Nadya's Nights: Road to Vengeance (5 page)

The adrenaline of her fight was wearing off and leaving nothing but pain all over her body.  She shut the car door behind her and looked through the broken window, noticing all the blood she’d left on the seat. 
Someone will have to move the car.  The shitty parking job is going to draw attention.  The blood’ll draw even more.

The bad kind.

A wave of dizziness flooded her and she decided it was someone else’s problem.  She made for the apartment building she’d parked in front of.

Looking down the list of names and numbers, Nadya found the one she was looking for – Ulbrecht Reinhardt – and hit the call button.

A voice responded with a simple, “Yes?”

“Nadya,” she replied, her voice weak.

A moment later, the front door buzzed and she reached over to open it, going inside.  She rode the elevator up to the third floor and stumbled out.  She seemed to be growing weaker by the moment.  Finding the room number she was after, she gave what could barely be called a knock.

The door opened and Nadya caught half a glance of the young man who answered.  He was wearing clean, nice looking clothes.

Too bad I’m going to ruin it with all my blood
, Nadya thought as her vision went black and she fell forward.

She was unconscious before she even felt herself press against the young doctor.

Chapter Six: Language Barriers

Nadya awoke suddenly.

She lay in a small bed with a thick wool blanket pulled over her.  The room was dark.  She glanced around, trying to see through the shadows.  A barrage of feelings struck her at once.  Her wounded shoulder throbbed, as did her back.  Dragging her able hand from her side up to her shoulder, she also realized she was nude.  At least from the waist upwards.

Anger flared up inside her at the thought of someone undressing her while she was unconscious.  She felt the bandage around her wounded shoulder briefly then reached down to confirm she still wore panties.  She pushed herself up, holding the blanket to her chest, looking around for her clothes.  Pain streaked up her back and she let out an involuntary yelp, falling back onto the bed.  She lay there, trying to push the pain away but it was being persistently stubborn.

Across the room, a door opened, letting light spill into the room and reveal some of its secrets.  Nadya looked and saw what seemed to be a more or less clean and well-stocked bachelor pad.  She spotted the silhouette of a man entering the room and she tensed, bringing the blanket closer to her chest and trying to look for something she could use as a weapon.  The door closed again and the man moved further into the room, clicking on a lamp by the wall.

The light allowed Nadya to get a better look at his face and she recognized him as the man that had answered the door to the apartment.  The doctor Vladimir had sent her to.

That explains the bandages.  But not why I’m mostly naked.

Her eyes narrowed and she spoke in a low, cool voice in her native language.  “Where are my clothes?”

The man gave her a blank look.

She tried again in heavily accented English and he seemed to understand better.

“I had to remove them to treat your wounds,” he told her, also speaking English, although his voice held a German accent.  He sat in a chair across from the bed, looking over at her.  “I’m afraid the shirt is ruined.  The jacket will need mending.”

“My pants, my boots?” she asked, hostility filling her voice.  “My bra?  What were wrong with them?”  She tried sitting up again, giving him an accusing glare.

The man raised a hand to try and calm her.  “You shouldn’t move much.  You may have internal injuries.”  The pain in her back was too much to remain in a semi-elevated position so she slumped back into the bed again.  But her glare remained locked on him.  He seemed to relax a bit when she lay back down.  “I had my assistant, Greta, remove your clothes.  I wasn’t in the room.  She’s going to fetch you something clean to wear now.”

Nadya’s hostile look faded slightly.  But only slightly.  She wasn’t sure how much she could trust this doctor.  “But you bandaged me?”

“I only looked at what I had to,” he responded, meekly.  He looked very young for a doctor and Nadya guessed he was probably a student.  Part of her mind saw him as attractive but it was mostly a label applied to his aesthetics.  She wasn’t interested in him sexually.  But compared to the assholes she had fought in the pub earlier, he was much easier on the eyes.  His behavior was a bit odd to her.

Almost shy.

She was used to much firmer people.  Their opinions were their opinions and if you disagreed you’d better be ready to put up your fists or get knocked to the ground.  He seemed much mellower.  She figured that would make him a better doctor.

“You really should go to a hospital.  I don’t have the right equipment here to treat you properly.  I was able to give you blood, but if you’ve suffered internal damage, there’s not much I can do here.”

Nadya shook her head.  “No hospital.  Not unless Vladimir says so.” 
Either this ‘doctor’ hasn’t been working for Vladimir long or he’s just stupid.
  Taking her to a hospital would more than likely cost her life instead of save it.  The police would be looking for her by now, or someone at least.

Anyone admitted to a local hospital with a gunshot wound would fit the bill nicely.  Not to mention, anyone related to the woman she’d killed would also be pretty angry with her.  She wondered if there were any other monsters working for the dead woman that would be hungry for revenge.

Nadya still wasn’t entirely sure what the deal with that blob thing had been but it was disturbing and she had a shuddering suspicion that she’d gotten very lucky in defeating it.  Thinking back to the encounter was only making her heart pound faster in her chest so she turned her thoughts to other things.  “The car,” she stated abruptly.

The man looked up at her, confused.

Nadya looked over at him.  “The car I came here in.  You have to get rid of it.  Hide it.  If it’s found outside, they’ll come looking for me.”

The man stood and looked down at her.  “I’ll take care of it,” he told her reassuringly then turned and headed back to the door he’d entered through.  He stopped as he opened it and looked back at her.  “I’m Ulbrecht, by the way.”

“Nadya,” she responded.

The man nodded.  “I know.”  He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Nadya laid back into the bed, looking up at the ceiling.  Her arm and back still throbbed but somehow she managed to close her eyes and drift off into a somewhat restless slumber.

The sound of the door opening again brought Nadya back into consciousness and she looked over to see a young woman entering the room.  She had blonde hair similar to Nadya’s, but her shoulders were wider and she had more weight on her.  She looked over at Nadya with shyness and held up a stack of clothes, bringing them over to the bed and setting them down for her.

Nadya thanked the girl and sat up, finding the pain in her back somewhat more bearable if she moved slowly.  Sliding her legs off the bed to sit on the edge, she held the blanket to her naked chest, looking up at Greta.  The woman looked back, a blank expression on her face.  After a moment she got the hint and turned around, looking the other way.

Nadya dropped the blanket and reached over for the stack of clothes.  They were a few sizes too large for her and she assumed the articles came from Greta’s personal wardrobe.  She wasn’t going to complain though.  No bra in the stack, so she worked the baggy shirt over her head before slowly sliding her bandaged shoulder through and finally her good arm.

Pushing the blanket further off her and revealing her pale legs and black panties, Nadya grabbed the equally baggy jeans, slid them on and fastened them.  Under the pants she found a belt that – thankfully – was more suited to her smaller size.  Sliding it through the loops of the jeans, she tightened the belt to the point that it would keep the pants from dropping off of her as soon as she stood up.

Nadya spotted her boots sitting beside the bed.  Her socks were tucked inside.  She reached down and pulled the socks out, lifting one leg to rest on her knee as she slid the fabric over her foot.  She switched legs and did the same with the second sock.

Greta turned around as Nadya laced up her boots.  She seemed alarmed at the Russian girl’s movements to leave the apartment.  “No no, you can’t go,” the young woman spoke in German.  “You’re not in any shape to leave.”

‘Nein’ was one of the few German words Nadya knew.  She looked up at the woman.  “I’ll be fine,” she said, trying her accented English out on her, hoping that she’d catch on like Ulbrecht had.  Nadya sighed when she didn’t, and kept on speaking in German.  Her words came more rapidly and made it impossible for Nadya to follow along at all.

“You can’t leave,” Greta said to her, shaking her head emphatically.  “You’re not well.  You must rest.  I won’t let you leave.  You have to stay until Ulbrecht gets back.”

Nadya did recognize Ulbrecht’s name.

She sat on the edge of the bed, boots half-laced.  Letting out another sigh, she slid her feet back out of the combat boots.  “Fine,” she said in Russian, figuring there was no point in continuing with English since the cow of a girl didn’t speak it.  “I’ll wait for Ulbrecht.”

She lay back onto the bed, slowly to keep her back from screaming in pain at her.  She hoped it wouldn’t take the young doctor-in-training long.  Even if he wouldn’t let her go, at least she’d be able to talk to someone in a language she actually understood.

Chapter Seven: No Rest for the Wicked

Ulbrecht returned about a half hour later.

Nadya was still lying on the bed, her wounds still throbbing.  She’d tried to ask Greta for some pain killers but the woman didn’t understand her in Russian or English and Nadya didn’t know the German word for what she wanted.

Bitch, cunt, shithead, fucker… she knew all those, and was very tempted to unleash them on the hefty girl but somehow she managed to restrain herself.

However, she was sure her attempts at keeping from being rude would have failed miserably if she knew how to say ‘disgusting fat cow of a girl’ in German.  She muttered it in Russian anyway.  Just to see if the girl reacted at all.

She didn’t.

It wasn’t even that Greta was fat.  Watching her as she moved about the apartment, tidying and moving the tools Ulbrecht had apparently used to save her life back to their rightful places, Nadya could tell that.  She had broad shoulders, an expansive bosom and a bit of a gut, but she really wasn’t fat.

It was mainly that Nadya was in pain.  And being unable to communicate that to the woman put her in an even worse mood than she already was.  And while she probably shouldn’t take it out on Greta, goddammit, there wasn’t anyone else around.

The assassin tensed when she heard someone at the door.  Her eyes went to Greta, who didn’t seem worried, and then back to the door.  She focused on the knob, watching it turn and readying herself just in case she had to jump out of bed and start killing things.

Then the door opened and Ulbrecht entered the flat.  She let out a sigh of relief.

“I hid the car,” he told her.  “No one will track it back here.”  He noticed Nadya was now dressed and looking a bit impatient.  “You’re wanting to leave?”

“Would’ve been gone already if it wasn’t for your girlfriend over there,” Nadya said, nodding to Greta, who was sitting at a table with her back to them.  She was stitching Nadya’s jacket.  She’d tried to tell the German girl to just wash the blood off and leave the holes but it was absolutely no use.

Ulbrecht looked over at Greta then turned back to Nadya.  “She’s not my girlfriend…”

Nadya made an attempt at shrugging but her wounded shoulder protested, making her wince.  “Whatever… Do you have painkillers?  I tried asking Greta but we don’t speak the same language.  You should teach her English, at least then she might be more entertaining to talk to.”

The young doctor-in-training blushed.  “Sorry about that.  I’ve tried.  She’s more of a one-language type of person.”  He walked over to a desk and pulled open one of the drawers, taking out a medicine bottle and turning to Nadya, tossing it to her.  “Those should help.”

Nadya caught the bottle and looked at the printing on it.  Vicodin.  She popped the top and looked inside to see about a dozen of the pills.  She put the edge of the bottle to her lips and tilted it back, feeling two of the tabs slide into her mouth.  She put the cap back on the bottle and turned to Ulbrecht to ask for something to drink but he was already extending a glass of water.  She accepted it and drank a swig, swallowing the pills.

“Thanks.”  She took another drink of water and set the glass on the nightstand next to the bed.  “I should go.”

“How are you feeling?” Ulbrecht asked.

“Like shit.  I’ll live.”

“You should at least spend the night here,” he countered.  “No one will think to look for you here and you should rest.  The last thing you need is to walk home.”

Nadya sighed.  “You’re as bad as Greta.  At least I can understand you.”

She considered what he said.  She didn’t have anything more to do for the night.  She’d accomplished her job and Vladimir hadn’t called back to give her another.  Her own flat was quite a ways off and without a car it would be a long walk.  If neither of them had taken advantage of her in her unconscious – not to mention mostly nude – state, she figured she could trust them enough to spend the night.  “I guess you’re right.  I’ll stay.”

Ulbrecht looked relieved at her decision.  She saw something else in his expression that she couldn’t place.  He hid the expression quickly and she was left wondering what the look meant.

Deciding it didn’t matter, she lay back in the bed and waited for the pain meds to kick in.  Ulbrecht asked if she was hungry and she nodded.  He went into the small kitchen to make something.

As she waited, two things happened almost simultaneously.  Nadya’s cell phone – sitting on the nightstand – rang.  And at the door, there was a knock.  She reached over and answered the phone, putting it to her ear.

Across the room, Greta set her sewing materials down and got up, heading for the door.

The voice on the other end of the phone was hurried.  “Nadya,” it was Vladimir.  “They’re onto you.  Leave now.”

Nadya’s eyes widened and she closed the phone, looking over to where Greta was just answering the door.

“Stop!” she yelled, but it was too late.

As the door opened, the man on the other side raised the barrel of the shotgun he held and fired.  Greta’s stomach was obliterated and the large girl was knocked back, blood spraying from her back.  She fell to the floor, already dead.

Nadya lurched up and – with no other weapons handy – hurled her cell phone at the shotgunner entering the apartment.  The small phone flew across the room and smashed the man in the nose, making him stumble back through the door and into the man just behind him.  She jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and back, and charged the open door.

Leaping into the air as she got within range, she extended a leg outwards and smashed it into the stumbling man’s face.  His jaw shifted unnaturally at the impact of her sock-covered foot.  The man was forced further back into the hall, knocking the guy behind him to the ground.

Dropping into a standing position, she glanced down the hall in time to see two more armed men raising their guns at her.  She ducked back into the apartment a moment before they fired, slamming the door shut.

Ulbrecht had come out of the kitchen at the sound of the first shot.  He stared down at Greta’s corpse in shock.

“Weapons?” Nadya asked him.

He made no response and she turned to him, giving him a hard smack across the face to snap him out of his daze.

It seemed to work.

“Weapons!” she yelled.

Ulbrecht looked around the apartment, shaking his head.  “Nothing…”

She looked down at his hand and saw that he held a chopping knife.  She took it from him then shoved him towards a window.

“Fire escape?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Use it!”  She turned back to the door as it was kicked open again, the two hit men moving through.  Out in the hall, the man with the broken jaw was crying, still pinning the man under him to the ground.

Nadya dodged to the side as the two men opened fire and she hurled the knife at one of them.  The blade slammed into his throat, blood spraying out and making him gurgle as he dropped his gun and reached for the knife.  Pulling it free, his blood spurted with more force.  He fell to the ground, both hands clamped around his throat.

Nadya moved forward again, raising a leg to kick the second man’s pistol out of her face before she lunged, tackling him to the ground.

In an attempt to force her off of him, the goon inadvertently grabbed hold of her wounded shoulder.  His fingers dug into the bullet scrape.

“You motherfucker!” she cried out, slamming the palm of her free hand into the side of the man’s face.  His cheekbone shifted under the blow.  She slammed her palm into his head again, this time smashing into his temple.  Several more blows and the man released his grip on her shoulder.  There was a stunned look in his eyes and blood trickling from his nose and ears.

Pushing to her feet, Nadya let out an angered almost snarl-like sound from her throat which was actually Russian.  “Cocksucking whore!”  She raised her foot over the dazed man and brought the heel down into the bridge of his nose.  The bone shattered and blood gushed from his nostrils.  She stomped down on him twice more, just as hard.  When she stopped, her sock was coated in blood and the man was dead.

A stray shot nearly ended her life as it skimmed by her head.  Her hair shifted from it and her heart leapt up her throat for a moment.

“Mother fuck!” she yelled.

She turned and looked out into the hall and saw that the pinned man had worked enough of himself free to aim his pistol at her.  He just didn’t have enough mobility to aim it very well.  She charged, anger still flooding her face, and the man tried to adjust his aim.  He managed one more shot that went wide and nicked the frame of the apartment’s door, and then she was on him.

Nadya kicked out with her foot, knocking the pistol out of the man’s hand and sending it skidding down the hallway.  She spun with the kick, putting her back to the man briefly as she jumped into the air and brought her other leg up for a second kick.  As she finished her spin and faced the man again, she extended her leg and smashed her foot into his mouth.  The man’s head flew back, blood and teeth spewing from his mouth as he fell back to the floor.  Dazed or unconscious, she didn’t know and didn’t waste time to check.

She crouched down over the two wounded men and made short work of them, snapping each of their necks.

Nadya relieved the dead man with the broken jaw of his shotgun, pumping a fresh shell into it.

As she did, she heard the elevator ding as it stopped on the floor.  She turned to face the lift, raising the shotgun, ready for more armed goons.  The gate began to slide up to allow the occupants of the elevator to exit but it never managed to open fully.

A furred fist slammed into it.  There was the sound of metal bending and then a loud twang as the gate was knocked clear of its tracks, sending it smashing into the wall on the other side of the hall.  Nadya’s eyes widened as she saw the hulking beast emerge from the elevator.  The head was distinctly wolf-like but it walked upright, like a human.  It was covered in midnight black fur.  And the sheer size and bulk of muscles it had was something that neither wolf nor man possessed.

“Son of a fucking bitch…” Nadya muttered.  “Goddamn werewolf…”