Primal Gambit

Chapter 52: Darwin Makes a Call

Vikhr's ancient phone vibrated in his pocket. Because it had never stopped functioning properly the Siberian never saw any reason to purchase a later version. Under the mask of night, any sound would have revealed his position. He grabbed for it furiously, yanking it into his gloved hands and suffocating the volume of the buzzing device. A small cardboard flap drooped before his eyes, the small hut left battered from months of rain, ash, and decay. His position was ideal – among the scores of squatters, he would never be seen.

Surrounding Panther Hollow the weather was clear. Only the gnats riddled the skies, swarming about the area, consumed by the stench of low tide. When his burly paws swiped the screen, the illumination drew the interest of a nearby homeless man, who crawled closer beneath folds of cardboard and dew-drenched canopy. Vikhr warded him off with one hand and a growl, keeping him at bay as he answered the call:

"Whoever this is, it's not the best time." As always, it was straight to business with the Siberian as he muttered the first words through a raspy wheeze.

"I'm sorry, 'not the best time?' You're the one who made it that way, Vikhr. Maybe tonight would have been a better time had you not fucking blown up a building in your search for the professor. Why didn't you consult me?" Darwin roared from the other end, a caged beast finally showing the world it's true grit.

"It wasn't your place. Your psyche cannot handle the weight of death. That is why you are weak and I am strong. It's why you hired me in the first place, no? Time to step aside." Vikhr whispered in deep tongue, overpowering the lesser man through the phone.

"The time for fancy wordplay is over, Darwin. You gave me a job, so let me work. I will listen to your bullshit once I have Shuke. Until then, don't call unless it's something I need to know. Understand?" Though Vikhr wanted to release a roaring bellow through the phone, he was forced to keep his temper at a whisper.

"If I had known I would have been wading through so much shit for your missteps I'd have hired someone else." Darwin's disappointment was clear.

"But you didn't. You hired me. Now deal with the fallout or find someone else. I'll let you make the choice." The lake almost resided within a dark zone, the connection between the call flaring in and out of coherence.

"I'm watching the news right now, Vikhr. The death toll is at 53, including five children. Someone has to come clean for that at some point."

"In an attempt to capture your esteemed professor, the death toll became 53. I will learn to live with it – they were sacrificed for a greater cause. No one has to come clean. Your country is so concerned about the war they'll think it was an act of terrorism to spread fear and paranoia."

"Sacrificed for a greater cause? Arthur Shuke is not worth the taking of 53 fucking lives, Vikhr!" Darwin had become so violent, the Siberian thought he could smell the alcohol on his words.

"No, he is not worth it. Rescuing my people is. You need to understand something, Darwin. I don't work for you. I work for me. You were just the first contractor with a well-paying job. No more, no less." He grunted, continuing to keep the squatter at bay with his free hand. Inside the shack beyond the docks he could see the movement of two silhouettes.

"That's fine Vikhr but I didn't intend to hire a mercenary who is killing people everywhere he stops. The trail of your murders since you've been in the States draws a line to where you are at all times. Your notoriety is already spreading to where the newsfeeds have the name 'The Siberian' jotted across the top in big black letters and saying it in the boroughs sends people fleeing for cover. That might be how it works back where you're from, but word travels faster than action here. People will know what you've done before it even registers with you. Understand?" The condescendence in Darwin's power trip infuriated Vikhr, who remained silent once he finally shoved the squatter away for good – brandishing his knife.

"Oh, I understand. What I don't, however, is when you were going to tell me that Doerrman and his lover were the kidnappers. Care to explain the link there?"

Vikhr had come to realize how the mastermind had found him: a single mercenary in a warring country. He wanted to let his words sit in and fester in the puppeteer – wanted him to know that the Siberian wasn't someone who could be manipulated with such ease. As Darwin fumbled over the phone on his words, Vikhr cut him off.

"I'll let you think about that. I'm still going to find your man – I need the money. But I can't promise once this is over I won't kill you in cold blood and clear my name before going back home," he paused, wondering if the timing to pounce was just right, "I'll also let you think about that." He grinned even though nobody could see him. It still felt right.

"Goodbye, Darwin." He turned the phone off and slid it back into his pocket. Leaning forward on his haunches, a strange calmness washing over him.

He was coming upon the couple again, having followed them from the burning apartment to here – a secluded area on the adjacent side of The Yard, a lake riddled with toxins and rubble. Part of him felt sorrow for them, as he knew he would not leave them alone until the professor was in his possession. This time, however, he was hoping that the transaction would be a bit more peaceful.

Brushing himself off, he stood up from the cardboard scaffolding and moved towards the centuries-old bait and tackle.