Nina rolled down the window and looked directly at Marty. “Remember your fat ass is stuffed into that tight dress like some kinda sausage and you have to make time allowances for your getaway, Blondie.”
Marty’s eyes narrowed as she bumped fists with her bestie. “Fuck off, Ex-Elvira. And I’d better not see your face inside that bar, or I’m gonna turn your intestines into wall art. Now put your hands on the wheel at ten and two and do your job, chauffer.”
Nina snapped her teeth at her friend and rolled the window back up, driving away, leaving just the three of them on the sidewalk under the streetlamp.
Snow battered their faces; sleet slicked their clothing, giving a glossy sheen to Marty’s dress.
Are we ready?” Teddy asked, her voice shaky and shuddering.
Both Marty and Cormac turned around, putting their hands behind their backs.
As the cold plastic of the zip tie tightened around his wrists, and the butt of a pistol pressed between his shoulder blades, he sucked in a breath and sent up a silent prayer.
Just keep Teddy safe.
Whatever it takes, keep her safe.
Loud folk music blared from the interior of the shadowy bar when they first entered, smoke filled the long, wide room and the scent of vodka, strong and Russian-made, permeated her nose.
Her hand shook momentarily, but she gripped the handle of the gun harder to steady herself, finding Darnell in the tiny, dark corner of the bar and using him as her center.
The moment they entered, he slipped his bulky body down along the plastic material of the booth like a melting puddle of wax, and huddled under the table.
Okay, step one complete.
Step two. Making an entrance.
Speaking of, their entrance was anything but dramatic. In her mind, she’d imagined the moment they stepped foot into the smoky, dark, red and purple room, guns would cock to the tune of Clint Eastwood’s infamous Dirty Harry.
Instead, four or five rough-looking men good-naturedly drank from glass tumblers at a long stretch of bar, laughed and chatted in Russian, and in general didn’t even realize they’d entered at all.
Which might have been a bit of a downer, but instead gave her too much time to think about what she was supposed to say next.
Marty wiggled her fingers, brushing the hem of Teddy’s vest. “Psst. It’s your turn, honey. Just like we rehearsed, remember?” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.
But she couldn’t remember. She was drawing a blank. Oh. God.
“Teddy!” Cormac whisper-yelled. “Demand to see Stas. Remember? You say, ‘Where’s Stas Vasilyev?’”
Oh right. Step two.
She cleared her throat as the music continued to play and no one paid any mind to them. “Hey!” she shouted, sort of. “Where’s Stas Vasilyev?”
Nothing. Not a soul turned from the bar.
“Louder, honey,” Marty prompted. “Then remember, when they respond, shove us to the corner of the bar where those booths are so we’re in the shadows and they can’t see my face.”
Fear and panic began that nauseating roll in her stomach again, and coupled with the frustration of being completely ignored, was probably what made her finally get some steam.
“Heeeeyyyy!” she roared, using her best bear’s voice.
Everything stopped then. The music, the bartender pouring drinks, the five thugs sitting at the bar.
Well. She smiled in satisfaction. That was more like it.
“Push us into the booth, Teddy. Do it like you mean it,” Cormac uttered under his breath.
Oh yeah. There was the opening line and then there was the shoving part. Darnell had come earlier in the day to scope the layout of the bar so they knew exactly how and where to position Marty in order to keep her in the shadows and not reveal her face, to make Stas think she was Toni.
So get everyone’s attention, shove, demand to see Stas. Okay. Got it.
With all her strength, she knocked Marty and Cormac sideways to the tune of Marty’s yelp and Cormac’s grunt. But then there was a loud clatter as Marty crashed into a table that wasn’t supposed to be next to the booth and fell over it with no way to brace herself from the fall.
Her legs flew up in the air and she lost one of her heels, but by God, her wig stayed securely on her head.
Teddy was quick to react, but Marty gave a curt shake of her head to stop her from helping her from the floor before she curled into a ball, keeping her face hidden.
Oh damn. Think, Teddy. Think!
“Stop being so damn rough with her!” Cormac shouted at her from the floor, his voice dripping with distress, his eyes prompting her to react and remember what their roles were.
She was handing them over to save her own hide and they were her ticket to getting the hell away from Carmine, the cops, and Stas. Act accordingly. Be cagey, nervous, but above all, be angry. Marty and Cormac are your hostages, Wanda had coached. You fought long and hard to get them and you’re livid they’ve involved you in this and put your life in danger. Behave as such.
Right. Angry.
Wow. Cormac had conveyed all that information with his eyes. He was good.