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Walking down 6th Avenue in Dogtown was a harrowing experience for any person who hasn’t been living here for at least a decade or more. Somehow people say it takes time to get used to all the blood in the alleys. Everyone here has to carry their own piece, the law of Dogtown states it; shoot first, asking questions not necessary.
It had been just a few hours since Mylene left my office. She put me on a job, told me that she had to know if I could be trusted before she told me exactly what was going on. When the Mob-lords woman tells you something like that, you can’t help but feel a shiver down your spine. I don’t think the cold November air helps either.
It had been a confused day so far; I had a 100 grand in my front pocket and a worrying load on my head. And there was another emotion I had to keep control on whenever I saw Mylene. There should be some law against women being so beautiful; I couldn’t deny that Vadim was a lucky man. Ruthless, true, but lucky nonetheless. Thinking on those lines I should have realized that it was madness to do anything for The Russian’s woman. If he ever found out that she had come to me, he’d probably kill her quick and make my death slow. Me and Vadim went back a long way, it was a wonder neither of us held a grudge. But this would be unforgivable.
I reached the door I wanted before I knew it. Building 66, on 6th Ave. I always grinned when I saw the other 6 inscribed next to the building number. This was a fortress of South Dogtown. The place where the Russians openly bought their weapons and the Italians did so secretly. The place belonged to Solomon Sachs, known to everyone only as Silas. The smartest son of a bitch I ever met. Smart, owing to the fact that he was still alive, as he supplied arms to both sides of the war. Few people knew the truth, as to why he still survived and his business thrived.
Silas was the only person who dealt arms to the Italians in South Dogtown, well not the only person, but the only person who could safely do so anyway. Everyone else was too afraid of the Russians to even consider it. But long back, dear Silas had a little chat with Vadim, back when the war was just starting. Silas knew that if his business was ever to make money, he couldn’t follow every other arms dealer and only supply the Russians. Because if he did so, then the Russians would win and the war would end, and so would his business. He knew, the longer the war stretched, the more money he would make. So when he met Vadim, he somehow convinced him to let him deal with the Italians, and showed him the advantage of keeping such a war going. He tells people that all it took was 3 bottles of quality vodka and Vadim was a generous man. Till date no one knows exactly what went on that day.
This place, the Devil’s home, was probably the best protected building in Dogtown, not counting the Russian Manor. At night no one was supposed to ring the bell, only those who were known were allowed in. The door bell in itself was a deadly trap. Once anyone rang the bell, you had 3 seconds to move onto a ledge right next to the door, because once you rang the bell, 2 double-barrel shotguns would fire through the letter box, 3 seconds later. It was the stupidest anti-theft device I had ever heard of, but that didn’t keep it from being the most effective.
I rang the bell, dodged the bullets and walked in once Silas opened the door. Silas was my closest comrade in Dogtown. We had helped each other out back when both of us were in the force. He was my partner and resigned voluntarily when I was removed. Said he knew I was crazy as a coot, but he’d much rather stick by my side than the blues. I still don’t remember why he kept saying he owed me so much. The place itself looked like an army tent waiting for the battalion to pick up their guns. Silas seemed as calm as ever.
“You ought to take those guns off your door sometime soon.” I said this every time. “Don’t want anyone you like ending up dead.”
“Its just temporary, I’ll take them down once Dogtown becomes safe.” He smiled a smile that cast a doubt on his sanity. I can’t believe I was the one declared mentally unfit while here was a stellar example of a man off-the-hook. “So what brings you to my humble abode? Coz I know it has to be big if Vic Sullivan comes walking down 6th at this unholy hour.”
“Does a friend need a reason to visit a friend?” I’m not a very convincing liar.
“That big, eh? Who is it? The Russians or The Italians this time?” his tone didn’t try to hide the sarcasm.
I decided to get to the point; after all, if there was a price on anybody’s head in this town, Silas was the one who knew all about it. “I had an interesting visit today evening, from someone I’m not too sure you like; Mylene Rivers.” He pretended the name didn’t matter, but I saw the slight flicker in his eye. “She thinks that someone has called a hit on her. And she seems pretty convinced its not the Italians, in fact she seems pretty convinced it’s someone from within the mob.”
“And you believe every word she said, just like that? You aren’t one to learn from past experiences are you, my friend?” He got to the point quite quickly himself. “I don’t know what Mylene wanted with you, but she’s a sly little snake who’s probably just using you to get back at someone in the mob that pissed her off and Vadim refuses to have him put down.”
“If that was the case, and she wanted someone dead, she would’ve gone to the Italians and have them finish the man off, she wouldn’t come to a washed up ex-cop like me for help. Mylene had told me she couldn’t trust anyone in the Mob with the fear for her own life hanging on her head.” She also told me not to go to Silas, but I decided to leave that part out of the conversation.
“And you trust the Russian’s mistress just like that? Even when you know what the Russian will do to you if he found out you were so much as talking to her? He’s letting us live right now is a thin thread my friend, don’t bring a blade close to it.”
He did have a point. The last man who had tried to chat up Mylene disappeared for a week. They found his body around town, at 5 different places. She was a dangerous woman, a death wish for anyone who tried to look at her in the wrong way. Why did my mind override logic when I looked into those brown eyes?
“It doesn’t matter whether I trust her or not, all I know if I’ve been given a job, the pay is 200 large, and frankly I could use the cash. Probably get me out of this god-forsaken city once and for all.” Such a blatant lie, I trusted her more than anything right now. “And all I want to know is can my old partner help me do the job so that I can look after my own skin better?”
“You don’t have to get all emotional on me Vic, we both know I’m going to help you out whatever way I can, I owe you too much to say no. All I’m saying is, careful where you tread, the Russian won’t take lightly to you snooping around the mobs business, and the Italians will be happier seeing you in a body bag at the Russians hands than theirs.”
“I knew I could count on you Silas,” I always could, but I dint think to say that part. “But you never tell what I did that you think you’re so much in my debt.”
“I’ll tell you when the time’s right. Till then you can take comfort in the fact that you have someone to always count on. And now if we’re done with business, let’s break out the whisky.”
Building 666 was the safest place in South Dogtown. At least for me. At least for the time being. Who do you have to fear when you’re a guest in the Devils Home?
The last thing I remember was the gunshot, but I couldn't really complain under the circumstance could I. I mean, I knew I was in for a rough time ever since she shimmied through that door, the light making a beautiful silhouette of her perfect body and that long cigarette burning a hole in my memory.
"Got a light?", the question sounded like a poem coming from her perfect red lips. I fumbled, for a moment, before she came over, oh so coolly, and lit her cigarette. I wasn't too sure if it was a glimpse of the fire in her eyes or something more sinister. I made my peace with the reflection argument, the truth could wait for a bit.
There were a million questions running through my mind, "Who is she? Why does she seem so familiar? Whats she doing here? and What does she want?". I decided to start with the first one and work my way down.
"So, I dint quite get your name", very original, Casanova.
"Mylene" she whispered, "Mylene Rivers."
I'm sure she heard my stomach hit the ground. Guess that answers my second question. Now I'm not sure if I should ask the other two. After all, no one will want to be sitting face to face with the mistress of the biggest mobster in Dogtown.
Vadim "The Russian" Alexiev. Few people dared to cross paths with Vadim, those who did had been missing for a long time now. I did not wish to be one of them.
"So you either need my help, or want me dead. Which is it that brings you knocking on my door?"
"I heard about you," the reply seemed convincing, "The cops cant help me. Vadi pretty much owns the force, and if I go to anyone else I'd be dooming them with me."
"Aah, so you DO want me dead." Maybe I shouldn't be so judgmental, "what makes you so sure I can help you anyway?"
Her answer seemed rehearsed, like one of those actors practicing their lines in front of a mirror a million times, just to get that eyebrow in the right flick and those lips stuttering with innocence, whatever it was, I fell for it; hook, line and sinker.
"I read your story" she said, "about how the Force kicked you out after you killed that kid, how everyone calls you mentally unstable, and how they say you are the only man who could stand up against the mobs of Dogtown."
"You're right on the first count, the second is just a matter of perspective, and as for the third, I wouldn't trust the people who told you that." I felt the need to clear her illusions about me. "What 'they' say is not completely true. Yes, I did take up a little battle against your 'loverboy', " I couldn't help but grin, "and yes I'm still alive, for the most part. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna get lucky again, and there ain't no way I'm putting my neck on the line for no damn good reason, even if the reason is a pretty dame like you."
She replied before I finished my point, "From what I heard, you dint get lucky. Aren't you the man they call Vic Sullivan? or maybe I'm looking for the man you used to be."
"That was a long time ago Miss Rivers. Times have changed, the mob owns Dogtown now, people disappear into the shadows and the body count keeps rising everyday. I don't intend to become just another statistic in the fight between the Russians and the Italians." Every word of this was true. These days everyone was included in the battle for Dogtown. You were either with a side or against it, each side either got you rich quick or dead quicker, it all depended on how good you were at killing your conscience.
"Well I need your help Vic, and I know for a fact that you are the best man for the job. And if you need a reason, I'll give you 200 large for your help," She slapped down one of those thick brown envelopes which you just knew were filled with cash, "Thats a 100,000 , you get the rest after."
She did have a point, sure she was the Mob lord's woman, and sure she had the money in her hand, but I'd be damned if any man could say no once he looked into those beautiful brown eyes. Curse you, Mylene, I knew then, you'd be the end of me.
