"He was very eager to talk," Roman says, "most of it is bullshit, though. He swears he wasn't hired by a crime ring. He thought they were only going to rough Ava up, scare her."
"You pulled her out of a window in the middle of a fucking wedding and you thought you were just going toscareher?" I snarl, driving my fist hard enough in his sternum to hear something crack.
"We didn' kill anybody," he slurs. "Supp'sed knock 'em out. The other women were…nuh…" I backhand him.
"Who. Hired. You?" I say slowly, clearly. "We can make this last long after you beg us to end it."
The man shakes his head, blood flying. "Nuh… swear."
Without taking my eyes off him, I call back. "Hey, Gordi?"
"Yeah, Mr. Morozov?" His heavy steps echo off the concrete walls as he comes closer.
"You're a master butcher. Decades of experience cutting meat from bone." He grins as he sees where I'm leading this.
"Yes, sir. Filets, ribs…" Gordi kicks the man's ass. "Rump roasts."
"Do you have a cleaver down here, my friend?"
"Yeah," he says, scratching his chin. "But I'd need a couple of good sharp paring knives. My bone saw."
"Stop!" The man's scream is mushy, too few teeth left. "Swear tuh god… all I know, it was a businessman… a ruh- rich guy.Maury says we gunna… get a big…" He coughs wetly, a clot of blood hitting the concrete. "Big tip for the girl…"
"A businessman?" I turn to look at Roman and he shakes his head.
"First I've heard of it," he says.
"Gordi?" I slap his shoulder. "Maybe you should go get that bone saw. Alexsey, why don't you take over. Let me know what you find."
I leave the room, the man's wet screams cut off instantly when I shut the door.
Chapter Twenty
In which there is gray sweatpants porn and BLTs.
Ava…
"As my son Roman would say…" Ella strips off her surgical gloves. "You have a grin on your face that you couldn't wipe off with a shovel."
"It was so satisfying," I say happily. "I shouldn't be smiling about emergency surgery, but the fact that it turned out so well! And this new experimental mesh you're trying, I can see how much internal damage you can prevent. And the way it's going to heal up the speeding process and reduce the risk of infection? It's amazing."
"It's nice having someone to share the excitement with," she says. "Maksim and my sons are supportive, of course, but there's nothing like having another medical professional share the progress."
I suspect she's just being gracious, since there's two more doctors who come in on an as-needed basis and I'm sure they're all invested in these new techniques. Still…
"Well, I'm honored that you shared it with me," I say sincerely. "It's so nice to be excited about the process again, instead of exhausted."
Ella rolls her eyes, tucking her hands in her scrub pockets as we walk down the hall. "That's the part I have never understood. How do they think that the interns and residents will magically function if they're putting in 72-hour rotations until they're barely conscious, much less able to focus? It's the spite-based nature of doctors who had to endure the same thing. Soof course,they have to pass on the misery."
"Thank you for that progressive opinion!" I say gratefully, because frankly, the other residents and I have discussed this many,manytimes.
"Has Dmitri taken you out for target practice and some self-defense lessons yet?" Ella asks.
I blink a little confused about the abrupt shift in conversation. "Uh, was he supposed to?"
"I realized when those idiots were able to tie me up so easily when they only had onesillygun, that I have not been practicing enough," she says crossly. "My god, that was mortifying! Maksim and I have had a few practice rounds and I feel much more confident again."
She's smiling with a dreamy, girlish grin and I have a feeling that practice was less focused on self-defense, but who am I to say anything?
