Chapter 8

The night is calm. No wind blows. A chill hangs in the air and there is no doubt that winter is here. Ronnie throws down his cigarette and stomps it out before heading back in. “Fuck, it’s cold out there,” he says walking back into the control office.

“That’s what I love about South Dakota, it gets cooler faster,” Daniel, his co-worker, says as he sits and looks at the various screens in front of him. With all the attacks on power plants taking place, the Twin Falls Power Plant has installed more cameras throughout the facility. The job was difficult enough having to view a bunch of screens, but now it’s worse having a multitude of them. “I thought you were planning to quit.”

“Still in the planning stages,” Ronnie says laughing. “This weather might help speed it along though.”

Daniel returns the laugh. “That’s what I said about my last marriage.”

“The weather decided it?”

“No,” Daniel says, shaking his head. “But I planned to make it work.”

“The plan failed then,” Ronnie counters. “That’s what, your fourth divorce?”

They both burst out laughing heartily. Ronnie has never been married and from the stories Daniel tells, he never plans to be. A bang at the door stops the laughter and causes both men to jump. They reach for their guns and aim them at the door.

“You gonna get that?” Daniel asks.

“Fuck,” Ronnie sighs. “Why do I have to?”

“Cause I’ve been with the company longer which makes me your boss,” the other man reasons.

The banging comes at the door again, this time louder and more forceful. “What the fuck! Where the hell are those guards?” a voice yells from the other side.

“Shit man, it’s Mr. Arthur,” Ronnie whispers.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiot,” Daniel says pushing Ronnie toward it. “Open the damn door before you get us both fired.”

Both the men holster their guns. Ronnie swings the door open. The form of Mr. Arthur turns around. His face is red and he is not in a good mood at all. “What the fuck took you so long?” he screams. “You two in here butt fucking?”

“Sorry, Mr. Arthur,” Ronnie tries to apologize. “We thought you were someone else.”

“I hired you to guard, not to think,” the boss man says angrily. “Now come with me. There’s an inspection.”

“Yes, sir,” Ronnie says.

Daniel laughs at the other man as he leaves. Ronnie turns to give him the finger.

“I know with these attacks, everyone is a little rattled,” Mr. Arthur says, sounding a lot less angry. “It is why I’ll let that go back there. But if I’m to rely on you, it means that you’ll need to get it together and be on your toes. You got that?” he asks, turning the corner.

“Yes, sir. No problem, sir,” Ronnie says, lagging a couple of feet behind the rotund man. He notices that he is lagging and jogs forward to catch up. When he rounds the corner, his boss is nowhere to be seen. “Mr. Arthur?” he calls out, voice a little shaky. He knows such a large man cannot move that fast.

Of course there is no answer. The only sound is the clanking of metal and the flowing water of the river below. Suddenly he feels a breath on the back of his neck. He turns to face a man with night vision goggles on. Before Ronnie can scream out, he feels a searing pain in his stomach. He looks down to see a knife jabbed into him. The figure pulls the blade free and Donnie’s body falls to the steel grate like a lifeless doll.

Daniel has watched the entire thing on camera four. He watched his boss’ throat slashed as he was yanked over the railing. He saw his co-worker gutted and left to die. Swallowing hard, he runs out the door, drawing his gun from the holster. When he reaches the site where it all went down he finds the man with the knife still there. “Fuck you, asshole!” he cries out, pulling the trigger and shooting the man.

Bullets tear right into the killer’s body. The impact causes him to back into the railing. He loses his footing and falls down toward the river. Daniel then runs over to where Donnie’s body lay. He puts his hand to the fallen man’s throat, but there is no pulse—no sign of life. He decides that he needs to go and get help. Who knows how many more assassins there are. And as he rises from the body of his co-worker, he feels a pop in his neck. Before he knows it—before his brain can register it—his head hits the ground and rolls away from his body.

Stalokavich isn’t in any rush to get back to his manor. The Russian police won’t be looking for him. Black Dragon fills their pockets every month with enough money to turn and look away, even at the rape and murder of their own wives and daughters. He had set up the raid. He didn’t really like the idea, but he couldn’t entirely go against the council. He is lucky to be placed in the position he is in. When Maltaus came to him offering power, Stalokavich almost turned it down. But once he saw what happened to Ghost, he was glad that he hadn’t.

Power is what the council promises. Stalokavich got a taste of that power running this section of Winter and he is not about to give it up. Walking through the doors of his manor, his eyes go straight to the chair where Maltaus now sits.

“You have done as ordered?” the beast asks.

“Yes,” the gangster says. “As long as Maykov does her part, your plan will work.”

“I have no doubts in her abilities,” the Goji says confidently. “As we speak the Russian army is fortifying their positions along the border, With General Tsu Wei’s army occupying South Africa, the council has use for Black Dragon’s soldiers.”