at me, fat fucker.” Koval slapped Pavlo hard across the cheek. Blood began to drip from his nose.

“We should visit her again. Tinka? Finnish girl—” Rudenko said.

“I like Finnish girls,” said the other man, laughing.

“No!” Pavlo shouted, as he tried to break his restraints.

“Go show ‘wet pants’ that we are serious,” Koval said to Rudenko.

Pavlo watched Rudenko get up and turn toward the door.

“No. No!” Pavlo screamed. His hands jerked frantically. Sweat rained off his face, and his urine splashed under his feet as he struggled to stand.

Rudenko opened the door, stopped, and turned. “I’ll be back,” he said in a bad Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation. He laughed again and closed the door behind him.

Koval showed Pavlo the screen. Tinka looked up in total terror when Rudenko walked into view. He glanced over his shoulder at the camera with the look of absolute evil. He raised his hand and swung it down. She jerked, then was still. Rudenko smiled back at the camera and walked out of view.

Pavlo sat fossilized. Nothing moved. His eyes were wide. His upper teeth had bitten into his lower lip, causing a small line of blood to run down his chin. Koval put the phone in his pocket and walked to avoid the puddle on the floor. He leaned against the wall to Pavlo’s right.

“That’s enough,” a voice said with authority.

Pavlo startled when he heard the words. His head swiveled, looking to see where they had come from.

“Pavlo. I know you are a little upset, and I want to help.” He saw a silhouetted shape hidden within the glare of the floodlights. “Understand? But I need you to help make that possible, Pavlo. Can you do that?” the voice asked.

The lights increased to