Levon's Trade by Chuck Dixon

Author:Chuck Dixon [Dixon, Chuck]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime, War & Military, Thrillers & Suspense, Kidnapping, Vigilante Justice, Crime Fiction
Amazon: B00R52PKTW
Publisher: Bruno Books
Published: 2014-12-15T11:00:00+00:00

29

* * *

He was hungry, horny and sober. Three conditions he found intolerable.

Dmitry Kolisnyk tossed the remote across the room.

Dimi to his family. Dean Collins to his friends.

There was serious shit coming down and his Uncle Symon wanted to talk to him. They dragged him out of a strip club on 19 in the middle of a private session. All drama, these Old World assholes. Have to make a thing out of what could be accomplished over the phone.

For now, he waited.

He threw himself back in the king-sized bed and looked at himself in the mirrored ceiling. He wore Buccaneers warm-up pants and jacket. His gold crucifix glowed on his spray-tanned chest. He ran a hand over his gym-rat abs. No prison muscle for him.

His father and his ‘uncles’ were proud of their years inside. They wore getting caught like a soldier wears his medals. Their ink told their story in a kind of illustrated code. Something they should all be ashamed of and they turned it into a club. Smart criminals didn’t get caught. Smart criminals skated. The only ink on Dimi was a Bacardi bat on his right forearm and a winged pixie with big tits on the other. Jesus, he was drunk that night.

The red walls of the room were making him crazy. As was the faux gold trim on the heavy Mediterranean furniture and the ankle-deep carpet on the floor. There was nothing on the TV at this hour of the day. Niggers arguing in phony courtrooms and white people arguing at tables. He couldn’t even look out a window. The black velvet curtains that covered one end of the room hid a bare cinderblock wall.

This place looked like a hotel room but it was all just a set. It was a property Uncle Symon owned in an industrial park in Largo. He leased it to some Lebanese outfit and they set it up as a porno studio. The Arabs divided it into separate rooms each equipped with HD cameras sending out a live feed of whatever was happening in the rooms. How many couples, threesomes and gang bangs had happened on this bed?

When Symon found out about the operation he sent his Cossacks to throw the Lebs out on their asses. The Vor was puritanical like that. They’d steal the coins off a dead man’s eyes and take the change out of a poor box. They’d kill and smuggle and extort and defraud without losing a moment’s sleep. They ruined lives and bankrupted businesses. But they didn’t like dealing drugs and they didn’t like whoring out women.

Dimi wondered at that. Most Vor never married. They would keep a woman, sometimes many women, but few stood before a priest or rabbi to take the vows. Their children were all bastards. They owed an allegiance to each other that was deeper than the bonds of marriage or family. Women and kids could come in the way of that; make a man consider choices that were not in the best interest of the brotherhood.

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