It has to be right. It has to be perfect.
This time. This moment. This woman.
He pulls the ring from the wallet and places it on the palm of his hand. Then he sits up and looks back at her. She is beautiful. He’s always known that. Darkened by the sun, her complexion looks more akin to that of her Kenyan mother — Leo imagines that, anyway. She’s tied her hair in a bright headscarf. Thickly curled strands fall from each side.
Leo pulls a deep breath and steadies his nerves. The air tastes of salt, tamarind and lime. To Leo, it smells of hope, opportunity and love.
He holds the breath for a moment. He feels the exhilaration. Then he lets it go.
“Will you —” he begins.
“We’re here,” a voice interrupts.
Leo ignores it, stuttering over his words.
“Will you…”
“Leo, wake up, we’re here!”
An eddy of cold wind rushes in. Leo shivers.
“Oi! Wake up!”
4
Keal watched the darkened streets of Berlin pass in a blur beyond the car window. He had dressed hurriedly with the dead eye of Olezka’s pistol never leaving him, and was led out of the apartment and into the King Pin’s Rolls Royce. In the movies, these things always looked dramatic. People were bundled, fighting all the way from one place to the next. In reality, Keal knew that didn’t happen. If someone didn’t do what you required, then a bullet was promptly lodged between their eyes and they were driven down to the river. No arguments. Only five minutes ago, Keal thought as he glanced at the softly glowing clock on the dash, I was asleep.
“What is this about?” Keal forced a laugh into his voice. “Is this some kind of joke?”
The unblinking pistol stared at him in the deadly silence. Keal clenched and opened his hands three times. He glanced up at the boss. Despite Olezka’s age, he was in good shape. His tall body looked as though it was carved in marble straight from the mines of Kolegamarmor. Even with half the miles on the clock, Keal didn’t think he could take the man hand for hand.
“Am I supposed to have done something? I can assure you, whatever it is, I haven’t done it.”
The Mafia boss watched silently as the city streamed past. The buildings became increasingly sparse the further they got from the city.
“Look at that,” Olezka said as he pointed through the window. A row of decrepit warehouses lined the road beyond which the sky was beginning to lighten.
“What, the buildings?”
“No, not the buildings you idiot, the sky.”
Keal looked at the reddening sky announcing the coming dawn.
“Yes sir, it’s getting light.”
“You know there was a phrase I once heard,” Olezka said as he looked at Keal. “Red sky in the morning is a warning. Or something like that.” His flicked his free hand.
Keal didn’t reply.
“It means that we have to be careful today because something bad might happen. You know what I mean?”
“Yes boss,” Keal replied. A growing wave of nausea surged through him.
The car slowed and turned from the main road. They passed between two monolithic factories, their walls dark against the lightening sky, their chimneys smokeless.
The road became unpaved, and the car began to bounce. They crawled forward as gravel skittered beneath the tyres.
Turning again, they pulled into a yard and the car crunched to a stop
“We’re here,” Olezka said, waiting for his driver to come and open the door.
Keal looked out at the building. He thought he knew all of the locations they used. This one was new.
Two strong torches snapped on and swung towards the car. They dazzled Keal as they neared. Keal noticed the men carrying the torches also had automatic rifles. Keal recognised the men, a pair of junior jokers called Semion and Konstantin. Keal’s good humour didn’t extend to these arseholes. They were part of a new generation making their way through the ranks of the organisation. Having learned to fire a gun on a computer game, they now thought they knew it all. As far as Keal was concerned, they were nothing but pond life.
Konstantin opened the door while Semion dazzled Keal with the torch’s strong beam.
“Take him in and get him ready,” Olezka said.
Keal stood obediently and straightened up. He was four inches taller than Konstantin. Konstantin snarled and attempted to seize Keal’s arm. Keal was quicker than that. He flicked his hand upwards and slapped Konstantin in the face.
Konstantin’s face flushed red as he levelled the gun at Keal.
“I can walk on my own, you blyad. Touch me again, and I’ll snap your hand off,” Keal snarled.
“Just get him in there,” Olezka barked from behind them.
Keal walked towards the building. With each step he thought about the two automatic rifles aimed at his back.
5
Out on the street, he dropped behind the Russian. He had to look as though he was leaving the club alone. The CCTV footage may be checked. The problem was, he didn’t know where they were going. It all depended on schedules and shift patterns, apparently. But it was going to happen tonight.
The nightclub’s techno thud became distant as they turned a corner — the heat, the sweat and the fluid movement of the dancers were now just a hazy memory.
Cars passed dozily on the street. It was still before dawn. That strange time when people waking for work mingled with those not yet asleep. The present and future coexisting for a few nebulous minutes.
A taxi slowed in search of a fare. Keeping his eyes on the Russian, he waved it off.
Ahead, the road straightened alongside a railway. Confident he could see the man from a distance on the straight road, he dropped his pace. For ten minutes, they walked through a patchwork of glaring streetlight and hanging shadows.
Tattered posters advertising events he would never attend flapped in the breeze.
He reached Warschauer Strasse S-Bahn station and followed the Russian inside. They waited at opposite ends of the empty platform. People could still be
