1

One

A woman in Belarus gives birth, scared, Russian husband gone to war, then gone.
Mind racing, how can she work with no one to take care of her infant? How can
she feed an infant with no money? How to feed herself? A mother for a minute,
confused, churning with anxiety.
The midwife snips the cord, ties it to wither off the baby naturally. As she's wiping
blood from the infant, the mother cries out again. Midwife turns.....repeat
performance, less screeching this time, the birth portal widened by the first. Out
slips another one just like the other one. Girls.
The mother is settling, midwife finds it strange, the babies came silently, silent
while they are cleaned. Shrill screams when they are swaddled and laid on separate
sides of the mother.
"What's wrong with them?"
Midwife has a thought, takes left girl and puts her next to right girl. Silence.
Mother takes a stab at breast feeding, complains her nipples are too sensitive.
Doesn't matter, she's empty, the babies will need milk.
"What am I to do? I have no money for one, now I have two."
"There is a woman, she can care for them while you work. It will be fine. You have
two beautiful healthy girls, they will take care of you before long. In the meantime,
God will provide, he will not allow such treasures to waste away."
Mother is unconvinced. God, if there is one, has sent a curse. Her husband dead six
months, now she's a widow with two hungry brats. She is beautiful, her husband
strong and handsome, she will be old before her time with no chance of a new
husband, not with these two in tow. Pity the child with a frightened, resentful
mother. The firstborn, bad enough, but one might have been bearable. The second
she sees as a throwaway. She has no affection for either, as they grow her
frustration grows. The second receives most of the random blows, slaps, even
sharp kicks. The child has done nothing, just there.
The sisters endure, they are six, so lovely it’s almost painful, like an ice cream
headache in your eyes. Mother has fresh resentment, she’s twenty six, works as a
housekeeper in a home where even the possibility of meeting a man is out of the
question. Two old people, wealthy enough to afford her, have no children, only
friends are other old people. In four short years she will be thirty, almost dead for
Belarus. A country brimming with gorgeous young girls, too many and not enough
men, men who go to war; men who don't return. Or return in no condition to
support a wife and family.
 2

The twins are intelligent, brilliant in school. The second has a near mystical
memory, there is talk of sending her to a special advanced school. Mother makes a
mistake, she relishes telling the girls they may be separated and why.
Mysteriously, the second sinks to mediocre, an average student. The teachers
decide she must have had a flash of brilliance, but as the work got more difficult,
she regressed. No big deal after all. Mother is incensed, the possibility of the
second being sent away and cared for by the state slips past. Second is in for
worse, it’s her fault mother is wasting away.
Valeria is the firstborn, Vika, the more unfortunate second. From infancy to this
very moment, no one has ever seen them smile. If you see one, you see the other,
they have no friends. They are diligent in school, punctual, even if bruised, or a
split lip or black eye. At school though, there was one incident. A boy who thought
pushing Valeria out of line was a good idea, he’s older and half again her size, she
just a small creepy girl. By the time the teachers pull Vika and Valeria off him, he
has a broken ankle, broken rib and needs stitches on his forehead and cheek.
Nobody bothers them anymore.
Mother disappears with a man. The girls never see her again. They are placed in a
temporary home on the Russian border, an old couple who want the stipend from
the state. They are not mean or disagreeable, they look after the girls as best they
can, the twins had long learned to care for themselves anyway. If they were happy
nobody could tell, content just to be left alone.
The old couple are approached by a woman. Money is exchanged. The girls cross
deeper into Russia. In a basement for three weeks, they have no idea where. The
woman and another man come with food, there’s a shower and toilet, a TV. They
are not mistreated, only imprisoned.
The woman comes and explains they are going to live in America. She shows them
pictures of a big house, a young man and woman, a dog. They want to adopt,
Russian twins are perfect, the man and woman are delighted. The twins express no
emotion, no argument about Belarus or Russia. If these people want to make them
rich American girls, they would play the part. They are seven, nearly eight. They
had seen little of the world, but everyone had heard of America, where shelves
overflow with goods and everyone has a new car.
They learned a bit of English at school, but Vika hid her memory skills. She could
memorize English in days, and she would teach her sister. Teach may even be
wrong. The girls move as one, think as one. Vika is the eidetiker, but Valeria can
access her sister's mind. If Vika memorizes English, Valeria can pluck it out. Still,
they practice. It isn't like they have anything else to do, and the woman is happy
they are learning the language, it would raise the price.
 3

An eleven hour flight from St. Petersburg to JFK, five to Houston. There's a big
house, not the one in the picture, no happy couple, no dog. There are three Russian
men.
Woman, "Beautiful aren't they?"
"Perfect, the bidding will go high, maybe highest price ever."
Woman, "Take the photos, and break them in, do it gently. The customers prefer
them prepared, virgins are messy and troublesome. Don't tear them up, damaged
goods are bad for business. Word gets around."
Russian One, "I like breaking them in. Screams and tears, then I give them kisses
and presents, the pain goes away. Like a dog, they love the one who feeds them. A
shame they have to leave, I may buy them myself."
"You don't want to have to explain them Anatoly, do you plan to keep them locked
up all the time?"
"No, they will learn to obey. And they could be useful when others are delivered,
help them adapt before we sell them."
"Might work. Make up your mind quickly, a week. We want the product fresh, not
used up."
"A week then, maybe after I deflower the angels they won't be as appealing to me."
The conversation is in Russian, the girls sitting across from them, as if what they
hear doesn't matter.
Vika speaks with no words to her sister, "We will fix this Russian pig."
Valeria, "Da."
Valeria, "We are thirsty, is it permitted to get water from kitchen?"
Russian One, "Sure, glasses in the cabinet," he turns to Russian Two, "show them."
He leads the girls to the kitchen, takes a glass, "Watch," he presses it against a
lever on the refrigerator, ice clinks out. Then a second lever and water splashes
into the glass.
He hands Valeria a second glass, "You do it."
While he watches, Vika studies the kitchen. A block of wood with slits, slits that
hold a selection of knives.
The girls are tired, jet lagged, yawning. It's late. They are taken to a room on the
second floor. The windows are barred. It has a bathroom with no window. The
door closes, a lock clicks, one to keep them in.
Valeria, "How do we get out?"
Vika, "We don't need to get out tonight. Better to sleep."
They shower, the hot water is relaxing. Soon they are curled together asleep.

*The twins can talk to each other mentally, read each other’s mind. Those
soundless conversations will be in italics.
 4

Two

The twins sleep late, well after midnight when they got to bed. At ten, the door
opens. It's the third Russian.
"Tea downstairs, and something to eat. Don't bother getting dressed, you just have
to take it off anyway."
The woman is gone, three men sit watching two naked children sip tea and split a
croissant.
Russian One, "You can swim in the pool after breakfast, we will take picture first."
The camera clicks, standing, sitting on the couch, lying on the floor face down and
up. It isn't for a child porn site. It's to whet the appetite of potential buyers.
Afterwards, Russian One and Two stroke and fondle the girls, get the product
accustomed to being handled.
Russian One, "They don't back away, they don't do anything. Good, it will be
easier to fuck them. Although I would prefer a bit of tears."
Two, "I like them compliant. Glad you get the virgin business out of the way first.
I like it to just slide right in," his right finger slides through a circle of his left
thumb and forefinger, he laughs.
Russian Three isn't around, gone to the grocery. He's not about little girls, he
prefers boys. There are three or four girls for every boy in their business. The
market for boys is good, supply is a problem. Girls are easier to buy in Russia or
India, boys can get jobs and help the family make money. Girls are a troublesome
expense all the way up to marriage, yet another expense. And marriage isn't so
easy with too many available females.
Valeria, "Can we haf glass of water?"
Russian Two, "You know where it is."
No reason to go with them, they know what to do, they're naked, where are they
going to go?
A few minutes passes, they don't return.
One, "Go check."
Two stands, "Probably just want to be left alone for a while," he walks through the
living room, into the dining room, the kitchen to the left.
As he enters, he says, "What's going....."
Two red lines appear across his throat, circle from the carotids right past the
Adam's apple, blood gushes down both sides of his neck. He's in shock, the last
thing he feels is cold. The girls leave him bleeding on the floor.
 5

Russian One, Anatoly, is fiddling with the camera, checking the photos, he doesn't
hear them approach. Occupied, head down, staring at the images. Valeria walks in
front of him, he glances up but can't see the knife she holds alongside her thigh.
He smiles, "These are very goo...."
Vika, behind him, swipes hard, deep into the right side of his neck, Valeria
duplicates left side, then jams the knife to the hilt between his ribs to his heart. The
camera thumps to the carpet, into a pool of blood. The man thumps to the carpet
right behind it.
The twins stare down blankly.
Vika, "Take camera, get rid of picture."
She yanks the knife from his chest. Valeria fools with the camera, figures out how
to delete. Even at eight, they're kids who went to school, rather good schools in
Belarus and Russia. Not born in a cave in Siberia.
Valeria comes in, "We leave now?"
"Nyet. Other one knows us. He dies, nobody knows us, woman is fly already to
New York."
They wait, two naked blood spattered children, crouched behind an SUV parked in
the garage. Viking butcher knives in their hands. One big chef's knife, the other an
eight inch serrated bread knife that can cut through bone.
Russian Three pulls into the garage, the door trundles down. He steps out of the
Mercedes sedan and leans in to collect the grocery bags. Hands full, he bumps the
door shut with his hip, moves to the garage entrance to the house. The two girls
emerge from behind the SUV. Three is in front of them, clueless. One moment he's
planning lunch, the next he's collapsed on the concrete, numb and cold, then feels
nothing at all.
Vika, "Give me knife, go take shower, wash hair."
Valeria goes upstairs, Vika thoroughly washes and dries the knives, slides them
into their slots in the wooden block. She goes to shower.
They take cash from the dead men, Vika says, "Check rooms, maybe more
money."
In Anatoly's bedroom, Valeria finds a small portable safe that opens with a key.
There’s a set of keys on the dresser, one for the car, house key, a couple of others.
The small one opens the safe. A few thousand dollars and a gun, box of bullets,
papers. She takes the money, gun and bullets to Vika, "Put it in the bag."
They came with a duffel bag and a few clothes, jeans, sneakers and t-shirts, a light
jacket each. Now they have ten thousand dollars, a Glock and a box of nine
millimeter ammunition.
Valeria, "Een America only one day, already reech."
Vika, "American dream. Time to go."
 6

Three

They walk out of the wealthy neighborhood and come on a busy divided street.
There's a bus stop, they get on and ride. It doesn't matter where the bus goes, only
that it goes away. They watch, stone silent. Vika absorbs street information, stores.
They ignore people taking a second look at two identical faces.
A few miles further, they get off. There's a park, a convenience store, a place that
sells sandwiches.
Valeria, "What ees Subway?"
"We can get something to eat. It must be okay, I saw three on the way here."
They get the foot long and split it, roast beef, cheese, peppers, tomato, bag of chips
and a soda. They feel better. Until now, they've had nothing but tea, a croissant and
bloody corpses.
For two weeks, they take the bus, get out to wander neighborhoods, sit in
Starbucks, McDonalds or Barnes and Noble. At night, they find a house for sale
and sleep in the back yard. They've bought backpacks, sleeping bags rolled up
inside. They take quick wipe down baths in restrooms, then discover hotel lobby
restrooms are the cleanest, some even have linen hand towels.
Twins create too much interest. They learn to go into stores and hotels separately.
One goes in to buy, the other waits outside. They comb their hair differently, wear
sunglasses and different style hats. Even with those few items and food, they spend
little, less than three hundred so far. Vika keeps the cash in a small metal safe they
bought at a Wal-Mart. It won't protect it from a stout screwdriver, but it's better
than nothing. And they have the gun to discourage any punks. Still, they are
careful, hang in good neighborhoods, when it's dark enough to sneak into a
backyard, they do. In the morning they leave, like kids walking to school.
Vika learns to load and unload the Glock, reads about guns in Barnes and Noble.
"We are going to need a permanent place and more money eventually."
Valeria, "Da. Ees risky to grab purse every time."
They found that a young girl could approach a woman sitting in a bookstore or
coffee shop, ask a question. Simple things, the time, where is such and such street,
is there a mall nearby? While one gets an answer, the other snags the purse and
evaporates. The marks don't even realize it's gone until they're leaving. The girls
had done it a half dozen times. They know not to take credit cards, just cash. Most
of the time the purse is found a few steps away, lying in the open. The women,
relieved to have their cards and driver's license, resolve to keep their purse slung
on their shoulder and let the matter drop.
The twins know this is not a permanent solution.
Vika notices that some homes have lights on at night, but no one is ever there. She
 7

studies the places. Some have signs in the windows about security alarms. In the
library, she gets on a computer and reads about home security. Armed with the
knowledge to spot wired houses, they look for ones with no system. When they
find it, it's a simple matter of breaking a back door pane of glass and letting
themselves inside. If the power is on, the water is on. They can shower, sleep in a
bed. They take turns sleeping, in case the owner shows up, but they never do. They
are careful to make sure curtains are tightly drawn, not a lot of lights going off and
on. If they watch TV, they keep the sound low. They often get a week or more in a
single house.
Tonight, Vika is asleep, Valeria is watching TV, the sound off, it's a foreign
language movie subtitled in English. She hears the grinding of the garage door. She
shakes her sister.
"Car."
A man, groggy from a long flight and a long drive from the airport, takes his
luggage from the back seat and trudges to the door from the garage to his kitchen.
When he flicks on the light, he's greeted with a hard bang on the head from a cast
iron frying pan. He pitches forward unconscious.
Vika, "Take money."
Valeria finds five hundred and fifty dollars in his wallet. She folds it into her
pocket, they leave through the back door and disappear.
Weeks turn into months surfing from house to house, a couple more close calls, but
being there when the owner came home had advantages. It was like an ATM
without a card and a pin number. There is also the inconvenience of two people
and kids coming in at the same time. When that happened, they just hit the door
and walk away. It's troublesome to have to be awake half the night, but there's no
fix for that. They can't rent a motel room or an apartment. Sleeping in houses for
sale is the safest, but they have to pay attention in case somebody came to look at
it. Usually the power is on and the water runs, no potential buyer wants to inspect a
dark house. They want to see if the toilet flushes, and if the faucets drip. The
drawback is there's an obvious broken window, or busted door. If an agent showed
the house, they couldn't return to it.
Vika finds a solution, buys a set of tools and teach themselves to pick locks. Now,
they just open the door. They walk neighborhoods, find a place with no one home,
which is easy when mom and dad both work. While one watches for cars, the other
roams the house. People keep a few bucks in desk drawers, a box in the closet, just
emergency cash. It nets them a few hundred dollars a week. Sometimes they find a
thousand or more. They don't make a mess, don't take anything but money. It could
be weeks before people even know it's missing. Guess it starts a few arguments,
everyone denying they took it.
 8

Valeria, "I luf America, people leaf money lying around, we just peek up."
Vika, "We have more money now than when we left Russian pimp asshole."
They buy money belts, the little cash box they have is too small for all of it.
They spend hours in the library self educating. One librarian asks why they aren't
in school, Vika says they are from out of town, mother is visiting an aunt in the
hospital. After that, they go to libraries after three thirty or on Saturdays. They
learn the routines of America, holidays, stores that are open all night, bus routes,
get the hang of English. Fast food is ubiquitous and cheap, the girls aren't big
eaters anyway. Malls are open all day and into the night, food courts and movie
theaters. Nobody thinks twice about kids at a mall.
They buy an IPad, since they can't open any phone accounts, no credit cards, can't
open even a bank account, they rely on wifi hotpots. Simple enough, most coffee
shops, McDonalds, Barnes and Noble, the library, all have internet access. Have to
buy things from physical stores, no way to open an account at Amazon and no
place to ship stuff if they did. But Houston is a big city, there's no shortage of
stores. Sometimes they lift a purse to stay in practice. Occasionally take a credit
card along with the cash. It's no good for cash advances without a pin. Once they
got lucky and the card had the pin written on it. They got the machine to cough up
a thousand dollars. With a card, they can buy things and use the self checkout.
New clothes, coats and hats for winter, sneakers, simple as long as they use the
card right away. One store and they ditch it.
It's not hard to live this way, just inconvenient. They can't fill a refrigerator, lay in
their own bed, own anything they can't carry. It does make the days speed by,
there's no getting comfortable without getting caught.
Occasionally, at a mall or movie, boys will come around. The girls revert to
Russian, which interests the boys for a little while, but they soon lose interest in
girls that don't respond to anything they say.
Vika, "People want to talk all the time. Boys the worst."
Valeria, "Da, we are pretty, they are boys. We speak Russian, they go away. We do
not haf friend. Friend ees problem."
"People are problem. Except when they are not home so we can steal money."
"We should go someplace and shoot gun. We need to know how it works."
"I read about it. Hold tight, gun will kick up. But we will go someplace and shoot."
They take a bus out to the far reaches. There’s a development, and past that a
development in progress, then dirt. The go far enough to be out of sight, the sound
might carry, but they aren't going to be long.
Vika, "Pick a target, maybe ten meters. Gun is no good for long distance, we have
to practice first."
Valeria fires the Glock, she's strong, the gun kicks up a bit, she misses the rock
 9

she's aiming at, but not by much. They take turns, use about half the box of bullets.
The last half dozen shots, they are accurate at ten or fifteen meters.
Vika, "Good enough, we need to save bullet. They won't sell to us."
"Een America, many people haf gun. We will steal bullet, maybe more gun."
And they do. It's Texas, every third house has guns. In a month, they have five
boxes of ammo for the Glock, two revolvers and ammunition for those. Carting
around the stuff is getting heavy.
Valeria, "We need a place to keep things."
"Wal-Mart haf everything, we will go."
They buy two waterproof safes big enough for the guns and ammunition, and a
shovel. Find a secluded spot in a park, dig a hole twice as deep as the safe, put it in
and fill the hole. Repeat a few yards away, throw away the shovel.
Vika, "Shovel ees cheap. When we need gun, buy shovel, or steal one from house,
everybody has shovel."

Four

Our twins are thirteen, nearly five years living off the grid, right in the middle of
the grid. They spend a lot of time walking, they're in excellent shape. In Belarus
and Russia, schools teach young kids hygiene, they know to take care of their
teeth, to wash their hands, keep their hair clean. They took gymnastics in school,
they keep themselves flexible and toned.
They learn the characteristics of the three guns. It's a bit of a pain, go dig up the
safe, put it back, dig it up again to store the guns. Options are limited but the girls
are practical about life. They are Slavic, a hard life is matter of fact, there are
problems with everything. They accept that, fighting it just leads to more problems,
frustration doesn't solve anything.
Tonight, they’re walking to the house du jour, past a club of some sort, they hear
music blaring, it's not late, only eight thirty. In a dark parking lot, there's an
argument.
Woman, "I told you Titus, this is the money. I got no more money, business is
slow, ask the other girls."
Titus, "So mo' bitches can lie? Hoes lie. They fuck and suck and lie. Plenny
business if you hustle yo' ass."
""I'm tired Titus, not feeling well, I think I got something."
A slap, "You gon' get something bitch,” another slap, a yowl from the woman.
"Okay, okay, beatin’ me ain't gettin’ you no money."
"Hit the street, or I give you a reason to feel bad, real motherfucking bad," another
slap.
 10

A black man comes out of the dark, Vika and Valeria are off to the side, in the
shadow of a wall. He doesn't see them. Neither does the woman, she staggers out,
not a woman, more a girl, maybe twenty, she mumbles, "Fucker, if I could find
somebody, I'd pay good money to have your ticket punched."
Vika, "You want man dead?"
She spins, blinks, sees only Vika. She wearing a hoodie, age indeterminate.
"I wish he'd get run over by a bus."
Vika, "How much?"
"How much? A lot, as much as I ever wanted anything."
"How much money?"
She's nonplussed, "Money for what?""
"To kill fucker."
The woman blinks, like she's on slow bandwidth.
Vika, "If you want dead, I will kill. You pay me, he will be dead in a day."
"I don't know you, you step out of the shadows and say you'll off his ass. I give
you money, you disappear, I'm fucked."
"Already fucked. But I understand. I will kill him. Then you will pay me five
thousand dollars. Do you have five thousand dollars?"
She laughs, "If I had five thousand fucking dollars, I wouldn't be standing here."
"So, what do you have?"
The woman is young, but she makes a life on the street, she's savvy, and wary.
"A thousand."
"What else?"
"What do you mean what else, I look like I got anything but a smack habit?"
"Maybe you know more people who need to be dead. Maybe someone else will
pay to make them dead."
She thinks about it, "I know lots of people who want someone dead."
"Okay. Maybe we make business."
"You can do that? Off somebody, just like that?"
"Already did, men who sell children. Black man, he is here every night?"
"Yeah, operates his girls out of the club."
"You come tomorrow, show me one thousand. Then he is dead, you give me
money. If you want business, we make plan. If not, you are anyway free of fucker."
"I got the money, if you pull it off, you get your money. I would get you more,
from his other girls, but one of them will run to Titus. Try to get on his good side.
He don't have no good side, but some of them wanna believe."
"Good, never tell anyone, only trouble."
She leaves to make a living, Vika walks down the block the other way, Valeria
appears.
 11

"How do we keel man?"

"He will go home sooner or later. We wait, you have a gun."
They carry one of the revolvers all the time. Not with a plan to rob or kill anyone.
It's dangerous, sleeping in empty for sale houses. When it's cold, sometimes
vagrants came around, trying for open windows or unlocked doors. Stupidity isn't
income, it's an expense. The twins keep expenses to a minimum.
They wait, watch the parking lot. It's late, nearly one. Titus comes out of the club,
gets into a Lincoln Navigator, fires it up and drives off. Bass thumps against the
windows.
Vika, "Simple."
They walk to tonight's temp house.
Valeria, "Always een America, everywhere empty house, and still more house
building someplace. Why?"
"America has too much everything. A hundred kinds of bread in store, most
thrown away. Gas pump every corner, three people in three cars, bus empty. Plastic
bag, plastic cup, paper all over street, giant dumpster everywhere, full of trash.
Everyone fat."

Five

Vika is three blocks from the club, it's ten o'clock. Valeria is back in the shadows.
The prostitute makes an appearance, shows the cash.
"I gotta find a place to stash it, Titus finds it on me, he takes it."
"I will hold it. Better anyway. Once man is dead, you don't want to be around."
"How do I know you don't just leave?"
Vika shows the gun, "I am back, like I said. Here is gun. What is name?"
"Penny."
"You have phone?"
"Sure."
"I will call when job is done, just say finished. If you want to go in business, we
will meet someplace. If not, okay, Titus fucker is dead, you are free. Give me
number."
"You got something to write with?"
"I remember."
"I gotta get to rehab, my habit is under control, but I'm losing it, wanting just a
little more. I'm gonna go under if I keep doing it. Junkies never think they're
junkies until it too late."
"Then go, nobody can prevent after tonight. Even earn your thousand dollars
back."
 12

Penny, "How?"
"Simple things. Legal, no risk. We will talk tomorrow. Go now, be seen someplace
away from here for a few hours."
She moves off, the twins walk the few blocks to the club. Navigator parked in the
same spot as last night. It's ten thirty, they settle in the dark edges to wait. It's a
weeknight. A few people leave, it's getting late for new arrivals.
Titus appears at quarter to one, there's a man with him. They have a short
conversation, the second man turns, heads back to the club. Titus is getting into the
SUV, Valeria steps into the light.
"You Titus?"
"Who wants to know?"
"Valeria. I'm looking for work, and a line on some coke."
She steps closer, still a few feet away to his left. He can see she's young, obviously
not a narc unless they've started recruiting kids. He can also see she's pretty.
He steps forward, "Yeah, I'm Titus, maybe you come to the right place, who sent
you?"
"Penny, she has something for you."
Vika is behind the pimp. The gun pops, back of his head implodes.
As soon as he hits the asphalt, Valeria is in his pockets. Fat rolls of cash in his
jacket and pants. She stuffs them in her bag, the twins disappear into the shadows,
out a side street. Music in the club masked the gunshot, nobody stumbles on Titus
for an hour.
Next afternoon, Vika meets Penny in a small park, public place, quiet during the
weekday.
"You did it. Jesus, you're a kid."
It's only Vika, Penny doesn't know from twins, Titus doesn't know from anything
anymore.
"Too young to get apartment, bank account, even internet, no credit card. You can
make money if you arrange."
Penny, "I guess. I'm not going to be able to turn tricks for a while. Like I said, I
need rehab. I seen girls get strung out, start doing anything. Whoring is one thing,
what the real strung out junkies get into I gotta stay out of."
"I will give you money for helping. Rehabbing is anyway free."
"Well, yeah, I gotta move on after thirty days though. They'll give me methadone
or some shit. But I wanna get clean, not swap one habit for another."
"You have apartment?"
"Yeah, but two other girls live there."
"I already find a place. Nice old lady owner, clean, quiet. Make arrangement. Then
get bank account. Hook up internet. I will give you money for bank account. Then
 13

you go to rehab, call me when finished. You have driving papers?"

"Driver's license, yes. Yeah, and a debit card, no credit card."
"Good. I will give you money for bank account, different bank. You get debit card,
give it to me. I will make deposit."
Penny, "I don't understand why you're doing this. You seem to have money, you a
runaway?"
"Yes, runaway. Parents abuse, want to sell me to child prostitute people, I run
away."
"How do you live? Where do you sleep?"
"Not your problem. What about other business?"
Penny, "I don't know, maybe after rehab. I'm no good to you anyway, not until
that's done. I can get this other stuff first, then I got to get clean."
"Good. How long?"
"Three, four days."
"I will call. Here is your thousand, plus five hundred. When you have the other, I
will pay more, you will make deposit in bank."
From Penny's perspective, this is a gift from out of the blue. One day she's a
punching bag for a pimp, the next she's getting a shot at cleaning up. She doesn't
know if she wants to get in the hit for hire business, but she knows people who
want people dead. Maybe it's okay, after all, she's not killing anyone, right?
Walking home, Penny thinks it over, the girls that worked for Titus are celebrating.
Penny shrugs, it's only a matter of time before a new pimp decides he's taking over
Titus' string. Celebration is not only premature, it’s pointless. It's a whore's view of
the world, if I'm not getting hurt right now, everything is great. The future is the
next hour.
The next day Penny gets the bank account, arranges to rent the house.
“I got your card and the key to the house, need a ride over or anything?”
“No, get drug problem fixed, we will talk after.”
“I gotta rent myself a place, get away from the other two girls. Theys gonna be
whoring for somebody else soon enough. I’m done with it. I’ll call when I bust out
of rehab.”
As far as Penny knows, there is only one girl. While she's in rehab, Vika and
Valeria are surfing the internet. They have an Amazon account, Netflix and basic
cable.
The landlady gets a check right on time, lives across town, which in Houston is
forty miles. It's a place she inherited from her deceased sister, she has no use for it.
A friend told her to try for a rental, showed her how to Craigslist it, now she has
fifteen hundred a month coming in to drip out to the casino slots.
The twins buy two Vespa scooters online, they can get around town without
 14

waiting on buses. There’s an attached garage, the bikes stay inside. And they don't
have to dig up their weapons anymore. Stored in a much better safe now, cleaned
and oiled regularly. A workwoman is worthy of her tools.
Vika, "We need good knife."
Valeria finds a Benchmade Contego Axis, nine inches long, four inch blade.
"Benchmade ees good rating, sharp, also serrated cutting edge."
"Get two."

Six

By the time Penny gets out of rehab, the twins have collected several thousand
from break ins. They can pick a common door lock in fifteen seconds. The Vespas
allow them to roam far away from their neighborhood for home shopping trips.
They've added three 38 revolvers, a couple of twenty two automatics and two nine
millimeters to their weapons collection. Also stole a Remington twelve gauge and
one house yielded two Ruger mini-mags and several boxes of .223 ammo.
Our young ladies are amassing quite a little arsenal.
Trips out to the wasteland off the interstate and down state roads to dirt roads,
leads to isolated target practice spots. At home they learn the details of the guns,
how accurate at distance, they sight the rifles, carefully clean and lubricate, break
them down and reassemble. They need a second safe, big enough for rifles and a
growing stock of ammunition.
Vika, "The police can sometimes tell what gun bullet is from, but if bullet breaks
up, is almost impossible. Load with rubber glove, no fingerprint, no gunshot
residue. We shoot with rubber glove and throw away. Hair must be covered with
cap or scarf. I am learning about DNA. We must leave nothing behind."
Valeria, "Da, okay, I am remembering. You meet Penny today?"
"Yes, she may have work."
They leave to meet their new associate. Valeria will be invisible, Vika will do the
meeting. It's at a mall food court, people milling around, vapid music over the
speakers, people in zombie shopper mode. Nobody pays attention to jack. Vika
spots Penny at a table.
Penny, "I got coffee, you want something?"
"Nothing for now."
"I'm recovering, I keep enough caffeine in me to fuel a basketball team. Have
trouble getting to sleep. Better than going back to smack. I think I have a....job?...
lined up for you."
Vika says nothing, Valeria is in her head, "Why ees American always haf to talk
about nothing before something?"
 15

"Too much everything....including words."

Penny, "There's a woman, wants her husband gone."
Vika, "You did not say anything."
"No, I remember what you told me, nobody I know. Don't meet face to face, name,
location, photo of the contract and payment to a drop box."
"How does she know to call you?"
"Dixon, bar owner I've known for a while. I don't think he did, um, this kind of
work, more like drug deals, maybe sold guns. I'm sure he could kill someone, but it
would have to be personal, not for hire. For whatever reason, he bought the bar and
as far as I know quit the other stuff. Anyway, he mentioned it, just talking over the
bar. I gave him a number, in case whoever wanted to find a guy. I figure he don't
need to know it ain't a guy, and wouldn't think it's me either. She called yesterday,
I said I knew someone. I check the box the next few days, see if anything shows
up."
Vika, "Okay, good. Next time, you call me when the job is set, money collected,
not before."
Penny, "Sorry, I was kind of excited."
"Not a big deal. It is only to keep things simple. One trip to get information, not
two. How much?"
"Like you told me. Ten thousand, five in advance."
"You are doing good. If money shows up, call. I get package from you only. You
get half for risk of collecting money, I get half to do job. If we get more work, see
about charging more, cannot hurt to say fifteen or twenty. For now, ten is okay. If
job is out of town, twice as much."
Penny, "How do you get out of town, I mean, like fly, you have picture ID and
shit?"
"Yes. Drive lessons also. Now I will buy car."
"You have a license?"
"Yes, it says I am twenty one also. I have my own bank account now."
"Have a hard time looking twenty one."
"Makeup, besides, if ID says twenty one, people believe what they see on official
document. Close other account in your name."
"You don't waste time."
Vika skips the part about the accounts also being a fresh new identity. She applied
for, and got, social security numbers. Created a driver's license, hologram and all,
plus a birth certificate all from the magic of the internet. She made two sets, used
the names Katya and Katja Kazakova.
Penny, "You know, I don't even know your name."
“Vika,” she has no reason to reveal her new identity to Penny.
 16

**Reader note: The twins will go by the new names, Katya and Katja from now
on.**
Katya leaves, Katja is waiting downstairs, they hop on the Vespas and ride home.
Katja cooks, Katya does the technology. While she digs into hacking, Katja digs
into recipes online. On one of their housebreaking forays, they didn't find money or
guns, but they did find a full set of Cruset cookware still in the box. Now Katja is
into pot roast with vegetables, varied soups and bean dishes with chicken or pork
sausage. She likes a full breakfast, bacon or ham, eggs, with biscuits or pancakes.
If they are home all day, the main meal is at lunch, they rest in the afternoon.
Sandwiches or soup for dinner, preceded by vodka , they're Russian after all.
What are our twin assassins? Let’s check the DSM IV (Diagnostic and Statistical
Manual of Mental Disorders) criteria for anti-social personality disorder.
Antisocial personality disorder is the new catchall for what used to be psychopath
and sociopath. It is true, the twins have no empathy, and don't care what other
people think. Let’s checklist the criterion from the DSM V:
1. Impairments in self functioning (a or b):
a. Identity: Ego-centrism; self-esteem derived from personal gain, power, or
pleasure. (check)
b. Self-direction: Goal-setting based on personal gratification; absence of prosocial
internal standards associated with failure to conform to lawful or culturally
normative ethical behavior. (check)
AND
2. Impairments in interpersonal functioning (a or b):
a. Empathy: Lack of concern for feelings, needs, or suffering of others; lack of
remorse after hurting or mistreating another.
b. Intimacy: Incapacity for mutually intimate relationships, as exploitation is a
primary means of relating to others, including by deceit and coercion; use of
dominance or intimidation to control others. (? Jury is out)
B. Pathological personality traits in the following domains:
1. Antagonism, characterized by:
a. Manipulativeness: Frequent use of subterfuge to influence or control others; use
of seduction, charm, glibness, or ingratiation to achieve one’s ends. (partially)
b. Deceitfulness: Dishonesty and fraudulence; misrepresentation of self;
embellishment or fabrication when relating events. (sort of)
c. Callousness: Lack of concern for feelings or problems of others; lack of guilt or
remorse about the negative or harmful effects of one’s actions on others;
aggression; sadism. (check)
d. Hostility: Persistent or frequent angry feelings; anger or irritability in response
to minor slights and insults; mean, nasty, or vengeful behavior. (they aren’t hostile)
 17

2. Disinhibition, characterized by:

a. Irresponsibility: Disregard for – and failure to honor – financial and other
obligations or commitments; lack of respect for – and lack of follow through on –
agreements and promises. (nope, they fulfill their obligations and promises)
b. Impulsivity: Acting on the spur of the moment in response to immediate stimuli;
acting on a momentary basis without a plan or consideration of outcomes;
difficulty establishing and following plans. (not this either, they plan well)
c. Risk taking: Engagement in dangerous, risky, and potentially self-damaging
activities, unnecessarily and without regard for consequences; boredom
proneness and thoughtless initiation of activities to counter boredom; lack of
concern for ones limitations and denial of the reality of personal
danger. (partially, they take risks, not bored or thoughtless)
C. The impairments in personality functioning and the individual’s personality trait
expression are relatively stable across time and consistent across situations. (check)
D. The impairments in personality functioning and the individual’s personality trait
expression are not better understood as normative for the individual’s
developmental stage or socio-cultural environment. (have no idea what this means,
sounds like psychobabble)
E. The impairments in personality functioning and the individual’s personality trait
expression are not solely due to the direct physiological effects of a substance (e.g.,
a drug of abuse, medication) or a general medical condition (e.g., severe head
trauma). (they don’t do drugs or have medical issues.)
F. The individual is at least age 18 years. (not yet, perhaps they're sociopath
prodigies.)
In any case, they clear the bar, our dear hearts are officially anti-social. They don't
mind if you call them sociopaths, just don't fuck with them.

Seven

Katya, "We need a job. Something to make a cover, but not always have to be
there every day."
Katja, "Restaurant ees too much trouble. What about bakery, or just donut shop?
Open early, close maybe three or four. Hire bakers, maybe someone for counter. I
will go in, you can find something else to do."
"Nyet. I will work counter, you will learn baking from bakers."
They tour Houston's donut shops. Some are fair, some are crap, some do a good
job, primarily those run by Koreans and Cambodians. The quality is defined by the
ingredients, best flour, best cooking oil, the donut has to be light, fluffy inside, not
thick or greasy, not smothered in sugar like Krispy Kreme Krap.
 18

They spend three months scoping out locations, lease a space, hire Hispanic
bakers. Katya found a great spot, in between a primarily Latin neighborhood and
an upper middle class one, with the bonus of being two blocks from a K-12 school.
It's guaranteed success. Katya Donut opens without fanfare, not the twins’ style,
the place takes a couple of weeks to get traction, after that, they need more counter
help
Katja learns how to make donuts, apply the glazes. Best quality everything,
including fillings and chocolate. They also make filled croissants, ham and cheese,
the ones with jalapeno are popular. Katja wants to know the details of everything
and she has her own ideas. In her donut research, she came across the website for
Donut Plant in New York. Flavored icing, not just chocolate, vanilla or sugar, but
raspberry, pistachio, almond, cherry, orange, blueberry. Fillings of chocolate
hazelnut, crème brûlée, tres leches cake, triple chocolate, peanut butter. A hit, the
new varieties sell out by nine or ten.
Katja decided no specialty coffee. They sell Starbucks chilled items, along with
milk, sodas and the energy drinks kids suck down by the gallon. The coffee is
Lavazza, high quality Arabica, in attractive and sturdy insulated cups. The logo for
Katya Donut is on the cup and the bags and boxes. A pretty girl, head shot profile,
about to take bite.
Katya operates the register and fills orders along with one Hispanic girl and one
Caucasian student, both attractive, alongside quality, she knows what brings in
male customers.
Aside from the employees, customers mostly don't know about twins. Katja prefers
the kitchen and it's not open from the counter. They don’t dress alike, hair is under
hats, Katja decided black Fedoras look cool, so she and the others wear those.
The store is packed in the morning, they add a drive through and another
employee.
A year later, they have a second shop and a manager, the original Latino girl,
Maria. Aside from the bakers, the face of the shops are high school girls. They are
paid fifteen dollars an hour, there are no tip jars. The twins have a competitive
advantage, the shops are a cover to demonstrate a source of income, not intended
to make a big profit. Turns out they do, not huge, but more cash than Katya
expected. Katya does the accounting, hires a bookkeeper for payroll. Saves her the
grunt work, she handles the banking and knows exactly what things cost and what
her profit margin is. A lot of business is cash. Some of it makes the business bank
account, more than half makes their safe at home. They are part of the proud
American tradition of tax avoidance.
Health department comes around, Katja doesn't allow for out of date, or dirt. The
inspector says he's going to get in trouble because he's got nothing to report.
 19

Katja, "Tell them I bribe wiz donuts. Or boss person can get off ass and come see
for themselves. Too lazy to leaf office?"
Inspector, "That's actually a good idea. If they give me grief, I'll ask them to join
me next trip."
"Good, I will give donut bribe, only after they eenspect and find nothing."
He laughs, goes to the front and buys a peanut butter raspberry filled and a cup of
coffee, "See you next time ladies."
If the food inspector buys your stuff twice a week, it must be okay.
The girls did two jobs in last twelve months. One was driving distance, Victoria
Texas, a nothing spot with a couple of chemical and plastics companies and a small
port inland from the Gulf of Mexico. The target a fiftyish pharmacist. Why
someone paid twenty grand to have him dead, they don't know. They waited until
he closed shop for the night and popped him in his car. Two days later, Penny gave
Katya half of the second payment.
Penny, "I may have to raise the price. This contract asked how much, I said twenty,
he didn't bat an eye. At least he didn't hesitate, it was on the phone, I don’t see
clients."
Katya, "Good. Forty for out of town, forty for a name, person well known, like
local politician. No famous name at any price. Too much trouble. We will have
good business getting rid of bad business partner, bad husband, wife abuser."
They actually don't know the target is the bad guy, he or she could be the good one.
It doesn't matter, contract killers kill who they are paid to kill. Like soldiers, except
soldiers kill other people too, they call it collateral damage.
The second was in Dallas. For reasons unknown, someone wanted a fat man dead.
Katja asks later, "Why pay to keel, he ees dead soon anyway?"
"We do not want to know, make example maybe."
Katja came on him from behind, Katya around but invisible. He was in a park
looking down at something on an android phone when Katja placed the gun at the
base of his skull, he flopped face forward, flaccid fat rolled in waves. She relieved
him of cash, picked up the phone. A slide show of child porn. She laid the phone
next to him, cops won't look hard for the killer.
A five hour drive from Houston to Dallas, target acquired at seven thirty, drive
back to Houston. Satellite radio helped the time pass. They listened to news for a
bit, then electronica for most of the ride. If they had to listen to pop, rap or country,
one of them would have shot the radio.
Katya, "We will have a workshop. I need to make better silencer for gun. Revolver
is better, does not eject cartridge, but harder to silence. We will use revolver when
noise does not matter, silencer for automatic."
Katja listens, this is Katya's area, but her sister likes to run her thoughts past her
 20

twin. It's the same mind, sort of like self talk, with the benefit of a second brain to
spot contradictions or problems. In this case, there's nothing to spot. Katya is
telling her they need to go shopping for a bench, vise grips, lathe, welding
equipment, all the fun accessories to help them safely and effectively kill people.
Drug companies call it efficacy, the ability to produce a desired result.

Eight

Katya is busy with the influx of morning customers, including students that pack
the place on school days.
"Come on Toby, you haf same every day, triple chocolate, I have no time to waste
while you look at everything, here is donut, you will have Monster like always.
Three fifty, now get out of the way, bye, go to school, learn something, do not be
stupid boy."
Toby's friends laugh, "She's right, now move so I can order doofus. You just want
to look at Olivia and Ellen."
Olivia, smooth Hispanic coffee and cream, dark eyes, is in snug jeans and form
fitting t-shirt. Ellen a perky blond in short shorts for the influx of gawking high
school boys, cops, delivery guys and most of the male teachers from the school
down the street. They don't wear uniforms at Katya Donut. No paper hats or ball
caps, not even a standard polo shirt. Besides, Katya likes Ellen's shorts as much as
the men do. Not the shorts exactly, the excellent athletic legs they so pleasantly
reveal.
Our twins are not into men. They have a more, um...complicated orientation.
It's a slack time, just after lunch, ham and cheese croissants sold out, all the
specialty donuts with the exception of one lone pistachio cake.
Ellen is bent over, cleaning the interior of the display case, Katya is off to the side
admiring the view. Ellen looks over her shoulder, she smiles to herself, Katya's
eyes are right where she wants them.
She turns, leans against the case, "I like your...attention."
Katya, "You are beautiful girl, best legs ever, you exercise."
"Yeah, I get to the gym, try to keep toned and tight."
"You like girls for sex?"
Ellen giggles, the twins are the most direct people she knows, "I might."
"Maybe I will harass you."
Ellen laughs, "No need to harass, just tell me when."
"You will have two girls."
Ellen grins, "Lucky me."
 21

The weekend comes, Ellen is at the twins' place, Katja is making dinner, grilled
trout with lemon butter, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables in garlic sauce. The
twins drink vodka neat, Ellen has one on the rocks with cranberry.
Ellen, "I never saw girls drink vodka neat, I'm feeling all international."
Katya, "You are going to college after high school?"
"Maybe, have to be part time, got to pay for it myself, mom just makes enough to
pay the rent and groceries. I don't mind, working at the shop is fun, I have time to
hit the gym three times a week. Got to finish high school first. Besides, work, the
gym and school get me out of the house."
"House is problem?"
"My mother isn't a bad mother, she’s the worst. She has an unlimited capacity to
find lousy boyfriends. I have no clue who my father is. The boyfriend of the month
usually takes it in his head that I find him irresistible. Better to be gone."
"Mother kicks out boyfriend."
"Sometimes, if they're drunks or druggies. Mostly she gets tired of them. It isn't
because they hit on me. She would never admit it, but I think she sees me as a kind
of draw for the younger men she likes. If I had sex with them, she would ignore it
as long as they stuck around."
"But they don't stick around because you don't have sex with them."
"Everybody gets tired of everybody."
After dinner, they're on the couch, Ellen surrounded by the twins. Katya is stroking
one sleek thigh, Katja the other. Ellen leans in to kiss one, then the other.
"This is girl heaven, hot twins."
They move to the bedroom, the play intensifies. Clothing free, Katya is busy with
Ellen's lips, Katja with taut legs, slowly spreads, acquires the target, Ellen moans
seductively.
Tongued by two delicious duplicates, Ellen's near levitating. Squirms her way
through a quivery orgasm and settles back on the pillow with a long sigh.
"Unreal. Since I started working for you, I have a persistent fantasy about twins,
now I don't have to fantasize anymore. Except I'll probably have even more twin
fantasies now," she giggles to herself.
Ellen starts working her way down Katja's neck, chest, pit stop at small breasts,
resume trip to tummy then kneeling between her legs. Katya is behind her, kisses
down her back, then tongue teasing analstim. Ellen groans her pleasure at the
softness on her lips, tongue tingling her tush. Katja vibes a climax, Ellen goes off
with her.
A break for breath, then Ellen is doing a repeat on Katya, delivers another
shimmery orgasm, "Amazing."
Ellen's in the middle, alternating kisses.
 22

"I hope you harass me again soon, this isn't a one night deal is it?"
Katya, "You come over whenever. Just say. We will invite but you don't have to
wait for invitation."
"Cool. It's Saturday, what's up, say, Sunday a week?"
Katja, "Good, you don't work Sunday anyway, we close at one. Anytime after."
Ellen, "Okay then, it's a double date for me. Um, can I bring a toy?"
"If you wish, we have also toy here."
Ellen, "Well, yeah, but I was thinking of the kind you put on and fuck me with. I
want to be fucked by both of you."
Katja, "We haf fucking kind," she rolls to her side, opens the drawer in the night
table and pulls out a strap on.
Ellen, "We need two."
"We have already. But if you have something you like, bring it."
Ellen is doing the math, she starts to ask a question, hesitates.
Katya, "What?"
Ellen, "You must have lots of girlfriends, or some anyway."
"Not until now."
Ellen stares at the ceiling, processing, sly smile spreads, "Can I tell you about my
top twin fantasy?"
Katya, "Better reality," she crawls over Ellen, lays on top of Katja, they kiss.
Katya slides lower, Ellen is absorbed in the vision, self stimulating while she
watches. When Katja climaxes, Ellen ultra-maxes.
"Oh God, that is the most erotic thing I've ever seen, much better than my fantasy,
I'm still vibrating. No fucking wonder you don't have girlfriends, already got the
best girlfriend."
"You can be also best girlfriend. We will fuck Sunday."
Ellen, "If that's not a damn reason to live, nothing is."

Nine

It's morning, early, time to go to the shop, Ellen is still asleep.

Katya leaves a note, ‘Hang around if you wish, there is food for breakfast, coffee
or tea.’
At the shop, it's five thirty, customers are milling around the door.
Katya unlocks, "Okay come in, we are ready to make business," she looks at the
cop that's there nearly every morning, "Hello Jake, you will have usual?"
Jake, "I need two dozen mixed today. They said if I didn't bring some to morning
roll call, they'd shoot me. Only regular donuts, maybe a half dozen cinnamon rolls.
Be a fight over the specialty stuff, we'd have to arrest ourselves."
 23

"Okay, glaze, chocolate, sugar, cinnamon rolls, six of each, regular coffee, big
one?"
"Great."
She gives him his coffee, he can fix it while she boxes the donuts.
She hands him the boxes, "Shoot straight, kill criminal, not kid."
"Got it."
Morning madness begins, next thing it's near noon and the wave of Latinos comes
in looking for jalapeno ham and cheese croissants, bags of chips and forty four
ounce sodas. Katya Donuts sells any size fountain soda for a buck and a quarter.
The twins don't care who kills themselves with sugar, it's a donut shop. They drink
cups of strong black tea all day, no sugar. Katja occasionally has a Coke Zero.
They don’t eat much of their own product, Katja has to taste for quality assurance,
she takes a pinch, splits some to check the inside.
Ellen calls, “Almost done?”
“Da, we are closing, you are at the house?”
“Yeah, I mean, you said it was okay. I also got cold cuts and stuff, I’ll make you
sandwiches.”
“We will be home in maybe twenty minutes.”
Ellen has Boar’s Head Chipotle chicken breast and top round pastrami, with
tomato and spicy mayo.
“Y’all want toast or I can make finger sandwiches, cut off the crust.”
Katja, “We will try finger kind.”
“Up in a sec, I have coleslaw from the store and crinkle cut salt and pepper chips.”
“Sandwich ees good, best cheeken, we like spicy.”
Ellen, “Boar’s Head is a primo brand. We could never afford it, but I treat myself
to a few slices once in a while. Decided to splurge for my girls.”
“Do you cook?”
“I love to cook, can’t do it much at home anymore. When my grandmother was
alive, she showed me.”
“We will give you money to buy food when you come over. If you like to cook,
cook here, sister and I will try anything, whatever you decide.”
Ellen, “Dang, cool. Um…is it okay to hang out? I don’t want to go home, but I can
kill time at as movie or whatever if I’m in the way.”
“Do not make ridiculous, beautiful girl ees never in the way. Take off clothes and
sisters will play wiz you.”
Ellen grins, this is turning out to be a dream gig.
Monday, Ellen comes in at one, "Good gravy, you're almost sold out. I smell
something different."
Katya, "Sister is adding brownies to menu, they are out in a minute."
 24

Ellen, "I gotta try one," she heads to the kitchen, two big trays of chocolate
brownies.
Katja adds fudge icing to some, others will be dusted with powdered sugar, still
others to be stacked with a layer of marshmallow crème in between. Brownies are
cut in three by three inch squares, except the marshmallow. Those are cut in bars,
three by two.  Ellen brings the pans out front and loads them in the display case.
Ellen, "How much?"
"Dollar fifty."
Ellen takes one, breaks it in half and hands half to Katya, "Let's do a taste test."
"Oh shit, this is too good, we are going to sell the crap out of these marshmallow
things."
There are a few afternoon coffee seekers, they spy the brownies, two take home a
half dozen. Then the kids get out of school and brownies disappear.
"Miss Katya, those were the best ever. You gonna have them all the time?"
"If you buy, we will have. Take two home to family, no charge, see if they also
like," she gives them the evil eye, points her finger, "and give to mom and dad, not
for you."
"Yes ma'am."
They close up, Ellen says, "Katja, those were splendid. I have to limit myself to
one a week or I will be a chunk chick."
"No haf sexy time wiz fat girl, go to gym."
Ellen giggles, "I'm incentivized."
"I am testing cookie recipe, chocolate, chocolate cheep, maybe peanut butter
cheep. And recipe for chocolate cookie wiz no flour, gluten free."
"How do you do that?"
"Ees aig white, powder sugar, cocoa, good, you will see."
"Well, if you can't have wheat, add sugar, that's what gluten free is all about."
Peggy calls, "I have a contract."
"Da, okay, I will come by later."
"We have business with Penny."
"Go, I am test cookie recipe and haf to anyway clean,"  she won't be satisfied until
everything is spotless.
"Olivia, I have errand, be in tomorrow."
Olivia, "Have it covered."
Katya drives to Penny’s place, "The subject is in San Antonio, here's a recent
photo, name and address. He owns an electronics repair business in an industrial
park, Wilson Instrument. I don't know what they repair."
"Instruments."
"That narrows it down."
 25

"Any time limit?"

"No, just dead. But we don't get the other half until he is."
"I will go tomorrow, be done then or next day."
Katya goes home, Katja already there.
"San Antonio tomorrow, check out target. Do not know anything about him, habits,
just where he lives and works. Maybe two days."
Katja is clicking the keyboard, "Two hundred miles, all eenterstate. Seemple."
Katya, "What's for dinner?"
"I peek up roast cheeken, make macaroni and chiz, beet salad wiz onion, vinegar
and oil."
Katya pours a vodka shot, one for her sister. They don't down the shot, they sip it,
they drink Russian Standard of course. Sometimes Katja takes hers on ice with a
dash of blood orange bitters. Tonight she skips ice, but puts a drop of bitters in the
shot glass. They're sixteen, but that isn't what the driver's license or birth certificate
says. They read twenty two.
Katya sits at the table, Katja brings her plate, then one for herself. They are content
in their lives, Katja is a minute older, but that's ridiculous, they were conceived at
the same time. She likes taking care of her sister, the one who took far more abuse
from their mother. It's Katja's only way to be empathetic, and it only goes as far as
Katya. It wouldn't pay to think of either as fragile though. Both are steel spike
tough.
Katya calls Maria, "We have business tomorrow, probably Friday, you will handle
opening, call Olivia and Ellen."
Maria, "Sure, going out of town?"
"No, just looking at property, but the other side of Houston, not near the shops.'
"Okay then, talk to you later."
That done, they pack a few things, including the Glock Katya silenced and one of
the revolvers.
Wilson Instruments is on the east side of San Antonio, in a modern industrial park
with various small businesses, medical supplies, uniform company, graphics,
commercial printing. The business is in a standalone building, half dozen parking
spaces out front, employee parking in back. From the number of cars, looks like
there are no more than a dozen employees. There are no trucks that look like they
pick up or deliver anything.
Katya is thumbing her android, "They repair electric measuring instruments and
sell reconditioned ones. Ammeter, galvanometer, electrometer, voltmeter, also test
accuracy of devices."
The target drives a sliver Mercedes, parked to the left of the rear lot. It's ten now,
have to see if he goes to lunch. Katja pulls out a thermos of black tea, they settle
 26

into the rented Ford sedan to wait.

Wilson appears at eleven thirty, climbs in the Mercedes and drives. The twins are
behind him a half block. There's no point to stealth, he has no reason to think he's
being followed.
Most people are curious to know why someone wants someone dead. Most people
aren't contract killers. They don't want to know why. It risks bringing in a
judgment, 'is that all he did?' Or the target has a family, cute little daughter and a
dog. Better to stay aloof from reasons and personalities.
The twins are paid money to kill people they don't know, someone somebody else
doesn't like or who benefits from the death. It's no different than the military.
Soldiers are paid to kill people they don't know, somebodys some government
doesn't like or that benefits from the death.
But, unlike the average contract killer, Katja is vaguely curious, does the target
know that someone wants him dead? If they do, why aren't they doing something
about it. If they don't, are they clueless, too trusting, feel invulnerable?
The Mercedes pulls into a restaurant lot, a sports bar and grill called Friendly's.
Who knows, maybe they are.
Katja, "No good here, crowded," the parking lot is filling quickly.
"Probably why he goes to lunch early, popular place. We have to wait, maybe
when he goes back to work."
"I will see, wait down the street."
Katja goes in the door, Katya pulls down a half block and parks. In her mind she
sees what her sister sees, a big swath of tables and a long bar. A dozen flat screens
playing a variety of sports. The clientele is overwhelmingly male, except the wait
staff, which is overwhelmingly college girl. Katya figures what works at the donut
shop works for Friendly's.
The target is at the bar with a beer, the bartender puts down a plate of fried
something, appetizer size. Katja orders a club sandwich and coleslaw to go.
She waits at a sitting area near the entrance, the target is working on a burger now,
chats with the bartenders. It's obvious he's a regular. The food comes, Katja goes
back to the car, splits the sandwich with her sister, they wait for Wilson.
At quarter to one, he appears, they follow him back to his company. Katya gets out
on the street, out of sight of the lot, walks towards Wilson's car, the silenced Glock
is in the leather bag hanging from her left shoulder. All she has to do is reach over
with her right and the gun is in her hand. She's a few feet behind him, hand on the
gun, as she starts to take it out, a door opens.
"Hey, Wilson, gotta call for you."
Katya turns and walks back to the car.
Katja, "Lucky him, for a while anyway."
 27

More wait. Katya spends the time fishing around the net, "We need tracking device
to put on cars. Not have to sit outside and wait around all the time."
She shows Katja what she's found, "Spark Nano, can also buy magnetic case that
will stick to car," she clicks around and orders, "internet has everything an assassin
needs."
"Probably need more than one."
"Da, but I want to see how it works first, we can get more later."
At five, employees start leaving, cars pull off until there's only one in the lot, the
silver Mercedes. Nothing happens until six fifteen.
Wilson comes out and heads to his car, he's on a mobile phone, "Yeah baby, the
bitch is out of town. I'll pick up a good wine and steaks, be over in an hour. Got the
hot tub ready?"
He laughs at something, clicks off, a soft pop. Before he can feel anything, he can't
feel anything. Wilson won’t be making his date. Katya takes his cash, a few
hundred, puts his wallet and Baume Mercier wristwatch in the bag with the gun.
Goes to their car, Katja drives off.
"Just drive home, traffic will be light in Houston by the time we get there. Stop
someplace so we can pick up a burger, I need to dump the wallet and watch."
Between bites of burger, Katja says, "Maybe wife wanted dead, he ees going to
meet up with girlfriend."
Katya, "Sounded like it. Does not matter, it could go another way, he calls Penny
and puts contract on wife."
"Da. Maybe we tell him wife wants dead, he pays us to kill wife. Then we haf first
payment from wife, then full payment from him."
"Nyet, he maybe doesn't believe, runs away or goes to cops. He also knows us. Too
complicated, we get the money, we kill the target."
"I am curious eef target can figure out why someone ees want him dead. He must
not think so, or he would do something. But when we tell him, does he know right
away, or ees it meestery to him?"
"Maybe next time we will ask."
They pull in their driveway at quarter to eleven.
Katja, "You going to keep gun?"
"Da, is good one, silencer works. When I thought it over, it seemed dumb to throw
away. Most people are shot by somebody they know. Cops find gun, match up
ballistic. We don't know targets, we use soft nose hollow point, bullet is mostly
destroyed. I read they can sometimes get match from fragment, but first they need
gun. Nobody is looking for us, nobody knows we have guns. We have three
Glocks, plus revolvers. Use different one each time. Not likely that cops will match
bullet to another person shot someplace else. And if they do, where is gun?"
 28

They shower, have a couple of vodkas, tired from a long day of driving and sitting
around. Time to curl up together and sleep.

Ten

Sleep in a little this morning, they get to the shop at eight, business is brisk.
Maria, "You find any property?"
Katya, "Nothing interesting. Right now, better to rent. Old lady is happy to get
checks. But maybe in a few months I will offer to buy. Then if we want to make a
change it is not a problem. Katja would like bigger kitchen, dress up bathrooms."
The bustle of business precludes any more chat, they're busy until nine thirty
before it slackens.
Maria, "You good with me going to the other store now?"
"Sure, Katja may be over later. I know you keep it all in order, but she has to see
for herself."
"I don't mind. It's better to have an owner who cares. You have a brand to protect.
Right now a couple of shops, but maybe you expand later."
"We talk about it, we have to get good manager, most important. It is small
business, but still need to have boss in store."
Maria, "Olivia is conscientious. Ellen is good too, but she's thinking college and
might be better for her instead of a full time job."
"You think Olivia will want to run shop?"
"She has a Latino work ethic, and a promotion would be welcome. She's not Ellen,
there's no college in her future. She has a hardworking boyfriend, they want to get
married and have a family. Both sets of parents live here. If she has kids, she
doesn't need to quit work, child care is built in."
"I will talk to her."
Maria, "Good, she deserves her chance. See you soon."
After the lunch rush, things settle down around two, Katya asks Olivia, "Maria
says you might like to manage a shop."
Olivia smiles, "It would be great. Julio is finishing his degree, business major. We
want to get married, but I don't want to sit at home. Maybe children, probably. But
if I have a good job, we can make sure they have all the advantages."
Katya, "I will find a good location, build another shop. You can manage? It is extra
work."
"Great Katya, gracias, muchas gracias. Julio will be so happy, can I tell my
parents?"
"Understand we have to find a spot, build it out. It is not to happen tomorrow. A
few month maybe."
 29

Olivia, "Sure, of course."

Katja, "Two Russian girls make donuts in Texas, only in America. Now I haf
cookie recipe perfect. This afternoon, brownie, chocolate cheep cookie and no
flour chocolate."
The kids come pouring in after school, brownies disappear. On the way out they
get a bag with a half dozen cookies with a stern warning from Katya to take them
home to share and report back the opinions.
Ellen, "Doing a test market?"
Katya, "Da, Katja makes with the best ingredients, Ghirardelli chocolate. We will
see."
Ellen, "Saturday tomorrow, we still on for Sunday?"
"Sure, we will have good time."
"I'm certain of it," Ellen grins, sly and seductive.
"Time to clean cases, flirt later."
Ellen giggles, Katya is enjoying her curvy legs, Ellen is enjoying her enjoyment.
They close up, twins drive home. They have an SUV, they like the room and
occasionally have to haul things to the stores. Katya bought a used Honda CR-V
with twelve thousand miles on it. More than serviceable for their needs.
Katja, "We will search for a new location?"
"Yes. Not too close, but not all the way across town. Maybe closer to where Olivia
lives. We want the same, a school nearby, maybe retired people, middle class with
Hispanic also. Olivia must hire also Caucasian girl, we can have our bakers train
new bakers. They know people looking for job."
It's going to be a busy stretch, opening a new place, the twins hardly mind. This
versus finding a different empty house every couple of nights, just having a home
is heaven. And now there's a relaxing Sunday with exquisite Ellen.
She arrives at three, Katja pours champagne and serves Beluga blinis, thin crepes
with fresh sour cream and Beluga caviar.
Ellen, "Oh God, this is divine."
Katya, "Russian favorite."
Katja makes a pizza, square, margherita style, fresh sliced tomato instead of sauce,
mozzarella feta and romano cheeses, mushroom and pepperoni. Parmesan to
sprinkle on top. Chianti accompanies.
Ellen, "Geez, this is so good Katja."
"Spasibo, thank you."
"Spasibo, my first Russian word. I should learn Russian, we can talk and no one
would know what we talk about."
"Do you want to learn?"
Ellen, "Sure. They have Russian online, if I take a course, will you help me?"
 30

They don't answer, only stare, Katya cocks her head.

Ellen blinks, then catches on, "Will you please help me, I would be so grateful,
please."
Katya, "Da, we will teach Russian, you must learn other things also."
Ellen bites her lower lip, "I will, I'll do anything you want....anything."
Katja says to Katya, "Ona mozhet byt' slugoy (she can be servant.)”
Katya, "Seksual'naya sluga (sexy servant).
Ellen, "What?'
Katya, "You will see."
They finish the pizza, empty bottle of wine, "Ellen, there ees white wine een
refrigerator, you will serve."
Fresh glasses of crispy Pinot Grigio, Katja spreads a big comforter on the floor,
there are a half dozen throw pillows. They sit in a circle and sip. Ellen leans back
on her hands, the twins take in supple smooth skin, light brown hair falls to her
shoulders, blond highlights shimmer. Like the twins, she's Brazilian bare.
Ellen, "You have decided to open another store?"
Katja, "Da, Olivia would like to run shop, we will find a place."
"I don't think I want to run a store, I love the benefits of working at one though,"
she smiles, stretches long legs, cocks one leg to the side and teases herself with a
finger. Bites her lip, the sisters are watching her finger slow slide.
The twins do their part, lean in as the buzz-phrase goes, Katja takes one, Katya the
other, kiss their way along the tops of her feet, to shins, knees and thighs. Katya
stops to focus on the Brazilian with her tongue, Katja continues to breasts then
neck then lips.
The twins alternate until Ellen rockets to a shivery cli-Max. She rests on her
elbows, back arched, a few aftershocks.
"Christ, death by orgasm. Feels good isn't even close."
They have her surrounded, one twin leg covers each of Ellen's thighs. They roll to
straddle her legs, then get themselves off on her.
Ellen has a crooked grin, "I've never been a sex toy before."
Katja, "You will be sexy toy for sisters."
"I'm good with that," lingering kisses for them both, "and anything else you want."
Katya, "You are off on Monday and Thursday, you have classes, maybe go to gym,
what else?"
"Try to stay away from mom's boyfriend of the month."
"You will come here, clean house for us."
Ellen, "Yeah, okay, I'll do that...like both days?"
"Da, yes, a few things one day, the rest the next. We will give you money, not for
free."
 31

Ellen, "Thanks, hell, I’d do it for nothing just to get out of the house."
"We will have other things, you must be good girl, obey instruction."
Ellen's eyes sparkle, how did they figure her out? She never said she was
submissive, never acted that way at work. Until now, it was her secret self. She
alternates between turned on and embarrassed. She teased Katya at work, then the
sex. She realizes it isn't embarrassment, she has a taste for submissive humiliation.

Eleven

Three months shoot by, a contract in Galveston. Tool pusher for an oil company
that liked the shortcut of prostitutes. Which is fine by the twins, but apparently
somebody took issue with his taste for beating them senseless after he got his rocks
off. Katja poses as a prostitute, Tool snaps up the hot girl from his favorite street
corner and drives her to a sleeze-shit motel.
Katja, “Show me the money.”
“I got it.”
“Good, show it to me, then we go in.”
Tool pulls out a wallet, shows her the hundreds. She’s supposed to be a
streetwalker, twenty five for a blow job, fifty to fuck.
“Good, we will have fun big man.”
Tool, “Oh yeah, we gonna have a lotta fun.”
Just as they go in the room, Katja turns and sticks a knee where no man wants a
knee stuck, he chokes and bends over gasping, Katya appears, kicks him from
behind and he sails right to the bed.
He turns over, mouth open, eyes with the dull glaze of cheap whiskey, holding his
aching crotch, blinks, “Uhhh…two?”
Katya neuters him with the first shot, then eases his pain permanently with the
second. They relieve him of eight hundred dollars, no point in taking his Timex.
Check his truck, cool, a Colt automatic and a couple boxes of forty five caliber
dum dums, another name for hollow points..
Katja decides Galveston is the trashiest place she'd seen in Texas. She hasn't been
to Beaumont or Texarkana.
They drive back to Houston that same night, it isn’t but fifty miles up I-45. In bed
by midnight.
The new third store is up and running. Olivia's extended family makes sure
everyone knows. It's only a couple miles from her parent's, a densely packed
Latino neighborhood loaded with families and kids. Katja's Tres Leches donuts are
a hit, and she adds Conchas to the offerings, the Mexican sweet bread baked with 
crusty sugar on top. Katja dresses them up, now they have strawberry, lemon,
 32

raspberry and cherry-vanilla sugar. Not just colored sugar, flavored sugar. Goes
over so well, she adds them to the other shops.
Katya, "Never guessed there is so much money in flour and sugar."
"We make best product, hire cute girl, keep beezness seemple, even better mostly
cash money. We have enough to buy house now, da?"
"Yes, I will make an offer to old woman tomorrow. She will see two hundred
thousand in a pile instead of fifteen hundred a month. She can give it to the casino
faster. You will have the kitchen you want, fancy bathroom."
"Ellen ees a good girl, takes care of house, does what we want. Maybe we ask her
if she wants to take second bedroom."
“Good."
Ellen is over one weekday evening, she serves vodka, appropriately deferential,
and lusciously nude.
Katya, "Ellen, sit here, we will talk."
Ellen sits on the couch, crosses her legs, the twins are in two chairs that face the
couch.
"You are doing well, quiet, work hard, obedient."
"Thank you."
"We want you to live here, have your own room. Other than your obligations to us,
you may come and go as you wish. Are you agreeable?"
Ellen's smile is sufficient reply, but she says, "Oh geez, totally. You won't regret it,
getting out of that house is....oh God, thank you."
Katja, "We haf first to remodel, maybe six weeks, two months. We will feex up
your room and bathroom as well. Everything will be update, modern. This house is
good house, not in reech neighborhood, but ees quiet, nice trees and big yard, we
are adding privacy wood fence to replace old one."
Ellen, "Wow, sounds great, what can I do?"
"You must put in time to help in store, I will be checking contractor. I will not be
there as much."
Ellen, “Nyet problyum," did I get it right?"
Katya, "Da."
Ellen grins..
 
Twelve

The house is finished, new bed for Ellen, baths are tricked out with Jacuzzi tubs
and rainfall showers, dual shower heads in the twins' bath. The kitchen has been
enlarged by adding on to the rear. Viking appliances, a commercial vent over the
stove. Carpet is a dirt magnet, they ripped it out and replaced it with oak blocks.
 33

In the twins' bedroom is a large walk in closet, the back panel is a mirror.
The mirror is on a concealed metal door that opens with Katya or Katja's
thumbprint only.
**Education alert--identical twins don’t have identical fingerprints**
Inside is the stash of guns and ammunition, Katya's collection of fake IDs, and
forty thousand dollars in cash. The compartment is fireproof. Of course, if the
house burns down the thumbprint entry is useless, which is why there's a key entry
on the underside of the safe.
Despite the closet's size, they aren't clothes freaks, a few dresses, primarily good
quality slacks and blouses, heels, wedge, pump and puppy, no stiletto. They wear
jeans and sneakers at the shop.
Katya made a concession to uniforms, sort of, she designed fuchsia silk collared
polo shirts with the Katya Donut logo on the front. The girls love them. She
thought it strange, but customers want them, she keeps a small inventory and sells
the shirts for a couple bucks over cost. It’s free advertising after all.
Ellen, "My room is slick, cool bath, king bed. Um, we never talked it out, how
much do I pay?"
Katya, "You will work for it. House is your responsibility to clean, change and
wash sheets, towels, our clothes. Everything must be neat and orderly. You will
also grocery shop, cook dinner. Only donut shop if you need to cover for someone.
We will pay also salary, the same you would make at shop."
Ellen, "Full time housekeeper and cook, really? Cool."
Katja, "Your car ees too small and old. Sell it, we will transfer title of Honda to
you. We are buying another."
Ellen is shocked silent, her eyes misty. She went from high school student living
small at home, dodging her mom's nasty boyfriends, to gorgeous twins that
understand both her personality and intimate desires.
"If I'm gonna be the house slave, you need to be more domineering, I feel like a
flipping princess."
Katja, "Princess slave girl. Maybe new Deesney movie. You are good girl, you will
serve, do what we say. Ees enough. We don't haf all day to think up ways to make
you humiliate. We like you to be servant, but we do not want to be mean. For now,
you cook, clean, run errand. Een house you can be dressed or not as you wish."
Katja runs her hand down Ellen's back, slides it across her tush, then over the hip
and between her legs, her finger teases. Ellen's eyes close, mouth opens, sucks in a
breath.
"Also, you are not for hitting, no wheep or paddle. You can work hard at gym,
keep body beautiful for us. We do not make injury."
"Okay, I promise you’re gonna be real proud of me.”
 34

"We are understanding. Enough talk, you haf work to do, do it."
Ellen goes off to her tasks, first to list her car for sale, then to clean the twins' bath.
She smiles to herself, happy and occupied. Katya and Katja leave, there is an
appointment with Penny. Ellen knows nothing of Penny or contract killers. Her
role is to do as she's told, not to ask questions about her twins movements. She's
submissive, not stupid. And it would be stupid let curiosity mess up her dream
deal.
They take the scooters, Katja waits at a coffee shop while Katya sees Penny. She's
gone a half hour, joins her sister in the shop.
"We have a good job in Waco. Businessman, don't know what business. Fifty
thousand. He has muscle boy who follows him around. We may have to kill also."
Katja, "So what? Bodyguard ees ridiculous, only for rock star or movie girl to push
around paparazzi or stupid fan. Somebody wants to shoot, they shoot, bodyguard
ees not going to stop. Why local beezness person haf anyway bodyguard?"
"Penny said the bodyguard is cover, he is really pretty boy play toy."
They ride home, Ellen is out. It's pushing cocktail hour, the door opens and Ellen
comes in with grocery bags.
"Hi, I got roasted chicken for dinner, baked or mashed potatoes, your preference.
Also spinach, if Katja will show me that recipe of hers please."
"Ees easy. Put away grocery, ees time for cocktail."
Ellen goes to undress, she wasn't wearing much in the first place, miniskirt,
platforms and a t-shirt. She loses that and slips on her knee socks, pads to the
kitchen. She pours two double shots of vodka in chilled glasses, drops a dash of
orange bitters in one. Glasses on a tray, she takes it to the twins.
"This one is for Katya, the other has Katja's bitters," Katya takes her drink.
Katja takes hers, slides her free hand along the inside of Ellen's long thigh, "You
may haf also cocktail, I will be along in a minute to show you about spinach. Start
potato, baked, like you see me do it."
That means microwave, then to the oven to crisp. They like the crunchy skins,
potatoes with butter, sour cream and chives, sprinkle of caviar across the top.
"Got it dear one," turns and back to the kitchen.
Katya, "She has excellent bottom, excellent everything. We have perfect play toy,
better than TV man with his big dick muscle boy."
"Da. She ees happy with her part. I never thought of servant girl, America ees
about princess, not slave."
Katja raises her glass, "Devushkam!” (to girls!)
Katya raises hers, "V strannykh amerikanskikh devochek!” (to weird American
girls)
They toss back the drinks, they can sip the next one.
 35

Katja shows Ellen the creamed spinach recipe. It's from the Food Channel chef,
Emeril LaGasse. Basically standard creamed spinach with nutmeg added, delish
and ridiculously simple.
Ellen serves the girls at the dining table, she eats at the kitchen counter. The twins
don't require it, it's just what Ellen does. She refreshes wine.
"Anything else, more spinach, chicken?"
"Nyet, it was good. You may clear dishes."
Katya goes off to check cash flow and balance sheets. Eidetic memory allows her
to easily grasp accounting methods and financial statements. She goes over
numbers for all three stores every day. If there's a fifty cent discrepancy, she
follows up the next morning..
Their remodeled house is open plan, that is, an island with a double sink and extra
counter space separates the kitchen from the dining/living area. Ellen's rinsing
dishes and stacking plates in the dishwasher. Katja is behind her, hands on hips,
soft kisses to Ellen's neck, tease a nipple, Ellen shivers and grins. Katja crosses to
the living area and plunks on the sofa, clicks on the TV, channel surfs until she
comes on a rerun of Clear and Present Danger.
Ellen comes up, Katja takes her hand and pulls her onto the couch. Katya joins
them. Ellen is stretched out, her head in Katja's lap. Katya down the couch with
Ellen's legs across her lap.
Ellen, "I get the primo spot."
"Servant does not haf to serve all the time."

Thirteen

The twins are gone by the time Ellen rises. She has a message about her car, texts
back that they can see it anytime today. Text reply five minutes later. Katya has
already fished around on Edmund's and Carfax for prices, Ellen can get maybe
three thousand, more likely twenty five hundred. Two more texts, two more
appointments.
She got offers from all three, highest was twenty nine hundred. They take the car to
a title company, do the paperwork, Ellen has the cash in her pocket. Katja picks her
up and takes her to the bank, deposit the cash, drive home.
Ellen, "That was quick. One day."
"Katya said the price was fair, not top dollar maybe but better than trade in. Katya
and I will be gone tomorrow, maybe Thursday also."
"Okay, anything you need me to do?"
"Nyet, only be available if one of the shops needs help."
"Okay, anything I can do for you? Like now?"
They go to Ellen's room, she undresses Katja, they kiss, free form hand roaming,
 36

then on the bed.

Ellen gives Katja a long stretch of intimate attention, with the intended result, then
pulls a strap-on from the night table, "Fuck me, please."
Katja is happy to oblige, does her with slow gentle strokes. Passionate kisses
interspersed with low moans of pleasure, a somewhat louder moan of pleasure, and
a shuddering screech."
Katja unstraps, the toy falls to the floor, "not finish," she eases between Ellen's
lovely legs and lowers her head.
Afterwards, they lay together in post coital no mind, drifting along contented and
warm. Ellen's head is on Katja's shoulder, her fingers trail up and down the lean
body.
"Both of you are hard as bricks, I never see you work out."
"Genetics. We haf always been muscle. We did gymnastic when we are little. Now
we haf extra time because you are here."
"Gymnastics? Gee, that explains it. Did you compete? Guess you were kinda
young."
"Nyet, just class. Now we do at home only, keep in shape, flexibility."
"Now it makes more sense," she thumps Katja's tummy with a flick of her
forefinger, "hard."
She leans in and kisses the smooth fat-free tummy, works her way down. Katja
decides, gasping, that Ellen is a remarkable servant indeed.
Katya comes home, "Enough sex for you Ellen, make us drinks and appetizer."
"Anything else I can do for you."
"Sister will take care of, go now and make drink."
When Ellen appears with the vodka, she's treated to the sight of Katja kneeling
between Katya's tight legs, stimulation first, relaxation follows. She hands Katya
her glass, eyes roam Ellen's body, Katja's tongue roams Katya's softness, Ellen
tosses back the vodka meant for Katja and uses a long finger to self stimulate while
Katya takes in the show. A few minutes later, Katya and Ellen simulgasm, Katja
rolls to her side.
Ellen sits on the side of the bed, "I need to refuckinboot, Jaysus," she takes a deep
breath, "what an afternoon, then this. Working for you two is all benefit, no work."
Katya, "Another cocktail before dinner."
Ellen stands, collects the glasses and strolls off to the kitchen, butt rolls
seductively, the twins don't miss the wiggly exit.
Katya, "Such a sexy girl, hard to think of her as slave to humiliate."
Katja, "She likes it, ees for her, not us. If one day she does not anymore like it, we
can quit."
Some people want to be told what to do. Actually, most people want to be told
 37

what to do, that's why there's Walmart and cubicles and uniforms. Some people
want to be ordered, still others like a touch of abasement, humiliation, like Ellen.
A few even want to be slapped and whipped. Who knows why? They just do.
For Ellen, being nude while the twins are not is a blend of exhibitionism and
submission, when she’s nude and they aren’t, she feels powerless, it keeps her
tingly.
Katya and Katja sit at the table, Ellen brings vodka, Katya says, "I am hungry,
finish preparing dinner."
Tonight dinner has to be simple, selling the car then sex play doesn't allow for
elaborate. She puts together a pizza with red and yellow peppers, mushrooms,
pepperoni and anchovy sprinkled with four cheeses on top of a thin layer of olive
oil.
Katja, "Tomorrow we will go out of town early. Oh, and we haf credit card for
you. You can use for grocery, gas in car, pick up dry cleaning."
Ellen, "Thanks, simpler than askin' for money all the time."
"You have class tomorrow."
"Two, nine and ten thirty. Then the gym, then home. If you have to stay overnight,
be my first time alone."
Katya, "Doors have good locks and deadbolt. Windows are double pane. Anyway,
neighborhood is quiet, but our house is more secluded. Keep outside lights on at
night, curtains closed. Don't invite problems."
Ellen, "I’ll be careful."
"You know how to use gun, pistol?"
"A little, one of mom's more decent boyfriends took us to a shooting range one
time. I've fired a pistol, hit a piece of paper. I don't know anything else."
"Do you want gun?"
Ellen, "I don't know. Not until I've had a chance to use one more than once. Learn
what to do besides point and pull the trigger."
"Okay. Tomorrow, buy mace, pepper spray, something. Not great but better than
nothing when you are alone. One for home, one to carry. No good in drawer next
to bed if you are in parking lot across town. We will see about gun later."
It occurs to Ellen to ask if they have guns now, but it also occurs to her that if they
wanted her to know, they would say so.
She does say, "Is it dangerous, to be alone in the house at night?"
Katya, "Probably not, better to be prepared than scared. You are beautiful young
girl, men get stupid ideas, then you are raped or worse. Let men be stupid, we will
not be stupid. Do you know what to do if man grabs you?"
Ellen, "Scream, run away?"
"Yes, but if he grabs tight, you need to have a mental picture of what to do. First,
 38

man is bigger, stronger, but everybody has a weak spot. Groin, kick hard, or grab
and squeeze hard. Not halfway kick, kick. Also knee, kick hard with heel to knee
or even shin, good chance to run away. Most important, throat and eyes. You
punch throat hard, he is not anymore going to attack. If he is close, right on you,
thumbs in eyes, hard, all the way in. He is finished."
Ellen, "Geez, that's gruesome."
"Alternative is for you to be raped, beat up or killed. You take eyes, you live, he
never attacks anyone again. Look, you imagine attack, imagine what you will do,
over and over, all the kick, balls, knee, punch throat, fingers in eyes. If it happens,
you won't have to think, only react. You don't get hurt, he is no more any
problem."
Ellen, "I got it, brutal but necessary."
"Da, understand, if man gets you in car, you are dead girl. Only hope is to grab
wheel and wreck car, don't sit like baby or cry and beg for mercy, he will not have
mercy."
Ellen, "I'm glad you're tellin' me this, not glad to have to think of it, but better to
practice now than be a shit kicked victim later."
"Da, make man victim."

Fourteen

Our girls are driving into Waco, which in the nineties was Wacko. Katya's telling
her sister what she learned on Wiki about the Branch Davidian standoff and
subsequent fire. They were waiting on an imminent Armageddon, which they got
courtesy of the bungling ATF agents. There was, however, no Second Coming,
only Davidians Going. That proud moment led to the Oklahoma City McVeigh
bombing two years to the day later.
In 2013, a fertilizer plant blew up in Waco (fertilizer and fuel oil were used in the
Oklahoma City bombing, no apparent connection.) That destroyed the plant, a
school, an apartment complex and damaged a nursing home. Fifteen people dead,
near two hundred injured. The plant had numerous safety violations in the past,
stores of ammonium nitrate far beyond what they were permitted for, nothing was
done about it. Not much regulation in Texas, interferes with the ability to blow up
people.
Katja's driving, "Ees stupid city or what?"
Katya, "Texas doesn't like rules to interfere with corporate profits, a few dead
people, so what, they can be replaced."
“Maybe Texas will give us prize for killing people.”
Katya rents a van in one of her fake names, they drive to a mall lot and leave the
 39

Honda.
The GPS leads them to Wallace Watkins offices. They're in a corporate park,
Watkins and Co. Several satellite dishes, big ones, it's a TV station. A local TV
exec doesn't need a bodyguard, Penny nailed it, he's gay.
"That's his car, I will attach tracker."
Katya hops out, they know what kind of car he drives, high end Mercedes,
confirmed by the sign planted at the curb that says 'Wallace Watkins CEO.' It's in a
stretch of reserved covered parking, but nobody else has an assigned space.
Katja, "Ees only eleven. What to do?"
"Coffee shop down the street. I'll go in and get something, we don't want to be seen
together."
They never dress identically at home, but they do now in case they need to confuse
the bodyguard or Watkins. Same sunglasses, fedora. Nondescript loose jeans, black
sneakers, t-shirts, black suit jackets to hide the guns.
They sip coffee, parked on the street out of sight of the building. If Watkins' car
moves, they'll see it on the GPS.
At quarter to twelve, it does. They figure he's going to lunch, it will be hard to
snatch him, they follow in case an opportunity pops up.
They pass several restaurants, down a stretch of nothing, turn into a small park
near a small manmade lake. The Mercedes stops under a sizable oak tree. The
bodyguard is driving, windows are dark tint, but his blond cropped hair is outlined
against the window.
Katja, "What ees stop to look at lake?"
Katya, "Muscle boy looks at the lake, Watkins looks at dick."
It's true, they can just catch the movement inside. The blond head shifts, back
against the window, an arm draped over the seatback.
Katya, "Let's get this done."
The park is stone still, not even a stray duck. She shoots the window with the
silenced Glock, it shatters, she whacks the blond hard on the side of his skull.
Watkins’ head snaps up, the bodyguard's fading erection in his hand. Katya clicks
the door lock, Katja yanks Watkins out by his shirt collar and sticks the revolver in
his neck.
"Don't talk, come along, or die here."
Watkins is shaking, muscle boy isn't doing jack, he's dreaming of suckus
interruptus. Katja kicks the passenger door shut, nothing to do about the busted
window. Sooner or later the guard will come to, or someone will get curious about
the car.
Watkins and Katya are in the back of the van, Katja drives outside of town, finds
an abandoned building on a dirt road, appears to have been a gas station before a
 40

thruway made it obsolete. The only thing visible is a stretch of empty asphalt and
dust. She pulls the van around back just in case.
Katya has Watkins tied and taped.
They have the rear door open, it's fall, warm, not hot. The view is dirt, scrub, hills
off in the distance.
Katya rips off the tape, Watkins winces, "What in hell's this about? Kidnapping?
Good fuckin' luck little lady. Nobody's gonna pay jack to get me back. This ain't
fuckin' Bogota."
Katya, "Looks pretty Hispanic to me, but I am from Russia, so who knows?
Anyway, we are not kidnapping."
"Well, what then? Nobody I know has the balls to have me killed."
"Somebody does."
He blinks, thinks, "Say, wait, you telling me you're here to kill me?"
"Da, um, yes, we will kill you soon."
"Hold on missy, no offense, but who wants me dead so bad they hire a couple of
kids to do it?"
"You will have to tell us. We don't know who, we only know who they want dead.
Person pays money, we kill."
"How do you collect money from someone you don't know? They just mail it to
you?"
"Not to us, to our agent. We do not talk to person, agent does, only on phone. They
send money, half up front, we kill, they send other half."
Watkins, "You mean it's like the movies? For real?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes killer works for gang, sometimes independent. We use
agent, arm's length I think you call it."
"Who? You don’t know, then how much, what am I worth?"
"Fifty thousand."
"I don't know if I'm flattered or insulted."
"We kill for forty, sometimes even twenty, no less. You are good price, we
appreciate."
Watkins, "I don't fucking appreciate. Is this a joke, some bullshit my poker buddies
thought up. Those assholes would do something like this."
"Kill you?"
"No, a practical joke, make me think someone's out to kill me."
Katya, "Bodyguard doesn't think joke is funny. He has big headache."
"Yeah, oh, yeah, then what?"
"We talk in circle. We don't know. We are curious to know. What did you do for
someone to want you dead? Maybe what do you have that someone can get if you
are dead."
 41

"I swear, I have no idea. How can you just kill people you don't know for money.
How do you know the person who hired you isn't ten times worse than me?"
"We are like soldier, he kills people he doesn't know for money."
"A soldier? That's different. They fight to protect our way of life, out of duty and
honor."
"Then they should be soldier for free. Why take money?"
"They gotta live."
"Army gives them a place to live, food, clothes, medical treatment, dentist. They
still get salary. We don't even get salary, we are paid by the job. Nobody dies, we
don't collect paycheck like solider. Nobody pays medical, give us a place to sleep,
uniform to wear, boots, fly us to job. We even buy the gun and ammunition.
Soldier has it easy."
She skips the part about stealing the guns and ammunition, and the part where
somebody is shooting back in a war, "Enough philosophy, who wants you dead?"
""Why does it matter to you? I die, you get paid."
"We kill people before. Then we say, 'Why this man? What did he do, or didn't do,
or who makes money when he is dead?’ It is either revenge or money. So, for you,
what is it?"
"Not revenge, nobody to be even jealous. I'm a tough businessman, but revenge
murder for a few layoffs seems like, well, overkill. I'm divorced, my ex doesn't
care enough to kill me and she doesn't profit from it anyway. Tate, my, um,
bodyguard doesn't have a jealous boyfriend. He's not even gay. I pay him, he lets
me...you know."
"We don't care about gay, or if you pay prostitute boy. Then somebody makes
money when you die, who?"
"Fuck, unbelievable. The station has a two million dollar policy on me, call it key
man insurance. I own a third of the station, and I'm the anchor, the voice and face.
They said if anything happened, they would be out a lot of money trying to replace
me."
"And you believed them? Replace somebody to read monitor with already written
news story?"
Watkins stares, his shoulders sink, strangely, he laughs, "What a sap. Egotistical
bastard. I fell for it. They dropped the lure, I fucking bit. They waited three years
and they don't wanna wait any more."
It's quiet for a time, Watkins asks, "Now what? It's pretty obvious. My partners
collect two million for a fifty thousand investment. And they're gonna stick the
bimbo blond they've been fucking in the anchor chair for less than I draw now."
Katya unties him, lets him stretch, "Probably need to pee, take a break."
He's so relieved to be loose, he smiles, slides off the truck bed and walks to the
 42

side of the dilapidated station. Katja pops him with her Ruger thirty eight in the
base of his neck, then again in the back about heart level. He slumps against a
rusted out restroom sign.
They drag him inside and shut the door, collect their Honda, return the van. Katja
drives them back to Houston.
Katya, "Learn anything?"
"Da, no to haf life insurance."

Fifteen

Ellen, "Y'all have a good trip?"

"Da, okay. No interesting business, we talk over key person insurance."
"What's that?"
"Eef business owner ees dead, from sick or anything, company gets money to
make up for important person not around anymore. We haf donut shops, no
business partner, doesn't matter."
Ellen, "Oh, I don't know squat about insurance. They make us buy car insurance,
so I got some, that's it."
"You haf to get medical insurance. We bought Obama president insurance. You
must buy now."
Ellen, "Can you help me, I have no idea what I'm doing."
Katya, "Probably get what we have. Young girl, healthy, not expensive.”
Katja, "What ees dinner? Make cocktail first."
Ellen delivers two vodkas, a bowl of nuts and sliced cheese.
"Tonight, I got fried chicken, it's good, cheaper and simpler than fryin' it myself.
Baked beans with bacon in the oven, and coleslaw. I made it with purple cabbage,
shredded carrots and that tahini dressing you like. Chicken in the oven to keep
warm, I’ll crisp it up when we’re ready to eat."
Katya, "Go and have a drink, I have to talk to sister, we will eat later, and bring
another vodka."
The twins wait until Ellen delivers the drinks, then she's across the room in the
kitchen, they still talk mentally.
"What do you think?"
"We will take her to shooting range a few more times. She was okay with gun, not
afraid. We did not talk of shooting people."
Katya, "Mmaybe she says something. If not, maybe ask if she ever thought what to
do if she has to shoot a person, like that. Just make hypothetical. If she is weak,
drop it."
"Da, okay."
 43

Why would the twins care? It's dicey to bring in someone else, and they have no
current need of help. It's Katya's nature to think a few steps, even many steps,
ahead. They may never need her. But if they do, she wants to know beforehand if
the girl can deliver. Together, the amount of conscience the twins possess is less
than a Dick Cheney zombie. They don't need a reason other than money to kill, it
pays, they do it. With Ellen, they don't know where she is on the conscience scale.
She's nice, enthusiastic, reasonably intelligent, submissive. But submissive is
partly a prelude to sex play. None of it means she can murder for money.
They relax on the couch, no TV, no music, the twins don't require external
entertainment. Katya's brain is always ruminating on something. Katja doesn't
ruminate on anything, her brain fires up when she has a project, otherwise she's
content to blank, only snow on her mental screen. Ellen is happily diddling around
in the kitchen, a sip of wine, stir the beans, take out the coleslaw and give it a toss.
She fires up the broiler for a few minutes. When the chicken is nicely crisped, she
transfers the pieces to a platter and sets it on the table with the baked beans and
coleslaw. Plates, place settings and napkins, wine glasses and a bottle of just tart
Cabernet.
Katya, "Set a place for yourself, no need to stand at counter."
As they fill plates, Ellen asks, "May I go to the gun range again? I kind of like
shooting. I think I could get real good at it."
Katya, "Tomorrow, is it a class day?"
"Only in the morning."
"We will go to the shop early, Katja will meet you at the range, maybe two thirty."
Ellen, "Perfect, I can squeeze in the gym first. I thank y'all everyday for the Honda,
so much better than my old Corolla."
"Mother quit complaining?"
She laughs, her mother bitched when Ellen moved, "Her fuckhead boyfriend
checked out a week after I did. Asshole thought he's gettin' me'n her. Even told me
that was the deal. You believe that? She got him by throwing me in the pussy pile.
She's fuckin' delusional, I never went for it before, she kept hopin' even after I told
her I was a lesbian. She thinks I made it up to dodge her boys. The good news is
she's moving to Oklahoma. Gotta 'nother job, car dealer or something. I'm so
frickin' happy she's going. I woulda shot that asshole boyfriend if I had to stay
there."
Katya, "You think you could shoot someone?"
"If they were grabbing my ass and pushing me into the sack, I sure could."
"What about for money? Would you shoot someone, someone you didn't know, for
money?"
Ellen swallows the bite of chicken, "I'd shoot my own mother for enough money,
 44

sheeyit, maybe for nothin'. How much we talkin' 'bout?"

Katya, "Curiosity only, not shoot anyone tonight. Sex tonight."
Ellen, "Hell, after I get these dishes cleaned up, you tell me what'cha want and how
long you want it."
Katya mentals Katja, "Do not mistake talk for action. Go to range, then we will go
someplace and practice with harder target than paper. Teach her to clean gun,
take apart and put together, we will see."
By the time Ellen is finished with the kitchen, Katja is well along to her first
orgasm courtesy of Katya.
Ellen is bedside, "You two are dehydrating me and I'm just standin' here."
"Don't stand, get in bed and lick."
Ellen giggles, she loves doing what she's told, particularly when she's told to jump
the twins.
Half hour later, toys in a tangle of sheets, Katya is screwing Ellen, Ellen is
deliciously delirious. She shivers orgasm three.
"I'm a dead girl, everything feels so good I gotta be in heaven

Sixteen

Twins are at the shop for five, Katja examines the bakers' work, "Good, always
good job. We are to open another place, bigger, more table. You haf friend who
need work, learn to make donut?"
Manolo, "Always Miss Katja. I have cousin and nephew who want to come to US,
they are skilled bakers, have a small panderia. But no money in Mexico, and many
criminal. If you sponsor, they will come."
Katja, "Da, okay, ees for you to make arrangement, then we fill out immigration
form."
After the opening rush and the school kid rush, things settle down.
Katja, "I can get eemigrant baker for new store."
Katya, "Maybe next shop we will buy building."
"We will haf three three business, donut, property, killing."
Katya, "In America, they call it diversification. One business is slow, the others
carry us."
Katja wanders back to the kitchen, talking to herself as she tends to do, 'We will be
diversify, reech American girl from Russia.'
Katya has the Vespa, she's at a real estate office exploring commercial
opportunities. They have three shops, the fourth will be the fourth corner of the
square, shops five to eight miles apart. The agent goes to work on proposals, Katya
goes to the bank.
"We want to borrow money to buy a building for another shop. We will put two
 45

hundred fifty thousand, you will lend the rest."

Banker, "What is the rest?"
"Not sure, maybe seven, eight hundred thousand, for building. It will have other
tenant paying us rent."
"Cash flow for the shops is good, if you put up twenty five percent and the
appraisal comes in right, that should be no problem at all. "
Katya, "We will know soon
Banker, "Frankly, until you opened accounts with us, I had no idea the pastry
business was so good."
"We have superior product."
"I should give them a try, you're a good customer and about to be a better one. One
of your locations is only a couple miles out of my way to work. In fact, we have a
monthly meeting tomorrow before opening. I'll supply Katya Donuts and the whole
branch will give them a try."
She stands, "The agent will send you details of property."
He stands, "Always a pleasure Miss Kazakova, perhaps your donuts will liven up
our monthly meeting. They surely can't hurt. Banker meetings are mostly a
snooze."
Katya goes to the shop, Katja leaves for the shooting range, an indoor place, one of
many that dot gun happy Houston. Ellen is waiting. They line up next to each other
and plunk a few into paper squares.
Katja looks at Ellen's target, she's doing fine at twenty five yards, more than
adequate for a stationary human target. They haven't graduated to sniper shots.
Ellen, "I can hit anything at that distance, had enough for now?"
"Yes, you are going home now?"
"Have to stop at the grocery, home after."
"See you then."
Katya is there when Katja gets in, "She ees okay, hit target twenty five yards, can
hit at two feet. We are getting loans?"
"Yes. It will suck up half of our cash."
"We will kill someone and get more."
"Penny has to call first, but somebody always wants somebody dead."
Ellen arrives, "I'm gonna grill you the best steak you ever tasted. Got rib eyes
marinating. Bought a real good potato salad, be better when I fry up bacon crispy
and sprinkle it in. Mixed green salad, blue cheese to crumble on it. How's that
sound?"
"Good. We are going tomorrow to shoot moving target, hang can from tree," waves
her palm back and forth, "will make it swing."
Ellen, "Cool. Fun day ahead."
 46

After a bite of steak, Katja says, "You are good cook Ellen. Mother teaches you or
only grandmother?"
"Naw, my mom can't boil water. My granny taught me, she's dead now six years.
She was raised in Mississippi, lived in New Orleans for a while, then to Houston.
When I was old enough to stand up, she showed me how to cook, breakfast first,
then all the southern dinner recipes. In her day, the big meal was lunch, 'cept they
called it dinner. At night they call it supper. Y'all want me to start cookin'
southern?"
"What ees southern?"
"Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, brown gravy, not the red stuff. Pot roast,
nice hunk of chuck, slow cooked with potatoes and carrots. Beans and rice, all
kinds of beans, navy pea, red, black, cooked all day with ham and sausage. Green
beans slow cooked with bacon and onion. Pork chops, macaroni and cheese,
creamed spinach like we already make. Vegetable soup, pork loin simmered all
day in a crock pot, add any vegetable you like. Seafood gumbo, fried okra, skillet
cornbread, I can make apple pie, cherry pie, banana pudding and the best yella
cake you ever tasted. So good and sweet, you gonna think you got me in your
mouth."
"You will show me."
Ellen grins, "Sure."

Seventeen

The three are down a dirt road out in the vast nothing between Houston and Dallas.
It's a stretch of dense woodland, pine trees mostly. They took a long walk in a
circle. No buildings in sight, no trails, just trees. They string a line of four cans
from a branch about two feet apart. Katja gets them swinging, steps to the side.
Katya plunks the first, misses the second, hits the third and forth.
Ellen steps up, Katja sets them in motion again, she hits two, misses two, "Dang,
not as simple as I'd hoped."
Katya, "Ees why practice."
Katja gets three and nicks the forth. They go back and forth like this, replace a
couple of shredded cans. Go through a hundred fifty rounds between the Glock and
Ruger.
Katya, "Let's go, good enough for now."
On the way back, Katya says, "Ellen, find a place where we can practice on
moving target. Better even, find us property with no one around, maybe with old
house or farm with a barn. We will build shooting range with moving targets."
"I'm on it, that's gonna be fun. Got to be a bunch of places, might have to drive out
 47

of town a ways."
"Even better. Make sure is isolated, no nosy people, nobody to hear gunshot."
"I'm your girl. How much you wanna spend?"
"Don't know. Does not need to be nice, just so things work, water, electric, we are
not moving in, maybe stay overnight sometimes. You search, quiet, look for listing
online. No rush, better to find good isolated place."
The agent calls, she has a place that looks just right for the new shop. Meets
Katya's requirements, schools nearby, middle class residential, no retirement
community close, can't have everything. Two other tenants, dry cleaners and a
martial arts school. Good for parking, the martial arts school is closed most of the
day, active at night, opposite of Katya Donut. And they can build a drive through
on one side. There is room for a half dozen tables and a counter to run along two
walls. The bank comes up with their end, gut the space and start the build out.
Katya is there every day, Katja makes the round of the other stores, Ellen has a lot
of fill in time with Katya out, dinners at home shift to cold cuts or prepared food.
Finally, ready to open. Three tired girls are happy that life can be more normal.
Penny had one job, an easy one on the other side of Houston. Katja drove over on
her Vespa, followed the doctor from the hospital parking lot to his apartment.
Gated place, she went in behind him. He never made it out of his BMW. She took
his wallet, drove off, lifted six hundred in cash and tossed the wallet in a street
drain. Whole job took an hour and a half, most of that getting to and from. Houston
is a big place.
Ellen, "The shop is beautiful Katya, best one yet. And packed already, you are
becoming a brand, girl."
"America is land of opportunity. We sell sugar bread, people do not get enough."
"Honey, you sell the best quality donuts on the planet. People love them. You guys
are making happiness."
Katja, "Flourless cookie sells out in an hour."
Ellen, "Make more."
"Nyet. Better to sell out. People always buy something else, and we get rid of other
eenveentory, not throw money in dumpster."
"Ah, I get it, sly Russian doll."
"Da, eef shop makes money, everybody has job, we get reech. Throw money een
dumpster, no jobs, poor."
"I think I may be onto a place for the gun range. We've been so busy, I didn't do
much looking until last week. It's fifty miles out of town though. But it has a small
house and a barn. House is okay, could use some work, it ain't new. The barn is a
barn. Wood's not rotted, roof needs replacing. Best part is, there ain't jack for
miles. Place been on the market for two years. Old lady died, kids all grown and
 48

live out of state. We can get it for a song."

"How much?"
"The listing said two fifty, but nobody gonna pay that. Well water, a septic system,
no sewer lines run out there, barely got electricity."
"What ees septic?"
"A tank the toilets and drains run into. Solid waste settles from the water, a
company comes out and sucks it out every so often. It works fine, just needs the
sewer service to empty it. If we don't use it much, it could be a year or more
between service."
"Da, okay, two days, we will go see."
It's fifty miles, but part of it is on a rural road, it isn't just off the interstate, drive is
close to an hour and a half.
The house isn’t in bad shape, a standard brick nothing. Good that it's brick, wood
would be a mess by now. Needs a roof, so does the barn. But they can do cursory
fix up. They need running water, electricity and functional bathrooms. That's about
it, they aren’t moving in.
It's wide and deep, near fifty acres, three quarters of a mile side to side. Nothing
around that but scrub and woods. Land around the house and barn is buffelgrass,
which grows to three or four feet and covers much of the property.
Ellen, "Grass too high, but it keeps the dirt from washin' away."
"We will have cut away from house and barn, drive is gravel, we can add gravel
around the house and behind to the range, good enough."
Katya, "Offer a hundred fifty, they will say it is ridiculous, we will buy for under
two. Best for us, it is completely isolated."
Ellen, "Going to the bank?"
"Da."
The purchase sails through, appraisal came back at two twenty, mostly for the land.
They bought for one ninety.
Ellen, "Geez, another house."
"Just only for shooting. Cheap furniture, enough for us to sleep for a night or two. I
have ideas for targets, and we will set up for rifle also. Learn to use scope, set
sights, hit target at distance, wind, rain, whatever."
"Gonna take a lotta practice."
It takes another month to get the roofs replaced, Katya had asphalt laid between the
house and barn, the grass cut and a bit of basic furniture, refrigerator, washer dryer.
Hot water heater needed replacing. Ellen cleaned the place top to bottom and put
roll down blinds over the windows. The carpet was shot, had to be ripped up. They
painted the concrete floor and new baseboard to seal off the space between the
sheetrock and the floor. No curtains, no pictures on the walls, no frills.
 49

Katya built flip up targets, when they walk the circuit, things pop up here and
there. And they are on wheels, surprises aren't in the same spot all the time. The
barn has a dozen small targets that either pop up, or tick tock like a metronome.
Finally, they have dirt mounds at fifty and a hundred yards with targets on posts.
Those are stationary, the object is to learn the rifles and their capability, adjust for
weather conditions.
Ellen pulls down her ear protection, "This is a blast. But, when are you gonna tell
me what it's for? Really. You two ain't hardly the type to do this for fun. No money
in target practice. And you go off on trips for business, but never come back with a
piece of property, or anything at all. I know you ain't goin' to investment seminars.
If it ain't my place to ask, just say so."
Katya, "What do you think we are doing, when we are on business?"
Ellen, "All this gun trainin'? I expect you're puttin' it too work. Takin' people out,
for money."
"If we were, what then?"
"Well, like I said, it ain't my place, but you asked, so, can I make some money
too?"
"You think you can shoot somebody, don't know why, just kill?"
"How much does it pay?"
"Maybe ten thousand, sometimes more."
"Fuck, how many people you want dead?"

Eighteen

Ellen's first hit isn't local, they fly to Los Angeles, then drive up the coast to a
patch of suburbia called Moorpark. The target is male, forty five, they have a photo
and a location. He's a former middle school teacher and recently registered sex
offender. Apparently some kid's dad doesn't think a year in jail and registration was
enough penalty. It's good first outing for Ellen, one more easily justified than some
citizen with no obvious reason to have his life taken away.
They wait outside until nine p.m. Ellen walks up, knocks, target opens the door.
She raises the silenced Glock, puts a round hole in his forehead, turns and walks
down the block to the car.
"Hell, that was simple."
"You made sure it was target?"
"Oh yeah, balding, same glasses, pussy moustache, just like in the picture. It was
him."
"You are okay?"
"S'all good, better than good, I frikin' like it."
 50

To celebrate, Katja booked a suite at Shutters on the Beach in Santa Monica. They
check in late, but they're staying for another night and can enjoy Venice Beach all
day tomorrow.
Ellen, "Sheeyt, this is a swank place, a suite. Stocked with booze, can I get you a
drink? Dumb question."
They have vodka shots, then a bottle of sparkling wine and kill that on the balcony.
To further reward Ellen's success, the twins take turns pleasuring her while she
contemplates the moon over the Pacific.
"Let's get to sleep, you can sleep with us if you wish,"
"Oh yeah I wish."
Three assassins in a row, it's Ellen's celebration, so the twins surround her and
snuggle in. She falls away with a happy idiot grin.
They sleep in until nine. Coffee in the room, then dress and out to Ocean Front
Walk. Venice Beach is its usual busy.
Ellen, "This is such a cool spot. Everybody is so laid back, roller blades, bikes,
skateboards. The vibe here is...easy."
"We haf never been. I look up when we got job, better than most of Los Angeles,
Hollywood, Beverly Hill. More relax."
"I'll say, hey, look let's feed, James Beach seems popular."
They work their way through calamari, shrimp cocktails, followed by chicken and
fish tacos, washed down by Chimay Belgian Ale and a Moscow Mule, Tito's vodka
and ginger beer.
Ellen is giggly, "This is great stuff. You guys ever think about moving, let's move
here."
"Maybe good idea, but shops are in Houston. We will come here again, longer next
time, a vacation. We will go to San Francisco also. It is time to see more America.
Miami, New York, maybe even New Orleans and see if the food is so good as you
make for us."
Ellen, "Man, I never thought I'd get outta Texas, now I'm in California and headin’
for the rest of the country," she tears up, wipes her eye with the napkin, "no way
thanks is enough."
Katja, "Do not make seentimental. We will take care of you, you will take care of
sisters. Now, we will walk along beach."
They wear out the sidewalk, the ocean, vendors, every sort of person on the planet.
Eventually they wind up on the Santa Monica Promenade. Sort of a hip outdoor
mall, full of brand name shops, boutiques, restaurants and bars. It’s seven, they
stop in at The Misfit and have drinks until eight.
Ellen, "We have one more night in that fancy suite, maybe we should finish up
there."
 51

They return to Shutters, shower, wash hair, wrap up in the fluffy robes provided.
Room service delivers a Coast cheeseburger, lobster roll and shaved roast beef
sandwich. Katja cuts everything in chunks and they share. Ellen has both Katya
and Katja for dessert, they collapse at eleven and don't stir until seven thirty.
"Ellen, what time ees flight?"
"Two twenty, lose two hours, back home for seven."
"Da, okay. Maybe we eat downstairs, goof off, leave for airport at eleven, haf to
return car."
Ellen, "I'm good with hanging here, I love this place."
Coffee, leisurely breakfast in The Living Room, pack up and fly. A few days later
the second payment comes in. Travel expenses come out of the twenty five
thousand, this time Ellen gets the rest.
Ellen, "I don't know why I should get the whole deal, everybody went."
Katya, "First time. In future, we will split money. If we all go, one third each after
expense. If two go, half and half, like that."
"That feels right, thanks for this though. Most money I've seen in a pile."
Katya, "Do not put in bank all at once, they report more than ten thousand. You
can put five or six thousand, wait a couple of weeks, put more."
Ellen, "Glad you told me."
"And if you take out cash, keep it under ten thousand. Also, never buy ammunition
with card, always cash. Best to leave gun to us."
"Where do you get them?"
"We steal from house. People haf gun everywhere, good ones too."
"Wait, you break in somebody's house? Isn't that dangerous?"
"Nyet. We find house with people gone, pick lock and look around. About half
have a gun or rifle, sometimes several. We take good ones, ammunition. They also
keep money stash, a few hundred, sometimes we get a thousand or more."
Ellen giggles, "Sheesh. Can I go on one?"
Katja, "You will learn to pick lock, spot alarm system. We can disarm eef we know
where box is. Or just clip phone line outside house. Sometimes a big house has cell
backup for alarm. Cut outside line doesn't work."
"What do you do?"
"Don't break into fancy houses, plenty of regular places with no alarm. If we cut
the line, we always wait. If nobody shows up in a half hour, we go in. One of us
watches street while the other searches house. So far, nobody ever comes around."
"You two are your own crime wave."
"Not much anymore. We have enough guns, make money from shops. Only for
practice, pick lock, quick check of house. We stay only ten minutes, always follow
 52

rule. No gun or money in ten minutes, leave. Never take anything else, no jewelry,
no gold or silver. Gun, ammunition, cash."

Nineteen

The next weeks are spent improving targets, small motors operate some, a board
appears, try and shoot it before it disappears, the best target for speed and accuracy
is the star, Katya copied a design she found on YouTube. The star is five pointed,
rods with plates on the end that flip when hit. That makes the star rotate. The
object is to hit the remaining four plates while they’re in motion. They practice
with rifles, Ruger mini-mags, both scoped, added twenty round clips. The rifles are
lightweight, durable and accurate.
Ellen turns out to have quite an eye for distance shots. And she can pop off six
rounds in under five seconds and put a two inch grouping at a hundred yards.
Katja, "You are good shot."
Ellen, "Heck, the scope makes the target look like it's arm's length. We'll see how I
do if the wind kicks up or it's rainin' jackhammers."
Katya, "Enough for today, we need to close up the house and go."
Back home around three, line the guns up on the bench. Cleaning guns is simple
enough and they are diligent about doing it right away. If they need a weapon on
short notice, they want it ready.
Ellen has dinner going, brings cocktails, back to the stove, "I got red beans, hot
pork sausage and ham, brown rice, cornbread."
Katja is looking over her shoulder into the crock pot, "Smells good. This is New
Orleans recipe?"
"Yeah, I can't never decide if I like these or the white beans better."
"What ees different?"
"Beans taste a little different. I use Blue Runner beans, theys already cooked nice
and mushy. Heat up perfect in the slow cooker. The sausage adds flavor and fat.
Red beans, I add garlic, but not to white beans. White gets a dab of cane sugar and
Worcestershire sauce. Chopped onion in both. Use the same kind of sausage and
ham pieces. Sometimes I use pork chops too. Just set it all in the cooker and let the
flavors mingle for six or seven hours. Pork chops get fork tender, you gotta shred
the pork though, slow cooker makes lean meat dry. Bacon adds fat and moisture.
Even better to let it sit in the fridge overnight and heat 'em up again the next day."
She spoons out the beans over a small mound of rice on each plate, adds a chunk of
buttered cornbread, they dig in.
Katya, "Ellen, this is good. Such a simple thing, beans and rice. It comes out like
gourmet."
 53

Ellen beams, "Always thought most gourmet was hype. Ain't nothing better than a
Katya Donut, or a steak off the grill, baked potato fulla sour cream and butter. I'm
gonna make you a roast beef po-boy this weekend. You gonna get a whole new
perspective on good. Next week, fried catfish, macaroni and cheese."
Katja, "We will do extra pushing up. Also, I am ordering treadmill. I am for
running, but not outside to dodge cars and haf men stare."
Ellen, "Treadmill, cool. My contribution will be a stationary bike and a rowing
machine. Good for legs, arms and back. You gotta a whole empty bedroom, stuff
will fit easy. Plug in the music and get after it. If we're going to put a gym in here, I
can quit the one I go to. Easier to do at home."
Katya, "Good idea to put machine in house. Katja and I do gymnastics, extra work
out will not hurt."
Katja and Katya are ultra-flex, when you start at age three or four, it's pretty simple
to be flexible. They aren't elite gymnasts, but they can do handstands, standing
flips, splits, back arch. Their gymnastics was primarily tumbling, not so much
balance beam, vaults or uneven bars. Still, they are strong, with excellent
proprioceptive awareness. Tossing their bodies in the air doesn't freak them out.
The girls have seconds. Ellen grins, she's discovered a way to make her serious as
death twins happy. They never smile, don't giggle or laugh. They have a sense of
humor, but it's drier than Texas sand, even macabre. She knows firsthand they
enjoy sex, but they aren't noisy about it, screeching is undignified They like vodka,
they like her to show off her stuff, and now she knows they appreciate simple
delicious food. And they don't lie to her, or feed her a line of shit. It may be what
she likes best of all.
Katja, "After dishes are clean up, we will have wine, you can watch something you
like on TV. Then you will give us sex and we will fuck you."
Ellen, "Now that's how to spend a goddamn evening."
And they do.
Ellen wakes up to an empty bed, the girls allowed her to sleep with them, but are
long gone to the shops. She smiles as she goes to the bathroom, two strap-ons lying
on the counter. She picks one up, tries to remember which one went where, nothing
comes to mind, it was dark.
Today she's housecleaning, then to the grocery to get a chunk of chuck roast for
tomorrow's slow cook. It's Friday, marinate the meat overnight, cook it Saturday,
serve on crusty toasted French bread Sunday. Maybe it would inspire the girls to
jump her again.
The twins took the Vespas to work, Katya to the big shop, Katja will cover the
other three and meet up with her sister later. One thing the girls understood from
their first day in business, nothing is as important as the owner paying attention. It
 54

isn't to catch workers slacking, Katya could read that on spreadsheets. It's to show
the staff the business is serious to them, not something just to suck a few bucks out
of. To show they are going to check for cleanliness and quality. They want to see
staff in action, how they are dressed, how they interact with customers. Yes, it's
only donut shops; doesn't matter, it matters. If the owner is lax, why should the
staff bust their butts? Human nature is like inertia, objects in motion tend to stay in
motion, objects at rest will collect rust and dust.
Katya is behind the counter with Maria, the only others in the shop are a couple of
retirees having coffee. It's ten thirty, morning rush over, the lunch crowd isn't in
yet. Katja has expanded the sandwich menu in the big store beyond ham and
cheese croissants. Now they have turkey, chicken, add jalapeno and cheese,
croissant or sliced bread. The reason the simple sandwiches are so popular is
quality and quantity. Unlike some places, Katja loads the offerings with layers of
meat and cheese, not a thin half slice of cheese and barely noticeable ounce of
meat. Overstuffed sandwich, bag of chips and a soft drink, five ninety five.
Katja arrives, comes in the back door to the kitchen. At the same moment, two
men, just barely, maybe nineteen, bang in the front. One of them is waving a gun.
"Gimme the cash, do it now, nobody gets hurt."
Maria's eyes are huge, she's trembling.
Katya opens the register, mentals Katja, "Assholes out here with gun."
Instead of handing the money over the counter, Katya walks around and holds it
out, second guy snatches it.
"What the fuck, two hundred dollars? Where's the rest?"
Katya, "Donut shop, not Bank of America. Bank is down the street."
Gun Guy, "Very fuckin' funny. You have a safe then. Open it up, or I can shoot the
bitch behind the counter."
He makes a junior varsity criminal mistake, two actually. He assumes Katya is
afraid, and he looks over at Maria. Katya has his gun hand, she cracks his elbow
over her knee, dislocating it, the gun clatters to the floor. Then her knee is deep in
his groin and her fist smashes his Adam's apple.
Second moves to the gun, stops, Katja has a rather massive chef's knife poked in
his throat, drop of blood seeps out.
"Be still asshole person. Move one millimeter, dead."
"Maria, call 911."
Retirees Bill and James have just begun to process the scene.
Bill, "Need any help Katja?"
"Nyet, finish coffee."
Squad car screeches up, it's Officer Torres, Frisco, short for Francisco, "Well, well,
Katya, Katja, looks like you've captured the notorious convenience store criminals.
 55

We been looking for these two for a while. Guess they changed their MO, goin' for
donut shops now."
James, "Picked the wrong goddamn one. These girls were all over it, guy with the
gun, Katya fucked him up right good."
Frisco has Second in cuffs, "So I see," he cuffs Gun Guy, ignores the dislocated
elbow and gravelly yelp of pain, his larynx doesn't work so good.
He manages a gritty whisper, "Fuck man, my elbow's broke," cough rattles from
his busted throat.
"Shut up."
A second car, two more cops.
"Katya, everybody okay?"
"Da."
Frisco, "Everybody but the one with the busted arm, Katya dislocated his elbow
and clocked his throat, neutered him too from the way he's bent over."
Bill, "Yeah, she gave him a knee to the nuts, hurt me just to watch."
Paramedics arrive, they load Gun Guy in the ambulance, the second squad car
takes the other for booking.
Frisco, "Let me get statements and I'll get on my way. Any chance of a donut and
cup of coffee? One of those glaze, with the chocolate on top."
He sits with Bill and James, writes down the story, Maria confirms. He doesn't ask
the twins anything.
"You girls better be careful, those two hadn't shot anyone so far, but the gun is
loaded. They could have."
James, "Punks better be careful, Katya didn't blink an eye. More like intimidated
him, just walked up with a handful of cash, then put his sorry ass down. Katja
came outta nowhere, stuck a knife in the other one's neck, calm as a sunny spring
day."
Frisco looks at the twins, then Maria. Her hands are nervous, fiddling with a dish
towel. The twins look bored. Most crime victims are fidgety, cry, or get mad, like
it was the cop's fault somehow.
Katja, "Okay Freesco, you will go now, want another donut? We haf lunch crowd
already coming."
The big cop laughs, "Yeah, how about a cake, the one with cherry icing?"
Maria hands him a box with a dozen mixed treats, "Take them to the troops," her
hand still shakes.
"It's okay now Maria, but it's also okay to be scared, need anything," he looks at
Katya, "maybe take the day off?"
Maria, "No, just kind of shocked, I never got robbed before, never had a gun
pointed at me. Better to work and get my mind off it."
 56

And a few minutes later, there's no time to think, just bag, ring up and wait on the
next customer.

Twenty

Ellen, "You what? Good God! And nobody got hurt? You didn't get hurt? You
coulda took a bullet."
Katja, "Sister knows what to do. If boy had kept distance, he would have gotten
money, but he ees stupid, let Katya get close. He haf no chance."
"But what about the other guy? I mean, she didn't see you come up behind him, she
was dealing with the first one."
"She doesn't think of other one, she ees know I think of other one."
"Like how? She reads minds?"
"We are tweens, think of same thing at same time always."
Ellen is incredulous, "Naw, you're pullin' my leg, you can't pull thoughts outta each
other's head."
The twins give her their trademark blank stare, with a simultaneous blink.
"Jesus, you're doin' it again, you blink at the same exact time. Hell, maybe you can
read minds, each other's anyway. Hey, you can't read mine, can you?"
"Nyet, you can haf privacy, we are not Facebook. Except only you tell us
everything anyway."
"Why do you have more of an accent than Katya?"
Katja tilts her adorable head, "So we can tell each other apart."
Ellen's turn to blink, "Aw sheeyt, I give up. I gotta get on the rowing machine, then
dinner to prep."
They burn a few hundred calories, deep breaths and sweat.
Ellen, "You're worse than the gym. Women there, most of 'em, ride the bikes like
they’s enjoying the park. S'pose it's better than nothing, but it ain't hardly a
workout."
Katja is collecting gulps of air, "You are good working out girl. We will go hard a
couple of times a week, gymnastic also, enough."
A second bottle of water, off to shower, then in the main room.
Ellen, "I didn't realize we'd gone at it so long. I still gotta whip up dinner."
Katya, "Call pizza place, make us a drink. We will have pizza, watch movie,
relax."
Ellen, "Get no argument from me, usual?"
"Da."
Pleasantly swizzled, first on vodka, followed by Chianti. Enjoy margherita pizza
with anchovies while they watch Chloe Moretz play a cool vampire in Let Me In.
 57

Ellen, "That was fun, I never paid much attention to her movies. The rest of 'em
any good?"
Katja, "No idea, we will find more for another time."
Tired, slightly sloshed, the twins go to their room, Ellen to hers. The submission
game, which never got very domineering, has shrunk. They're just too busy to
think up ways to boss around or humiliate. Our twins don't love, but Ellen has
earned their respect. She takes care of the house, feeds them, washes their clothes,
things are always neat and orderly. Amazing ballerina legs, and she can kill. The
perfect companion.
Penny calls, "Got a good one, hundred grand. Have to go to New York though."
"What ees target?"
"Investment banker, you know, Wall Street. Client didn't say why they wanted him
dead, not a rush job, just dead in the next couple of weeks. I have no idea and don't
want one. You get a chance, you can ask the target, maybe he knows."
"I will be over later, three?"
"Now that I'm an independent contractor, I'm on twenty four seven, like
Blackwater."
"What is Blackwater?"
"Sociopaths that kill for the government."
"Da, okay. Three."
That evening, Ellen has fried catfish, mac and cheese, as promised. Crispy,
crunchy coating, tender flaky fish, ketchup and horseradish, creamy four cheese
macaroni. She threw in a purple cabbage salad with Goddess dressing as a nod to
good health.
Katja's on her fourth piece of fish, drags it through the ketchup and horseradish and
crunches a bite, "You will make again, ees good."
Ellen, "Thought you might like it. Good news is, the fish is baked not fried, Panko
bread crumbs are the crunch. It took me a few tries to get the filets to come out as
good as fried, it's damn close."
Katya, "We have work. New York City."
Ellen, "Can I go, please, I'll pay my way, man I'd love to go to New York. I'll kill
the guy free."
"You will go. A simple job, good pay, one hundred, so fifty for us. No risk, just
take him out."
Ellen, "When do we go?"
"I have to ship a gun to a drop box in New York. Too much risk to pack in
luggage. We pick up the gun, kill target, throw away the gun. I am shipping
revolver, cheap, no big deal."
Ellen, "It's noisy."
 58

"New York is noisy. We will figure it out when we follow soon to be dead man."
JetBlue has them at JFK for four thirty, taxi to a suite at the Soho Grand. One
bedroom, one bed to Ellen's delight. Stocked wet bar, nice view, only nine hundred
a night.
Soho is south of Midtown, Chelsea and Flatiron, further south is Chinatown then
downtown and the financial district. The target lives near his job, has a condo on
FDR Drive. Katya's research showed it isn't a multimillion dollar showplace, more
like a million and a half. In this part of Manhattan, that gets you maybe twelve
hundred square feet in a stack of three hundred other condos.
Ellen, "What now?"
"See if the target is home. We cannot get the gun until tomorrow. Maybe we can
spot him, see where he goes."
They spread out around the several entrances. Doors require a key, like a hotel key
card to get in the entrance. This place isn't exclusive enough for doormen, they
have the key cards and cameras, called a virtual doorman. It's six thirty, so far no
target.
His name is Wilton Frederic, late thirties with a mid level banking job for one of
the second tier investment banks. It's no Goldman or Morgan Stanley and bankers
aren't earning seven figure salaries and ten million dollar bonuses. In a good year,
Wilton might drag in a million. He makes enough to enjoy the better, if not the
elite, side of the city, enough to attract a fair number of women. New York is a
playground for a SMGI, straight male good income. Hang out at any of a half
dozen after work meat racks, you may not find perfection but you'll find close
enough.
At seven thirty, he doesn't come home, he goes out.
Katya, "Was already home, okay, now we follow."
Wilton is on foot, doesn't appear to be wanting to flag a taxi. They split up, Ellen
crosses the street, Katya is closest, Katja behind her thirty yards. He opens the door
to a restaurant, Andaman Thai, is led to a table and sits.
Katya, "We will have dinner here."
They get a booth down a few from Wilton. He appears to be a regular, the waitress
chats like she knows him. She brings a glass of wine. Then she approaches the
girls, they order wine and appetizers, spring rolls and coconut shrimp, entree of
fish and garlic sauce, vegetables in cashew sauce.
Ellen, "What if he finishes before us?"
"Does not matter. We do not have gun, we got close up look. Tomorrow, we
follow him to work, lunch, after work. Something will happen and we will
complete contract. Enjoy dinner, ignore target for now."
 59

Ellen grins, a few tables down, there’s a guy who’s going to be dead in a day or so.
She knows it, he doesn’t. Maybe it’s not like being God, but it’s a buzz, almost
sensual.

Twenty One

They walk to Soho, less than two miles down Grand St. Katya has the street map
of Manhattan in her head.
Ellen, "That place was good, I never had Thai food before, only Chinese."
Katja, "Da. I like garlic sauce they use on feesh. We will find something at home,
Asian restaurant all over."
It's ten Manhattan time, only eight Houston time.
Ellen, "Seems early to go to bed."
Katya, "Maybe sex will help adjust time zone change."
"There you go, help adjust something anyway."
A few vodka shots and a couple of sex toys Ellen was prescient enough to bring,
they are happily unconscious by midnight.
Up early, follow Wilton to work. Now to search for a spot to terminate his banking
career.
Katya, "Wait here, I am going to pick up the package."
She walks three blocks down and a block over to a UPS store. She set up an
account in one of the fake names, shows her fake license and collects her packages.
They're in reused Amazon boxes, nobody is going to pay much attention to yet
another in a flood of Amazon packages. One is the Ruger, the second is a dozen
rounds of ammunition. It's a .38 caliber, more than lethal enough for a head shot,
lightweight and compact. Cheap enough, this one free, they stole it.
She returns to the others.
Katja, "Nothing, still inside. Gun ees okay?"
"Da. Ellen, you have phone ready?'
"All charged up. If we split up, I got the GPS for yours, you got mine."
"Do not use GPS, do not even turn on phone, it can be tracked if it is on. If
anything goes bad, smash it, make sure sim card is destroyed, go to hotel, wait.
You remember sim card?"
"Yes."
At twelve thirty, Frederic comes out of the building and walks to a food cart on the
corner. Katja is in line behind him.
"Souvlaki platter."
Thirty seconds later he walks off with a bag and a soda.
Katja decides it smells good, gets the skewered pork and vegetables wrapped in
 60

pita bread. Easier to eat standing on the street.

Katya, "Is good?"
Katja hands it to her, she takes a bite, goes to the line with Ellen, they return with
one each and two Diet Cokes.
Ellen, "From a truck on the street, who knew? Second day in New York and I have
two things I never ate before. Thai last night, what kind of food is this?"
"Greek."
"Well good for them, good for me. Two countries in two days, I’ma international
bitch."
Katja, "Target ees going to be in office all day?"
Katya, "No way to know. We wait," she looks up at the sky, "maybe rain later."
It's near spring, at least not hot or frozen, Katja looks down the street, "Guys near
corner haf umbrella for sale."
Katya, "Drugstore also," she nods to one of the ubiquitous Duane Reade stores that
seem to be on every other block.
Ellen, "Never heard of Duane Reed, sure have lots of ‘em."
"Walgreen bought Duane Reade a few years ago. They kept the name, a hundred
fifty stores in Manhattan."
Ellen, "Why do you know that?"
Katya, "Read someplace."
"Does Katja have a photographic memory too, is that what it's called?"
"Katja nyet, da, some people call it that. I don't try to remember everything, no
point. Sometimes there is random information in my head, like drugstore
numbers."
The afternoon passes, it's hardly boring. The streets are busy with people from
what seems like every nation on Earth. Houston is big, but not so compact, here it's
people in waves of perpetual motion. The sheer size of the buildings fascinates
Ellen. Every half hour two of them walk around the block while one stays to keep
an eye out for Frederic. The girls speak Russian to give Ellen a chance to improve
her fluency. A drizzle starts, they take shelter in a recessed doorway, Katja goes to
buy umbrellas.
When she returns, Frederic appears across the street, pops open his umbrella, looks
around. The odds of snagging a taxi at the close of business is miniscule, in the
rain less than zero. He resigns himself to a wet walk home.
Except he doesn't go home, on the way, he decides a drink is a better idea and slips
into a tavern.
Katya, "This is our chance."
They wait ten minutes, Katya goes in a small boutique, comes out with a black
fedora and a pair of lightly tinted sunglasses, puts them on Katja, then Katja goes
 61

in the bar. It's not a hook-up spot, it's a standard drinker's bar, a place to socialize
or anti-socialize depending on mood. Dark wood counter and bar stools line one
wall, small booths the other. A half dozen beers on tap, another dozen bottled
options, shelves packed with liquor bottles, mirror behind so it looks like twice as
many. The place isn’t half full, almost all men, a few with women, three women in
a booth laughing, enjoying the freedom of not getting hit on.
Katja sits two stools down from Wilton, bartender cards her. He stares at the
license, looks at what can't be more than a sixteen year old girl, looks back down at
the license. She slides the sunglasses down her nose for him to see her eyes.
Katja, "Happens all the time. I'm in the lucky gene pool, see, here's my credit
card."
"You want it on the card?"
"No, cash, just more proof that I'm legal," her accent has mysteriously disappeared,
she plops a twenty on the bar, "vodka, any top shelf, on the rocks with a dash of
bitters."
He sets down the drink, Wilton nods, Katja manages a glimmer of a smile; it's
nothing she practices, it feels stupid.
"You live in the city?"
Katja, "No, visiting. My friend has a date tonight, left me on my own. Started
raining so I went in the first door I came on."
He makes small talk, she says she's a student UC Davis, a school Katya fed her.
Nobody ever knows anyone who went to UC Davis.
"A California girl, you look the part."
She fakes another smile, this is getting tedious, she asks about his job, how did he
decide on banking as a career. He does a bit of bragging about the money. And he's
next in line to be partner, his income will skyrocket.
Katya, "Maybe guy behind him wants to be partner without the wait. Rain has
stopped."
Katja hops up to open the door, looks out, back to the stool, "Quit raining," she
chugs the rest of her drink, "nice to talk to you."
"Hey, how about dinner? I was just on my way to," he shrugs, laughs, "wasn't just
on my way anyplace but home, but I know all the places around here. How about
it? Just eat, bat the breeze, no hassle."
Katja, "What did you plan to eat at home?"
"I don't cook. Usually, I get a delivery, every place in New York delivers. Don't
even have to go get it."
"You have vodka at home?"
He grins, "Sure, Grey Goose, bitters too, and lots of good wine."
"Then we can have a drink and you can figure out what to order."
 62

Wilton decides the gods love the crap out of him. As they leave the bar, Katja
walks past Katya, feels the revolver slip in her coat pocket.
An hour later, at the hotel, Ellen asks, "I can't be in your head, how did it go?"
"Seemple. He makes drink, I toast, he is on computer ordering Italian something.
Before he ees finish, I have gun in pillow, he ees dead, no much noise, a pop only.
Computer screen ees bloody mess. He haf six hundred dollars, no gun. Three
thousand five hundred in sock in dresser. Didn't take time to look for more."
Ellen, "I'll be glad to get paid, but woulda been nice to see more city."
Katya, "We can hang around town another day, then we have to leave."
Ellen, "You think the bartender is gonna be a problem?"
Katya, "Katja was disguised, even if he remembers name on license, it doesn't
mean anything. Plus, cops have to put together man dead in apartment and bar five
long blocks away. He did not know anyone in the bar. Just go to wait out rain.
Camera at apartment entrance shows Wilton and girl in coat, glasses and hat."
Katja, "When I leave, I also open umbrella, all camera sees ees umbrella. Gun, hat,
glasses and umbrella all disappear in drains and dumpsters. And none on the way
to hotel. I went south from his place, got rid of everything, then west to Broadway
and here."
Ellen, "I gotta remember all this, make sure to be decently disguised, get rid of
evidence away from the scene and away from where I'm gonna wind up. Hide from
cameras, them things are every-damn-where. Makes a killer's life trickier than it
oughta be."
Katya, "There is no chance police will piece together Frederic with Katja. Frederic
and some girl, maybe, but for all they know, he and a woman happened to come in
building together. They can't even put her in the apartment. Sherlock couldn’t
make a case."
Ellen, "So, nobody's had dinner, what country can I visit next?"
They shower, dress up a bit, skirts, heels, silk blouses and long coats. A stroll
around Soho and they come on David Burke Kitchen. Place is full, but there's a
bar. Katja tells the hostess they'll take their chances on a table opening up, hands
her a fifty.
Cocktails ordered, three hot girls in snug skirts, heels and elegant silk blouses get
noticed, even in Soho. Ellen banters with the bartender.
"We're just rubes, it's my very first time in New York, I am lovin' it."
He wants to be cool, but silken light brown hair, dark sapphire blues and a dazzling
smile make cool hot, he grins, "Your friends having fun too?"
Ellen, "Yes, not sos you can tell less you know 'em like I do. They keep to
themselves, twins can be like that."
Katja and Katya aren't dressed identically, but their hairstyles are the same,
 63

straight, shoulder length, ash brunette. Same silver sprinkled grey-blue eyes, same
narrow upper lip and fuller lower one, same amazingly symmetrical face. Eyes just
far enough apart to match up with cheekbones tapering down to a square chin,
straight nose, exactly proportionate to the face. Silky satin skin.
Bartender, "They should be models, twins that beautiful would be rolling in the
bucks."
Ellen, "I'll mention it to them."
The hostess appears, "Table for three, ladies."
Took all of fifteen minutes, Katja figures they'd have been seated immediately for
a hundred.

Twenty Two

They spend the last day wandering further north, 5th Avenue is wall to curb
people, mostly Asian and European, street jammed with taxis, limos and bicycles.
Rockefeller Center is arm and elbow with people trying to squeeze family into a
photo nobody will look after one glance at a Facebook post.
Ellen, "Christ, they got enough stores here, one luxury brand after another, course
we got all that in Houston."
Window displays full of things that cost fifty bucks to make and ship, three
thousand to buy retail. The girls are having none of it, splurge on coffee and black
tea from a street cart. Walking up 5th, they take a left at 57th, pass 6th Avenue and
come to the Russian Tea Room. This is a splurge they can appreciate.
Ellen, "Cool, now I get Russian food."
Vodkas arrive, naturally they have Russian Standard, Katja raises her glass, “Za
zhén-shsheen,” (to women)
Ellen and Katya toast in kind, they knock back the shot.
The waiter smiles, "Otlichnyye tost damy.” (excellent toast ladies)
Katja, "Spasibo,” (thank you.)
Katya orders Beluga blini. Blini are yeast crepes, more like a thin pancake that
rises a bit. Beluga caviar and sour cream accompany. Streak of sour cream, then
add caviar, roll up and enjoy. Red borscht, beet soup with braised beef pirozhok,
beef wrapped in a pastry shell.
Ellen, "Dang, this is good. Another vodka maybe."
In Russia, it is considered civilized to toast every drink, this time, "Za schast’-ye.”
(to happiness, Ellen’s toast, the twins don’t grasp happiness)
Entrees are Boeuf à la Stroganoff, red wine braised beef short ribs with thick
noodles tossed in mushroom and black truffle cream sauce. And Kulebiaka, salmon
with slow cooked onions, mushrooms and vegetables wrapped in pastry, served
 64

with roasted baby beets.

They share tastes, Ellen gushes, "I gotta make Stroganoff at home, that is just too
damn perfect."
Katja, "Da, salmon cooked with so many vegetable ees also good, Stroganoff best."
She starts nattering away with the waiter in Russian, the chef comes from the
kitchen with a plate of Pelmeni, a Russian ravioli with seasoned ground pork
wrapped in a shell of unleavened dough.
Chef, "My treat, and perhaps another vodka, da?"
He joins them with his own toast, "k krasote.” (to beauty)
They finish a third shot.
Chef, "My food, you enjoy?"
Katja, "Vy khudozhnik.” (you are an artist.)
Chef beams, all Russian men believe they're artists, perhaps it's true.
He bows slightly, "Da blagoslovit vas dorogoy, spasibo.” (bless you dear one,
thank you.)
Chef returns to his kitchen, a plate of cheese and cherry blintzes with vanilla ice
cream appears, the waiter says, "Our gift, enjoy."
Ellen takes a bite, offers the waiter her most devastating smile, "So good, that’s
real nice-a you mister."
He nods, "My pleasure," he goes off to take care of other tables, the girls finish up
the blintzes.
Ellen, "Wow and double wow. Such an amazing lunch. I must be turning Russian,
three vodkas and I don't feel buzzed, just real happy."
Katya, "We ate enough food to soak up three more vodkas, but we will walk
instead, just a short distance is Central Park."
Katja pays the tab in cash, leaves a thirty percent gratuity. Healthy and appreciative
without being absurd. They wave to the waiter, Katja points to the money, he nods.
They hit the street. Need a long walk to settle the big lunch.
Katya hikes them all the way across the park, from Columbus Circle, diagonally to
5th and 81st. And there is the massive Metropolitan Museum of Art.
They wander the rooms, dutifully taking in old masters, Chinese calligraphy and a
special El Greco exhibit.
Ellen, "Lot of religious stuff, not just El Greco, buncha the others too."
Katya, "In order to live, artists had to be sponsored, have patrons. Those people
wanted religious art, virgin and child, crucifixion, last supper."
"Oh, makes sense, gotta paint what pays."
They shoot the afternoon. So much to do in Manhattan, but it's the only day they
have to hang out. May as well see something thoroughly rather than blitz all over
town. Katya leads them to 77th and Lexington, they catch the 6 train downtown to
 65

Spring Street and walk over to the hotel on Broadway.

Ellen, "Sheesh, my feet hurt."
Katja, "Da, me too. We will put hot water in tub and soak."
Three girls line the edge of the tub for foot relief, when the water cools, they
switch to the walk-in shower then slip into t-shirts. It's pressing seven o'clock.
Katya, "We have eight twenty flight home. Need to be at airport for seven, leave
here for six maybe. I am arranging hire car, more comfortable than taxi."
Ellen, "Good, can we get something light in the room? If I have to walk again you
can shoot me now."
Katja, "Threw away gun, I can smother with pillow maybe."
Ellen kneels between her legs, "I know something else you can smother me with."
Hotels and girls, always a sensual combination. Ours are no different, new
environment, new sights and stimulations, call it travel foreplay.
*Note to men: A little not so secret secret. Want to spice up the sex? Take her on a
trip, good hotel, room service. Then she'll take you on a better trip, a really good
one if there’s chocolate involved.
The black town car is waiting, they are whisked to JFK, check in, do the security
line, plane takes off about ten minutes late. Home before noon.
Katja, "We are going to big shop, maybe one of the others. For dinner, look for
good Asian place, we will take out."
Ellen, "Great. Leave the luggage right there, I'll take care of stuff, see you later."
Katja and Katya take the Honda and go to check on the stores.

Twenty Three

Maria, "Welcome back, have fun?"

"Okay, we looked at property in Phoenix, nothing interesting. They don't have
much in the way of good donut shops. We rode all over, found two acceptable,
both Asian owners."
Since they went to New York to assassinate someone, the trip story has to be
elsewhere. Katya went online to read up on donut shops. It was evident from the
listings and Yelp there isn't much in Phoenix. The miracle of the internet, you can
be expert on places you've never been. If not expert, at least reasonably well
informed, unless it's a blog, who knows what truth is on those things.
Maria, "Never been. You going to open up in another state?"
"Thought about it. But it means long distance management, not a good idea.
Maybe we move someone from here who knows how to run shop, but to do it, we
need to open more than one. For now, Houston is enough."
Maria, "I have too much family here, moving won't work."
 66

"If we want, we can expand in Houston. We just want to see other cities, maybe
some other opportunity, rental property, like that. Maybe we buy something, hire
rental agent to operate. For now, just exploring America, a few days someplace
else."
"Ellen go?"
"Sure, she is easy to travel with, goes along with whatever. Good company."
Katja calls Ellen, "You remember story?"
Ellen, "Yeah, we went to Phoenix to hang out and see what's what. I found a place
to get take out, right now I'm restocking Russian Standard and a few bottles of
wine."
Katja clicks off.
Ellen laughs, the twins don't say goodbye, see you later or bite my butt. When
they're done, they disconnect. She pushes the cart to the checkout.
Maria, "Sales are steady, kids will be in from school soon."
Katja, "Cookies done?"
Maria, "Yes, cooling in back, I need to get them in the case.”
Kids start to file in, there's no time to chat until quarter to five. Katya returns from
another store.
"Business is good. Tomorrow I will go to the others," she looks at the display case,
almost empty, “business is good here too."
At home, Ellen is working the rowing machine, the twins stretch and tumble, walk
around on their hands, flip across the floor. They installed martial arts mats in the
exercise room, excellent for cushioned landings. After a half hour, showers, then
Ellen delivers drinks.
"I found a place called eight-eight-eight, reviews were good,” she's online, "how
about shrimp with garlic sauce, pork fried rice, orange chicken, wonton soup,"
should be plenty.
Katja, "Da, okay. You make order online?"
"Yes, we're a bit past their delivery zone, I'll go get it," she slips on jeans, jacket
and sneakers, "back in a bit."
Katya, "Ellen is a nice girl. I know she likes bossing around, but I am not anymore
doing it."
Close proximity and a second shot of vodka leads to affection, Ellen comes in to
the twins making out on the couch.
"Damn that’s steamy."
Katja comes over to help with the food, kisses Ellen, "I will open wine, maybe
white tonight."
Ellen goes off to relieve herself of jeans, sneakers are left at the door, they don't
wear street shoes in the house. When she returns, this time it's clothing free. She
 67

stands next to Katya's chair, earns the tingle of free roaming hands.
"I said you were getting me hot, figured I might as well get you hot. We can figure
out how to cool down later."
Half way through, Katja says, "Won Ton zoup ees good. Shreemp wiz garlic also.
How ees cheeken?"
Ellen, "Tasty, here have a bite," she spears a chunk and feeds Katja, "nice, white
meat and gristle free, we can order again sometime."
Katya, "Best is for Ellen to cook."
Ellen smiles, Katya isn't free with compliments.
Katja, "We are een killing business together, you are sister, not anymore servant.
Still take care of house, your job so we haf time to do our beezness. But equal, we
haf decide."
Ellen starts to say something, nothing comes out, just a jaw working with no
words.
Katya, "You look like fish drowning in air, lose voice?"
Ellen bites her lower lip, a tear sneaks down her cheek, then another, she's smiling
and crying, "I don't know what to say. Like, I've only had a screwy mom and her
useless perv boyfriends since my granny died. Now, I got people I care about."
Katya hands her a clean napkin, "Luchshiy ulybka prikhodit so slezami.” (the best
smile comes with tears.)
Ellen sniffles, grins, cries again.

Twenty Four

Katya, "We have a job."

Ellen, "Goody, where we going? Guess I should ask if I'm going first."
"Phoenix. I am going to pick up first payment and details from Penny today."
Katja, "Book flight?"
"Nyet, let me see who and what. Southwest goes several times a day. Phoenix is a
big city like Houston, I want to find out where the target is so we don't drive all
over the place."
Penny still doesn't know that Katya has a twin. Penny doesn’t know Katya, she
knows Vika. If Penny somehow finds out about a twin, Katya will tell her it was
for her sister's safety, that she isn't part of the contract business. Any accidental
mention of twins as contract killers narrows the list of suspects dramatically.
Katja spends the morning at the big shop, then a quick tour of the others. Katya is
already home, clicking off the miles on the stationary bike.
"Job is in Scottsdale, easy drive from the airport."
Ellen, "I thought it was Phoenix."
 68

Katya, "Scottsdale, Gilbert, Tempe, Chandler, Glendale, Mesa are all Phoenix.
They have different incorporation, but if you look at a map, it is just one big place.
Seems inefficient, different government, different police force, fire department,
school and library systems. Duplicate departments all doing the same thing."
Ellen, "You know, I never thought of it, but that's what they do, I wonder why?"
Katja, "So who ees target?"
"His name is Jack Joubert, he owns a gun shop."
Ellen, "Then he's gonna be carryin’."
"Da. In Arizona, you can carry a gun open or concealed with no permit. Just not
concealed into a public place, like a restaurant. Kind of stupid, who is going to
conceal gun walking down the street but leave it when they go into a store? It is
anyway easy to get a permit, then you can carry concealed anyplace unless
prohibited, like a court or any place that says no weapons. A gun shop owner will
have a permit."
"I wonder if he shot someone, or maybe sold a gun to someone who killed
someone else and this is revenge for that."
Katja, "Everyone we keel haf someone wiz reason, revenge, money, or maybe ees
afraid. We get paid, person dies."
Ellen, "True. And knowing makes for questions. Does somebody want them dead
for a justifiable reason?"
Katya, "No second guessing. Better not to know. Katja asked one person. It didn't
matter, we kill him anyway. California child pervert was obvious. Pointless trouble
to interview targets, have to trap someplace, ask questions. Maybe the person
escapes, then we have a big mess. Shoot and come home, somebody knows why,
just not us."
They fly to Phoenix, rent an SUV, drive to Scottsdale. Joubert's is in a strip mall,
big sign 'Guns,' which pretty much explains what's for sale inside.
Katja and Ellen wait in the car, Katya goes in, it's the middle of the week and the
place is empty. There's a camera over the counter and one in the front corner
covering the floor space. She's wearing a fedora and sunglasses, baggy jacket,
loose jeans and black sneakers.
Joubert appears from a room behind the counter, he's got a big Glock on his hip,
"Help you?"
Katya, "Never been in a gun store before, never owned a gun. I want protection,
not a giant gun like yours, something more manageable."
Joubert, "Got just the thing. Most women make the mistake of too small a weapon,
a .22 is lightweight, but it isn't going to stop a determined attacker. The smallest
caliber I'd use is .38. Got enough stopping power to do the job, and you can get one
in either a revolver or semiauto. A revolver is bulkier, but they seldom fail, like a
 69

bullet jams. You understand?"

"I looked up a few things. I know about revolvers and semiautomatics. I was
thinking revolver."
"Good. Now they come in a couple of types. Single action and double action.
Single means the trigger only drops the hammer, you have to click the hammer
back first. That's not smart, two steps instead of one in a scary situation. Double
action, the trigger pulls the hammer back and releases it to fire the bullet. It's also
safer. A double action has a harder trigger pull, less likely to go off if you don't
intend to shoot. I mean like if you drop it. A revolver is also smaller, harder for
someone to take away."
He shows her a few, she looks them over but doesn't touch anything.
"You can handle 'em, not loaded."
"Show me."
He demonstrates, she takes one and duplicates the dry fire, click, click, click, the
cylinder rotates around. He turns to get another one from the case, Katya wipes her
prints off the one she'd handled.
"Now this is a semiauto, just so you know. See, it's not as fat, and it can take a
bigger clip, more bullets. You ready to buy, or you want to try one? Got a small
range in back."
Katya, "No, you have been most helpful. I want one and I'm kind of scared of
them, need to think it over."
"Hope nobody confronts you while you do."
"Me too, thanks for your time, if I buy, I will come here."
She leaves, walks down the block away from the car, turns a corner. She didn't see
any cameras outside the store, but there's an intersection with traffic lights and
CCTV. It's not unthinkable that one catches the storefront, particularly given the
nature of the business.
Katja pulls over, Katya gets in, they drive to a coffee shop.
"Hard to do in the store. He has a security system, and not a cheap one with a
recorder under the counter. It goes to ADT. Disguised it would be hard to get a
description of us, but better not to be on camera at all. We will follow him tonight
when the store closes."
Ellen, "We aren't gettin' back today, gonna need a room."
Katya pulls out her phone, "Three Hampton Inns nearby, any one of them will do.
Let's get a room while we have time to kill. And we should pick up a second rental.
Better not to have three girls in the same car."
Car and hotel room acquired, Ellen goes to a supermarket for a few essentials, like
vodka for after the work is finished.
They kill the late afternoon with TV news which is news to nobody, people
 70

whining about the economy, immigration, minimum wage, abortion. The Middle
East is tense, several wars are going on, everybody's to blame, nobody's to blame.
At five thirty, Katja and Ellen take one car, Katya the second. They surround the
gun shop from a distance. Katya and Katja can communicate mentally, no need for
phone calls.
At six fifteen a customer leaves Joubert's, the open sign flips over to closed.
There's a back alley for deliveries and a dumpster, but Joubert leaves from the front
entrance, double deadbolts click over. The windows and the glass door are
protected by iron bars. A security light blinks on. Joubert walks to his F-150,
Glock still on his hip.
He drives twenty minutes, fair number of red lights in Scottsdale. Then into a
supermarket parking lot. Out of the truck, into the store. There's no chance to take
him here, it's still daylight and the lot is wide open with people pushing carts in
and out of the market.
Katya, "He lives about ten minutes from here. If he is getting groceries, he is likely
going home. I am driving to his house, you wait for him and follow."
"Da."
Katya does a slow drive by, if anyone else is at home, it isn't obvious. But it's a
stucco cookie cutter subdivision, fairly new. Not McMansions, but big enough,
Katya guesses three bedrooms, maybe a separate office.
"House is big for only one person. Do not see any activity, but houses here have a
back patio, kitchen and living area would be in the rear. I cannot see anything
back there, too early to have lights on."
"Target ees leef store now."
"Garage opens to the street. No good for shooting."
"We will haf to wait, see eef any person ees inside. I will look for a way to see back
of house."
Katya spots the F-150, she's far enough down the block just to be one of several
cars parked on the street. He turns in his drive, the garage door opens. There's a
second car inside, a tan Accord. The door slides back down.
"Another car in garage."
"Da, we see down side of house behind him. Lights came on in kitchen, there is a
woman. She ees taking grocery bag from target. He ees not quite in sight. Anyway,
now what?"
"We keep moving, neighborhood is quiet, but we can't just sit in cars. Let's see
what happens, maybe he leaves to run an errand, maybe she does. If they do not go
anyplace by nine, we go to the hotel.”

Twenty Five
 71

Joubert is late forties, maybe fifty, wife looks a bit younger from the little they can
see. Nobody else in the house, no kids, no dog. If they have children, they must be
grown and gone. They circle the neighborhood, swap positions out of caution. A
few cars pass, but nobody is on foot to pay them any attention.
It's nine fifteen.
Katya, "Let's go. I can see TV flicker, they aren't going anyplace tonight. Store
opens at ten, we will come here tomorrow early and see what happens."
Back at the Hampton, they knock back a vodka, share a pizza and are asleep by
eleven thirty.
This morning, Katya is in the car Katja had last night, Katja and Ellen in the other.
Everyone is armed and dangerous, including, one presumes, Joubert.
Garage door opens at seven thirty, the tan Accord backs out, Mrs. Joubert alone at
the wheel. Katya scoots into the garage, careful to step over the beam that stops the
door coming down, bent over she just makes it.
"Tell Ellen to go to the front door and knock. Give him a story about a stalled
car."
"Da."
Ellen walks to the front door and knocks.
Joubert doesn't open it, Ellen sees a shadow on the peephole in the front door,
"Who are you?"
"Car stalled, looking for jump start, I have cables."
He cracks the door, has his free hand on the butt of his holstered weapon, looks
over her shoulder, "Where's the car?"
"Halfway down the block."
Joubert unsnaps the safety strap on his holster, "So you walked past four houses to
try this one? What's that about?"
He startles at Katya's voice behind him, "We are not paid to kill them, only you."
He's quick to react, head jerks around, gun rises, Ellen and Katya fire
simultaneously, brain and blood paint the door. The Glock drops to the floor, body
topples next to it. Ellen walks to her car, Katya does quickie home exploration,
finds two thousand and change in cash. Into a gym bag goes the Glock and several
boxes of nine millimeters, along with two brand new .38 revolvers and a half
dozen boxes of bullets.
They are back in time to have the Hampton breakfast, "We will need to keep one
car and drive to Houston. Don’t want to ship this many guns or risk them in
luggage for TSA to steal."
Katja, "Ees okay, let me see," she gets the route on her phone, it's all I-10, but it's
also fifteen hours, "we will make a vacation. Six hours to El Paso, stay one night,
 72

next day seven hours to San Antonio, maybe stay a night or two, then only three
hours to Houston."
In the car, Ellen says, "Nine grand to take a plane ride to Phoenix, and a tour
through south Texas. And I got to shoot his ass," she giggles.
Katya, "This time, Katja kept watch from car. Maybe somebody comes along and
she has to deal. Cops patrol, neighbor stops by, have to distract or disable."
Ellen, "We haven't talked about it, how far do we take distract or disable?"
Katja, "Until they are no more a problem. Every time will be deeferent, you haf to
eemprovise. If you can distract with talking, okay, if you have to knock out, okay.
You may have to keel. We are not going to jail because of nosy neighbor or cop on
patrol."
Ellen, "So I shoot a cop if I need to?"
"You want instead prison?"
Ellen, "Uh...no, orange ain't my new black."
"Then shoot, and you haf to shoot anyone who can connect you also to target. No
witness, no prison."
Ellen, "I got it."
They don't stop for lunch, just gas and coffee, in El Paso at four thirty, master suite
at the Camino Real. El Paso is a cheap date, good hotel, suite only one eighty a
night. The room is pure commercial plain, clean and spacious though.
Ellen, "Maybe a walk around downtown, then a shower, I need to move after sittin'
in the car."
After a long walk and a warm shower, nice and unwound, they decide on the
County Line. A few beers and big rib platters later, they make their way back to
the suite, have a nightcap, then each other for dessert. Sated and sexed, it's near
eight the next morning when they start to stir.
Ellen, "I got coffee comin', don't know if anyone wants breakfast, just told 'em to
send up a basket of rolls or pastry."
Katya, "Plenty, ribs were good last night."
Ellen, "Ate my damn share. I gotta make us some baby backs at home, try out a
few barbeque sauce recipes."
They caffeinate, put the rolls in a bag, pack up the little they brought and get on the
road. The breakfast pastry makes for lunch, another couple of coffee stops and they
roll into San Antonio at quarter to five.
Katya, "We are at Hyatt Riverwalk, a suite, nice sitting area, big bed, two baths
and a wet bar.”
Ellen, "Sure is nice to travel first class, sheesh, this is neat, view of the whole damn
city."
Katya, "Let’s see what Riverwalk is all about."
 73

Stroll up and down, stop for a frozen margarita, then come on Bohanan's, Katja
looks over the menu.
"This ees good place, I am for feesh, they haf all kinds of beef also."
Round of vodka shots, then another, followed by lump crab and shrimp cocktails,
seared sea bass and grilled red snapper, split a crème brulée and double chocolate
brownie.
Ellen, "Damn, I gotta pedal that bike a hundred miles when I get home, row
another hundred."
Katya, "We are having a little vacation, time to splurge. Tomorrow, we will see
San Antonio, find a lunch place, goof off. Plenty of work when we get home."
In the suite, Ellen says, "Let's watch a movie and finish getting plastered."
It's good to have a plan.

Twenty Six

Since the Riverwalk is fifteen miles up one side and down the other, they get a
workout by touristing. They make about five miles one way, find a lunch spot, see
the Alamo, walk back to the Hyatt. There are shops, even department stores, but
it's nice outside and the twins aren't shoppers anyway. The idea of twenty pairs of
shoes would never occur.
Ellen, "Wound up getting a long walk in, what time is it?"
Katya, "Five. Time for a bath and relax."
"We will haf Mexican tonight, or back to Bohanan for steak."
Ellen, "Mexican sounds like fun, just pig on nachos and margaritas."
Katya, "Good for me."
They wind up off the Riverwalk, a place downtown called Rosario's.
Ellen, "Well they got the margarita part right, this house special with orange
liqueur is a damn good idea, I gotta make us these at home. Travel is fillin’ me up
with recipe ideas."
Big plate of beef fajita nachos, second round of margaritas. They stick with
traditional entrees, enchiladas, flautas, crispy tacos, mixed beef and chicken.
No dessert, and after two margaritas and two beers, best to move along. The twins
have Russian alcohol capacity, not precisely sober, but hardly drunk. Ellen is
giggly, but after the filling meal she's tipsy, not stupid smashed.
Ellen decides a double down on her twins is a fabulous idea. She takes them on the
couch in the sitting room, then to bed. Katja dozes off while Katya straps up and
elevates Ellen up to and through an enthusiastic orgasm, then a second.
Katya snuggles into her sister, covered from behind by Ellen's curvy tight legs. It's
after midnight, no one stirs until eight thirty.
 74

Ellen stretches, "Damn that was good, Katya fucked me sideways silly. Guess we
need to clear out and get home."
Katja, "Da, I will find a donut shop, we will see what ees in San Antonio."
On the way, they stop at Snowflake, a half dozen variety for a taste test while they
drive.
"Ees only standard, better than chain Kreespy Krim."
Ellen, "No, your place blows these away, too heavy, your dough is airy and light.
Good, not exceptional, and Krispy Kreme is just nasty."
Katya, "They have a small selection, probably smart, cater to breakfast business,
close early. Breakfast croissant is okay, but not very much filling. We overfill."
"We charge more, they haf cheaper price. Place had steady crowd, must be doing
something okay."
Ellen, "They got their way. Must be two dozen places in Houston with the same
kind of product. I think of Katya Donut as gourmet food, not just sugar bread. Still,
hardly ever had a donut I couldn't warm up to, soul comfort in a paper bag."
Penny calls Katya about an hour in, "You available?"
"Da, yes, later today."
"I'm around, see you then."
Katya clicks off, "Need to see Penny this afternoon."
Ellen, "Great, a payday right behind a payday, wonder where? What if it's San
Antonio? Wouldn't that be a coincidence?"
Back home, they skip lunch, donuts will hold them until dinner. Katya leaves to
see Penny, Katja and Ellen do a tour of the shops. Katja's satisfied, they return to
the house, Katya's back, rowing away on the machine.
"What ees job?"
Katya stops, towels her sweaty face, "Cop, police captain."
Ellen, "Sounds dicey."
"Our end is fifty thousand."
"Fuck yeah, for that much, I'll use two bullets. How soon's he need to be dead?"
"Before end of next week. He is to testify the week after that."
Katja, "What ees case?"
"Police corruption, he sold protection to bad guys, drug dealer, pimp, illegal guns."
Ellen, "They couldn't figure out people weren't getting arrested?"
"New gang comes along, he arrests new gang, not old gang who pays him. He got
in trouble because he sold out to new gang, arrested old gang bosses, now they turn
on him."
"Ees stupid."
Ellen, "I'll say, he couldn't see that coming?"
"Got a lot of cash. He tried to make it look like another unit, not him, but in the end
 75

they found out he was the source. Drug dealers in jail, cop is out on bail but
monitored at home. We get more money because getting to the cop is risky."
Ellen, “So it must have hit the news, corrupt cop is a big story.”
"Where ees job?"
"San Antonio."
Ellen, "Well sheeyt, makin' a round trip."
Katya, "We stay here until Sunday, then to his house and see what the situation is.
It is Thursday, we need to go to our range tomorrow, rifle practice. We may need
to do this long distance."
They're working with silenced Ruger rifles, a Mini-14 and a Mini-30. The fourteen
uses .223 ammunition, the 30 uses .308. The difference is significant over distance.
For a hundred, even two hundred yard shot, the smaller caliber is fine. For
anything longer, they'll need the .308.
Drop is another factor, on a five or six hundred yard shot, a bullet can drop six feet
or more. If you just aim at his head, the bullet lands in the dirt. Wind and rain
require other adjustments if it's a distance kill. None of these problems are likely to
be involved, Katya figures maybe a hundred yards at most. Still, they practice up to
five hundred. Ellen is the best at it, none of them hit the distance target the first few
rounds. Slowly, they improve accuracy, but they aren't military snipers by a long
shot. Is that a pun?
Katya, "We will have to get reasonably close, a hundred yards. We are not good
enough for more distance, lots more practice and under varied conditions."
Katja, "We are anyway good enough for this job, time to go home, clean guns,
have vodka."
Ellen, "Good to have a plan.”

Twenty Seven

It's a Sunday, two thirty in the afternoon. Assassin girls are down the street from
the target's house. Two cops in an unmarked car in front, a uniform at the back
door.
The gang he's going to testify against decided hiring outside talent to dispose of
their problem was less risky than DIY. A hundred thousand versus a lengthy
stretch in a Texas jail is a bargain.
Katya, "Cops aren't taking chances, windows closed, blinds drawn. He's alone in
there, sent his wife off someplace until it is over."
Ellen, "How in hell we gonna get to him?"
Katja, "We haf to get cop in back out of the way."
 76

"We gonna kill him too?"

Katya, "Nyet, not unless it is the only option. Maybe air gun and tranquilizer dart.
We watch the rest of the day, maybe target comes out for some reason."
By eight nothing happens, they go to the hotel, this time a standard Hampton, no
Riverwalk, no distractions.
Ellen and Katja research dart guns, the dilemma is the tranquillizer, a veterinary
prescription item. They would have to break into a clinic or find a substitute.
Katya surfs the net, finds out how to make chloroform, it's pretty simple. Bleach,
acetone, ice, containers and a funnel.
"We will have to restrain him and keep the towel over his mouth until we're done.
He can wake up pretty quickly if we don't. It might make him sick, and if he
breathes it for a long time it will kill him."
Ellen, "Once we have him out, we don't want to take a lot of time anyway. Going
to be tricky, a cop is trained to react, and he's on guard in the first place."
Katya, "I am not in favor. If we had tranquilizer we could shoot from the air rifle,
that's better. If we inject chloroform, we kill him."
Katja, "Then keel cop first."
Ellen, "Might be the only way to do it."
Katya, "Tonight we will watch. Cop has to go to the toilet, he either pees in bushes
or goes inside. Maybe we can get to house while he's inside, surprise him when he
comes out."
It's ten thirty, cops switched shifts at eight. The back door guy has been inside
once, about long enough to use the toilet, came out with a cup of coffee. They
heard him say something as he left the house, only person inside is the target.
Katya and Ellen are too far away to catch the words. Katja is watching the street
side.
She mentals her sister, "Nothing, cops sit in car, they went to house one at a time.
Back now, just sitting."
Katya, "We may get a shot from here. Cop talked to target but the door was only
partially open, could not see him. Lights stay on in house, probably all night for
guards to go in and out. Target bedroom looks like it is back left, light came on
after back door cop returned to his post."
"You can no see shadow move?"
"No, blinds drawn and curtains closed."
"Da, okay, we wait. Ellen haf rifle ready ?"
"If she gets clear shot, she will take it."
About two, back door cop goes inside.
Katya moves to the house, "I am going to take care of this one, then we will go in
and finish job. Two cops, they are still in car?"
 77

"Da, car window ees down though, be quiet."

The back door opens into the house, there's a screen door that opens out to the left.
Katya puts herself to the right, Ellen is behind her. The door opens, then the screen
door opens, Katya has her gun to the side of the cop's head.
"Don't turn around, don't even breathe, you never see me, go home alive. Fuck
around, go home dead, two cops in front go home dead."
Her voice is breathy and low, she won't be mistaken for a man, oh well. She takes
his service revolver, Ellen pulls his arms back and cuffs him with his own cuffs, he
tries for cool, "You aren't getting away..."
Katya taps him hard with the butt of his gun, hard enough to produce stars and a
stumble, "I don't mind killing you, try not to be stupid."
Ellen wraps duct tape around his mouth, pulls a cloth sack over his head and
secures it, pulls him down, tapes his ankles together.
"I have your gun and my gun. I don't think you want to get shot with your own
gun, be still and live."
He can't reply, can't see, can't move, Katja backs away, Ellen goes inside.
In front, the driver's door opens, the plainclothes starts to step out.
Katja's in a ski mask, moves next to him, puts her gun to his head, "Not now, sit,
she clicks the door shut, “passenger, be very still and everybody lives. Hands on
the dash."
Passenger can't resist cop macho, he tries to ease out his weapon, Katja taps the
driver across the bridge of his nose enough to smart, not to break it, then shoots the
passenger door armrest. The silencer works well, little more than a soft pop inside
the car.
"Take the gun out with your left hand, two fingers, drop it over the back seat," she
pulls driver's weapon, tosses it behind him, "now handcuff yourselves together,
through the steering wheel."
A bit of shifting, passenger tries to distract her with patter, she shoots the radio,
"Shut the fuck up and get it done. She pops off another round between passenger's
feet, "Next shot is your knee."
No more swagger, one set of cuffs bind a right and left through the steering wheel,
second set duplicates.
Katja, "Out of curiosity, why is he in protective custody? You made the job harder.
He was supposed to go two months ago, then he's arrested. It took me a while to
figure out."
Passenger cop, "Due to testify against some very bad guys."
Katja, "Didn't know that. Sorry your case got screwed up. I’m not cheap, he must
have pissed somebody off big time.”
They look at each other, driver looks at Katja, "Looks that way."
 78

Katya, "It is done, we are where you dropped us off."

Katja tells the two cops, "Simple now. Cop behind the house is tied up, bump on
his head. I leave, you can honk the horn until someone shows up, it will be noisy
and embarrassing. I call it in and only your people will find you, not the whole
neighborhood and a news crew. What do you want?"
Driver shrugs, trades a glance with his partner, then, "Call it in."
Katja crosses over one street, collects the car, takes the first left then down two
blocks, Ellen and Katya get in.
Katya, "They will figure out there had to be at least two of us. It will be on the
news, and it will get back to Penny. We are not going to be able to pretend I am the
only one in this."
Ellen, "I didn't say nuthin', guess I could be man or woman, they gonna know it
was three."
"No, back door cop knows two people, one a woman. Cops in car know one
woman. From their point of view, it could be the same one. Katja knew the back
door cop was tied up with a busted head, they will think she was there. One person
goes in and shoots the target, the other handles the cops in the car. Three may
never occur to them."
"Too bad Katja had to get involved."
"Nothing to do, it was a fluke that he gets out of the car just then, she couldn't just
sit around and hope he was not going to the house. Once he got clear of the car,
there would be no way to control the situation but to shoot them both. We left
bullets in their car, and one in the target. I think this time we get rid of both guns.
One other bit of luck, dead quiet neighborhood. Also, Katja made her accent go
away."
Ellen, "I didn't think of that, she did? How'd you do it?"
"No accent on jobs, Katya has almost no accent.....I keep mine but I can speak
proper English when I want to."
Katya, "We should learn another language, enough to communicate on the job.
Spanish is common enough, but that's a problem. There are lots of Hispanics who
would understand. We cannot use Russian, it gives us away."
Ellen, "I always wanted to learn something Asian, like Japanese. Don't know if I
can learn the writin' though."
"We don't haf to learn kanji, just only to talk. I will buy a program, we will learn
enough for work."
Ellen, "What are you gonna to tell Penny?"
"That I hired help and paid him out of my end. She doesn't know about twins, she
doesn't want to know more than she has to."
Ellen, "I'm too wired to sleep, let's just grab our stuff from the hotel, I'll drive, you
 79

can sleep if you want."

Four hours later, they're home. Along the way two unloaded guns go in different
street drains. Katya left the back door cop's service piece near him on the ground.
Embarrassing enough to be found trussed up with his own handcuffs and duct tape
without having his gun disappear too.
Two days later, Penny hands Katya an envelope, "The balance. Client is happy,
you're happy, I'm happy… cops, not so happy. But if the cops were happy, we
wouldn't be happy. Can't please everyone. News is up in arms in San Antonio,
three cops overcome and their witness dead. Naturally all the fingers point to the
dealers, but they were alibied tight, in jail at the time. There's talk the drug dealers
got nothing to do with it. Leaked that the hit was scheduled before the cop was
busted."
Katya, "I managed to drop the hint that the arrest messed up my original plan.
Drug guys will still be suspects, but they knew that when they looked for an
outside contractor."
Penny, "So you hired help."
"Yes, a guy I know, or I know now, he was referred to me. With the target under
house arrest, I needed help, I paid him out of my end. He did well, might use him
again."
Penny, "Local?"
"No, Chicago, originally from one of the Slavic break offs. Barely speaks English,
which I considered a plus. On the job, I did the talking, he was silent. The police
there have no real idea what happened or who hired who for what reason."
"Your making a rep, difficult job carried off as efficiently as could be expected.
Didn't kill three cops, far less messy and made it work by confusing the issue.
Course, we might wind up taking work from bad guys."
"We are bad guys, people who pay to have someone murdered are bad guys."
Penny, "Some days I think there are no good guys, just bad and worse."
"That’s why we get paid."
The killers weren’t described in the press, cops decided to keep the fact that,
apparently, two women took down three cops and killed the target. The girls
assume it’s one of those bits they hold back until arrests are made.
Back home, Katya puts the second twenty five in the safe next to the first twenty
five. They don't deposit contract money until a couple of months after the jobs and
then only in smaller amounts. It's Penny's job to check cash for markers and verify
it's not fake. Katya always double checks, so far, Penny's been right on the money
about the money.
Ellen, "That was fun, target was asleep, dead to the world, then just dead. I
wouldn't mind goin' out like that."
 80

Katja, "Maybe I will shoot you when you are old lady."
"Just make sure it's old, not, like forty, anytime after fifty will do. Can we spend
some of the money? I liked goin' to New York, get outta Texas, see the world.
Maybe we can go to Japan when we get better at the language."
Katya, "Practice every day for a year, then we will see."
Katja, "Where do you want to go?"
Ellen, "Weather's gettin' chilly, maybe the beach, the Caribbean, Bermuda or
Jamaica, like that. Want me to look up some spots?"
Katya, "Da, okay, January or February. Unless work comes up. Do not get
anything that cannot be changed."
Ellen, "Goody, this'll be fun ya'll, beach, sun, little nothing bikini. Hang out, fresh
seafood and cold beer."
They begin to learn a few phrases in Japanese, a language program won’t help,
that’s for tourists. Katya wants to learn the kanji, with her eidetic memory she can
do it on her own from the internet and an English Japanese dictionary.
Ellen, "Great! One of us will be able to read signs and stuff and it ain't gotta be me.
I made reservations, we fly to Bermuda, The Fairmont Southampton, a one bed
suite, two baths, two balconies, look at this beach!"
Katja, "Ees nice, what ees flight?"
"Everything has a stop from Houston, but not too bad. To Atlanta, then Hamilton,
the Bermuda airport. About six hours total. I put us in first class."
Katja, "You haf passport?"
"No, I need one?"
Katya, "Yes, it is simple, fill out a form, attach a photo, take it to a post office that
handles passports. Get the expedited service, takes maybe three weeks."
"I'll get it done tomorrow. Wow, a passport, like a world fuckin' traveler. Nobody
trailer trash Ellen is going first class to a suite in Bermuda for a week with two
luscious twins. Got-tam, how the world turns," she sniffles, teary eyed.
"S'all causa you guys, I mighta had to move to frickin' Oklahoma with my useless
mother."
Katja, "Do not make seetimental, you haf done your job for us well. We are glad
for having you. Now feex something good for dinner, sister ees hungry and ees
anyway time for vodka cocktail."
Ellen smiles, kisses Katja, "Still, thank you."
"Da, da, ees fine now already, haf a drink, what ees dinner?"
"I got filets marinating, gonna fire up the grill and scorch 'em, loaded baked, the
creamed spinach we like. Bottle of decent Cabernet too."
Katya is halfway through a not quite medium rare charred filet. Twins like it not
bloody but not warm pink either, warm red.
 81

"Very good Ellen, you are grill expert, as good as any steakhouse, even better, we
can enjoy it at home."
Ellen, "I got us a good one, gets hotter'n hell, great temperature control. Sear both
sides, lower the heat and wait. Found out that adding nutmeg and orange zest
makes 'em tasty, and dusting with baking soda and salt keeps the pepper from
coming off on the grill. Some kinda chemical thing."
Katja tells Katya, "Maybe later we will dust Ellen wiz nootmaig and orange
zesting, she will be also tasty."
Ellen giggles, "Last time you used powdered sugar, I was dessert."

Twenty Eight

Flights go smoothly, good thing, they only had a fifty five minute window in
Atlanta. A thunderstorm could have blown that all to pieces, but it didn't. They
land at Hamilton on time, pick up a standard rental sedan and drive to the
Fairmont. The airport is on one end, the hotel on the other, but it's a small island, a
thirty minute drive.
Ellen, "I gotta pay attention, the car is backwards, roads too."
It's afternoon, flight in at one forty, half hour for customs, luggage, car rental and
drive. Arrive at the hotel without running over anyone, up to the suite.
Ellen, "What ch'all wanna do? I say we put on suits and take a walk on the beach,
find us a beer."
Bikini'd, floppy hats and a wrap, they make their way down the beach.
Ellen, "Damn, look at that water, see clear to the bottom, it's gorgeous. Seventy
degrees and sunny. It was forty five and wet when we left Houston.""
Katja, "Ees beautiful place, good for us coming here. No beezness, nobody to
shoot. Sister ees relax."
It is good for Katya, she's wrapped tighter than her sister. Neither girl had a good
experience with their mother, unstable even before twins came along. She was
expecting one child, not two. In her fragile brain, the second to be born, Katya, was
a punishment, a curse. When the beatings came, they were directed to Katya far
more than Katja. Towards the end, Katja figured out that changing identities would
save her sister some punishment, she became Katya until mom disappeared. Lucky
for mom, she was a razor’s edge away from the twins' vengeance.
Parked at the Cabana Bar, cold Stella Artois draft, snack of jalapeno poppers,
avocado guacamole and tortilla chips to accompany.
Ellen, "Damn, life is good. Seventy degrees and sunny. It was forty five and wet
when we left Houston."
A table of golf dweebs is eyeing the girls, only Ellen notices, "Guy across the way
 82

gonna make a move."

One stands, stroll over, "Afternoon ladies, like to invite you over for a drink, if
you've a mind."
Ellen, careful not to smile, "Appreciate it, but no thanks."
"Well then, if you change your mind, just come on over. Tomorrow we'll be taking
one of the boats out for a reef dive. Love to have you join us, beautiful sight, all
those fish."
Katya and Katja have been stone still, the man flicks his eyes from Ellen to Katya.
He feels a chill, colder than the slight breeze off the beach could create. He decides
retreat is the best course of action.
"Perhaps another time," he walks back to his pals, says something, they glance
over, return to their drinks.
Ellen laughs, "Katya, you nearly blew out his brain with that death stare."
Katja, "Sister ees not for making chitting chat wiz men."
Ellen, "I noticed, 'nother minute he'd wet his ugly red pants."
Another round of beer, then a third, they don't talk much, just absorb the calm
Caribbean crystal water. Late afternoon eases into early evening.
After a warm shower, Ellen is surfing dinner options, "Steak, burgers or seafood?"
Katja pours three vodka shots, "Seafood."
Ellen, "Ocean Club. Lots of options."
After lobster bisque and seafood corn chowder, they share pan seared whaoo,
swordfish and steelhead trout. Add three sauces, piquillo pepper aioli, kaffir lime
sauce and cajun garlic butter to flavor the fish.
Katja, "I never haf piquillo pepper, ees good, not hot, sweet only."
Ellen, "I’ve seen them in the store, comes in jars like artichoke hearts. I can make
this for our grilled fish, might be good in spaghetti sauce too, or even with pulled
pork."
Dinner over, no dessert, they opt to go to the room. Cold vodka shots and three
naked girls don't take long to create sexual mayhem. An hour later, Ellen is
searching for air, a discarded strap-on vibrates on the floor.
Katja is to the right, kissing long silky legs, Katya is snuggled on Ellen's left, she
sighs, "I am the best fucked girl in Bermuda."
Katja's made her way up the inside of Ellen's thigh, leading to the inevitable, Ellen
gasps, "Christ, oh sheeyt, now I'm for sure gonna lose my mind."
A few minutes later she does, at least if you count a near unintelligible string of
joyfully profane verbalizations broken only by squeaks and moans.
Next morning they don't start moving until nearly ten, Ellen, "We killed a bottle of
vodka between us last night. There's seventeen shots in a seven fifty, five or so
each. Guess that ain't so bad after a big dinner. You guys don't look worse for the
 83

wear."
Katya ,"We are Russian, vodka is functional necessity like strong black tea, also
caviar, the three food groups."
Ellen laughs, "I'm turning Russian. I need to listen to my Japanese program, gonna
park on the balcony naked, catch the sun and practice."
Katja and Katya join her, the lessons are a half hour each, after one, they turn over
to tummy for the second. Then inside, an hour of Caribbean sun is enough.
Showers, airy sundresses and a drive around the island seems right. They pick up
fish sandwiches at Art Mels, the hotel concierge said it was a must stop. It's a tiny
place, no tables, just order, take the bag and go.
Ellen, "These fries are great, and a fried fish sandwich on raisin bread, whoda
thought?"
Katja, "We could have gone with two, ees beegest sandwich ever."
Katya's eating the fish and leaving the bread, "fish is nice and crisp, like Ellen
makes."
Ellen, "How sweet. I love cooking for you, good appetites, not picky."
Katya, "Appetit prikhodit vo vremya yedy."
Ellen, "What's that mean? I got appetite."
Katja, "Appetite comes with eating."
"Awww, even sweeter."
They drive to Hamilton City, park, walk Front Street and enjoy the loads of shops.
The twins aren't shoppers, they tend to stick with basics in clothes and shoes, and
not a lot of either. Ellen is more fashionable, but it isn't a life mission for her. She
manages a couple of skirts, a gauzy blouse, one pair funky leather clogs. Stop for
tea at the Hamilton Princess, British style, scones and colorful pastries accompany.

At five, drive back to the hotel, into swimsuits and a late afternoon ocean swim
followed by a walk down the beach. It's near seven thirty when they return.
Ellen, "Long walk in town, swim, long walk on the beach, you guys hungry?"
Katya, "What are the other options?"
"Tonight I suggest Newport, they have light to heavy, I'm in the mood for a burger,
they have fried chicken, all kinds of things, open until eleven."
Katja, "We will shower, haf cocktail vodka, eight thirty."
Katja isn't issuing an order, it's how she suggests, directly. If the others wanted to
do it differently, they would say so and Katja would be fine with it. Ellen
understands her two sociopathic darlings, she's one of them, just a more sociable
sociopath.

Twenty Nine
 84

Two more days at the beach, nap in the afternoons, long late dinners followed by
long later intimacies. Today another tour of town.
On Front Street, drums bang, Gombey dancers hop around in colorful costumes.
Katja, "Bang drum and blow wheestle, what ees point?"
Ellen laughs, "I got no clue. To make a lot of noise maybe, costumes are nice."
Katya, "They call it Gombey, I do not know why. It is a slave tradition. There is a
version in New Orleans Mardi Gras, black people make an Indian tribe, with
elaborate feather costumes. They parade around the city on Mardi Gras day."
Ellen, "Why do you know that?"
Katya, "We spent a lot of time in libraries and bookstores on the internet when we
were children. Most of the time was on lessons, we never went to school. But
sometimes just surf around. I must have seen it then."
A woman screams, "Hey! That kid stole my purse, stop him!"
The street is empty between the woman and the girls except for a skinny teenage
boy running flat out towards them. Appears he figures three girls aren't going to do
anything.
Katya and Katja appear to step apart, clearing the path for him. As he passes,
Katja's foot extends and snaps his ankles. He flies face first to the asphalt. Katya
steps on his wrist, he howls, she takes the purse.
"Get lost."
He looks up at her, she removes her foot, he jumps up and tries to snatch the purse
from her. Slow learner, Katja's fist meets his solar plexus with bad intent. He keels
over gasping. A bit of prefrontal cortex kicks in and he takes off, bent over holding
his gut.
The woman's had time to catch up, "Thanks so much, the little beggar. Why'd you
let him go? He needs to be arrested."
Katya, "We are not police, and we do not want to stand around and talk to police.,"
she holds out the purse, "here."
The woman takes it, "Guess you're right, bunch of time giving a report, for a kid
who probably has next to nothing. Still, doesn't make it right for him to be
stealing."
The girls turn to leave, a crowd has gathered, the constabulary will be along soon.
Woman, "Can I give you a small reward? I don't know what else to do but say
thanks again."
Katya, "Not necessary."
"Then let me buy you a drink, I need one myself, my heart's still racing."
She's with a friend, another middle aged woman. They find a pub with a view of
the harbor, table on the balcony. The girls get beer, woman and friend order
 85

daiquiris.
Woman, "I'm Frieda, this is my friend Carole, we're having a get away from
husband week. Cruise down here, just from Miami. We flew down from New
Jersey. Where are you girls from?"
Ellen, "Phoenix. We wanted to see actual ocean, there isn't any in Arizona."
There's no particular reason to lie, but they don't know these women, so she moves
home over a couple of states.
"Phoenix, never been, is it nice?"
Ellen, "Very well run, orderly, things work. Hot as hell in the summertime though.
We generally bail in July and August. It starts to cool off around mid September.
Never been on a cruise, how is it?"
Carole, "A nightmare. Boat's huge, rooms small. Food's good enough. God knows
there's enough of it, a buffet practically twenty four hours a day. Bunch of oldies,
retired baby boomers and up, like a geriatric ward."
Ellen laughs, "Think we can skip it."
Frieda, "We wanted to try it, it's not quite as bad as Carole makes out, and the view
on deck is breathtaking. I'm okay with plopping on a deck chair and reading, or just
looking, cocktail in hand, let the world go by. Carole needs to move around more,
she must've done twenty miles around the decks."
They've finished the beers, Frieda asks if they'd like another round, they decline.
Katya, "Thank you for the drink."
Frieda, "Oh my, thank you dear girl, you saved my vacation. My life is in that
purse, cards, passport, drivers license and phone. Boy yanked it off my arm, broke
the strap. Doesn't matter, you were both quite brave, he could have been violent."
Ellen smiles, the poor kid made the best choice, cut his losses and scram. Getting
in Katja's face would have put him in the hospital.
They drive back to the Fairmont, Ellen, "That was fun, Katja near made him lose
his lunch. Maybe he hadn't had lunch, why he stole the purse. Still, he coulda stole
food from someplace, not rip a purse out of some woman's arm."
Katja, "He ees grab and run boy. Not hungry, just get cash, phone, credit card,
scare people. When we were young, we steal from house, also take purse, but not
grab off woman's arm. Katya distract wiz question, I take purse from chair or table.
We take cash and maybe credit card, leaf license, phone, keys. We are nice thief,
don't scare anyone."
Ellen giggles, "Amazed you got away with squatting in houses all those years."
Katja, "Glad to be out of it. Never can haf anything except what ees een backpack.
Now we haf house, food in refrigerator, TV, computer, car, rowing machine,
treadmill, own bed, sexy girl to play with."
Ellen, "I'm a good part I hope."
 86

Katya, "Top part, we would give up the rest before you."

Ellen's quiet, she swipes a finger under her eye, can't be crying and driving.

Thirty

Vacation over, back in Houston it's chilly and damp. At Houston's latitude, winter
is mid-December to mid-February, two or three days of thirty or forty, occasional
freeze, followed by a few days of seventy. It rains frequently, a miniscule amount
of snow every few years, infrequent ice and hail.
Ellen, "Where's my blue water beach?"
Katja, "We will make more trip, relaxing for us, now we must work hard again."
Katya, "We have extra money, I do not want more shops, building we own is
paying okay. We should decide, buy property or put in stock market."
Ellen, 'I don't know squat about either, whatever you think is good by me."
"I am studying investments. There is a way to own property that we cannot afford
on our own. It is a stock, but has special benefit. Pays dividend and does not pay
corporate tax. They buy big building, office, apartment complex, warehouse, any
kind of commercial property. A REIT, real estate investment trust. And there is an
index that has different REITs inside, for diversity. We get dividends plus when
property goes up in price, the stock is worth more. There are other index stocks, for
small company, middle size, big, like General Electric or Microsoft. We will buy
some of each index."
Ellen, "Don't it go up and down, like we could lose money?"
"Yes, I am only putting money we do not use for anything. We do not need a
bigger house or swimming pool, better to keep a low profile. One day, we will
want to get out of killing business maybe, just hang at donut shop, take trips. We
will make investment for that."
Ellen, "I never thought I'd ever have extra money, money I wasn't gonna pay next
month's rent with."
Katya, "Our retail building ees maybe three quarters of a million, we have a small
mortgage, but only one hundred thousand. Donut shops pay us, I do not know what
I could sell them for, but we are not selling them anyway. We have just about one
million in cash, eight hundred in bank, the rest in safety deposit box, twenty or
thirty in safe here at home."
Ellen, "What? Run that by me again, a million fuckin' dollars...in money?"
Katja, "Da. We do not anymore haf to steal purse."
Ellen blinks, "I guess not, damn, a million dollars."
Katya, "House is paid for, maybe three hundred from all our improvement, but we
need a place to live, not selling it either. Our shooting house is worth a little, not
 87

that much."
Ellen, "Do you keep it, like at least on paper, divided up?"
Katya, "No, it is one third each."
Ellen, "That ain't right. You pay me a salary, why should I get a third?"
Katja, "Because we want it that way, donut shops and property belong to us, you
have one third of cash."
Ellen shrugs, "Then I don't take no more salary. Not a dime. I can't be takin' money
and you givin' me an equal share on top. You took the risk of bank loans, startin'
the business, I just cook and clean. And don't say nothin', it ain't, isn’t, a
discussion, no more pay."
Katya, "As you wish."
"Let's get goin' on the Japanese lessons, that stuff's hard. My English isn't that
great, now I'm learnin' Russian and Japanese, I must be crazy."
Katja, "We do not haf you here for good English, we haf you for cooking and
making sex. Also killing. Your Russian ees good, maybe not like native person, but
anyway we are understanding you enough."
Ellen giggles, "Thank you sweetie, and for a clear job description, cooking and sex
works for me. Which one you want right now?"
Katya, "First Japanese, one hour, then sex, then cook."
They move to the kitchen table, Ellen pours black tea, they listen, repeat, listen,
repeat. Pimsleur doesn't let you think too long, you have to stay engaged, but you
will learn to be passably conversational. The girls have an advantage, they can
practice what they've learned throughout the day. Katya picks it up instantly, she
can coach when Katja and Ellen get stuck on a phrase. After a few months, they
will be able to negotiate Japan for airlines, trains, restaurants, hotels and simple
conversation. Business negotiation is an entirely different set of rules, what is too
personal, nuances of pronunciation, slang and arcane meanings takes years, and
best accomplished living in Japan. They aren't in it for that. They just want to be
able to talk to each other without people understanding.
Why does it matter if the target is going to be dead anyway?
Good question. Sometimes there may be inadvertent witnesses, someone unknown
in another room, an open phone line, better to have them think it was oriental
assassins. They can discuss strategy in a coffee shop or store with little likelihood
of being understood. People blank out when they don't understand a language.
Katya, "We will also disguise as Japanese, make eyes more oriental, hair will be
dark or black, contact lens, glasses or sunglasses. People will see vaguely oriental,
brain will turn it into completely oriental, particularly after they hear Japanese.
Most people will not know it is Japanese, just Asian sounding."
Ellen, "Cool, I'll be like a samurai. I'm gettin' one a them black bandanas."
 88

Katja, "First, you will take off clothes and give sisters sex."
"You two have the best priorities, can I watch Katya do you a little first, sets my
perv brain boiling."
The twins are happy to re-fulfill Ellen's fantasy, they've been going at it with each
other since before Ellen, and Katya jumps her sister even when Ellen's not around.
Katja encourages her sister's attentions, flirts with her all the time. Snags a quick
kiss, snuggles next to her on the couch, short t-shirt, panty free, soap in the shower.
What works particularly well is making out with Ellen in the kitchen. So far, it's
never failed to get Katya on her knees doing both of them as they lean against the
counter and kiss. 2incest + 1 = orgasmic fun.
Penny calls, "Had enough layoff?"
Katya, "Last job was three months ago, wondering if there was world peace."
Penny, "Nope, people still need conflict resolution. I had two inquiries but they
balked at the price, I’m not doing cut rates. When can you take a ride over?"
"Hour good?"
"I'll be here."
Penny calls it conflict resolution. In a perverse way, it is. One party can't agree
with another party, Katya shows up, conflict resolved. Not everyone is happy with
the resolution, but the unhappy party doesn't complain.
Katya's having tea with Penny, "Orthodontist in West Covina, that's this side of
Los Angeles. He was convicted of playing with his pre and adolescent girl patients
while they were sedated. I looked it up, the arrest was near four years ago. He
spent twelve months in jail, out on probation, sex offender registry, the usual. Our
client is a parent, paid ten grand for orthodontics and had his twelve year old
molested in the bargain. I didn't know braces cost that much, I looked that up too,
she must have had the expensive non-metal ones, plus it's California."
Katya, "Photo of house, dentist, even his car. What's he do now?"
"Naturally he lost his license, he still does teeth, makes specialty caps and veneers
out of a small lab in Covina. He wasn't convicted in Covina, the events took place
in Ventura, maybe seventy miles north. He relocated south when he got released."
Katya, "Any time frame?"
"Only ours, sooner he's dead, sooner we get the second half."
Katya scoots her scooter back to the house, covers the details.
"Fly in, rent a car, resolve conflict, fly home. Or we can maybe go to Santa Monica
for a couple of days."
Ellen, "Can we go back to Shutters? Katya gets really horny in those suites."
Katja, "Make reservation, we will rent car, execute contract, go to Shutters."
Ellen, "How long?"
Katya, "Two nights, maybe fly in early enough to fix problem first, then to hotel."
 89

Thirty One

Arrive nine thirty, Burbank airport is closer to West Covina than LAX. Rent a car,
outside the lab at quarter to eleven. He has two employees, one is part time, there
are two cars in the small lot adjoining the building.
Ellen, "We gonna kill the helper?"
Katya, "Nyet. Maybe she goes to lunch, or he does. We will see."
At quarter to twelve, the door opens, a woman comes out and walks to one car. She
fiddles with her hair, dabs on lipstick, finally pulls away.
Katja says to no one in particular, “Women never get in car and drive, or arrive and
just get out. Always to fiddle with face, leepstick, hair, find phone, check for
messages, put phone away.”
Ellen giggles, “It’s true, I do that stuff, you guys just get in and go, get there and
get out.”
It's a simple box building, the lab is the only tenant. Deliveries are usually
impressions from the dentist, the lab uses them to make the veneer or crown, the
finished product is delivered to the dentist. Those and supplies are the only visitors,
the lab doesn't need a waiting room or even an office. Business is okay, some
dentists have moved to in-office crowns. Take digital measurements of the stump,
go to a computer, a machine makes the crown, like a 3D printer. Patients like it, no
temp crown, in and out the same day. But there's still a market for outside
reconstructive work, the sex offender can make a decent living. Nobody searches
the registry for the guy who made their replacement teeth, they don’t even know
who he is.
Katya, "Let's go. Katja, stick with the car, we will be quick."
Katya and Ellen go inside. A man is hunched over a table, back to them. It's a
simple long counter, four stools, the equipment to make both composite and
porcelain teeth. There's a row of impressions labeled with the name of the dentist
and a patient name and number. He didn't hear them come in.
Katya knocks on the wall, he turns and looks towards them, "Sorry, didn't hear
you, can I help you?"
They need a look at him, be troublesome to shoot the wrong guy.
Ellen and Katya trade glances, simultaneous soft pops he doesn't have time to
register. Two holes, one in his forehead, the other took an eye, then the rest of his
brain. Katya does a quick check, he's carrying a bit under five hundred dollars, she
pockets that, Ellen checks the rear door, it's locked, they lock the front on the way
out.
Latex gloves and cheap wigs disappear in storm drains, Katya decided keeping the
 90

guns wasn't that risky. Dismantle them to ship via UPS. They box up the guns, then
UPS boxes the box, they only ask about liquids, batteries, caustic materials,
ammunition and inflammables. Ship to their private mailbox in Houston. They can
buy extra ammunition at any Wal-Mart. America is an assassin’s dreamland.
The arsenal at home has fifty or sixty handguns, a dozen rifles and six shotguns.
Katya figures if they rotate them around, any one gun might get used for conflict
resolution once every four or five years. The odds of connecting a bullet in LA to a
gun in Houston aren’t worth calculating.
Check into Shutters, Ellen, "Sweet suite, man you gotta love this place."
Katja, "We will go to haf wine or cocktail, ees two already. Skip lunch maybe."
Ellen, "Let's go to James Beach for dinner, that place was good."
Hang the Do Not Disturb, they go to the Living Room, which is open to the ocean
casual, tables and couches. A bottle of white, plate of cheeses and salami to nibble.
Ellen, "This is perfect. Breeze off the ocean, just edge of tart wine, the cheese is
super, what is it again?"
Katya, "That one is pecorino toscano, tastes peppery."
"Sure does, got a kick to it too."
"The other is cheddar, sweet, like butter."
Katja is cutting a chunk of salami, adds it to one of the bread rolls, then a slice of
the pecorino, a mini sandwich.
Ellen, "That looks good," she makes one for Katya, then herself, "bread's warm,
yum."
While away an hour sipping wine, finish off cheese and salami, Katja says, "We
are up today early, we will go to room and sister can make sex wiz us and a nap
before cocktail time."
Ellen giggles, "Katya, Katja seems to have a request."
"Sister is only saying what I am thinking."
Ellen, "You two would never have to talk 'cept for me bein' around."
"Katja would talk to herself anyway, just as well you are there to hear it."
"I've learned when she's talking to me or to herself, well, mostly. Sometimes I
answer, or ask a question. She has to stop and figure out why I'm babbling."
"She doesn't realize she's talking to herself, like when other people self talk, but
they don't have it out loud, it's just thoughts, sometimes they are like Katja,
verbalizing out loud."
Ellen, "What? She's talkin' but she don't know she's talkin'?"
"No."
Ellen, "I've heard her a lot, never occurred to me she didn't hear it too. That
explains why she looks at me strange, she must think I'm reading her mind like you
do."
 91

Katja, "Nyet. I know when you say something that I am saying my thoughts. I haf
to remember what I was thinking, or your answer doesn't make sense. Like if I say
to myself, 'We are out of vodka almost.' Then you say, 'I will get some at the store
later,' I wonder what you are telling me, then realize I must have said something."
"We finished everything, wine bottle's empty, how 'bout we get to the girl
playground?"
And they do, start in the sitting area, wind up in bed, delicious intimacy followed
by delicious nap. When Ellen wakes, only Katja is there, she gets up, Katya's in the
balcony with a cup of black tea. She leans over and kisses the soft cheek.
"That was refreshing, slept just long enough so's I don't feel spacey."
Katya runs he her hand along Ellen's backside, then down her leg, "Perfect body."
Ellen, "Awww, thanks, don't got much in the boob department."
"Enough, sisters are not big either, better. I never understand fascination with big
breast, floppy bag of fat and fiber to stuff into bra."
Ellen, "It's a guy thing, which don't mean nuthin' to us. Our little apples don't need
to be strapped up in bras, that right there is reason enough not to want big tits."
"We do not even own bra."
Ellen takes Katya's empty cup, "Want more?"
"Nyet, enough, I will get sister, time now for vodka."
Katja comes along yawning, "Tea first."
Ellen makes her a cup, steep for five minutes, no sugar, no milk, "Here you go
sweetie," leans in, kisses her forehead, "sooo cute, my adorable bookends."
She pours chilled vodka in shot glasses, hands one to Katya, " k krasote," (to
beauty), Katya raises her glass, " k krasote," they shoot the shot.
Ellen, "Damn, I must be turnin' Russian."
Katja, "Maybe, tall girl, beautiful like famous Russian model."
"Ya think I could be in a magazine, or walk a runway?"
Katja, "Da, but no time for magazine runaway, you are for taking care of us."
"Best job, plus I get to shoot people, how fuckin’ awesome is that?"

Thirty Two

Ellen, "This college thing isn’t working, I'm not goin' back after Christmas."
Halfway through freshman year, sort of, she was only part time. Good with
conversational Russian and getting better in Japanese. She's persistent, tries on
phrases with the twins all the time. She stumbles less, and the girls are eternally
patient with her. The twins are unflappable, partly their innate temperament, the
rest from their early years living in vacant houses and doggedly educating
themselves in libraries and wifi hotspots.
 92

Ellen looks at her girls, they stare, blank as gray sky, she giggles, "Guess if I'm
waiting for an argument hell will freeze over."
Katya, "We never go to any school in America, you do not want to go, do not go.
Not our business."
Ellen, "I’m makin' money with you guys, not likely to need a BA for a career in,
what's she call it?...conflict resolution."
Katja, "You haf more to learn in languages. You are good cook, maybe go and
learn more cooking."
Ellen brightens, "Hey, that's a cool idea. I gotta look up one of them schools, must
be something in Houston."
Ellen signs up at Culinary Institute LeNotre for the Elite Diplôme de Cuisine, a
course for beginners that covers a huge variety of topics and techniques. She's near
giddy with anticipation.
"I'm gonna make you guys the best stuff, this is gonna be so great. Katja, you put
the idea in my head, thank you."
"Better first to see eef you enjoy. You are right, I look at website, they haf good
credential, people were nice when you sign up. If you are into it, we will expand
keechen and get best equipment. Program ees one year, after six month, we will
see."
"What if there's work, and I got class?"
Katya, "You will go to class. You are learning to cook for yourself and for us. We
can handle work."
Ellen, "I live in a dream, all causa you two."
Katja, "Always seetiment girl. We are happy for you to be with us Ellen. You haf
done your part always, never one complaint. No argue, no secret, reliable. Now
just only go to learn cooking. You still haf to take care of house. We haf business
to run."
"I'm not gonna miss a trick, I got my cleanin' routines down."
"And maybe we will order out more for a while. Ees okay, we can try lots of
places. You will not go to classes and cook then come home and cook. Anyway,
every store haf prepared food, just heat up."
Ellen, "Class starts day after tomorrow. I'll make us fried catfish, baked beans and
mac and cheese tomorrow night."
"What ees tonight? No, we will go out, have fun Mexican dinner, celebrate wiz
frozen tequila cocktail, come home and fuck you wiz strapping on."
Ellen laughs into her hand, she's so adorably hot Katya wonders if she can wait that
long, decides to exercise restraint and settles for a long kiss.
Ellen, "Preliminaries for the main bout later, ya'll hungry, lemme look up some
spots," she clicks around on her phone.
 93

"Hugo's is top rated, but the menu looks fancy, maybe we'll try it for brunch or
something. Here's one, Pico's Mex-Mex, lotsa variety, upscale dishes plus more
traditional, can we try that one?"
Hour and a half, two frozen margaritas each and an empty plate of nachos, Katya
says, "Good spot, everything fresh."
Entrees come with cold Dos Equis, broiled sea bass in a seafood broth with
acelgas, which is chard, a leafy green vegetable, mussels, clams and shrimp. A
second order of roasted pulled pork and chicken stacked between fresh corn
tortillas with melted cheese, tomato chipotle sauce. After nachos, two entrees are
plenty.
Katja, "Ees good, I am still in tequila mood, a shot and another beer."
Katya is tapping her phone, "They serve Jimador, which switched most of the line
to less than a hundred percent agave. They have one, añejo, we will have that one."
Ellen is getting giggly, "What a world, find out about tequila on a phone while
sitting in a Mexican restaurant."
Skip dessert, time to go, Ellen isn't too plastered, but she isn't driving either. Katja
takes the wheel, navigates home without incident.
In bed, in nothing, Ellen is servicing Katya, switches to Katja, then the twins
alternate screwing her silly with her favorite vibrating latex pals.
Ellen, "God I love to fuck, I can take another go."
Katya spins her over, pushes knees under and takes Ellen anally, Ellen's head
between Katja's tight thighs, licking the luscious. She and Katja simulmax, the
strap-on disengages and hits the floor, girls wrap each other up and catch their
breath.
Ellen, "Now that's how to get fucked!"
She climbs out of bed, takes the toys for cleaning. After everyone refreshes, they
pile into Ellen's bed together, cuddle snuggle and drift off.
Sunday morning, "I gotta find fresh fish for tonight, I got the rest here already,"
she's stacking scrambled eggs with cream cheese on the twins’ plates, buttery grits
and multigrain toast.
"After our dinner, I didn't go crazy for breakfast, is it enough?"
Katja, "Da, plenty, eat, I will go to find feesh wiz you. Sister ees to make quick
pass of shops, everyone home for working out, we will skip lunch. Light fighting
only, you haf first class tomorrow, can not go in beat up."
By one, they're all back home, in sweats, the big boxing gloves, headgear. They
alternate three minute rounds, break for a couple in between. The point isn't to
learn boxing strategy. Rather to learn to get hit, keep going, build quick reflexes
and stay in shape. Running, rowing or cycling is one thing. Taking punches, trying
to avoid getting smashed while delivering punishment is different. Like shooting
 94

paper targets versus shooting while someone shoots back.

Katja is the toughest, but not by much. Katya took her share of maternal
punishment as a child, until Katja fooled her mother into thinking she was Katya,
then she got it. For all Ellen's mother's faults, she wasn't physically abusive. Ellen
has the least experience in getting hit. She learns tough by taking punishment. It's
interesting to the twins, Ellen hangs in, to and past the point of masochistic, it
pains and excites her.
In the final round, Katja clocks her and knocks her down, nearly out. She has to sit,
leaning against Katya until the fog clears. Katja brings an icy towel, wipes her face
and hangs it around her neck.
Ellen, "That was great, Katja's got a left hook like a welterweight, fast and hard,
almost took my damn head off."
Katja, "You are tough girl, we kick ribs, stomach, we will be sore. Lay down, we
haf to ice up or you will haf hard first day at cooking class."
Katja goes off, returns with wet hand towels wrapping up ice, bottle of aspirin and
cold water.
"We need to get frozen bag. I will find tomorrow," she puts an icy towel on her
cheek, "sister bash my nose good, ees no broken, maybe swell."
Katya stands and pull off her shirt, her ribcage is bruised, not black, but dark,
"From Ellen's foot, she has a good kick, I need ice for this one," she goes off for
another towel full, brings back a big bowl of ice.
“Good thing we have a separate ice maker, what the refrigerator makes would be
gone.”
Ellen, "I musta kicked the heavy bag a thousand times, that roundhouse thing we
worked on, plus the sidekick, I can really get the bag dancing with that one."
Katja, "Best kick for breaking knee or ankle, eef man haf weight on foot, ankle can
snap wiz only six pounds of pressure. Side keek wiz heel ees much more. Better to
just shoot, but we do not carry always gun, only for conflicting resolute."
Katya, "Conflict resolution sister."
Ellen, "I kinda like her cute way of saying it," she kisses Katja, then Katya, an
equal opportunity kisser.
They add fresh ice as it melts, lay still until all the parts are suitably frozen, pass
around the aspirin bottle. In just under an hour, starting to feel mobile.
Katja, "Move to couch, we will watch TV until time for cocktail."
After vodka, Ellen delivers on fried catfish, baked beans and mac and cheese,
frozen mugs of Sapporo accompany. Comfortably full and nicely swizzled, the
wander off to bedrooms. The twins have to be up early, Ellen has her first day of
cooking school.
 95

Thirty Three

The twins get home at four, Ellen's already there.

"Classes only run four hours or so. This isn't going to suck up as much of my day
as I thought. I can still make dinner."
Katya, "As you wish, but we are fine with takeout until classes are done."
Ellen, "I'll mix it up. Can we go to the range this weekend? I need more rifle time."
Katja, "Da, sisters also, you are better wiz rifle than us. We will go Sunday, bring
something seemple for lunch, work on rifle range. Class ees good?"
"Yeah! The people have some experience, but it's all over the lot. Most of 'em
seem to want to get jobs as chefs. There's a couple like me who just want to do
more interesting stuff at home."
Katja, "You don't anyway want to open restaurant?"
"Not even a little. I love cooking for us. The hassle of managing people, ordering
food in volume, long, long days. I'm glad somebody likes to do it, it ain't, isn't, me.
I gotta learn to talk better, you guys have to straighten me out when I get too
country, okay?"
Katya, "You will read to us before cocktail time, then we can speak only Russian
until after dinner."
"Whatcha...what do you want me to read?"
Katya, "Does not matter, as long as it is proper English. Maybe New York Times
newspaper online. Pick a story and read it to us. Speak slowly, make good
enunciation, which means say it correctly."
Ellen reads two articles from the Arts section, about a play, another about a new
book. Then a couple of opinion columns.
"Sure have a lot of opinions."
Katya, "We do not care about opinion, just for you to practice how to say things."
Ellen, "I do okay?"
Katya, "Okay, still draw out words, but this is your first time for reading out loud.
In two or three months, you will have almost no accent. I have a different accent
than American girl, we still put adverbs different place in sentence than native
English speaker."
"I really gotta...got to...no, that isn't right either, need to get rid of my ain'ts and,
what do they call 'em, them?...double negatives, like 'not no way' or 'I shouldn't
never,' sounds dumb."
Katja, "When you read, record yourself on phone, then play back later. Eef you
leesten to your own voice, it will maybe help."
Ellen, "That is a good idea, okay, tomorrow I start. Remember, help me, don't let
my country tongue slide by."
 96

Katja, "Country tongue can slide on sisters later."

Ellen giggles, "I got you covered sweet thing."
The weeks slide by, business is good, the sugar bread business, there hasn't been a
call for conflict resolution. Regular Sunday runs to the gun range result in excellent
accuracy at distance, between a hundred and two hundred yards. Considering the
caliber of the rifles, that's about as far as they can rely on to hit a target where they
want to hit a target. They don't need to become snipers, haven't ever used the rifles
for executions. Their best skills are with handguns. All three can stick fast moving
targets up to fifty yards. Then, on a practice home burglary, they come away with
two Remington twelve gauge shotguns and a whole case of shells.
Katya reads up on the guns, then discovers skeet, trap and sporting clays. In trap,
the clay is launched away from the shooter, skeet clays cross in front of the
shooter, sporting clays are launched from a variety of different spots. They buy and
set up automatic throwers, which they can adjust to fire in any direction, side to
side or out and away at a variety of angles. The skill required for consistency is
high, and the girls run through shells like candy corn. They go from the occasional
hit, to regular hits, to more often than not.
Ellen, "This is the most shooting fun. Now, I think we move to picking off clays
with pistols, think you can do it?"
Katya, "We start close, cut down the throwing speed, then increase distance and
speed as we learn. We can use small gun, twenty two, light, ammunition is cheap."
Katya adjusts the throwing machine to send the clays out sideways, that is, not like
a Frisbee parallel to the ground, rather perpendicular to the ground. It works fine,
the clays fire out high, they get a few shots to hit a fatter target.
Ellen, "Dang, this is tougher than it looks. We do okay close range, but get out
twenty five, thirty yards, it's more misses than hits."
Katja, "We need only more practice. Time to go now, drive back, clean gun, will
be already time for cocktail vodka."
"Geez, you're right, where'd the day go? Already three."
They get the shooting range squared away, lock up the house, drive to Houston and
home. Have to clean two shotguns and three small automatics, Ruger 22/45
Rimfires. They look like forty fives, but use .22 long rifles, a common and
relatively inexpensive cartridge.
It's six thirty when they finish and load the weapons in the gun safe, by the time
they shower and regroup, it's seven.
Ellen pours drinks, "Looks like a takeout night, what are we in the mood for?"
Katya, "The Chinese place is close."
Ellen calls, they get the same thing every time, Szechuan chicken and garlic shrimp
with Chinese vegetables, won ton and hot and sour soup.
 97

While Ellen and Katja fetch, Katya reviews receipts from the shops on her laptop,
all the day’s sales are posted as they happen, then summed. Katya can tell what
each shop did, by product, what was left over, and the net profit for the day.
Anything that doesn't move is taken off the shop's daily offerings. Neighborhoods
vary, some of the Mexican breads sell well in two stores but hardly at all in the
other two. Katya has the system automated, the bakers come in at three, there is an
exact list of what's to be made and how many pieces. There’s enough historical
data to predict what stores will sell what on any given day. It varies predictably by
day of week. Big business on Saturday and Sunday, drop on Monday, builds each
day to Friday. She knows what moves at what time of day, early morning, then the
school kids come around, the lunch crowd looking for filled croissants and
sandwiches, a lull, then the school kids near closing. The retired crowd is
predictable throughout the day, morning guys and afternoon guys.
They return with containers of tasty oriental, Ellen ladles out the soups, she likes
won ton, the twins hot and sour. She pours white wine, entrees warm in the oven.
Katja spears a won ton from Ellen's soup, she likes the chewy meat filled
dumpling, "Ees good zoup. Hot and sour must be just thick, not thin, but not too
much cornstarch. They add more vegetable as well. Next time, we will haf cooked
shreemp and add to zoup."
Ellen, "That's a good idea, hot and sour shrimp soup. I learned how to boil shrimp
from my granny. This weekend, I'm gonna, going to, make us spicy jumbo boiled
shrimp with corn on the cob and whole onion. Fresh French bread and gobs of
butter."
Katja, "You never make before."
"Never thought of it until you brought up adding shrimp to the soup. The trick to
shrimp is not to boil them too long. Get the water hot, add spices, add the shrimp.
Five minutes after they start boiling, turn off the heat, cover and soak a half hour.
I'll make up a tangy ketchup sauce, we'll have beer, got to have cold beer with
boiled shrimp."
Katya pulls vodka from the freezer, pour three large shots, leaves one for Ellen.
She and Katja move to the couch, strip, sip vodka and cuddle.
Ellen comes along, "Who's first? Katya...spread 'em sweetie, I got things I need to
do and I’m doin’ them to you."

Thirty Four

Katya, "Penny has job for us, one hundred."

Ellen, "You're makin' her good money, gettin' half and all."
Katya, "She has risk, talk to client, collect money. If client doesn't pay second half,
 98

she has to pay us anyway."

"Has anyone not paid before?"
Katja, "Nyet, but the deal is, we get paid half of total, she ees collection. Eef some
person tries to cheat, we would find and collect."
Ellen, "Depending on if she even knows who it is."
"We could find out. It will be somebody the target knows."
"Like you say, it's revenge or money, just find out who's gonna feel better after the
conflict is resolved."
Katja, "Da, yes, better eef they just pay. They make deal, they live with deal, or we
will make them pay. Deal wiz Penny ees, if we haf to collect, we keep all."
Ellen, "Where's the work?"
Katya, "Miami Florida. Target is a drug dealer. Penny says job came from gang
who hired me to kill cop in San Antonio. They have connections in Florida, those
connections are looking to get rid of competition. San Antonio tells Florida they
can get competitor dead without complications."
Ellen, "Drug lords outsourcing hits. Guess it's no different than the military
outsourcing to contractors, when do we leave?"
"Sister and I will handle, you are in cooking school, go to class."
Ellen, "I can miss a coupla days. I don't like you going to off a drug lord on your
own, them guys is...no, those guys are assholes."
Katya, "Let's do it this way. Katja and I go to Miami, look it over. If we can do it
easy, we do it, come home. If it looks like a problem, you fly out. We will not do
anything stupid, if we need a third, we wait. We can go Wednesday, check out the
job Thursday and Friday, maybe even resolve conflict. If not, and we need you,
you come out Friday afternoon."
Ellen, 'Fair enough. Just don't take any chances. This is supposta be simple work.
The target don't...doesn't...know we're coming, we hit 'em and split. Not get into
shootouts with drug gangs."
Katja, "We see, we shoot, no gun battle wiz gang. We are no weedeo game."
Katya, "Ship a rifle, a .308, and two Glocks. Send them to the hotel in Miami.
Three separate boxes, break down the weapons. Pack them in bubble wrap, then in
a sturdy box. Then have UPS box them again. Use three different UPS stores. Ship
with your fake ID, use fake return address, send package to our travel names. Pay
in cash. We will buy ammunition in Miami."
Ellen, "Got it. Don't worry, the guns will be there, maybe before you get to the
hotel."
As Katya created more names, they opened up private mail box accounts. They
have four identities each. Three of the identities have mailboxes. It's not
complicated, they don't use them much, cheap and anonymous when they do.
 99

The target is one Diego Rojas, recently of Colombia, in the States legally via
marriage to an American citizen he met for one day, the day of the wedding. She
collected thirty thousand dollars, he got citizenship. She died tragically a year later,
a fatal hit and run, never found the car or driver. Her anguished husband got a half
million life insurance payout. Diego is now a single American citizen.
He's an unwelcome interloper in Miami's drug trade. With his connections at home,
he has access to quality merchandise, and is distributing that merchandise at cut
rate prices all along I-95. Entrenched gangs see profits sag, business dries up. After
years of territory disputes, lots of dead men and lost profit, they got organized, cut
up the territory and everybody made money. Violent altercations and murder
dropped significantly, when that happened cops left them alone. Until Rojas.
His people are particularly violent, the ISIS of drug gangs. Things have
deteriorated, murders were down, Rojas comes along, the body count rises. Not
just gang members, families of gang members. Law enforcement has to get active
again when the murder stats turn. They don't really care about murdered gang
members or their families, but the numbers make them look bad and the media gets
on their case.
Enter Katya and Katja. They don't care about murdered gang members either, they
care about getting paid.
They survey the scene for two days, Katya calls Penny.
"You need to talk to employer. From my observation, the conflict will not be
resolved with one action. There is a brother and two cousins. I can do the job as
instructed, but the business will continue as before. Or I can take care of the entire
problem."
Penny, "A hundred each?"
"Yes, this is not so simple work. I am going to have to bring in my associate. Once
things begin, the others will find out quickly. If they go into hiding, or get more
security, complications arise. Speak to contact, let me know."
She clicks off, nothing to do but wait.
Penny works quick, calls back in a half hour, "Done. I'll call when the funds clear,
enjoy the town until then."
Katya calls Ellen, "Fly in first available, ship today two more rifles and your
Glock."
The twins spend the rest of the day monitoring movements. The brothers meet
every morning at a warehouse and office, the cover business is Colombian coffee.
Beans in, roasted and packaged, beans out. Three private labels buy the bulk of the
product. Ground level of the warehouse is for the beans, second floor is where
cocaine is cut and delivered to dealers.
Younger brother directs product traffic, the cousins direct the street dealers. Diego
 100

Rojas oversees, also handles the coffee business.

Katya and Katja are across the street in a van with dark tinted windows. Trucks
move all day, some of it coffee.
Katya, "They can move cocaine in coffee truck, but which truck? Doesn't matter,
we do not care where drugs go, we want to know where they count the money."
Katja, "Delivery bays and office door are een front, we already know back ees just
stairway exit from second floor and one door exit on ground floor. Maybe drug
money goes that way. I will find a place to watch. Maybe something happens."
She exits the van, down the block, then behind the building to the next warehouse.
This one appears to be vacant, no lights inside, leaves and trash piled up against the
bays, they haven't been open in a while. Finds a decent vantage point and waits.
Katya, "Nothing on this side, trucks are gone, they closed the door on the delivery
bays, business is over for today."
Katja, "Fancy SUV just came, Cadillac Escalade. He ees by downstairs. Two men
come from second floor wiz bag, two beeg ones, you see?"
Katya can see what Katja sees, the men are talking to the driver and passenger.
Four bags on the ground, the Escalade drives off, the two take the duffel bags
upstairs.
Katya, "They make swap, drug for money, what else ees reason for secret swap
behind building? I will come for you, we follow Escalade."
Katja gets in, "They turned one block, left."
Katya pulls onto the street, the taillights of the big SUV are just visible, it takes a
right, Katya guns the van. They follow the Escalade to the expressway, then to
South Beach. Down an alley alongside a nightclub. Nothing is happening, it's only
six thirty. They watch the SUV stop halfway down the alley, a door opens, the
satchels are transferred. The Escalade pulls off, the side door of the club closes.
"Drop off drugs."
Katja, "Club must be distribution place."
"Cocaine is a more upscale business, not like crack or heroin. Anyway, we are not
interested in distribution, only curious. I want to know about the money. This is not
a small operation, if it was, the people who hired us would stomp it out or just
ignore it. Someplace, they are counting money, lots of it. If we are killing brothers
and two cousin, we might be able to get some of it."
Katja, "Da, okay. So, ees the money on second floor of warehouse?"
"They took bags upstairs. If the bags have cash, it has to be sorted and counted, not
just hundreds, all kinds of bills. Then they have to move it someplace safe. We
want to see where they take the cash."
Katja, "Lots of surveillance."
 101

"Ellen comes tonight, we have three to watch. We will get three cars, one of us will
find the money."

Thirty Five

Ellen arrives at nine fifteen, she rents a car and makes the Hampton by ten thirty.
"Guns will be here before ten tomorrow. What do we know so far?"
Katya fills her in.
"Sweet. We get paid two hundred our end and maybe sweep some cash off the
table too. We could make a very nice living settling drug scores."
Katja, "Da, and nobody cares who got killed."
Ellen yawns, time for bed, going to be a few long days.
In the morning Katya takes the first shift, watching the back stairway. Ellen is in
another car, Katja a third. Katja roams around while Ellen keeps an eye on the
working side. They keep in regular text contact, every fifteen minutes. Katja and
Katya can mental, but Ellen can't, they need to know she's safe. The place has
guards, guys hanging around that aren't loading or unloading coffee.
Katya texts, 'Move cars, do not sit in one spot. Men are on the roof, they make it
look like a smoke break, but they are not casual, they walk the perimeter.'
Ellen replies, 'Katja and I are changing every twenty, won’t fool them for long, it's
the same two cars.'
'Disappear, we don't need to watch the front. Katja, take the back, but not from
your car, park it out of sight.'
Katja ditches her car and finds a convenient tree to lean against. From her vantage
point, she can see the back of the warehouse about halfway up. Which means guys
on the roof can't see her
Katya and Ellen are two blocks away, hanging in Katya's car, Katja mentals her
sister, "SUV, Tahoe, black, ees arrive. Men come down with bags. Wait....they are
up and down with many bags, this ees money transfer. I will follow this car."
Katya, "I am bringing Ellen, better with two. I will stay and watch warehouse."
Ellen and Katja are following the Tahoe north, away from Miami, up I-95, then off
the interstate. They travel on a four lane for a few miles, turn off on two lane
asphalt for a mile. Katja backs off when they turn, better to wait, make sure they
don't see a car following. If they're transporting a lot of drug cash, they're going to
be paranoid.
"Ellen, take a look, see eef car ees gone."
She walks to the turn, looks down the street, back to the car, "Nothing."
Katja makes the turn, they creep down the road looking for the Tahoe.
Ellen, "There, down that drive, that's them. Creepy, nothing out here but that house
 102

and its big ass gate. There's a delivery truck and, one, two, three other cars."
Two men appear at the door, walk to the Tahoe, take two bags each and back to the
house.
Katja, "This is where they sort and count. Truck ees for bringing sorting people.
Probably illegals, peek up someplace, bring here. From inside truck, they haf no
idea where they are taken"
Ellen, "That's pretty slick, can't go to the law, and if they do they can't tell them
much. But hell, they got so much cash they gotta bring in extra people to count it?"
"Must be, we will find out later. Let's go, we know where money ees. First we
must fulfill contract, then we can maybe steal drug gang money."
They return to the hotel, Katya comes along a few minutes later, "Nothing more at
the warehouse. Now we will make a plan, where is simplest to get to targets?"
Ellen, "That warehouse is loaded with guards. Do we know where they live? Do
they live together?"
Katya, "We were given an address for Rojas."
They take one car, this is a surveillance trip. They go armed, maybe luck falls in
their laps and they get a shot tonight.
Ellen, "Jaysus, that's a big goddamn place, looks exactly like a movie drug lord's
house."
Katja, "Maybe get idea from watching moovey, beeg house, fahncy rug, sweeming
pool, girl wiz thong bikini, fat ass beeg teets."
Katya is peering through binoculars, "Cannot see back from here, two cars in drive,
four car garage but doors are down. Anyway, house is too big for one person, even
with big butt girls."
Katja, "Drive around and see what ees behind house."
The next house is at least a thousand feet down the street, they take a left at the
corner, another left, pull in front of a house that would more or less line up with the
Rojas place. These homes are spaced for privacy, iron fences separate property
lines, huge rows of thick hedges line the fences. From the backyard of one house,
you can't see the house behind.
Katya looks around, "Nobody home."
Katja, "Fence ees no a problem, but house will haf alarm system for sure."
Ellen, "We gonna break into this place?"
Katya, "That would be ideal, maybe can see some of Rojas place from second
floor, or roof even. But if we trip alarm, we make a problem, shut off breaker will
not help, a place like this is going to have a backup for power failure. But we can
get to Rojas property from this property. And since nobody is here, we need to take
a look now."
Katja, "I will go, you can see what I see, Ellen stays wiz you. Park someplace else
 103

for now, someplace quiet. Geev me binocular."

Katja's out of the car and scaling the iron fence, up like a monkey, holding onto the
rails, using her feet to support, one arm up, foot up, next arm up, foot follows.
She's on top, over, drops the ten feet to the ground.
Ellen, "Her gymnastics came in handy, she zipped right up and over."
On the way past the house, she peers into windows, there's furniture, not that
much, what's there is dust draped. There are no pictures on the walls. She moves
on. The other fence is harder to scale, hedges have grown to and through. She has
to use the branches for support and some give way while others hold her weight.
Eventually she drops down to the Rojas side, crawls to the near the edge of the
bushes. Binoculars zero in, she can see the pool, half a dozen guys, and, just like
the movies, girls in thongs, no tops to cover the double d's, spike heels. Platters of
something being passed around by the bimbos, cigars, big jewelry. Diego Rojas is
the fat one, brother Jaime is younger, stocky, but not as. They're in loud sports
shirts and shorts, sandals. The two cousins, also brothers, are slim, slicked back
hair, dressed less flamboyantly. Dark suits, fresh white shirts, no tie. They look
mid twenties, and they look dangerous.
Katja retraces her route, they head to the hotel.
Katya, "House is empty, good for us."
Ellen, "Wonder what the deal is, no for sale sign."
Katya, "They do not put sign. People who cannot afford call and want to see inside
fancy house. Real estate agent has a wasted trip."
Ellen, "That's stupid. You can see fancy houses on the internet, furnished and all.
Some people have too much time on their hands."
Katja, "We will make more surveillance. They maybe don't haf outside party every
night."
Katya, "We also need to get the bars on the fence bent enough to get through. If we
have to leave in a hurry, I do not want to have to climb fences."
Ellen, "The fences are for decoration and discouragement, if we bring a length of
steel pipe, we can bend one rail enough."
Katja, "And something to make hole in hedges, they are thick and no so seemple to
push through."

Thirty Six

Today is nothing, wait around the hotel. Tonight they're back with brute force
assistance, a six foot length of steel pipe. They have three flash suppressed rifles
with ten round magazines, three silenced Glocks and several ten round clips all
loaded up with jacketed hollow point rounds. You don't want to get shot with one,
 104

the bullet mushrooms on impact and makes a mess of your insides.

Down the side, not obvious from the street, Katja and Katya slide the pipe between
rails and push the long end. The rail groans but gives. Two more spots and it's wide
enough for them to slip through. In back, they clip hedges with pruning shears.
It takes twenty minutes, then there's a hole straight through to the fence. Another
application of leverage, another opening to climb through. They do light trimming
on the Rojas side, but not to the edge facing the house. If they lay prone, they can
sight the Rugers easily. The distance is under a hundred yards. They've practiced
up to three hundred and are deadly efficient at two.
Ellen, "Glad we spent all the time with the rifles, taking them up close would be a
bitch."
Katya, "If we have to go in remember, most people, cops even, are lousy at
shooting someone. Most shots miss, even when they aim right at the chest. We
practice on moving targets, flying targets even. We train to act and react. Do not
think, shoot, thinking is too slow."
They take positions, have no idea if an opportunity will arise. There's no activity
outside, at least no party. No thong girls, but the pool lights are on and the patio is
lit up. Lights come on in the living area, the kitchen is already active. A man is
opening wine, a woman cooking on a big commercial stove. Appear to be a butler
or valet and a cook. The man is holding up champagne glasses, inspecting for
spots, wipes off a couple with a white cloth. He places champagne buckets at the
patio table, unopened bottles covered in ice. Four glasses on the patio table...well,
well.
The girls spend time peering through the sights, they could hit the champagne
glasses from this range. It’s Miami, humid, there’s a breeze, not enough to affect
the shot. The rifles are equipped with scopes that determine distance to target,
adjust for drop and wind direction. The sites are zeroed at one hundred yards. From
this distance there’s nothing to adjust.
Two men appear that aren't targets, Katya says, "Visitors."
Ellen, "We gonna kill everyone?"
"Not unless we have to. We wait."
Drinks are served, champagne opened, Diego and Jaime are entertaining two
whoevers, white guys about forty and fifty. The cousins, in tailored black suits
with suspicious lumps under their arms are neither drinking nor eating. Silent
shadows stand and watch.
Katya, "Cousins are bodyguards, not bosses. Rojas is boss, brother is under boss.
Cousins are second level, insulation between bothers and the rest of operation.
White guys maybe buy coffee beans, customer of legitimate business."
Dinner is served, eaten, dishes cleared, there is a cake, cut and served by Diego.
 105

The butler appears, asks Diego something, his hand waves, he's being dismissed
for the evening.
Katya, "Serving man and cook are gone, now only four targets and two guests.
Strange, guests still here, why is the help dismissed?"
Three assassins are looking through three scopes, they see Jaime pour Cognac into
four snifters, swirl, sniff the brandy, a toast, they all sip. Cigars are lit, the two
guests, Jamie and Diego settle into the patio chairs. One of them says something,
they all laugh.
Distracted, the two visitors fail to register two cousins directly behind them. The
girls watch while garrotes drop around necks and pulled tight. Snifters crash on the
deck, cigar drops from the mouth of one and lands in his lap.
Katya, "When the two are dead, Ellen takes the cousins, I'll take Diego, Katja
Jaime."
The garrotes loosen, three pops that sound like one, then another. So sudden the
four men have holes in their heads and blank nothing in their eyes. They collapse
together, Diego and Jaime slump in the chairs, cousins backwards to the deck..
Katya, "A quick check."
They lift the cash from wallets and money clips. Ellen pulls back the jacket of one
guest, there's a badge, no gun. Same with number two.
Ellen, "Dang, cops, locals. Rojas got brass, killing two detectives."
Katja, "They are dirty cop, or why haf dinner with drug gang boss?"
Ellen, "It sure as hell wasn't about coffee beans."
Katya, "Drag the bodies in the house, lock it up. Maybe buy us a day before
somebody starts looking."
Bodies moved, curtains drawn, they search for money, there's a safe but they have
no skills to crack it. A little cash in one desk, three or four thousand in hundreds.
Katya spots a briefcase on a coffee table, she clicks it open. Money. Packs of
hundreds, close the case and take it. Time to lock up, scoot back to the hedges,
through the fence to the next fence, to their car.
Katja drives, Ellen asks, “How much?”
“Did not count, not a million, much less.”
"We gonna get the money tonight?"
Katya, "We will go and see how well it is guarded. We can't wait long, once bodies
are discovered and word gets out, the money will disappear."
At the counting house. Three cars out front, no van, it's late, midnight. Place is
quiet but there are a few external lights over the front, side and rear entrances.
A flash, someone lights a cigarette at the front door, starts walking to the side. A
few minutes later, same guy comes into view on the other side.
"Ellen, take him from here, then we go in."
 106

Ruger out, he's less than fifty yards, she clicks the sight back down to the zero
set...pop.....guy drops where he's standing.
Katya, "Three entrances, we each take one, shoot anyone who isn't us, no, wait,"
she goes to one of the cars, fiddle with the handle, yanks it hard, alarm goes off.
They move to the three entrances, front door opens, small man with an AK comes
out mumbling, "Fuck, where the fuck is Jorge?"
Focused on the car he walks right past dead Jorge, Katya shoots him in the back of
the head, he falls forward on his AK. She pulls it out from under him, slings it over
her shoulder, enters the house.
The windows are covered with plywood, can't have cash counters daydreaming, or
figuring out where they are. Inside there are lights on, pallets of cash stacked
everywhere, covered in vinyl tarps. A pop from the back of the house, Katya
moves to the kitchen. Ellen is in front of a large fat guy, he has an arm around her
neck and a gun to her head.
"Drop the gun or I shoot the bitch."
Fat Man has grossly overestimated his capability, Katya says in Japanese, "When
the gun moves grab it, push up, smash his foot."
Katya, "That's stupid fat boy, shoot me first, then bitch is no problem."
Fat Man is puzzled, she's telling him to shoot her? The gun moves from Ellen's
head towards Katya. Then his gun is pointed in the air and something has crushed
his left foot. Just as the pain registers, a hole appears in his temple.
Ellen, "Nice work sweetie, fat bastard. I did what we practiced, kept my chin to my
chest, I was just about to take a bite out of his lard ass arm when you showed."
Katja comes in, "I keel two inside, two outside dead, fat boy dead, nobody else to
keel."
"Get the car, we have to load money."
They haul trash bags of cash until the SUV won't hold any more.
Ellen, "Honeys, we got a shitload of bucks, theys all hundreds and we didn't make
a dent."
Katya, "Fill up two of their cars, we will drive ours and theirs to the hotel."
In the Hampton lot, Ellen asks, "What now?"
Katya, "Nothing. Back up cars so plate is not visible. We will take shift and watch
until we can get money boxed and shipped. No…Wal-Mart store is open all night,
we will get boxes now."
Buy boxes, packing tape, find a failed subdivision. Streets are laid, no houses, dark
as death, which suits them. They spend the rest of the night packing wrapped
bundles of hundred dollar bills. Ellen has to make runs to two more Wal-Marts for
boxes. At seven thirty, they're in a McDonalds doing breakfast and killing time.
Ellen, "Did you count?"
 107

Katya, "A million in hundreds weighs twenty two pounds and will fit in a small
microwave oven. We put two million in each box, forty four or forty five pounds,
no problem to ship. When UPS and Fed Ex open, we ship most boxes to mail
drops. Then we rent big SUV, drive home. We need to get out of Miami today."
Ellen, "I was so busy, how many boxes we got?"
"Fifty four."
Ellen, "Fifty what...fifty four boxes with two million each?"
"One box only has a million eight."
"We got a hundred million? Are you jackin' me? No it ain't...isn't...like you to kid
around. Fuck me twice, a hundred goddamn million dollars."
"Plus money we took off the others, plus two hundred for our end of the job."
Ellen is slack jawed, "I got no idea what to say...what the fuck do we do with a
hundred million dollars...in fuckin' cash?"
Katya, "Dribble nine thousand and change into a half dozen bank accounts over
time, pay cash for everything, add cash to the business account deposits for Katya
Donut. Over time, it will go from banks to brokerage account. Big money accounts
there are common. We need a bigger safe at home."
Ellen, "Can Penny find someone to clean the money for us?"
Katya, "Not going to tell her. As soon as we are out of town, I will call DEA and
tip them off to the house. They won't know how much money was taken, nobody
alive has the actual count."
They split up, drive the three cars around to UPS and FedEx, get the boxes
shipped, pay extra to have the boxes put into another box. Their story is contents
are valuable books they don't want dinged up, they insure the shipments for eight
hundred to a thousand dollars each to validate the story. Two boxes means twenty
stops, three girls, six or seven stops each. They keep five boxes to drive home with
them. Even if by some weird circumstance all the boxes are lost, they still have ten
million bucks.
Next stop, ditch the gang cars. They remove and toss license plates, wipe away
prints, leave the cars in a crap neighborhood with the engines running and the
doors unlocked.
Ellen, "Nobody gonna see them damn cars again."
Katya, "Those cars."
Ellen, "Those cars....I'm getting there."
Rent a Platinum Escalade from a different rental company, drop off the SUV they
used for the job. Then it's I-75 North to I-10 West, eleven hundred miles, about
sixteen or seventeen hours of drive time.

Thirty Seven
 108

Ellen, "Can we dip down to New Orleans? Have some good food, screw around in
the French Quarter?"
Katya is fiddling with her phone, "Twelve hours to New Orleans, it's already noon.
Up all night and busy this morning. We will go to Tallahassee, about halfway.
Tonight a simple room, Hampton or Embassy, New Orleans a suite in good hotel."
She surfs for recommendations.
Ellen, "It isn't right in the Quarter, just across Canal Street, I've always heard the
Windsor Court is a great place, five star thing."
Katya doesn't bother with Hampton reservations, they’re like mushrooms, they'll
find one with an available room. She calls the Windsor Court and books two nights
in a club level suite.
"I see hotel website, looks nice, big room, view of city, private club bar, good
restaurant. Harrah's Casino in the same block. We have never been to a casino, we
will see, maybe better to go jazz club. Casino is everywhere and we do not anyway
gamble."
They check in a Hampton, tired, hang the do not disturb, shut the curtains and
crash. Leave in the morning at eight for the six hours to New Orleans.
Arrive at the Windsor Court at two, room is ready, valet makes the Escalade
disappear, they take the small bit of luggage, bellman takes, unknown to him,
boxed up money and packed away guns to the room. If he knew what he was
carting it would make his job more interesting. They'll chance it that the stuff will
be okay, it's a five star hotel, not an off the freeway Hampton. And it's better than
leaving it in a hotel parking garage.
Katya, "Tip the housekeeper ten bucks every day to swap out towels. Then put the
do not disturb on the door when we go out. We do not need sheets changed for two
nights only."
Ellen, "I'll take care of it. Ready? Let's hit the streets."
They walk down Decatur to Jackson Square, buy three beers, walk across to the
Moonwalk, sit and check out the Mississippi rolling by.
Katja, "I am never een city where you can walk down street wiz beer."
Ellen, "You can walk down the street with a large vodka in a plastic cup, it's
perfectly legal."
Katya looks around, "All kinds of people come here."
"Yep, it's a tourist town, basically the whole economy."
Katja reads a sign, "What ees beignet?"
"Like a donut, fried dough with powdered sugar, come on, let's get some."
Even mid-week, the open air coffee shop is packed, there's a short line but they're
seated in ten minutes.  Ellen orders for them.
 109

Katya, "Coffee is good, strong."

"Half coffee and chicory, half boiled milk, what about the beignets?"
Katja, "Hot, really good, such a seemple thing. Should we make at Katya Donut?"
Ellen, "I don't think so. They have a real short shelf life. You really should eat
them fresh out of the fryer. Your donuts are more upscale and it's hard to get
premium prices for beignets."
Katja, "Then we will not haf. We can come to New Orleans and eat fried bread."
French Quarter's a walking place, they go up and down on each street from
Esplanade to Canal, wind up on Bourbon Street. It's still early, six thirty, a
weekday, but the street is already filling with gawkers and partiers.
Ellen, "My granny used to talk about Pat O'Brien's and there it is. Let's see what it's
all about."
There's a small, dark indoor bar to the left, a bigger piano bar to the right, then the
hall opens to the courtyard. Better, outdoors, a pleasant evening, they find an open
table.
Waiter comes over, "What'll it be ladies?"
Ellen, "Three double vodka rocks, dash of bitters in two," too much to hope for
Russian Standard, she settles for Stoli.
He goes off, returns in a minute with the drinks. Ellen hands him fifty, the tab is
thirty six, drinks are generous doubles.
He lays out fourteen, Ellen gives him ten, "Don't be a stranger."
"I'll keep an eye out, enjoy ladies."
Katya is surfing restaurant options on her phone, "Galatoire’s has good ratings, up
Bourbon Street, no reservation."
Ellen, "I've heard about it, been open a million years."
Katja, "We will go, one more round first, nice out tonight, this place ees busy,
relax at the same time."
"Guess it's called the Big Easy for a reason."
Ellen is sensitive to the twins, something with Katya, less serious, a comfortable
vibe she usually only has when they are home on a do nothing Sunday.
Waiter shows up with their drinks, Ellen says, "Last round for us, be getting along
to dinner in a bit."
"Where ya headed?"
"We heard Galatoire's is good."
"Excellent choice, totally reliable. You like fish? Freshest fish in the world, ever
eat turtle soup?"
Ellen, "Nope."
"Get some, let 'em add a shot of sherry. Shrimp Remoulade or crab salad
appetizers. Bread pudding for dessert. You gonna love it."
 110

"Thanks for the suggestions."

He wanders off, they chill into the second cocktail, Katya has the menu up, "Looks
good, also seafood gumbo."
And it is. They try his suggestions plus gumbo, accompanied by a bottle of
champagne. By the time it's dessert, they can only share a single bread pudding.
Katja, "That was best dinner een restaurant ever. You will make seafood gumbo at
home, feesh amandine, remoulade shreemp also."
"I can do that honey, I got dozens of fresh techniques to try out from school, I am
so glad you thought of cooking class. When we get home, I gotta get a whole new
collection of pots and pans, upgrade all the knives. I think we need to put in a
second stove, maybe with a grill. I need more oven space. Kitchen's pretty full now
though, maybe we expand."
Even wonderful dinners have to end, time to go. Girls aren't in the mood for bars or
dance clubs, certainly not strip joints. They return to the hotel. Time for showers,
hair air dries on the balcony with a nightcap. The twins treat Ellen to a double
tongue orgasm, after which they collapse in the big luscious bed.

Thirty Eight

Sleep in, skip breakfast, after coffee for Ellen and black tea for the twins, they head
out at ten.
"What ees trolley car?"
Ellen, "Been a New Orleans thing forever, let's ride it. Doesn't matter where it
goes, we just go to the end and come back."
Climb aboard, pay the fare and down St. Charles Avenue they go.
Ellen, "Nice houses, old time style, Oak trees everywhere. Look, Tulane University
right next to Loyola. Must be fun to go to college in a party town like New
Orleans."
End of the line, they transfer to a returning street car. The route is about forty five
minutes each way, back on Canal by noon.
Ellen, "Gettin' hungry? Or wait for a while?"
"We will walk and see," Katya is studying her phone, "Good restaurant down
Magazine Street, Bon Ton Cafe."
It's busy at lunch time, but they get a table in the corner. The menu is extensive and
primarily seafood.
Katja, "What ees crawfeesh bisque?"
Waitress, "Stuffed crawfish heads in a delicious brown roux, so good it will make
you cry, you gonna love it honey."
"I will haf. Also, what ees soft shell crab?"
 111

"For the crab to get bigger, it has to lose its shell once in a while and grow a new
one. When they catch 'em without the shell, that's called soft shell. We fry up the
whole thing, everybody loves fried soft shell."
"That one too."
Ellen gets turtle soup again, Galatoire's made her a convert, Katya has seafood
gumbo. After the soups, Katja tells the waitress, "Bring also more bisque for sister
and Ellen, ees best ever zoup."
Waitress, "Told you honey."
Ellen, "Ohmygod, this is amazing, gotta be a recipe online, I am so making this at
home."
When entrees arrive, the girls decide they've landed in food heaven. Beside Katja's
soft shell crabs, Ellen has fried oysters, Katya fried speckled trout, they share
tastes.
Ellen, "Good Lord Katja, that crab is another best thing ever."
Waitress checks in, "Did I lie?"
Katja, "Ees best ever with bisque zoup. Everything here ees good."
"Glad you like it baby, good to see girls enjoy their food. How 'bout dessert, bread
pudding is good, butter pecan ice cream too."
Katja, "We will share one bread pudding and one buttery pecan."
Waitress, "You got the cutest accent, and twins too. Where you girls from?"
Katja fudges location, "We leaf een Arizona, sister and I are from Belarus. We are
American now."
"And the knockout?"
"She ees Arizona girl, we all leaf together. On vacation, first ever treep to New
Orleans."
Waitress, "You picked the right spot babys, be right back with dessert."
Bread pudding last night, again for lunch, but it's really good, and they only shared
one. They love good food, they also love slim figures.
Walk, walk, walk the Quarter, stop for coffee at Cafe Envie on Decatur St., then
walk some more. Katya is interested in the old houses that jam the residential area
of the French Quarter.
Ellen, "I read someplace they have courtyards in back, some even have extra space
that used to be slave quarters a long time ago."
Katya, "I will look up at home, see what houses look like inside," she checks her
phone, "all boxes delivered. We will go home in the morning."
Katja doesn't say anything, but she senses a combination of curiosity and
something she almost never sees in her dead serious twin, a flicker of enthusiasm.
The lazy old dysfunctional city has caught Katya's attention.
Back in the suite, long showers followed by drinks and a light room service dinner.
 112

Ellen services twins into a slow series of soft moans, asleep by eleven.
Up and out by eight, drive five hours to Houston. While they have the rental, they
split up. Katya and Ellen take their cars, Katja keeps the Escalade, they round up
the boxes and bring them to the house. Ellen follows her to the rental company,
turn in the Escalade, go home.
Ellen, "Lotta driving, but we have every box, intact, no problems."
Katya, "I ordered safes, deliver over next few days. At least if house burns down,
we will not lose money. Tomorrow, sister and you will open more bank accounts.
Deposit nine thousand every week. I have decided not to open more business.
Licenses, taxes, city sticks nose in. We will accumulate cash in bank accounts in
our name, also in fake names. Anything we can pay cash for, we will. It will take
time, but eventually we will have millions in bank accounts, all clean. Until then,
we already have good credit with two banks for home mortgage, building mortgage
and credit cards."
The safes arrive, Katya decided on three to avoid the obvious. A good safe cracker
might, in time, break into one, but not three. She also has them installed by three
different companies. Two hour fire resistance, digital key code, secure from almost
all types of burglary attacks including power tools and cutting torches. One is in
Ellen's bedroom, it serves as a fabric covered end table, the other two in closets.
They don't use a home alarm, at least not one that goes to any company. If
someone breaks in, alarms screech in the house and they get simultaneous alerts on
their phones, along with video of the interior and exterior. All with a battery
backup, pulling the breaker outside or cutting a cable line doesn't do jack. If they
are all out of town, they can call the police themselves, no different than a common
alarm company would do.
Katya, "One day we will hire private jet, take a few million to Cayman Islands, let
it sit, then wire it back to US banks over time. Remember Ellen, tell no one about
money, even when we have it cleaned up, money is nobody's business."
Ellen, "Got nobody to tell but I get the point, money is an asshole magnet."
The next few weeks are quiet, they don't alter routines, the twins look after the
shops, Ellen goes to sommelier class at LeNôtre. It's basic, but she learns the
fundamentals, then takes LeNôtre Sommelier I, a focus on the wines of Europe
with a study of the professional duties associated with a wine steward. Then
LeNôtre Sommelier II, wines of the new world and the production, service,
and regional styles of other beverage alcohols including cider, beer, sake, sparkling
wine, and a wide range of distilled liquor. 
It isn't for her to make a production of having wine at home, or to become a
sommelier, Ellen is just interested in all things food, including beverages. If a bit of
knowledge can help her select good wines to accompany the dishes she makes, it's
 113

another way to thank the twins. They could have treated her like a hired hand, and
she would have gone with it. But they didn't, they treat her like an equal. While
they don't abuse, they also know Ellen doesn't want equal. She likes to be told, not
asked.
Penny calls.

Thirty Nine

"Ready for an assignment? Good money."

Katya, "Be over in an hour."
Penny fills her in, "An interesting one. A twenty something, rich, handsome with
the slim three day old unshaven look that seems to wet women's panties. A tech
start-up multimillionaire. Not Facebook or Google rich, but rich enough, a little
research says a couple hundred million. Some kind of game kids play on their
phones. Anyway, he likes rough sex, real rough, sadistic. In my former life I came
across these assholes, took more than a few punches and slaps before I could run.
Pimp says he protects us, bullshit. Street whore is on her own. Anyway, that's
blood under the bridge, you got me outta that life."
Katya is waiting, she's learned that people need to tell their stories in their own
time, she's letting Penny's unfold.
"The target got busted for sexual battery once, lawyered up, paid a settlement, the
dust settled and he walked. Then he put an alleged girlfriend in the hospital,
girlfriend as engaged to be married. She claims they were playing and it got out of
control. Cigarette burns on her vagina and bloody lashes down her back and
buttocks say otherwise, but she refused to press charges. Fortunately for her, daddy
isn't letting him off the hook. Since the target is a name, I said two hundred grand,
daddy didn't miss a beat. First hundred arrived yesterday, your fifty is in the
envelope with photos, address, the usual."
Katya, "Any time frame?"
"None specified, sooner he's dead, sooner we get the rest."
Katya leaves, hops on her Vespa and scoots home.
"Ellen, book flight to San Francisco, first available first class, return flight two
days later. Hotel for two nights, Redwood City, rent an SUV. If we have to stay
longer, we can make changes then."
Ellen, "What equipment?"
Katya, "Forget commercial, find a private plane, I read about Blue Sky, fly on four
hours notice. We can take guns broken down in baggage, they do not screen
luggage on a private flight. Take three Glocks, one rifle. Book in fake names. Then
get ID out of the safe."
 114

Ellen fishes around, finds Blue Sky, sets up an account, books for tomorrow at
nine.
"This costs a ton, like ten grand."
Katja is looking over the site with her, "Ellen, we haf millions, we can pay ten
thousand a hundred days a year and ees only one million. Private will be better, no
airport line, and they will arrange car, haf lunch on plane, sister and I want filet
steak."
Ellen, "Yum, me too, " she clicks off then finds hotels, "There's a place that will
work, Sofitel on San Francisco Bay. Big commercial place for corporate meetings,
nice and anonymous. Want a suite?"
"Da."
Next day, four hour flight, gain two in time zones, arrive at three. Tahoe is waiting,
bags in back, on to the hotel.
Katja, "Good peek. Plenty of business person wiz name tag hustling around, suite
ees good, corporate boring."
Ellen giggles, "True, the stuff's nice though, even if it has zero personality."
Katya, "We are not on vacation, personality someplace else. Bar is stocked, time to
work. Let's go see the house and business office. Business office first."
Ellen, "This SUV is cool, bucket seats front and rear, leather everything. I gotta get
one of these suckers."
The target's name is Serge Brin, vaguely Slavic, which won't endear him to the
twins. There is limited parking, buses roam the city at various pickup points and
drop off engineers at the offices. It's a mini campus, nothing like Google or
Facebook, a campus for several tech companies, not just NanoBot.
Katja, "What ees NanoBot?"
Katya, "Made up name. First game was to make tiny robot that infiltrates computer
systems and start to take over from within. They are small, like tiny ants. The bot
crawls electronics and infects them. The object is to save the world from it taking
over all systems, financial, political and military. Game player has to collect
antivirus and other junk to kill off bots."
Ellen, "People spend money for it, on purpose?"
Katya, "And a lot worse. The game got good write up because it teaches computer
technology and coding. Something educational kids would actually play. NanoBot
has other games, not just little ants, but things that teach more extensive coding
and hardware. His business intention is good, his weakness for abuse is getting him
dead."
Ellen, "Do you know why the girl stays with him?"
"A hundred million reasons, some of which went to a Porsche for her. She lives in
the mega mansion, plays tennis when she's not shopping or going to a SPA."
 115

Ellen, "They aren't married yet."

"No, I doubt Brin has any intention of getting married. She's a hot minor pro tennis
player, the ring is for show. If he does marry her, you can be sure there will be a
tightly written prenup. She won't get jack in a divorce."
"What if they have kids?"
"She had a hysterectomy, no kids."
"You sure know a lot about them."
"Most of it was online in gossip rags. I was curious. Does not change anything, we
will kill him, go home. What happens to her is her problem. Maybe new boyfriend
is not as rich, also maybe he does not burn her vagina with cigarette."
"Wait out here, I am going to apply for a job."
Katya goes in the building, receptionist calls HR, a stocky female troglodyte shows
up. Katya reels off popular game codes, C++, html and Java script, Python, says
she can code in all of them. She also claims to have discovered a bug in the
original NanoBot game that allows players to skip levels, but rack up points as if
they had actually played them.
HR Lady has no clue, calls a junior engineer. He comes down, listens to Katya's
story and sneers."
"Not possible."
Katya, "You have game console?"
Of course they have game consoles, it's a game company. He leads HR Lady and
Katya to a cubicle.
"You've played it, so load up and show me."
Katya clicks a few keys, "This is not public version, what you sell to people. This
is stripped down nothing version."
He shrugs, HR Lady apparently outranks him, "Jerry, quit fucking around, she
either knows something we need to know or she doesn't."
He clicks her into the full version, Katya plays a couple of levels, Jerry says, "See,
nothing, this is common intermediate level, she's played it before, but she hasn't
hacked it."
Then Katya is on level six, Jerry shuts up. She stops, shows him the scores of
levels she didn't play. He stares at the screen in the hope he will wake up from his
nightmare."
HR Lady, "Sit down Jerry," she dials a number on her cell, "Morris, we have a
problem, come to two-twenty."
A bearded dweeb shows up, HR Lady says, "Tell your boss what happened Jerry."
Jerry's mouth opens and closes, like a dying fish, Katya shows Morris the problem
in the code, she busted in the back end waiting on Mark to show up.
"Holy fuck. Jerry, you're fired, we'll ship you your shit, check him out Marge.
 116

Come with me please..ummm..."

"Valeria."
"Okay, Valeria, can I get you something, coffee, tea?"
"Red Bull must be a staple around here, the sugar free kind."
He dials a number, a minute later a kid shows up with a can of Red Bull and a
napkin.
"How about a glass for our guest, idiot?"
Katya pops the top, "Not necessary," she chugs the thing and plops the empty in
his trash can.
"Don't mind me, I work with engineers, we call each other names all day."
Katya, "Couldn't give a shit. I can fix the hole in your system. I'm not the only one
who found it, you have a lot of top players who couldn't get past level three
otherwise. Bad for the stock price for this to get out."
"Is this blackmail?"
"Please, am I stupid? If it was blackmail do I show up here? I blackmail you
online. No, only pointing out the obvious. Eventually some hacker is going to short
your stock and release the story. I could have done it myself, I came to you for a
job instead."
"You're hired, hundred thousand to start, options after sixty days."
Katya doesn't plan on collecting checks so she agrees, "Short tour of the facility?"
Mark, "Sure, I got a meeting, can Shelia take you around?"
Katya nods assent, a young hottie appears, it's tech, she's in jeans, a simple peasant
blouse, sneakers.
Sheila, "I've never seen you before, they never hire anyone without a half dozen
interviews, you got pictures of the boss on a compromising position?"
Katya, "Better. Where does boss work?"
"All over, he doesn't have an office, he wanders the floors, eats all his meals in the
cafeteria. He comes in at some ungodly hour and leaves at nine or ten most nights.
He does take Saturday afternoon and Sunday off. That's company policy."
"He come up with that?"
"No, HR, Marge is a drill sergeant, but she runs a clean shop. And she doesn't
allow any macho geek crap directed at women. All the engineers are autistic
assholes, and they give each other a hard time, they leave the admin staff alone. I
used to work at another tech company, a big one. I got every kind of harass there
was and nobody would do anything about it. In Silicon Valley, if you can crank
code, you can kill babies on the side, nobody cares. Marge at least keeps them off
our backs. You're a hot girl, but an engineer. You get the abuse, but not sexual
innuendo. They'll call you dork, idiot, fuckwad, but it's the same stuff they call
each other. They won't hit on you or talk about tight jeans or tits or ask you what
 117

color your panties are."

Katya thinks to herself, 'No matter, I would kill them and they do not anymore
make stupid comment.'
Sheila, "Well, well, here's God himself, hello Serge, meet your newest employee,
Valeria."
Serge wears circular shades, not dark, kind of light gray, "Welcome, I just spoke to
Mark, you may have saved my life. I'm on my way to a meeting about the problem,
got any thoughts?"
Katya (Valeria), "I will fix the bug, do not do anything. Some players exploited the
hole, so you will have a few with great scores they did not earn. But with six
million players, twenty or thirty with fake scores is not going to mean anything.
The main problem, a public announcement and a stock slide, goes away with the
fix. If there is no money to be made, no reason to go public, the leak will look like
it is from some stupid or malicious person."
Serge, "Then let's fix the code, right now."
Katya mentals Katja, "Going to be a while. I have new code already written, but
they will want to test it. I will be out when it is done."
There's a board room with a half dozen engineers, Serge and Morris are the lead
dogs.
Morris, "We have a fuck-up, and Valeria came to us to tell us about it. Valeria, I've
already described the problem, we took a look at the code, but can't find where the
hole is, it could take a while."
Katya, "Maybe five minute."
One of the geeks snorts, "Gotta see that."
There is a machine set up already, reviewing code is an integral part of the work.
The screen is a seventy inch flat screen so everyone can see the lines as they scroll
down.
Katya types in a jumble of letters, numbers and symbols, "What happened is not so
much that your system is bad, but it has open gateways. Someone got to the guts
and entered a few lines that allow for the cheat. It is here..she taps the enter
button."
"It looks like...nothing."
"If I remove it, it will shut down the entire system."
Mark, "Oh shit."
"So I wrote a program to cancel that order and delete the bad code, you may want
to review before I implement."
Serge, "Yeah, we do. Go over what you have and let us digest it please."
She does, it's about forty lines, and it's complicated, but they don't see any obvious
flaws.
 118

"I suggest you announce regular maintenance. The excuse that you want to make
sure players have a seamless experience usually works and will not scare anyone."
Matt, "Put up the normal announcement, give them a half hour, then take it down.
We can put in the new stuff and test it. It's all backed up, if the new code is a
problem, we don't lose anything."
An hour later, Katya walks out of the front entrance and to the waiting car.
Ellen, "Any problems?"
"Nyet, they want for me to go have drinks, I said I have to make arrangement to
move and it will be a week before I can start."
"They haf camera all over, inside too?"
"Yes, I do not care. Tomorrow we swap car, I have temp hair color and glasses,
plain jeans. Video they have is useless."
Ellen, "Serge is going to see you again? Maybe that's good, he knows you, or
thinks he does."
"No matter, he will be dead, you might do it, or Katja, who will not look like the
person he saw today. Drive to his house, we should see if there is a better chance
there."

Forty

The house is a no go. Gates, cameras, solid security system and two Rottweilers.
The only way in would be for Katya to wrangle an invitation and that could take
too long.
Ellen, "Let's go back to the campus, see what happens when he leaves. Then we
pick him up leaving the house in the morning and get a sense of his route to work."
"The girl, Sheila, said he comes early and works late, eats all meals at the cafeteria.
Our best shot is to or from work."
Back to the NanoBot offices, Serge's road rocket is still in its covered spot.
Ellen, "What kind of car is that?"
"Lamborghini LP 700 Roadster, four wheel drive, top speed over two hundred,
zero to sixty in three seconds flat."
Ellen, "Fuck me sideways, what does that monster cost?"
"Four hundred thousand."
"And to think, last year we couldn't dream it, today it's pocket change. What a
world. I'm still getting my SUV."
Katja, "Maybe I will buy, I want to go two hundred."
Ellen, "Where you gonna do that?"
"Anyplace I want, who ees catch me?"
They sip coffee, the clock ticks, then Serge comes and fires up his toy. For all the
 119

car's capability, he's a sensible driver. No screeching exit, goes the speed limit,
uses blinkers.
Ellen, "He must have someplace to go that works the car. It's not built to cruise.
Must be private tracks around to give it exercise."
Serge goes straight home, the big iron gate clicks open, front lights up like a
stadium, he pulls in, garage door opens. There's one side of a Porsche visible, it's a
four car garage, no way to tell if there are four cars in it. The lights go out.
Katya, "Too risky here. Retrace the route. There were stoplights with nobody
around. Three of us, each take a spot. If he stops and it's a clean shoot, problem
solved. After we look, go to hotel, it's late and we have had nothing to eat since
plane."
Ellen, "We gonna follow him in the morning?"
"Da, maybe something falls into lap, or he has a morning routine we can exploit."
They stop for pizza, take it to the room and open beers from the minibar. Been a
long day and they're getting up in six hours, asleep by eleven thirty.
Before dawn cracks, Ellen has coffee and tea ready. Her Russian dolls drink inky
black tea. Ellen likes power coffee with cream.
After they follow Serge to the office, Ellen drives them to the rental company and
swaps for two mid size sedans, unremarkable Buick somethings.
Katya, "Nothing on his way to work, he takes the same route in reverse. It is too
much daylight, better at night. There are four possibilities. Tonight, drop me off at
the third, Ellen takes the first, Katja the second. If Ellen has no chance, she goes to
the forth. If Katja has no shot, maybe I get one. In any case, she picks me up at
number three. If he's dead, we call Ellen and go. If not, he is a lucky man but still
has to get past Ellen."
"They're all stoplights, what if he just gets lucky and catches the green?"
"Then he gets lucky. He cannot get lucky every night...wait...no, if area is quiet but
light is green, shoot tire. He does not speed. Guns are silenced, he will think he got
a flat. When he gets out, take him."
"He's gonna stay in the car and call somebody."
"Even better, shoot him een car."
They hang out all day alternating spots with a view of the campus. Serge's car stays
put.
Ellen is in one car with Katja, she mentals her sister, "Katya, we go for break."
"Da, okay, I am watching."
Ellen drives to, where else? Peet’s. They return with yet more coffee and tea.
"If we go one more time, we will haf backseat covered een cups and wrapping."
Ellen laughs, "This is the first day my breakfast and lunch came from Peet’s. We
went, what, four times so far?"
 120

"Haf to pee someplace, Peet’s ees okay, not Katya Donut, but anyway okay."
"Yeah, think how good one of the sandwiches would have been, overstuffed toasty
croissant with ham and cheese, fat powdered sugar raised, dang."
Katja lets her sister know they're back. They've been listening to a public radio
station all day.
Ellen, "Geez, we're gonna be the best informed people in Silicon Valley, mostly
about the Middle East. Don't those people do anything but kill each other?"
Katja, "Women are property of men. I hope men all keel each other."
"That's a thought. And here comes Serge."
"Katya, Serge ees leaf, we must go."
Katja switches to Katya's car, takes her to spot three, returns to two.
Ellen calls Katja, "No chance, going to four," she clicks off.
Katja is parked next to a dumpster, she can see the road and the light, the
Lamborghini comes into view. She steps out of the car. He's got a green, it jumps
to yellow but he's right at the intersection and continues through.
"On his way to you. I'm coming now."
"Da, okay."
The third opportunity is a light just before an underpass. It's the most dark and
shadowy, the problem is the light doesn't change very often. Katya hears the growl
of the car, the same moment she spots the pedestrian button to cross the street, she
pushes it.
Nothing, nothing, the flash car is a half block away, yellow, then red, the crossing
signal goes to its ten second countdown.
Another car is coming, three blocks, Katya is alongside a stretch of bushes. She
fires three times, Serge has a rather messy and sizeable hole in his head. She turns
and scoots into the shadow of the underpass.
The approaching car makes a left a block down. Katya's Glock is suppressed,
maybe they didn't see the small muzzle flash, and the bushes kept her out of the
line of sight. Katja is across the street, pulls the sedan to the curb, Katya gets in
and they disappear.
Katja calls Ellen, "To the hotel."
Over vodka, Ellen wants to know how it went. Katya recaps, they toast a second
fifty grand payday. It's late, and later in Houston, Katya will call Penny tomorrow.
Ellen, "Last night in the hotel, sex anyone?"
Since Katya completed the contract, she gets double teamed. After a third orgasm,
she drifts off to sleep. Katja decides it's an excellent opportunity to ravish Ellen, a
ravishing ravishee. By midnight, the death girls are snuggled, happy dreams of
assassinations yet to come.
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Forty One

One might reasonably wonder, why continue to take the risks if you have a
hundred million dollars? They no longer need money, which is why the twins got
started. A ball player with millions in the bank doesn't need to suit up anymore, no
broken bones, no shoulder or knee surgery, no concussions, no snoop reporters
poking around their personal life. They keep going for the challenge, maybe set a
record, and of course the glory. Our girls don't continue for any of those reasons.
They continue because they like it, and because they like it, they’re good at it.
Why not just randomly murder people?
Too easy. Like a pro running back playing for a high school team. No
accomplishment in those touchdowns. The girls are killers, but they are
professional killers. You’re a professional when someone pays you. It's no more
complicated than that, do you get money for your services? You can be a
professional janitor, or Circle K clerk, doctor, politician, or assassin.
Blue Sky lifts off promptly at nine left coast time, touches down promptly at three
Houston time. They're home by quarter to four. Ellen unpacks the clothes, the
twins unpack the weapons. Only one Glock was fired, Katya cleans it and returns
the guns to their spot with the other children, locks the safe and shuts the hidden
door.
Ellen, "Enough quickie food, I'm runnin' to the store for fat filets, scalloped
potatoes and, let's see...yeah, creamed spinach, simple to make. Back in a bit,"
she's out again, garage door trundles down.
Katja, "Ellen ees best girl for us. She ees take care of everything."
"We also make her rich. Still, you are correct, she looks out for sisters first always.
I know she likes for us to boss around, but I never think to do it much. She is sweet
girl, and good with gun, even better with rifle."
"You haf decided, yes?"
"Da, we will buy a house in New Orleans French Quarter. One with inside parking,
courtyard, balcony two stories or maybe even three. We will skip most of winter
and all summer, but fall and spring, when the weather is good. Easy flight over, we
can do outside business from there as simple as here."
"We will keep Katya Donut?"
"For now, it is good for laundering the cash. We have good managers, and we will
fly over from New Orleans maybe once a month to check stores, our house, fly
back. Private Blue Sky makes it easy, small airports, no TSA line, just get on plane
and go."
The evening news is full of the sudden brutal demise of Serge Brin, game
developer and nine digit millionaire. Found in his car at an underpass by a bread
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truck driver, a shaken Elmo Fedders. Fedders has a mike stuck in his face, all he
says is, 'Look like nothin' I ever seen and somethin' I never wanna see again,' he
shakes his head and walks off.
Reporter turns to the camera, "Police report three shots to the head in this tragic
murder, Serge Brin, successful entrepreneur, dead at twenty nine. Police ask for
anyone who may have been in the vicinity around ten last evening to call the
number on the screen."
Cut to Lamborghini being loaded on a flatbed, cop car lights flashing red and blue
against the half lit morning sky.
The girls don't see it, they don't watch the news. It was on the early morning local
San Francisco stations when the girls were headed to the airport, quickly picked up
by the networks, then on CNN the entire day.
Two days later the investigation is as dead as Serge. A call came in from an
unnamed local resident that saw what night have been the car in question at a red
light, but she turned a block behind to her apartment. She said the car looked like a
race car, not so unusual in that toney part of the Bay area. Cops chalk it up to a
random robbery gone bad. The expensive car attracted attention, someone saw
what they thought was a quick opportunity. Nothing was taken, speculation is the
woman's car comes along and the robber fled.
Penny calls, "I have something for you."
Katya rides over, Penny pours tea, "You got balls, right on the street."
"Dark, bushes, underpass. Not a freeway entrance or exit, just the road under a
highway."
She skips the part about going to the company, meeting Brin, fixing bad code.
Penny doesn't know about her computer skills, and she doesn't need to know. She
doesn’t know Vika is now Katya. Better for her to be in the dark. Katya also sent
an e-mail to Mark and Marge declining the offer, mom in poor health, need to
return to Yugoslavia immediately. Glad to help, blah, blah.
Katya has never been in Yugoslavia, the email address leads no place. The
likelihood of anyone putting together Valeria with Brin's death is zero.
Penny, "Slick work, messy, but he's dead and that's what the client wanted, didn't
specify dead and pretty. Since it's the girlfriend's dad, dead and ugly probably suits
him fine. They've kept her out of the news, bunch of piranha circling Brin's
mansion. She's probably back home and I don't think the press knows where dad
lives. Lawyers will sort out who gets what, Brin has a mom and dad living, a sister
someplace."
Katya, "Good payday, lucky for us girl has rich daddy."
"And she has no idea he paid to get Brin out of her life. I wonder if she goes to the
funeral?"
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"Better to skip if it is public, press all over like a dog sniffing assholes."
Penny laughs, "I'll keep in touch. We may have something cooking, there have
been tentative inquiries, nothing definite. Sometimes these things are false alarms,
people think about hiring a hit, but price or cold feet keep them from following
through."
Katya, "You know where to find me."

Forty Two

Ellen, "We gonna get what? No shit, that is so cool."

Katja just informed her about the French Quarter home, "We still haf to find what
we want. Good space, quiet part of Quarter, inside parking, private courtyard."
Ellen, "Wow, gonna cost I guess."
"We will get best place, maybe takes a while."
Life otherwise rotates around Katya Donut, the shooting range and workouts at
home. The three girls put on the gloves once a week and get after it. They use
headgear, brain damage doesn't seem like a good idea, and a full mouthpiece that
protects both top and bottom teeth. They started with twelve ounce boxing gloves,
then moved to Thai-style, less padding, good wrist support.
Ellen, "Damn, Thai gloves make a punch feel like a punch. The others felt like a
pillow fight compared to these."
Katya, "Better, get used to being hit. Punches do not kill, people get scared when
they feel pain. We learn to keep going with pain, not surrender. Maybe we will
never have to fight, better to shoot. We will use big gloves one week, little ones the
next."
Ellen, "I like it. The treadmill or the bikes are great, but nothing like having to stay
on the move and attack while someone is trying to knock your head off. A whole
different level of aerobics, flippin' lose the fear aerobics."
They also practice standard arm locks, twist the wrist, break an elbow. Sidekick to
the knee, kneecap to the groin. And while they can't practice it directly, they
pseudo practice thumbs in eye sockets, knuckles to the throat, heel of palm hard
against the bit just under your nose, crush the septum, the bone and cartilage that
separates your two nasal cavities. It hurts when it's smushed; no, the bones don't go
up in the brain and kill, that’s not possible, but the fight goes right out of the
opponent.
Katya adds a few simple escapes, bear hug behind, raise your arms, stomp the
guy's arch, drop down to slip the hold. In a choke, dip chin hard to chest, bite the
crap out of any available body part, reach behind, get to his eyes. A thumb in an
eye socket is going to make him let go instantly. If you think taking an attacker's
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eyes is too brutal, then you're free to get raped or murdered. The person who
understands the only rule, a street fight has no rules, wins.
At the end of the fight sessions, there are bruises, sore ribs, sometimes a bloody
nose. Over the months, they develop an immunity, a mental callus, they can go
longer and harder. No street or bar fight lasts longer than a minute or two,
somebody quits, people intervene. It isn't a marathon, it's a forty yard dash, a
hundred at most. When the girls can go at it for ten minutes straight, no breaks, no
rounds, just bob, weave, hit and get hit, Katya says enough.
"If we can go that hard for that long, it's three times longer than any real fight we
might have. More punishment is not productive."
Ellen, "Don't hurt my feelings any. Katja's got a right cross that could flatten a full
growed bull. I see stars when she connects and I'm wearin' headgear."
Katja, "You let left hand down, I get seemple shot to head. Protect yourself, keep
hands up."
"Then I get nailed in the ribs."
"Da, better to keep moving, fighting ees anyway hard. We are tough girl now, keek
ass."
Katya's looking at a text, "Maybe we have place in New Orleans. Three story, on
corner with solid steel gate, parking and courtyard. Remodeled already, upgrade
kitchen, bath, wood floors, slave quarter in back converted to two apartments."
Ellen, "How much?"
"Three million. It's over seven thousand square feet, that includes the courtyard and
slave quarters."
"Sheeyt, I never dreamed of livin' in a three million dollar anything. I'd kill
everybody for that."
"We do not have to kill. We will buy and live there in fall and spring. Also maybe
get someone to live in one of apartment, they will keep house and watch property
when we are away."
Ellen, "Gotta find somebody trustworthy."
"We will have video monitors everywhere, house, courtyard, front. Housekeeping
person will not be able to turn them off. Tomorrow, we fly to New Orleans,
complete purchase, then furnish. Book a hotel."
In New Orleans, suite at the Royal Orleans on St. Louis, a few blocks from the new
place. The agent takes them through the property, she's hard selling, uselessly.
Katya, "We will pay cash if we can close today or tomorrow. We have three other
options, but I like this one.”
She doesn't have three other anythings, but the agent only knows Katya showed up
in a Mercedes with a driver so hot she'd make your fillings melt.
Katya could get the place two or three hundred grand cheaper, she hardly cares
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about that. Give them a check and be done.

Two days later, they have the key. Ellen gets busy with a locksmith, Katya and
Katja install video surveillance, code the system and double check camera angles.
When they're satisfied, they program it to send an alert if it's shut down for any
reason. Power outages don't matter, it's on battery backup.
Ellen hires a decorator, "The interior is beautifully old world, we want subtle,
natural woods, new, not antique. Throw rugs next to the beds and one for the
central living area, not the dining room or offices. No carpet anywhere. Window
treatments should be functional and attractive, muted solid colors, not French
whorehouse. This is a quiet refuge, not a party palace. We want the furnishings
well crafted, but not so they weigh a thousand pounds each. I'll deal with the
kitchen."
Decorator, "Know what you want, that makes it easier."
"And make sure we get value for money. I'm going to double check prices. I want
you to get paid properly, but you work for me, not the furniture company. Are we
agreed?"
The woman gets round eyed, "Yes, of course. It won't be a problem. Do you have,
um....a budget?"
"I'll worry about that, bring photos of the furniture, a list of brands and specifics. If
the prices are fair, good enough, I'm not going to negotiate you down. If I think I'm
being jerked around, I fire you and move on to the next one. Isn't like I have to
move in tomorrow."
She does the right thing, doesn't flinch, stands her ground, "I have a good idea what
you want, I know what I'm doing. You won't be disappointed."
"Last thing, do not bring a dozen samples of drapes, furniture coverings, or rugs. I
don't want to do your job, bring what you think works. If I don't like something, I'll
tell you why and what I want instead. I have no time to flip through fabric samples.
Oh, and the bedroom wall coverings are fine, so's the kitchen. The living room and
dining room suck. Get it toned down to something more neutral. The crap on the
dining room walls needs a volume control."
Decorator laughs, "So glad you said that. It is truly horrid, peach plum garish."
Ellen, "See you in a few, you have my number. If you need in, call me."

Forty Three

After the preliminaries are complete, the twins fly back to Houston, Ellen stays to
oversee the work and buy kitchen equipment, utensils, plates, cups and glasses.
There’s also the matter of linens and bath accessories, she’s a busy girl. She adds a
refrigerated wine cellar, stocks the new Viking mega-refrigerator and has a
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professional ice maker and water purification system installed. In six weeks, it's
complete.
Katya, "Ellen, you did perfect job, it is splendid."
Katja, "Da, cool place, where ees vodka?"
Ellen, "Russian Standard in the freezer, shot glasses too, shall we?"
Katya pours and toasts, "To Ellen!”
They down the shots, Ellen blushes a bit.
"Hell, I didn't do anything but spend our money."
Katja, "On beautiful furniture, ees comfort and practical. Bedrooms are elegant, top
quality and sharp, not noisy. Decorator did good job, yes?"
"She stuck with my guidelines, I double checked the prices, we paid, didn't
overpay. I spent a bundle on the fridge, but we cook at home a lot and the damn
things last forever. One apartment is only basically furnished, I had in mind more
of a workout area than an apartment. The other is mid-range, decent refrigerator,
ordinary washer and dryer. Basic utensils and dishes, if we’re hiring a live in, they
need to live."
Katya, "Good idea. Buy equipment and martial arts padded flooring."
Ellen, "Get started tomorrow. What about the apartment? I was busy with
arrangements, I didn't go out for entertainment, only to shop."
Katya, "We will get to know city better, meet people in French Quarter, maybe
college student wants free rent, but one who can be here in the summer. No hurry,
we will see."
"I'm making dinner tonight, figured first night in our new place, we have lots of
time to explore the city's restaurants. And I've been girl free for six weeks, plus we
have new beds to break in."
Katja, "What ees lunch?"
"Let's take a walk, remember that coffee shop a couple blocks over?"
Two and a half blocks to Cafe EnVie on Decatur Street. They had coffee here on
the last visit.
Katya looks over the choices, it's a breakfast and lunch place, variety of egg dishes
and sandwiches, a half dozen panini choices. She gets Eggs Envie, scrambled with
melted brie on a croissant with crispy hash browns, Katja a steak and cheese panini
with sautéed pepper and onions, Ellen a Farmer's Omelet, quartered button
mushrooms, onions, peppers, diced grilled ham, cheddar cheese, and tomatoes.
Hash browns and a buttermilk biscuit.
Katya, "This is good Ellen, glad you remembered, and so close."
"Yeah, they have Cafe Fleur De Lis on Charters Street with a broader menu, I had
a good po-boy there. They use that wonderful Leidenheimer’s French bread we
like and can only get in New Orleans. I have a fresh loaf at home. Home...wow, we
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have a flippin' French Quarter mansion. I've been in a dream since we bought it."
Katja, "We will haf Keoki Coffee, brandy, coffee liquor, and hot drip coffee," she
orders three.
Ellen sips, "Sheesh, that's potent, they aren't shy about the brandy."
Katya, "We never had brandy, buy some for after dinner drink, what is a good
one?"
"Cognac, which is brandy but from a specific region in France, there's a town
called Cognac. We covered it in the wine course I took, I know several good ones.
And there's a good wine store on Magazine Street, Martin's Wine Cellar. Carries
our Russian Standard too.  I have us stocked up, but we can run by tomorrow and
get the cognac. "
They walk off lunch exploring the Quarter, still full of tourists even on a weekday.
They circle Jackson Square, stands of fortune tellers, tarot cards, mediocre artists,
guys playing Dixieland Jazz. Everybody trying to hustle a few bucks from the
visitors.
Katja buys a box of pralines, sole concession to tourist, they sample one sitting on
a bench on the Moonwalk, which is the top of the Mississippi River levee.
Katja, "Maple flavor sugar, ees good, wiz pecan."
Ellen, "Man they got some big ass ships going up and down this river. Scary, the
water level is higher than the land. That levee breaks, gonna be a big mess."
"We have flood insurance. Besides, the French Quarter is here because it was the
highest ground along the river when New Orleans was founded. In Katrina, it didn't
flood. But this levee wasn't the one that broke."
Katja, "They still haf boat to take people across. And paddle wheel boat for tourist
treep. Where does it go?"
Ellen, "I asked, some just cruise up and down, one goes to the Audubon Zoo. I'm
not interested in animals in cages. I don't get zoos."
Katya, "Nyet, no zoo. It is six, we will walk down Bourbon Street and back home."
They stroll along, Bourbon Street means nothing to them, they don't like crowded
bars, strip clubs hold no interest. Galatoire's is on Bourbon, that's a good thing.
And the Bourbon House oyster bar is too, another good thing. Before long they hit
the residential section which is the back half of the French Quarter. There are
condos and apartments in the nightlife front half, but it's harder to drive around and
on weekends, during events it's insane.
They come to Ursulines, take a right to their new home.
Katya, "Time for shower. A good walk anyway."
Ellen's room is next to the twins, there are four full baths and a half just off the
living area. Two bedrooms are empty, Ellen didn't see the point in furnishing them
yet. She decided to see how, or if, they might be used in the future. For now, they
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store weapons in the closet safe of one bedroom.

Refreshed, in t-shirts and socks, Katya makes drinks while Ellen prepares the slow
cook pot roast she has on tap for tonight. It's been eight hours, the meat is fall apart
tender. Brown gravy from scratch, which is simple stuff, beef stock and flour slow
stirred to a boil and simmered down to the consistency she wants. She's going to
make buttery garlic bread with the Leidenheimer's, mashed potatoes and the twins
favorite, creamed spinach, for a veg side.
"We'll have roast left, I made enough for po-boys. It'll keep in the fridge for a day
or so, then we'll have it for lunch."
They toast the evening with vodka shots, then a second for good measure. Ellen
opens a crispy tart Cabernet to enjoy with the roast. She serves at seven thirty,
enjoys her girls enjoying her food. The twins, usually intense, particularly Katya,
are different humans here. The laid back lassitude of New Orleans does what it
does, lets its hair down, accepts, competition isn't a big deal. Getting down with
life is more important than getting ahead. New Orleans doesn't microwave, New
Orleans slow cooks.
Katya, "We will have drinks in courtyard."
Ellen's got citronella candles burning, keeps the bugs occupied, two separate bug
zappers in corners away from the sitting area. New Orleans is wet, tropical,
mosquitoes are a fact of life.
Ellen, "If the candles don't do the job, I looked at a mosquito net tent. I can have it
strung up across the courtyard, drop it when we want to be outside."
It's a pleasant fall evening, blue black sky above. The moon is half full and glows
just above.
Katja can't resist, she kneels between Ellen's elegant smooth legs. Ellen slides
forward, Katya stands over her sister and Ellen leans to her, double delight. Katja's
tongue on her and her tongue on Katya, guess they'll break in the beds another
time.

Forty Four

After two months, they've toured the city, including the suburbs. Most of what they
like about New Orleans is the French Quarter, a few restaurants in the Garden
District, including Commander's Palace. A drive further down Magazine is a quaint
shopping and restaurant stretch they favor.
Lakeview and Metaire are ordinary mediocrities, like any suburb. They took a
drive across Lake Pontchartrain, consensus is Mandeville and Covington are places
they never need visit again.
Frequenting Cafe EnVie, they meet an older gentleman, Gerard Depardieu, who
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seems to be something of an expert on the occult. And they're on conversational

terms with the wait staff and barista/bartenders.
Today, Michael is behind the bar, "Ah, les trois perfections, the usual? One
medium roast, two English breakfast, double strength?"
Michael, like Gerard, is French, and calls the girls the three perfections, can't
blame him for trying but he learned soon enough a date is out of the question.
EnVie is off the tourist path, lot of locals and it has wifi, a few outdoor tables, they
don't bug people to gobble and move along
Ellen, "Yes, and for breakfast, one traditional, bacon ultra crisp, grits, eggs over
easy, one French toast, and a Shepard's omelet."
Gerard strolls in. He's always in a suit and tie, nothing new or fashionable, always
clean and pressed. Slim, unusual these days for a sixty something, he wears a
fedora, carries a mild scent of pipe tobacco.
Ellen, "Gerard, good morning, just ordered, have a seat."
"How kind, thank you," he turns to Michael and nods, he always has almond liquor
au lait, bagel and lox. He either comes every day or it's an incredible coincidence
that they see him whenever they come for breakfast.
"And what have les trois perfections been up to?"
Katya, "We come to the French Quarter so we don't have to get up to anything."
Gerard, "Good point. I have myself been dabbling in the dark arts, as you know.
Not true, far more than a dabble. People are completely unaware of unseen
mysteries. But they are there, not spirits, that's childish, energies operating out of
normal human sensory capacity. The meaning of occult is ‘hidden from view’ after
all."
His drink comes, followed shortly by breakfast.
Katja, "What ees going on then? Wiz eenergy?"
Gerard, "Such a delightful accent, your twin has none. Suppose it makes you easier
to tell apart. If you dressed alike nobody would know one from another. I've
known a few twins, none so identically identical. To your question, the energy can
affect and create effects. There is such a thing as a negative, or violent atmosphere,
and another benevolent one. Those atmospherics cause different behaviors in
people, animals, anything, living or not. I am trying to direct the energies, cause
them to act on things."
Ellen, "No luck?"
"Minor, a flutter of a candle, a shift in a bit of paper. I experienced the energy
directly. I cannot yet change or make it do what I wish."
Katya, "How long are you doing this?"
"Thirty years, at first only casually, a hobby. I never married, personal
relationships of that nature escape me. I did inherit a fair amount when my mother
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passed, I bought my place here, invested the rest. I live comfortably off those
earnings. I have never had an actual job. I am a useless weirdo."
Ellen laughs, "Not hardly. You won the family lottery and do what interests you.
Don't sound like it hurts anyone."
Gerard smiles, "No, in that regard, I am harmless. My personal needs are simple, I
enjoy our New Orleans cuisine, not a gourmet, I like wine or brandy, splurge on
harder stuff occasionally. Don't eat lunch, have lots of dinner options in the vicinity
if I want to get out, the rest of the time I have soup or a sandwich in the evening."
Katya, "You should come for dinner, Friday. Ellen is an excellent chef, she will
make something."
Gerard, "Oh my, how very considerate, I would be delighted. What time?"
"Come at six thirty, we have cocktails then, dinner afterwards."
Ellen, "Anything you don't eat?"
Gerard, "Not so far, although I can't say I'm a fan of Mexican or Indian food."
"We like Mexican once in a while, but we go out for it, don't make it at home. Just
wanted to make sure you weren't a vegetarian or allergic to seafood. New Orleans
would be a funny place to live for someone with seafood allergies but I suppose it
happens."
"No, nothing like that, kind of you to ask though," breakfast finished, they settle
the tabs and walk outside.
Ellen, "See you Friday, I'm thinking steak, whip up a nice Marchand de Vin."
"Splendid, I am all anticipation."
The girls go up to Ursulines and take a right, Gerard is further down on Barracks
St.
Ellen, "You surprise me, inviting him to dinner."
"He is interesting. I do not know about mysterious energy or the occult. He
believes it."
Ellen, "I used to get freaky about that stuff when I was little. My dope mother went
to a fortune teller. I was young, she said the woman told her things nobody could
know. When I got older I realized she was getting fed a line of crap, the predictions
were so vague you could read anything into them. It was dumb."
Katja, "So you are not anymore freaky?"
"No, I had to quit being scared of the dark. My mother's boyfriends were around
and I needed to keep away from 'em. One way was hiding in the dark. Dark was
my pal, in our current line of work, dark is still my pal."
As they reach the house, Katya's phone rings, it's Penny.
"Where are you?"
"New Orleans, hanging out a couple of days."
"Want to work?"
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"How soon?"
"Next week is good, no mention of a rush job."
"Where?"
"Place called Destin, it's a middle class resort area on the Florida panhandle. From
New Orleans, looks like five hours on I-10."
"Send details."
"In bits and pieces."
That means she would send a photo to one e-mail, home address to another, work
address to a third.
"It's light work, fifty cents worth, and interestingly, the client is a woman."
Katya, “Only woman to hire me was you.”
“Yep, a first for me, a second for you.”
Fifty thousand, good, it isn't a name, or a cop or politician.
Katya clicks off, "We go to Destin Florida next week."
Ellen, "I heard of it, right on the Gulf, bunch of those big high rise places with
views of the beach and ocean. Too bad we can't hang around."
"If we like it, we can go again when we do not kill anyone."

Forty Five

Friday evening, Gerard shows up on time, bearing a magnum of chilled French

champagne.
Ellen, “Now that’s real sweet honey. Come on in, let’s pop the cork and see what’s
what. Twins are in the courtyard, just go on out, I’ll get this baby in ice and bring
glasses.”
Katya, “Welcome to our home.”
Gerard, “Splendid place, such a refreshing choice in furnishings. Most of these
places are full of fake antiques or just furniture from garage sales. You have
chosen quality furnishings with a nod to muted elegance. Tasteful.”
“Ellen found a decorator and explained what we wanted, she went to work and this
is what we got. We are satisfied.”
Ellen brings glasses of Champagne, “This splendid Champagne is courtesy of our
guest, thank you sir. I have Beluga blini for appetizers. Dinner is mixed greens
with vinaigrette, filet mignon, Marchand de Vin, southern style green beans and
sautéed mushrooms. Naturally accompanied by Leidenheimer’s finest. Feel free to
dip the bread in the sauce, we aren’t fussy.”
Gerard, “Sounds delightful.”
Ellen returns to the kitchen, Gerard asks, “She is self taught, as a chef I mean?”
Katya, “She learned southern cooking from a grandmother, then wanted to go to a
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cooking school. She took classes, then another wine course that included liqueurs
and various distilled beverages. She enjoys it. When we discovered the food and
the ambiance of the French Quarter, we decided to buy a residence.”
Gerard, “Plan on opening your own place?”
Katya, “No, Ellen does not want the long hours of the restaurant business. She is
happy to prepare meals for us. We have other interests, travel a bit. Ellen is not our
cook, it is something she does out of her personal interest. We are three girls
together, she isn’t an employee.”
“No, that’s obvious just from the café. I get the sense she is more like taking care
of you. I can’t say I’ve seen anything that requires taking care of, but apparently
she sees it as her responsibility.”
Katja, “Ellen ees good girl, works hard. She ees always look out for sisters, it ees
her way. But she ees equal girl here, owns this place wiz us.”
Gerard, “Stunning young lady, and a talented chef, quite a find. These blini are
incredible. I haven’t had Beluga caviar in ages, it is superb.”
Ellen comes out and refills glasses, “Gonna put the steaks on, suggest you go to the
table and start salads, how do you like your steak, Gerard, we’re all barely medium
rare, we see a little blood as a good thing.”
“Perfect.”
“Be there in ten, go on inside, gonna smoke up the courtyard.”
She clicks on the fan standing next to the grill to blow the smoke away from her
and the house.
Just as they wind up salads, Ellen comes in with a platter of steaks. While they
select and dish up green beans and mushrooms, she adds the Marchand de Vin in a
gravy boat, then takes her place.
Gerard, “My God, steak melts in the mouth, sauce is perfect. I have no words for
the green beans, it’s been ages since I’ve had them like this, cooked down all day,
ham pieces, diced onion and potatoes, all peppery delectable.”
Dinner discussion revolves around the typical New Orleans topic, favored
restaurants. Then Ellen brings out chocolate soufflé, drops vanilla crème inside the
hot gooey center, pours more champagne.
“Ellen, you are a genius. I am so glad you don’t have your own restaurant, I have a
gourmet dinner with no reservations fuss and don’t have to leave a tip. Yours
would be gigantic.”
“Aw, sweet. I like the process, shopping, preparation and cooking, it’s a pleasure
to feed my girls. And I’m real happy to have a new fan. I think you might like a
pipe about now, so hop on out to the courtyard with Katya and Katja. I gotta clean
up, be out with you in a jiffy.”
Gerard, “It’s okay, I can light up in the courtyard?”
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Katya, “Da, yes, sure. We don’t mind. Haf big fan and pipe isn’t anyway
unpleasant.”
Ellen comes out in ten with a tray of snifters and a bottle of Cognac, “Now I get to
sit and enjoy, we got hooked on Cognac in Envie’s coffee, now it’s an after dinner
staple.”
She pours, they swirl and sniff.
Katja, “Gerard, you will tell us about occult things.”
“Are you interested? I can go on.”
Katja, “Eef you are boring we can always shoot you.”
He laughs, “Just change the subject, I’ll get the idea. I came to it in a normal way I
think. As I mentioned to other day, I am certain there is a form of energy, available
to all, actually in us. But its real power is untapped by most humans. I am also sure
there are a few that are able to use it. I have no use for charlatans, mere magicians.
In my world there is no rising table, no voices from the departed, no fortune
telling. But there are spells, hexes, that can operate in one’s mind, cause the
victims to behave in ways they would never consider. I mean only if the individual
is aware of it of course, simple power of suggestion. Energy can move matter,
actually, energy is matter, and if a mind can channel that energy, it too can move
matter. Already it is possible to put electrodes on one person’s head, run them
through a computer to electrodes on another’s head, causing the second to raise an
arm, select a certain object. Just by the first thinking about it. A brain operating
directly on another brain, aided by technology. I think it can be done without tech
support. I also know there are twins who are so in synch, one starts a sentence, the
second picks it up in the middle and the first finishes it. I can’t prove it, but there
must be some element of the same brain in two people. Or I should say, the same
mental energies operating.”
Katya doesn’t mention the she and Katja can communicate mentally now. He
seems trustworthy, but she sees no advantage in him knowing.
Katja, “And what experiment do you do, wiz yourself?”
Gerard, “I have time, always had lots of time, no job, no personal entanglements. I
traveled, that got monotonous soon enough. So I decided to stay put. I parked
myself in my home, studied the occult, most of it is gibberish. I would tire of
reading, having nothing else to do I learned to sit still for long periods of time. I
didn’t call it meditating, perhaps that what it was, but I wasn’t after a mental high.
I simply wanted to see what happened if I did nothing. Thoughts came and went, I
would get fidgety, first after twenty minutes, then thirty, then a whole hour. I once
spent twelve hours sitting in a chair, no music, no TV, no nothing aside from a
couple of trips to the bathroom. The clock ticked, I heard my heartbeat. In repeated
sessions of three to four hours, I began to notice waves in the air. I thought it was
 134

my brain occupying itself. I started to see if I could push the waves around, make
them flow left to right or back to front. It took two years, but I did it.”
“Maybe you make it up in your head.”
“I wondered the same thing. So I lit a candle, tried to make the air in the room as
still as possible, no fans, no air conditioner. If there was a draft from under a door
or window, I couldn’t feel it. I found I could make the candle flame bend in
whatever direction I made the waves flow. If I could have, I’d have done a back
flip. I did treat myself to a particularly good Pinot Noir.”
Ellen, “That’s cool. You got some real patience, workin’ it for years.”
“It seems such a small thing, but to do it at all, it was most gratifying to have even
a small payoff for the effort.”
Katja, “What now, or ees there more?”
“Good question. My little mental gyrations don’t have any use, it isn’t like I can
stop a bullet, or even knock over a wine glass.”
Katya, “You must work with something bigger. No need to break a glass. Bend a
straw maybe, can you focus the waves to a particular point?”
“I think so. I need to try it. You think it might improve, like exercise builds a
muscle?”
“Why not? Try, find out. This is not occult like a witch, it is paranormal maybe,
but no reason to label it anything.”
“You make a good point. I tagged it occult I suppose because that’s the subject I
have most studied. It is only occult if the energy manipulation causes a person to
behave out of character. Even then, occult implies unexplained, I see the waves, I
can push them a bit. The fact is there, how I do it is unexplained.”
Katya, “You intended to do it, does it need more explanation? Consciousness is
accepted as fact, but nobody knows what it is, how it works.”
Gerard fires up another pipe, “Quite true, you’ve opened up a new avenue. I can
veer away from occult, even paranormal. It is a science experiment now. You have
helped me see that. Although it was sexier when I thought of it as occult, more
mysterious.”
Katja, “Ees okay eef you call it occult. Ees just a word.”
“No, no, I must move away from it. It has a rather ridiculous connotation. Now, I
shall say I have studied the occult extensively, and found nothing in it. I will not
tell anyone about the new experiments, you will not say anything?”
Katya, “We do not jabber. People in Quarter and New Orleans are nice, simple
people, uncomplicated, mostly superstitious. Does not help to talk of serious
matters with superstitious people.”
Gerard laughs, “You figured out this town quickly.”
“Voodoo and Catholicism are the same thing, New Orleans has a lot of both.
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Throw in the evangelicals, the whole place is insane. Only the Quarter has a few
people with open minds.”

Forty Six

Their guest takes his leave with thank yous and another appreciation for Ellen.
Ellen, “He’s a real sweet man, wouldn’t hurt a fly, like a old style Southern
gentleman.”
Katya, “We do not get into sister and I, you understand?”
Ellen, “A’course, I know how to talk and not say much. Hell, we shoot people we
don’t even know. Hit girls gotta keep their lipsticked lips shut.”
Katja, “You make good dinner Ellen, steak was peerfect, you haf touch wiz food.
Now you will go upstairs and sister and I will touch peerfect body.”
Ellen, “Now you’re talkin’ girl.”
That’s pretty much the last talking they do, aside from mumbled noises, gasps and
groans. Katja and Katya double Ellen, cover the taut territory, and recover it just to
be thorough. Then Katya uses a strap on, on Katja, followed by Ellen doing Katya
with a second toy.
They lay on the bed post orgasmia, Ellen in the middle, her girls snugged close
against her. She recalls a recent morning with Katja on her knees doing her twin
while she and Katya made out. She grins to herself, recalling how steamy it was.
She feels herself warming again.
To her pleasant surprise, she feels Katja’s hand tug her thigh. Slide across and
she’s in between Ellen’s legs, tongue having a second go on the soft sensual. Ellen
briefly wonders how idiotic her grin looks, then no thought at all, only the
sparkling plasma of ecstasy.
This morning, coffee and tea in the courtyard. Ellen toasts bagels, adds cream
cheese and smoked salmon.
Ellen, “What do we get up to today?”
Katya, “We go to Destin and fulfill contract. I’ll find a hotel, you and sister can
prepare.”
An hour later, they’re on the road, it’s all I-10 except for the last sixty miles or so.
Katya books them at Henderson Park Inn, biggest suite they have. It’s not peak
season in February, the nicest room was available so she took it.
The drive is boring, just flat land and interstate to the Redneck Riviera, aka the
Emerald coast, which includes Pensacola, Ft. Walton, Destin, on down to Panama
City. Destin is overloaded with high rise condos. People pay fat prices, use them
for a few weeks a year and rent them out the rest of the time. If you get lucky, most
of your mortgage is covered by the rentals.
 136

Ellen, “Nice beaches, white sand. Good spot to work on a tan.”

Katya, “Maybe we will come in the fall. While I was shopping for a room, I found
another place further along call Seaside. It’s not as built up, same sand, fewer
people.”
Ellen, “Could be more our style, it’s not like we’re tryin’ to meet guys and party.
None of this compares to Bermuda and I looked at another spot, St. Martin’s,
appears equally pristine as Bermuda, she pulls the SUV into the lot, “smaller place,
that’s good.”
Check in, to the room, Ellen says, “Dang, cool spot Katya. View of the beach, big
ass private balcony. King bed, separate living and dining. Look at this bathroom,
dual head walk-in shower, flipping towel warmers.”
Katya, “I booked two nights. We need to track target, best to complete job on the
day we leave maybe.”
“What’s he do?”
“Plays golf.”
“Retired or what?”
“No, he teaches golf, runs a shop at one of the courses.”
“Oh, a golf pro.”
“Yes, golf pro, that’s what Penny called him. We will drive by the place and see
what it looks like, then by his house.”
On the way to the course, Ellen asks, “He married, got a girlfriend, boyfriend?”
Katya, “No information. She didn’t say why someone wants him dead either.”
Katja, “Maybe lessons no good.”
Ellen laughs, “Be funny to have a guy killed because he couldn’t lower your
scores.”
Katja, “Maybe we beat him to death wiz golfing club. What would be best club?”
“I don’t know jack about golf. One of my mother’s endless boyfriends played, I
saw his bag of clubs a coupla times, but he mostly kept ‘em in the trunk. I suppose
a whack on the head with one of the metal ones would do it. Probably gotta bash
him mor’n once, sounds messy.”
“Shooting man in head ees messy, but anyway we don’t bash wiz golfing club.
Best way, one shot, go home, haf vodka and sex.”
They’re at the course, one building is the pro shop, another bigger place where
they store golf carts. It’s a Saturday, place is buzzing with golfers wrapping up
rounds.
Katja, “I will go see eef he ees een shop,” she gets out of the car and walks across
the parking lot.
It doesn’t matter if he sees her. First, she’s mildly disguised, fedora, oversize
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sunglasses, in ordinary loose fit jeans and a long sleeve pullover. Second, he’s
going to be dead soon.
Five minutes later she back, “He ees inside behind counter, they close shop at six
today.”
Katya, “We will wait. We need to see his car, Penny did not send that. We also can
follow him home.”
Katja, “Sign also says course ees close Monday. So he will not be anyway here.”
Ellen, “Maybe he comes in to do shop stuff on the day it’s closed. Might be able to
pop him right here if the lot’s empty.”
Katya, “Two hours to close, we will check out his house, then get tea and come
back.”
After they pass the house, nothing fancy, a ranch style in a vanilla neighborhood,
Ellen drives to Starbucks. They return with black tea and coffee. Business is
winding down, parking lot more than half empty, golfers are sticking bags in
trunks, hand off the cart to one of the teenagers.
Finally it’s six, lot’s got four cars. Only one is fairly new, a two year old Infiniti. A
man comes out of the shop, it’s the target, mid thirties, dark curly hair, slim, looks
to be in decent shape. He gets in the Infiniti, cranks it and pulls away. His assassins
follow at a discrete distance.
He turns in his drive, garage door winds its way up, there’s a second car.
“He’s either got two cars or a girlfriend.”
Before the door closes, a man comes out of the garage entranceway, he hands the
golf pro a drink and kisses him.
Ellen, “Well, dang, a gay golf pro. Ain’t America great?”
Katya, “Person who hired us is a woman. Target is gay.”
Ellen, “Maybe an ex for a closeted dude who opened the closet, or she opened the
closet and found him in it with the boyfriend. That might piss off some women.”
“We won’t know. We don’t want to know. All targets have bad blood someplace,
is how they get to be target.”
Ellen laughs, “Good point, some people just got no sense of humor, or proportion.
Like you find out your stud is gay, so what? There’s another stud in line to take his
place. Hell, might not be it at all, maybe he owes her money, or has an interest in
children. Gay people aren’t automatically peds, but some men go for kiddie boys.
Might be a hostile mom.”
Katja, “Ees no mahter, we will keel eef he ees good guy or bad guy. We keel
anyone, race, gender, sexual orienting. We are not prejudice killers. ”
Ellen laughs again, “Katja, you are a trip. But you’re right, pay us, your problem
goes away.”

Forty Seven
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They return to the hotel, shower, time for a drink and dinner. Henderson Park has a
quality upscale restaurant and it’s right on the beach.
They share two appetizers, Kung Pao shrimp and foie gras with pecans, arugula
and crème fraiche.
One entree of pecan flour crusted grouper, oven roasted, crispy mashed potato
cake, honey Worcestershire and chives.
Two orders of filet mignon, served au poivre, pepper crusted and pan roasted with
a bleu cheese brandy reduction.
Ellen has the fish, Katja cuts off a chunk of steak for her, Ellen feeds her a fork of
fish.
“Feesh ees good,” Ellen puts piece on Katya’s plate and swipes a bit of garlic
mashed potato that accompanies the steaks.
Ellen, “Dang, this place has a good rep for a reason. Fine food, well presented.”
She pours another round of Charles Heidsieck champagne, “Glad they have this on
the wine list, I learned about it in wine class. This and Gosset are the two best in
my book, authentic French champagne. Heidsieck grew up around vineyards, his
uncle had a champagne house. He founded his own and wanted to go bigger than
just France. He brought champagne to America in eighteen fifty two, spent some
time in New Orleans actually. Went back to France, then introduced it in England
and Belgium. People called him Champagne Charlie, he was your basic socialite
type. Charming, over the top personality they say.”
Finish off the bottle, skip dessert and walk to their suite. They undress in the
bedroom, Ellen asks, “Want a nightcap?”
Simultaneous ‘da.’
She goes off to pour vodkas. When she returns to the bedroom, Katja is leaning
against the dressing table looking down at Katya pleasuring her sister.
Ellen grins, she hands Katja the glass. She does the shot, takes the second glass
from Ellen and pulls Katya’s head back, pours the liquid in her mouth, swallow,
right back to pleasuring.
Ellen drinks hers, then sits on the bed across from the twins, leans on one arm
while a finger on the other works its way between her long legs. Katja watches
Ellen play solo, hands hold the back of Katya’s head.
Ellen takes her wet finger from its task, puts it in her mouth and slides it out
slowly, staring at Katja staring at her. Katja stiffens, then shakes, low groan, a
second shudder and a gasp. She pulls Katya up for a long deep kiss, turns her to
face Ellen and runs her hands gently down Katya’s chest, tease the nipples, then to
hips. One hand slips between her legs, slow strokes. Ellen is on the edge of the
bed, beautiful legs spread, leaning back on her hands.
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Katya walks to Ellen, strokes her cheek then pulls her forward. Katja kneels
between Ellen’s legs.
Ellen thinks, “Jaysus, one hot twin licking me while I do the other. And we get to
shoot someone and get paid for it. I fell into a perfect life….oh,’ then a long
ooooohhh, she and Katya sensationally simulgasm.
Katja, “Peerfect timing,” she’s kissing Ellen’s legs, Katya’s working her lips.
Ellen, “That was so sweet, God I’m still tingly. Thank you honey-babies. I got the
best girlfriends on the damn planet.”
Katja looks up, “And peerfect legs, I could kees all night.”
Ellen giggles, “If you insist.”
Katya, “Eleven, we have to get up for six, go to sleep, kiss beautiful legs
tomorrow, you kiss them everyday anyway.”
Ellen, “One of my favorite things, and, um, who used to stare at them while I
worked in the donut shop?”
Katya, “I still stare at them.”

Forty Eight

“Well, he’s not an early riser.”

Girls are having coffee and donuts, it’s just seven. They have no reason to think
he’ll leave the house with the golf shop closed on Monday. But if the boyfriend has
a job, he may leave for work. Then the target is home alone.
Quarter to eight, the garage door rumbles up.
“Well, well, honey bunch has a day job,” a blue Toyota sedan backs out, it’s not
the target. He’s wearing a white shirt with a black tie.
Ellen, “Who wears a necktie in Destin?”
Katya, “Waiters, morticians, insurance salesmen, Jehovah’s Witnesses.”
“I don’t think there are gay Witnesses, not out anyway, but then I don’t know jack
about their religion.”
Katja, “Who gets to shoot?”
Ellen, “Can I do it, please? I’ll do anything sex thing you want, long as you want
it.”
Katja, “You do anything we want already.”
Ellen, “Well…yeah…but still.”
Katya, “He left garage door open. Maybe target is going someplace also. Door to
inside should be open.”
Ellen exits, walks down the street. It’s dead silent, must not be many kids, no one
waiting on a bus. One car passes, a woman and a kid in a car seat. Doesn’t matter,
Ellen isn’t Ellen, frumpy jeans, sweatshirt, boots, watch cap and fat sunglasses.
She turns down the driveway, five feet from the garage, the interior door opens and
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the target steps out. Her Glock is silenced, but she’s out in the open. Point and
shoot isn’t the best option.
“Hey mister, I was just comin’ to knock on the door, I am so flipping lost, my
phone is out of juice, got no idea where I am.”
“How did you get here?”
“Walked from some main road, I thought I could cut through this neighborhood,
but a bunch of streets are dead ends or those ones that just have a circle, whattaya
call ‘em?”
“Cu du sac.”
“Yeah, that.”
“I can give you a ride to where you came from, or do you know where you’re
going?”
“Beach, anyplace. I gotta find work, I can tend bar, waitress.”
“My partner is a waiter, his place is always looking for help. Destin is seasonal,
people go off in the winter when business and tips slow down.”
“Man, that would be so great.”
“Hop in, just leaving.”
He’s dead before he gets the keys in the ignition, she checks his wallet. There’s a
hundred bucks. She takes the money and cards, wipes prints from the wallet, leaves
it on the floor. How to get the garage door down from outside, the remote. In the
drive, she clicks it and the door starts down. Swipes it on her sweatshirt, tosses it
into the garage and walks to the waiting twins.
“Seemed like a real nice guy,” she reiterates the conversation.
Katja, “Nobody ees asshole all the time, now ees only eight o’clock, what to do?”
Katya, “Go home,” she pulls over to a closed minimart, backs the car in.
Katja gets out and changes the license plate. It’s a rental, but they didn’t keep the
rental plate on for obvious reasons. They lifted a plate in New Orleans, put it on
when they got to Florida. The likelihood of anyone taking down a plate for no
reason is ridiculously slim. There was no gunshot anyone heard. The car wasn’t
near the house and it’s a plain SUV, a Hyundai Santa Fe. Still, better to be
cautious.
“Car has been a good ride.”
Ellen, “Hyundai has a good reputation and a fantastic warranty, ten years a
hundred thousand miles, bumper to bumper.”
Katya, “When we get home, go online and buy one Ellen. Get the best.”
Ellen, “Glad you don’t like to shop, I get to do the girl stuff.”
Katya, “You have good taste, and know we don’t like things that are show off.”
“It’s good, we should keep a car in New Orleans.”
“We also need to find someone to look after the house when we’re gone. Find a
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college girl or something. She gets free room and board, has to clean, run errand,
like that. Has to be in town over the summer. We will also pay salary in cash, how
much?”
“For free room and board, a hundred a week?”
Katja, “We haf lots of money, what eef we pay two hundred?”
“For that you get a slave. I think we need a confidentiality agreement.”
Katja, “What ees confidential agreement?”
Katya, “It is a good idea. They sign a legal document saying they cannot talk about
anything that happens with us, nothing about what they do or we do, nothing about
the house or what’s in it. It is common with famous people, rich people. We are
rich people. Ellen, you will deal with. Find good lawyer, maybe ask Gerard, he will
know someone. Sister and I will go to Houston for a couple of days, maybe next
week. I need to collect our money and look over the shops.”
“I’ve been checking online, we have a video feed. They been opening on time,
keeping things clean, closing up tight. You have good managers and happy
employees, they don’t want to screw the pooch.”
Katja, “What ees screwing pooch?”
“A phrase, it means messing up, fucking around, being lazy.”
Katja, “Da, ees good, employees do not fuck dog.”
They collect their stuff, check out, they aren’t charged for the unused night. That
would be bad for business, particularly for guests who rented the Presidential suite
and spent big bucks at dinner.
The ride home is five hours, just far enough to be tedious, but they make it by three
with a short stop at a Subway.
Ellen unpacks everyone, they didn’t use much, most of it goes to drawers or
hangars. The rest to the laundry room. Katya cleans Ellen’s gun, then puts it and
the others away.
Ellen, “How’s chicken sound for dinner? I can bake or fry it, put together potatoes
and a salad.”
Katja, “No cooking, you did driving, laundry, enough. We will go to Irene Cuisine
at opening. We will not haf to wait.”
Ellen, “Cool, I’m gonna have veal marsala.”
“You haf every time.”
“And you always get soft shell crab.”
“Ees too good for passing up.”
Irene’s Cuisine is two blocks away, they’ve eaten there more than a dozen times.
Three hot girls, two of them twins, are memorable on their own. Good bottles of
wine, top shelf liquor and fat tips make them unforgettable.
“Katja, Katya, and Ellen, what a pleasant surprise, table right back corner
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downstairs. The customers can admire how you brighten up the place.”
Ellen, “Aw, Tommy, sooo sweet. If I wasn’t queer, you’d be my man.”
“Honey, if you weren’t queer, I’d go straight.”
They laugh, it’s their standard joke, they’re seated, no menus.
Waiter comes over, “Helloooo angels, the usual?”
Katja, “Da, yes, vodka first,” Irene’s stocks Russian Standard for them, and they
keep it cold, in a freezer actually.
Waiter, “Well of course vodka first, and here’s Chandelle with them now, chilled
double shots, teensy drop of orange bitters. Appetizers will be out in a bit, enjoy.”
They always get the same thing, two appetizers, paneed oysters, shrimp and
crabmeat gratin. Entrees, fish amandine with Mèuniere sauce, soft shell crab
battered and fried, served over pasta with crawfish sauce, and veal marsala, with
rich marsala sauce, mushrooms and the veg du jour. If soft shell is out of season,
then it’s roasted crispy duck with raspberry demi glace and pecans.
There is no bad dish on the menu, Irene’s has become an institution and has never
let its standards slip. In a food town like New Orleans, you aren’t good, you’re
closed.
Tommy comes over, “Everything good?”
Ellen, “Everything is always good, if I wasn’t such a good cook myself, we’d eat
here three nights a week.”
Tommy, “Menu isn’t that extensive, you’d get bored. But I got to say, it’s always a
day brightener when les trois perfections come in.”
Ellen, “Where’d you hear that?”
“EnVie, I go for a late breakfast sometimes. In this business, I’m never home
before two. I was telling Michael about three gorgeous girls who started showing
up, a set of bookend twins. He said, ‘You mean les trois perfections.’ French
Quarter’s a small place, lot of tourists, but not so many residents. We tend to know
each other.”
They take their time and enjoy but don’t linger, the place always has people
waiting, short walk home, nightcap in the courtyard. It’s wintertime, New Orleans
weather is like Houston, same latitude. Three days of cold, then warmer for a time,
rain, another icy blast. Tonight it’s maybe forty five.
“Glad we bought that heater, night like this, we’d have to stay inside.”
Katya, “Sister and I will fly to Houston so you can have a car here. The drive is
monotonous anyway, better to fly.”
Ellen, “Big airports are a bitch, glad we signed up with Blue Sky. Lakefront airport
here, straight to Sugarland there. No security checks, plane to car in a few steps.
After I drop you at the airport, I’m gonna go to University of New Orleans and get
them to post the job. Airport’s right by the school. Before I go to Tulane or Loyola,
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I’ll see what we find at UNO. We have a good gig for a college kid, and I don’t
need a flood of emails.”

Forty Nine

The twins are in Houston, Katja is running the circuit of shops, Katya goes to
collect their end of the fee.
Penny, “Job go okay? I haven’t seen jack on the news, guess I should check local
papers, but what will I find out, a guy got shot? You did shoot him?”
“Yes, I do not want to get into strangulation, or a knife to the throat. Gun kills with
a little distance. You said a woman paid, the target was gay.”
“How’d you find that out? Never mind, I don’t need to know. Probably an ex-wife
who didn’t take it well. He look like money?”
“Nyet, small house in common neighborhood, two year old car, an Infiniti mid
range, maybe he had more than he appeared to. Only had a hundred cash on him.”
“Lots of people don’t carry cash anymore, there are criminals who will take it.”
“I am criminal, but I take money and cards to make it seem like a common
robbery.”
Penny hands her an envelope, “Here’s your end. I got a call with an interest, they
got stuck on the price, he said he had to work on it. He’s got thirty, not fifty.”
“If he wants it, he will find twenty more, or he can try some street punk who will
screw it up or rat on him.”
“That’s pretty much what I told him, we left it open. I don’t even know who he
wants dead. I did give him the disclaimer, a cop or a name is twice as much. He
said it was nobody like that.”
Katya, “Call when there’s something to call about,” slides the packet in her pocket,
hops on the Vespa and goes home.
Katja is still visiting shops, “Where are you?”
“Number three, you coming here?”
“No reason to, I will check four so you can skip it, see you at home.”
Shops are fine, like Ellen said, they have video feed. Still, it’s better for the owners
to show a face. They have learned to compliment, nothing that comes naturally to
the twins. Morale is good, the girls have fun working, chat up the customers,
celebrate birthdays, dress for Halloween, Christmas and Easter. Free donut for any
kid with an A on the report card, simple pleasantries that customers line up for.
They have an afternoon to kill, kill it by Katya giving Katja an orgasm with her
talented tongue, and finish off with Katja strapping up and doing Katya.
They zone out for half an hour, hear vodka calling from the freezer.
While Katya pours shots, Katja calls Ellen in New Orleans, “What ees happen?”
 144

Ellen, “I went to the school, found the jobs people and filled out stuff. They post it
on a website. Emails started before I got home, I’m seeing three girls tomorrow.
One doesn’t have transportation. I told them we have parking here, but they gotta
get to and from school. The bus system here sucks, particularly down Elysian
Fields, then they have to walk here. There’s too much rain, hot in summer.”
Katja, “You will cover rules, maybe that will discourage some.”
“Yeah, no boys, no parties, no smoking, no dope. No pals come by to pee at Mardi
Gras or any other time. This is a job, they can’t do that stuff if they work at a hotel.
I listed that on the job posting. I don’t want to interview and find out they think
they’re getting a free Mardi Gras or Jazz Fest hangout for their pals. When we’re
gone, we have the floors video monitored and we check it”
Katja, “Okay, good enough. Shops are fine, girls happy, sister got our money. We
will stay for two days, work in shops, fly back Friday.”
“What if I find a good prospect, for the housekeeping thing?”
“Ees up to you Ellen, you like, hire her.”
Ellen grins, she loves it that the girls put so much trust in her. They took her in,
made her rich, shared generously, stay all over her and gave her something else she
loves, killing people.
Two days of Katya Donut, then flight back to New Orleans, Ellen’s there waiting.
“Hey babies, welcome, only gone four days and I miss you.”
Katja, “You haf hire girl?”
“Adorable little Thai bundle of energy. Sweet as praline candy, only a freshman,
plus she thinks I’m gorgeous, her exact words, ‘I can work for gorgeous movie
star.’
Katja, “She knows rules?”
“Yep, none of them cared, they’ll do anything to get out of a dorm. They were all
nice girls, too bad we don’t have a donut shop here. UNO is kind of a commuter
school, but they have a fair number of kids who come from elsewhere. Her parents
got busted in Thailand, bad news, drug charges. Dad died in prison, mom isn’t
getting out anytime soon. She’s been in the states since fourth grade. Lived with an
aunt in Mississippi, got a scholarship to UNO. Family doesn’t have money. Her
aunt is some kind of home care person, I didn’t get the impression she’s like a
nurse or anything.”
“Has she been to the house?”
“No, coming this afternoon.”
“She has a car?”
“Scooter, like yours.”
They get settled in, Ellen has lunch ready, simple cold cuts, slaw, chips.
“They feed you on the flight?”
 145

Katja, “Da, but we said only black tea and yogurt. Ees short flight, no reason for
beeg production.”
After lunch, Katya is upstairs on a laptop, Katja outside fiddling with the few
plants they have around, Ellen repots one.
“Gettin’ too big for that pot. We can get more plants now, have someone to look
after them when we’re gone. Be nice to have a buncha colors in the courtyard. I’m
gonna get us lavender for sure, smells so luscious.”
The doorbell chimes, Ellen answers, “Hi there, take the scooter around the side, I’ll
open the gate.”
She putts around the corner, pulls in and shuts down the engine.
“Mani, this is Katja, her sister is upstairs be down in a bit. It’s Mani Srisati, (prn.
see-sa-ti)
Mani, “So happy to meet you, you have such a beautiful courtyard, this place is all
yours?”
Katja, “Da, yes. House, courtyard and slave quarters. We do not haf slave, only a
name.”
Mani giggles, “I hope not. I’ve heard of them, common in the Quarter I think.”
Ellen, “Let’s take a look at the house. The slave quarters are empty, haven’t
figured out what to do with ‘em. Leave your shoes at the door, we have sandals for
you.”
A walk around downstairs, Mani is all big eyes, they go upstairs, Katya comes out
of her bedroom. Another introduction.
Mani, “Gosh, your home is splendid, so much room.”
Katya, “A lot to clean, we are not messy anyway, but we like it well kept and
orderly.”
Mani, “I understand.”
“Ellen has explained confidentiality agreement?”
“Yes, of course, absolutely. Your privacy is most important.”
“Da, good, she will want to see bedroom, we will be downstairs.”
Ellen, “Right up here, third floor, overlooks the courtyard. A little quieter, this part
of the Quarter isn’t noisy anyway.”
Mani, “Wow, this is great, it has a bathroom?”
“All the bedrooms have full baths.”
Mani, “Can I please have the job? Gosh, I will work really hard, you will not be
disappointed.”
Ellen, “We went over the duties the other day, it’s a lot. The house, errands, I do
most of the grocery shopping, but I will ask you to go for this and that. I can’t
think of every possible thing, so there may be something we haven’t discussed. It
won’t be illegal. I’m saying that if one of us asks, you do it. We know you’re in
 146

school, and we know you may want a social life. That’s fine, we’re pretty flexible.
If you can’t do something, say so, don’t screw up classes or study, okay?”
Mani, “That is most generous. I am studying languages, and I already know
English and Thai. I am taking Japanese and French, plus the basic maths and
English literature they require. I can do the maths already, English lit is
entertaining.”
“When do you want to come?”
“Anytime, I would love to get out of the dorm, this…,” her hand waves across the
room.
“Tomorrow is Saturday, you have time?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll be out at nine thirty with the SUV, will your stuff fit in that?”
She giggles, “My stuff could fit in a large suitcase.”
They go downstairs, Mani says, “Thank you so much for this. I, um, well I need to
tell you one thing…I want to be upfront. I am gay. No girlfriend or anything, did
not join the LGBT community thing on campus, I am not exactly out yet. I hope it
does not matter to you…”
Ellen laughs, Mani looks at her, Katja says, “Do not make ridiculous, we are all
lazebian girl, no boyfriend around here.”
Mani, “No way, smoking hot twins and smoking hot Ellen are….”
Katya, “We will haf tea now Ellen, you will show Mani the rest.”
Ellen takes her to the kitchen side of the big room. Downstairs is mostly one big
room, kitchen, dining, living. There’s a separate office, a half bath and the laundry
room.
The twins go to the courtyard, Ellen and Mani come along with the teapot and
cookies, set them on the patio table.
Katja, “You will haf tea also Mani. You will eat with us when you are here,
kitchen is open to you, take whatever you want. Work wiz Ellen until you are
familiar wiz house. Speak up when you haf something to say, ask question, ees
okay.”
Mani, “Sure, thank you, this is so nice. You have tea every day?”
“When we can. It is a nice break, downtime, have a snack, usually four thirty,
sometimes four or five. Cocktails at six thirty, Ellen will show you. She is the chef,
first rate cook. Sometimes go to favorite restaurants. If you have time, you are
welcome to come along.”
“I can go out to dinner with you?”
Ellen, “Yes, of course, just make sure to keep that nose in the books, or on the
screen. You gotta get good grades.”
Mani, “I like to study, school is easy. I do not know how I would do in something
 147

like computer science, or physics. But languages are pretty simple for me.”
Katya, “We have learned enough Japanese to be conversational. Just something
interesting for us.”
Mani, “Cool, I’m taking Japanese, can you guys work with me, a little, or should I
even ask?”
Ellen, “In a year, you’ll be teaching us. We do it part time off a language program.
Katya is the brain, she can read the kanji, not me.”
Mani has a sly smile, perfect white teeth, dark eyes, narrow face with silky smooth
lips. She’s maybe five three, slender as a rail.
Mani, “I should be going, need to get things organized. I am so excited, thank you
all so much.”
Ellen opens the gate, she buzzes off to the campus.
Katja, “She ees nice girl, cutie pie.”
“Told ya, she’s a heartbreaker. I had no idea about the gay thing, that was a
surprise.”
Katya, “Thai family, aunt probably thinks get married have kids, it is assumed. She
would not be able to come out at home. Not until she had a job and did not
anymore need family support.”

Fifty

Mani settles in, things are more balanced now. The twins aren’t smilers, Ellen and
Mani make up for it with high wattage cheerfulness.
Katja, “Ees good to hear Ellen laugh. We are serious, now she haf someone to
make joke wiz.”
Katya’s phone rings, “Da.”
Penny, “And da our new client found his fifty bucks. Feel like going to LA?”
“Send details the usual way, special circumstances?”
“Nope, straightforward.”
They click off.
Mani passes on her way upstairs, she’s getting used to girls in thigh length t-shirts,
knee socks in cold weather, like now. When she said it looked comfortable, Ellen
told her she could do the same.
Katya, “Ellen, we need to go to Los Angeles. You will stay here. Mani has only
been a week. We need to be have someone with her for a month. After that, she
will be okay on her own.”
“Sure thing, I got the fun last time, not like I need the money. You guys fixed that
forever.”
“We all fixed it forever, and the money for work goes into the common account,
 148

you get paid whether you go or not.”

Ellen steps to her, hands under the t-shirt, up her back, warm kiss, “You are too
good to me.”
“We are three equal sisters.”
Ellen gets misty, more kisses.
When Katya turns, Mani is on the bottom step, mischievous grin, “Sorry, didn’t
mean to…”
Katya and Katja go upstairs, Mani tells Ellen, “Those two have hot curves.”
Ellen, “The twins got hot everything.”
Mani looks up at her, “Hot girlfriend too.”
“Well, thank you sweet, you got your own thing goin’ on, another cutie in the
house. Makes life worth livin’.
Mani grins again, looks at Ellen out of the corner of her eye, isn’t disappointed,
she’s being checked out.
“Anything I need to do? I should get on the books, couple of hours. Beds are made,
I swiped around the baths, emptied wastebaskets. There’s not much laundry.”
“Go on then, get those As, twins are going out of town for business for a couple of
days.”
“What business are they in?”
“Donuts. They have four stores in Houston, fair amount of money in sugar bread.
They also specialize in conflict resolution and mediation. Lot of folks have issues
with someone. The twins find solutions.”
“Gee, you guys are all so young.”
“Over twenty one.”
“No way.”
“That’s what the driver’s license says.”
Mani heads to her room, Ellen watches her little wiggle. Halfway up she turns to
see if Ellen’s paying attention, isn’t disappointed. She smiles and waggles her
fingers in a wave, bounces up the steps.
It’s two days before they leave. Katya wanted to do more snooping on the target.
Hack the DMV, a year old Mercedes, two hundred grand car. She goes to Google
Earth, finds the house. Big sucker on a few acres, pool in back, three car garage.
Street View doesn’t have any pictures.
The target is a movie producer, not a brand name, but made enough at some point
to afford upscale. She finds the mortgage, ouch, he owes three million plus on a
three and a half million dollar property, and the car is leased at a few thousand a
month. This guy’s on a financial cliff, leaning way over the edge.
Katya tells Katja, “Man is drowning. Movie business, made a lot of money, spent
 149

it. Then movies do not do well, borrow money, hope for next big box office. Got a
wife and two kids, must be in private school someplace.”
“Maybe beeg insurance. Wife arrange to keel.”
“Penny said a man called, I wonder…”
Katja, “Bizarre.”
While the girls are off doing murder for hire, Ellen takes Mani shopping. The girl
wears basically the same outfit, which makes sense, she only had one large
suitcase, a computer, android and a box of books. Ellen takes her to Macy’s.
Mani, “I can’t afford clothes from here, I can barely afford Wal-Mart. I mean, you
are paying me well, but it will take a while before I save enough.”
“You aren’t paying, we are. You gotta have more stuff than a few pairs of jeans,
coupla t-shirts and a jacket. Just try it on.”
Four new dresses, two pairs of platforms, new sneakers, half dozen pullovers and
three blouses later, Mani says, “This is more clothes than I’ve ever owned.”
“Let’s get panties, you need knee socks in your size. Coupla pair skinny jeans and
a nice belt. And, it’s winter, need a decent coat.”
They find it all, nice middle weight ankle length coat, “You be stylin’ baby, that
coat is cool on you, makes you look all hip elegance.”
Mani is admiring herself in the mirror, “Look at me, I’m…amazing,” she giggles,
“and humble.”
“Okay, we shot the afternoon, time to go home, you gotta study.”
On the way back Ellen stops at the cleaners and has most of the clothes dry
cleaned. First time dry cleaning helps set the colors even on washables. At home,
while Mani is digging into French, Ellen washes the socks and panties, totes the
shoe boxes to the girl’s room.
She goes to her room, strips, hangs up her stuff, takes a warm shower. After drying
her hair, she heads down to the kitchen, it’s near six thirty, time for a cocktail.
With a chilled vodka in one hand, turns the sound system to trance, low enough so
it doesn’t carry upstairs.
Thinks to herself, “What to do for dinner?”
She rummages around the refrigerator, ah, salad fixings aplenty, and tomato soup.
Add slices of sharp cheddar and we’re good to go she thinks. Soup in the pot to
warm, chops up romaine, purple cabbage, adds radishes and a cucumber, tahini
dressing. Cut the cheddar at the last minute.
Mani walks over, “Awesome legs.”
“My girls think so, glad you enjoy them.”
“Is, um, touching permitted?”
“All you want where you want.”
Mani bites her lower lip, hands reach hips, slide down, she sinks down with them.
 150

“I…don’t have much experience with this..like none really.”

“Do what seems natural, it’s hard to do wrong.”
“Kissing is permitted?”
“Baby, kissing is required, then licking, slow and gentle, take your time.”
She’s all over Ellen’s legs, just like Katja. Eventually she works her way to the
ero-zone. For a girl with no experience, she’s a fast learner, or at least watched
enough girl-girl porn to get a few ideas.
Ellen’s simmering, looking down on the adorable eyes looking up at her, head in a
‘yes’ motion, tongue busy on the right spot.
“Aaahhhh…that’s it angel…faster….got it…oooohhhh, stop, keep everything right
where it is.”
She holds the girl’s head against her, hips undulate, gasp of release.
“Sheeyt, that was sensational. Really your first taste?”
Mani beams, “And it was you, God I am so lucky. That was…yummy, better than
my fantasies. I am all wet.”
“Ooh, we need to take advantage of that. Switch places.”
Mani, “You mean…you are going to…?”
She can’t say anything else, something is happening that feels so incredible she
can’t construct a complete thought. So worked up, Ellen’s only on her for a couple
of minutes before she shudders and shakes, a screech of ecstasy.
She sinks down to Ellen, they roll to the floor kissing, Mani has discovered erotic
passion.
Ten minutes later, “Guess we need to get off the floor. Want a drink?”
Mani, “I have only had wine.”
“White or red?”
“It does not matter.”
Ellen pops open a cold Graves white, pours them each a glass, they go to the
couch. Mani snuggles next to her, wine in one hand, Ellen’s thigh under the other.
“I have pleasured myself before, I watched lesbian porn, that’s when I decided to
Brazilian. I never had a girl, not like that. I kissed one, in high school, but we
didn’t do anything. I was afraid.”
“Don’t need to be afraid around here. You want a girl, pick one and have at it.”
“The twins, they are…available?”
“Wouldn’t be long before Katya came for you, she’s not shy. You need to
understand them. They are direct. It sounds like they are telling not asking, but that
isn’t how they mean it. If you say no or not now, they won’t be offended.”
“Glad you told me, glad I can…I mean, it’s okay with you?”
“Mani, we don’t own people here,” she laughs, “Although I like to think I belong
to them, being their property is a turn on for me. My weirdness.”
 151

Mani, “This is….,” she laughs, hand over her mouth, “I don’t know, it seems like
play.”
“It is play, that’s the whole point, besides, orgasms are healthy, good reason to
have a lot of ‘em.”

Fifty One

While Ellen spends the next couple of days enjoying the Thai treasure, who turns
out to be near insatiable sexually, Katya and Katja are stalking Freddie Palmer.
He’s a once major film producer, if one winner makes you major, who confused
good luck with talent. He took a script nobody wanted, hired a child actress that
had never made so much as a commercial. The little girl was naturally animated
and adorable, he didn’t create any of it, she had it already. That led to the
inevitable delusion that he had an eye for good but overlooked scripts and
undeveloped talent.
The next one made money, not a lot but not a failure. He swung for the fences,
blew twenty million of investor money on a dud, followed by a lower budget break
even. Still, he was getting paid well enough, thus the accumulation of big house,
pricey car, private schools. Then three losers and his funding dried up. He was
smart enough not to self finance, but his family’s lifestyle burned cash like a
crematorium. That led to refis on the house that sucked out the equity and the drain
of a rich auto lease formerly paid for with money investors put towards the films.
He’s at home much of the time, old associates don’t return calls. They treat him
like he’s got Ebola, as if just being seen with him was toxic. He had to golf by
himself, then gave up the expensive club membership.
Katya’s digging revealed a divorce, no kids by second marriage. Ex got a bundle
and child support. Freddie’s been in a death spiral.
The garage door opens, a second Mercedes backs out. An attractive woman in what
might be a tennis outfit, headband and sunglasses, drives off. The garage door
stays up. The gate opens, Katya sees her chance, the woman pulls out, takes a left,
the gate begins to close, but not before Katya slips their sedan in and down the
drive to the house.
They are seated in Freddie Palmer’s office. It’s a strange looking scene, two girls,
they aren’t identical today, sitting with drawn guns and latex gloves on their hands.
Palmer is seated at his desk, calm as a pond on a windless day.
Freddie, “Two assassins, Russian?”
“Da,” they don’t bother with the technicality of Belarus, they lived briefly in both
countries.
 152

“And why the chat?”

Katya, “Normally, we just do the job and go home. But your case made me
wonder. You have next to nothing but debts. Big child support, big check to first
wife. Who wants you dead? You die, nobody gets paid. So, I wondered, the only
person who is better off with you dead is you, or you have a sizable insurance
policy.”
Palmer smiles, “I should have been my next film, you two could star. I thought I
was smart, could spot a script, make it work. What I found out is what everyone in
this business finds out sooner or later, most of it is pure luck, good or bad. There is
no reliable formula for predicting box office, certainly not critical reviews. Not that
they matter, film gets good buzz, what critics say is almost immaterial. Butts go in
seats, everybody makes money.”
Katya, “So what is it, insurance?”
He grins, “You are the world’s slickest assassin, I guess, never met any assassins,
not real ones. Yeah, five mil. Goes to the second, fuck the first, and fuck my kids.
They hate me. You don’t care about back story.”
“Actually, I do. You are correct, we do not generally. Why someone wants
someone dead is not our concern. It gets into judgments and confuses the issue. We
are hired to make a person dead, they die.”
Palmer, “Cold, you kill women?”
“We kill people, women are people.”
“What if it’s a kid, some teenager?”
“Teenagers are people too. We would not kill anyone under maybe twelve. But
teenagers are obnoxious, I can think of lots of reasons to kill them.”
Palmer flinches, then reconsiders, “What am I repulsed by? My teenagers are the
most obnoxious little assholes on the planet. The girl is worse than her brother,
neither of them are worth the air they breathe. If I’d had known you would do it, I
would have hired you to off them.”
“Would not have hurt to ask, but it is, what do they say? Blood under the bridge
now.”
“Yeah, and the first person they’d look to would be me. Anyway, I hired you, be
stupid to hire someone to kill me that could be talked out of it.”
“We do not have moral issues, we are what the doctors call sociopaths. We put our
antisocial personalities to profitable use. It is not something we do for fun, we do it
for money,” she looks at Katja, “we have a partner, she’s busy and could not make
this one, she does it for fun, she likes it.”
Palmer, “Christ, it gets better and better. You realize you have a winner script here.
We could make millions.”
“Well, you are the expert, and you just told us there is no way to guarantee that.
 153

Besides, we have already millions. Risking money for a movie has no point. And it
outs us, since you would know.”
“There’s that, so what now?”
The twins stand, Katja says, “Now you get what you haf pay for, except first you
will give us second twenty five thousand. You are client and the target.”
Palmer, “Well, see, that’s a problem. I figured I’m dead, who’s gonna pay? So I
don’t have the second payment.”
“Ees okay, we are going to kill you anyway. Trophy wife must have a load of
jewelry, we will take your Mercedes to a chop shop. Make out better than twenty
five.”
“God I wish I could make one more movie, you guys have it practically written for
me.”
They both shoot, he’s twice as dead.
Will forensics figure out two shooters from two differently scored bullets? Almost
impossible, that’s TV stuff. The bullets they use, hollow points, break up hitting a
skull. Both guns are Glock 19s, shoot nine millimeter bullets, and the fragments in
the head could be from either one.
On the way out of town, they steal a license plate and swap it out, drop the original
plate in a dumpster.
Katya, “Drive the speed limit.”
The trip is uneventful, after you pass San Bernardino, it’s I-10 all the way to
Houston. Aside from a long slog through Phoenix, most of it is desert.
Katya, “El Paso is just over halfway, stop there, it will be almost midnight. I’ll find
a hotel, we can finish tomorrow.”
They swap out driving, get a nap, aside from gas and tea, they keep moving. Katya
pull into a Hampton at eleven, they are asleep by midnight. Breakfast at the hotel
buffet, back on the road, home in Houston by seven that evening.
Katja checked in with Ellen twice, calls again now.
“Hey honey, you guys tireda drivin’ I expect.”
“Dullest drive possible. We are in Houston, take care of beezness tomorrow
morning, fly to New Orleans at two, you will pick us up.”
“I’m gonna let Mani use the car for class tomorrow, she’s done by two and the
school is right by the airport. I’ll cook up a mean dinner and you can relax.”
“You haf made sex wiz Mani?”
“Not a virgin anymore. Once she got the vibe, she wants it all the time.”
“She never haf sex wiz girl, or boy?”
“Nope, boys don’t exist. Her culture made it hard for her to be open about it. Here,
she hasn’t gotta think of all that, just go for it. Girl’s wearin’ me out, in a good
way.”
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“Sisters will help, she takes care of herself?”

“Squeaky clean, a Brazilian, she caught the idea from watching lez porn, bald as
we are.”
“Da, good.”
“We are going for Chinese, come home and make sex. Katya ees feeling excite.”
She clicks off, Ellen stares at the dead phone, laughs.
Mani comes down the steps, “What is so funny?”
“Katja, but it could have been Katya as well. When you talk to either of ‘em on the
phone, when they are done talking, they just hang up. No bye, or see you, or gotta
go, they just go. And when they answer their phone, it’s ‘da.’ No hello, even
though your name is on the caller ID.”

Fifty Two

Mani collects the twins, “Welcome home. Ellen is going all out for dinner, she is
happy you are back.”
Katja, “You haf enjoy Ellen, she ees sweet girl.”
Mani, “She is perfect,” exactly what she finds just perfect is left unsaid.
Ellen, “My babys, kisses,” she hugs them, the twins are used to Ellen’s enthusiastic
affection, in their own way touched by it.
Mani starts to take the suitcases, the twins travel pretty light, but the Glocks are in
them, extra clip, ammunition.
Katja, “Here, take one, I will take the other,” they get to the room, “Just leave
there, I will unpack later. Go downstairs and see what Ellen needs.”
She hops out, Katja removes the guns, brings them to the safe. She empties the
suitcase, brings things downstairs to the laundry room.
“Mani, you can do laundry whenever, I leaf toiletries on the bathroom counter, put
away suitcase later, da?”
“Sure thing.”
It’s four thirty, tea time. They take it in the courtyard. Ellen sits with the twins
while Mani does the preparation and serves. Then she joins them.
Katja, “Tea ees good Mani, Ellen makes chocolate cookie like we haf in donut
shops.”
Mani, “She showed me, they’re simple, but really good. I snuck one earlier.”
Ellen, “Tonight a twins favorite, grilled filet mignon with marchand de vin,
creamed spinach ala Emeril, Brabant potatoes with grilled mushrooms. White cake
with French vanilla icing for dessert, I confess to buying that. It seemed right to
have white, like a virgin.”
Mani laughs, “No more virgin.”
 155

Katja, “How do you like no more veergin?”

“Amazing, I mean, gee, finally. I couldn’t risk it in Mississippi, high school, kids
talk. My aunt would have lost it. I just got to college, first semester was a blur, then
I came here.”
Katja, “No boys ask you for dating?”
“It was more a few people together, like four of us from the dorm would go for
pizza or whatever. Some girls were anxious to hook up, I never gave that vibe. I
just sort of dodged it. There is one guy, black, he’s obnoxiously persistent. I saw
that in high school, some of the black guys would not let it go.”
Ellen, “I had that at my high school. We had more Hispanics, they were a little
easier to deal with. I thought about college, but I got Katya and Katja instead.
Much better.”
“My aunt will fuss if I skip college. She was strict, complained a lot, but she took
care of me. House was clean, I did not get a lot of new clothes or toys, but I got
fed, hot bath, my own bed.”
Katya, “Finish college. We were lucky, found a way to make money by starting
business. We made other investments. There were two of us, then Ellen, so we
could all work together.”
Mani takes up the cups and plate of cookies, “I need to get the table set, start the
laundry, oh, and the toilets. I’ll do that first.”
She scoots off.
Ellen, “We couldn’t talk biz on the phone, so, how did it go?”
Katya runs down the conversation with Freddie Palmer.
“Damn, it could be a movie, our lives would make a great flick.”
Katja, “You can write book.”
Ellen, “Never thought of it, maybe. So anyway, then what?”
We search the house, no safe, found a thousand dollars, took all the jewelry.
We took his car, stole a license plate and replaced his. Penny knows how to get it
sold and how to fence the jewelry. Long drive, but it is nice car. We unplug the
GPS, nobody will know where it came from and when car people are done, it will
not look the same. They sell it in Mexico. With jewelry, we will make more than
the twenty five he did not have. Stealing it and the car makes it look like a
common robbery.”
Ellen, “Works for me, cept you had the long drive, fifteen hundred miles isn’t
down the street.”
Katya, “You have Mani trained?”
“She learns with a look, bad as you with that memory.”
Mani, “Dear darling Ellen bought me the cutest outfits. She said I looked like a
refugee. I kinda did. The only small problem is boys noticing now. The platforms
 156

and the gorgeous coat she got me has my former roommate jealous, but in a
friendly way. Elton is pesky.”
Katja, “Who ees Elton?”
Ellen, “That’s the can’t take no for an answer black guy.”
Mani, “He’s starting to get obnoxious. First he was all smiles and charm. I tried
being nice, conversational, let him know there was no date, no lunch, no coffee, no
nothing. Got his ego bruised I guess. Now it’s turning into, ‘hot shit Thai bitch.’
Ellen, “When was that honey, you didn’t say anything to me.”
“Just today, we haven’t had time with the twins home. I didn’t think of it until
now.”
Katja, “He is big deal person?”
Mani, “Not especially. The girls who are curious about black guys like his shit.
He’s a nice looking guy, built, like muscular. If I was into guys, I could see it,
except he’s also a jerk. I get the impression he’s on a white or Asian girl crusade.
The black girls at school are totally jealous.”
Ellen, “Cause he isn’t into them.”
“Exactly.”
Katja, “When do you run into him?”
“In English lit, he sure isn’t taking Japanese, brain isn’t that big.”
“When do you haf that one?”
“That one…oh, the class, nine to ten, Monday, Wednesday, Friday.”
Katja drops it, moves one to complimenting dinner, “Ellen is best chef. Katya and I
luf steak, grill cheeken, sometimes she makes grill sausage into poor boy sandwich
wiz sautéed ohnyon, peppers.”
Ellen, “Hadn’t done those in a while, this weekend. Grill up everything in the
courtyard, get blitzed on beer and vodka.”
Mani, “That will be fun, a girl party.”

Fifty Three

Monday, Mani heads to class at eight thirty. At nine twenty Katja and Katya take a
ride to the UNO campus, park a discreet distance from the liberal arts complex and
wait until nine fifty.
They exit, walk to the building, ask for the English literature class, a coed points to
the second floor, gives a room number. Up the steps, Katja takes one end of the
walkway, Katya the other. Naturally they don’t resemble Katya and Katja, they
resemble students. Bulky long coats, sneakers, Katja has a ball cap and sunglasses,
hair tucked inside her jacket. Katya pretty much the same except she has a watch
cap pulled low over her ears. It’s not freezing, but it’s chilly and the wind comes
 157

across Lake Pontchartrain at a brisk clip.

Doors open, students flood the hallway. They see Mani, right behind her a black
man. Older for an undergrad, twenty three or four at least, and sizeable, six one or
two. He’s talking and he doesn’t look happy.
They head to Katya’s side, she goes down the stairwell, Katja is behind them. At
the bottom, Mani picks up the pace now that the student crush has thinned. Black
guy is stalking. He grabs her arm.
Katya’s close enough to hear, “Fuck, hol’ up. Elton show you a good time, why
you gotta go all uppity. Jus’ relax, I be good to my girls.”
Mani, “Then go be good to them, you got so many, please leave me alone.”
Elton, “Ain’t like that. Elton likes a challenge, I think you jus’ needin’ a little
nudge, I got a big nudger.”
Mani, “Eeeww, gross, go away,” she turns, he grabs her arm, “Don’t be turnin’
your back on Elton, bitch.”
She shrugs her arm out of his grip, runs down the walkway to the building next
door.
Elton mumbles, “Gonna have to get serious. Elton make a play, they don’t get
away.”
He strides off in the opposite direction. He’s got company he doesn’t know about.
Katya, “Get the car, he may be driving someplace.”
Katya follows, he’s in the same lot they are. His car’s not pimped out, but it’s
leaning in that direction. Cadillac something, black, flash rims. Bass pumps
through the closed window soon as he cranks up.
Katja pulls up, Katya gets in. Elton’s still got company.
He’s headed down Elysian Fields. If he went all the way, he’d be at the back of the
French Quarter, but he doesn’t get that far. He takes a right on Claiborne, pulls into
a chicken place. It’s early, ten thirty, there’s no lunch crowd to speak of. His is the
only car in the small strip of parking places out front.
He comes out with a box of chicken and a drink. Drink goes on top of the car while
he opens the door. He takes the drink and starts to slide in. Katya kicks him in the
side, hard, he slams down to the seat, drink and chicken fly all over the roof and
hood. She kicks him again, his head smashes the doorframe, her Glock is in his ear.
“Get in.”
He feels the gun, hears the hammer click, he slides in. In the passenger seat is
someone else with a Glock pointed at him. The driver’s door slams.
Katja, “Back out, nice and easy, take a right.”
“Fuck this about, I ain’t fuckin’ goin’ no place.”
She shoots him in the left knee, he howls, “Fuck, you fuckin’ crazy?”
“Yes, drive and live, or die here.”
 158

He decides to drive.
She directs him to a still empty leftover Katrina wreck. Houses on Iberville and
Bienville in this stretch of town had been deteriorating for years before the storm.
Katrina did them a favor. Most demolished in the flood, some rebuilt, some still
half standing all these years later. Short driveway in front, small garage, the door is
up, the house gutted. Since nobody's paid property tax on the places for years, the
city can't figure out who owns them and they sure didn't have flood insurance. 
“Inside.”
He balks, she shoots his dashboard, the sound system isn’t going to work ever
again.
“Fuck, that’s a thousand dollar system.”
“Not anymore, drive in.”
He does.
“Now you gonna tell me what the fuck this is about. I don’t know you, what’s your
bitch, bitch?”
Katja breaks his nose with the butt of the Glock, “Shut up.”
Blood drips over his lip, he’s dizzy.
Katya pulls in the drive. Passersby can’t see in the garage now. She opens his door,
pulls him out, Glock under his chin, she sticks her knee deep into his groin. While
he’s doubled over, she does it again, then a hard knee to his jaw. Teeth snap
crackle and pop.
She waits until he’s done dry heaving, good thing he didn’t get to eat the chicken.
Katya, “Listen and listen like you life depends on it. You will drop out of school,
you will never go to the campus again, ever, in this or any future life. Just
disappear.”
Katja has his car registration and digs out his driver’s license, makes a note of the
address and the plate on his car. She fishes around in the trunk, in the wheel well
are packages of crack.
“We know your name and where you live. Don’t make me come for you. You
won’t see me, you won’t hear me, you won’t even experience me, a hollow point
in your head will make a mess of your brain, you can’t afford to lose any more
neurons.”
He blinks, he’s fuzzy, but he heard, “Who sent you, PJ? Some-a them black
bitches.”
“Black girls don’t like you Elton, they don’t like you at all. They sent some white
bitches to redirect you. Personally, I don’t give a shit who you hit on, but black
girls, they got prejudices. We hire out to who pays, they come to us, we go to you.
It’s business. More important is we don’t see or hear about you on that or any other
campus anymore. They call me again, I come for you. Am I clear, or are you
 159

dead?”
Elton, “Jus’ goin’ to meet hoes, I got my own thing. Don’t need no classes.”
“Good to hear. Now, as a reminder,” she puts one in his foot.
He’s on his ass, standing is a problem, Katja shot his left knee, Katya his right foot.
Katja, “We haf his drugs, spread them around, kill him, looks like drug deal gone
bad.”
Elton, “No! I….”
Katya puts one in his forehead, Elton’s days of jiving the ladies are over. The twins
drive home.
Ellen, “Get him out of it?”
“He ees not anymore problem, for anyone.”
Ellen grins, “Wish I’da seen it.”
“We do not say anything to Mani.”
“What if it gets back to her that he’s…expired?”
“She haf no idea we own gun. Just leesten to her, black guy, black neighborhood,
you don’t know anything. Story will be of robbery, bad drug deal. Elton ees selling
drugs, I find een trunk.”
Ellen, “Thanks for taking care of it, she don’t need that shit, she’s just a kid trying
to get an education.”

Fifty Four

Story makes the six o’clock news, but Ellen doesn’t mention it, she spotted it on
the local channel website. It will be all over the campus, better she hears it from
there. More distance for the twins.
“Next time, take out your phone and start the video, if he comes up, let him start
his bullshit, then stick the camera in his face so it is clear who it is, tell him to
leave you alone, no means no, say it like that and say it loud, other people will
hear. The school won’t want the liability, they will deal with him.”
Mani, “I wish I had thought of that in the first place. What if he grabs the phone or
something?”
Katya, “Cannot fix everything. That’s assault. If you are able, kick him hard in the
balls. Then punch him in the throat, not the face, the throat. Face and skull are
hard, you will only hurt hand. If you cannot, you must scream at him to leave you
alone. Try not to be anyplace by yourself, always other people around.”
“I have to walk to the parking lot.”
“Security guards at school?”
“Yes, campus security.”
 160

“Then say boy is bothering and you want escort to parking lot. They will go with
you.”
She sighs, “Such a pain, but I am glad for the advice.”
She won’t have to, not with Elton, but the advice applies to any situation with a
persistent pest. Cute thing like Mani, it could soon enough be another jerk.
Mani looks around, tea is over, there doesn’t seem to be dinner prep, Ellen usually
has something going by now.
“Are we ordering out?”
Ellen, “Nope, going out, Bon Ton on Magazine Street. We could walk, but it’s
windy, chilly and may rain. Just your skinny jeans or one of the casual dresses,
gonna need your coat.”
Mani, “Never been there.”
“Best seafood in the city, an exaggeration, lots of seafood joints are great in New
Orleans. We like this one, lunch or dinner.”
“Then a long bath, maybe with a glass of wine since I cannot drink at the
restaurant.”
Ellen, “We have a little gift, a driver’s license that says you are twenty one eight
months ago.”
She grins, then smiles her dazzler, “So cool! Where did you get the photo?”
“Katya took it while you were coming down the stairs, Photoshopped it onto a blue
background.”
“I am wicked, I play the part of sweet college girl because it gets me what I want.
Everyone wants to help the charming bubbly Thai Barbie.”
Katya, “Worked on Ellen, on us for that matter.”
She grins mischievously, “I am good at it. I learned from manipulating my aunt. A
necessity to avoid the back of her hand. I would have offed her, but I needed the
money and place to live.”
Ellen, “Oh come one, you couldn’t kill nobody.”
Mani, “Elton was top of the list. I do not have a gun, do not know how to use one,
knife is guesswork and messy. And people knew I was being bothered by him, I
would be a suspect.”
Katja, “Good thinking. Never retaliate when you can be even maybe suspect. Only
eef you haf peerfect alibi.”
Mani hops up the steps and disappears.
Find out more about her interests, does she want to learn to shoot. Go slow, do not
imply or suggest, do not press it. It has to come from her.”
Ellen, “On it, we taking in a partner?”
“No way to tell, it is probably talk. Bring up shooting next week, offer to go to a
range with her. No mention of Houston, do not tell her we have guns. Use
 161

something from wherever you go, if you go.”

“And if she’s not interested, drop it.”
“Da, yes. She must be already killer, we do not make her one.”
“Think she’s really a bad girl acting like a good one?”
Katya, “She might think so. Everyone is more than one person only. You are killer
one day, then sweet girl who cares for twins the next. Nobody is constant, no,
what’s the word?…consistent.”
Ellen, “That’s true, never occurred to me before. You’re a real psychology lesson
baby girl.”
Vodka shots poured, Ellen shoots the first, she pours a second round for sipping.
Opens a bottle of cabernet and takes a glass to Mani.
“Here you go Thai Barbie.”
She slips on a chemise and shoes, nothing else, grabs her long coat, “Okay, now
we can get going, want me to drive?”
A six minute trip, Ellen drops them at the entrance and pulls off to find a parking
spot. As she’s about to drive off, an SUV pulls away a half block behind her. She
backs up and cuts into the space.
The restaurant is two thirds full, it’s primarily a busy lunch spot and, like anyplace,
prices are higher on the dinner menu. Vodka shows up just as Ellen sits.
“Got lucky, somebody pulled out behind me, car’s right up the street.”
Mani, “Good, it looks like rain.”
“I have an umbrella in the coat.”
Katja’s become a crawfish bisque junkie, Katya likes turtle soup, Ellen goes for
shrimp and okra gumbo, Mani has the same. She also tries a spoon of Katja’s
bisque.
“Oh God, that is spectacular, so rich, I’m getting that for the main course.”
Fried shrimp, oysters and speckled trout for entrees. In New Orleans they know
how to fry seafood, crispy crunch outside and grease free inside.
Mani is enthused, “I never knew this place existed, hardly came downtown.”
Ellen, “You didn’t do the French Quarter?”
“Once, there was not much point, too young to get into bars, no money for fine
dining, or even casual dining. UNO has a decent enough cafeteria, I ate there. The
Quarter was just more guys trying to hit on me and I was not about to take a drink
from them.”
Katya, “Mardi Gras is coming up soon.”
“We gonna stay here?”
“Da, yes, we will have to look after house and it is no good to have Mani there
alone. The event runs for two weeks, not just one day.”
Ellen, “I’m gonna stock up, cook, we’ll hide out at home until the storm passes.
 162

It’s two weekends and Mardi Gras day shot, the other parades are at night.”
Mani, “Do the parades go in the French Quarter?”
“No, just on Canal Street and down St. Charles Avenue. But people pack the
Quarter, mostly up front, where we live isn’t the tourist area.”
Mani, “I’m glad you aren’t leaving.”
Ellen, “Where you are home by yourself, pay attention to what’s around you. Open
the gate with the remote, get in and get it closed. If there are people on the street,
make sure they get a block away first, less it’s an old lady. That gate’s heavy,
nobody is getting’ in through that sucker. The exterior doors are all steel painted to
look like wood, the deadbolts are stainless steel Medeco Maxum, top rated. There
are interior and exterior video cams, never open the door or the gate without
checking and if you don’t recognize them, don’t answer the door at all. The street-
side windows are bulletproof on all floors, downstairs the windows also have
retractable steel covers, click the switch, they slide right into place.”
Mani, “I practiced with the remote, I can get the gate to open from a half block
away. Did not know the windows are bulletproof, they look like windows.”
“It cost a bundle, but we don’t have to worry about a guy with a hammer or one
with a gun. We keep the curtains closed in front, people walk by it’s too big a
temptation to peek in.”
Mani grins, “And if they spot you in there naked, a crowd will gather.”
“My strip show is for a very small audience, no cover, no minimum.”
They wrap up dinner, Ellen takes a look outside while Katja pays the tab, just
starting to mist. She has the Hyundai waiting when they come out, home in
minutes.

Fifty Five

De-clothe to t-shirts, they have nightcaps in the living area.

They wake as they slept, Katya in Mani’s bed, Ellen in the twins’ room. Mani
blinks awake, turns to see Katya sleeping, smiles to herself. Rolls out of bed, class
today, need to get going. Quick shower, into jeans, shirt, sneakers, takes her coat.
Ellen is in the kitchen, back to the stairs, Mani takes a moment to appreciate the
vision.
Ellen, “Coffee’s ready, and I picked up rolls and stuff from the bakery.”
Mani steps behind her, takes a minute to fondle, Ellen turns for a kiss.
“Katya have fun?”
Mani, “She is ravenous, I did her for the longest, then she jumped me again, it was
great.”
 163

“Wait’ll you get ‘em both.”

“You gotta get movin’, take one of the cars today, it’s cold and looks like more
rain.”
Mani puts together coffee in a covered styro cup, wraps a donut in a paper towel,
kiss for Ellen and she’s out.
Katja’s up, has tea while Ellen has a second cup of coffee.
“Sister ees decide to move to New Orleans more permanent. Weather ees the same
as Houston, she ees more relax here, city ees take it easy, what do they call it?”
“Big Easy.”
“Da, beeg easy.”
“What do you do with Katya Donut?”
“Nothing, we can monitor from here.”
“Want to open here?”
“Nyet, enough for beezness, good for cash washing.”
Ellen smiles, “Money laundering.”
“Da. We may buy property here, in French Quarter, renovate and rent or sell. Only
for something to do. You did good job on this place, maybe you will do again.”
Ellen brightens, “Sure, I’ll do it, I could get into that. Start with something smaller
than this place please. I wanna get my feet on the ground. We live here, rental
property is different, don’t dress it up like our place. Renovate to sell is another
matter. We got top drawer appliances, the windows and doors are specialty items,
flooring fix was expensive, painted everything and put in all new bath fixtures. It
doesn’t much resemble the interior when we bought it.”
Katja, “You will find a place, no rush, take a long look.”
“I’ll bring up the gun thing next week. Right now she’s giddy with girls and she’s
bound to find out Elton is out of the picture, maybe today.”
“Up to you, eef you decide to let the gun part slide, ees okay also.”
“We don’t do that much killing, is there room for another on the payroll?”
“Penny wants to do more, she says we could double beezness, haf of world want to
keel other haf. Katya held back because we were doing New Orleans.”
“I see it, ‘longs I get to go on jobs sometimes, I like pullin’ the trigger.”
“There will be good beezness for everyone. For now, start real estate project.”
Ellen smiles, this is too much fun, the girls are giving her more responsibility, she
thinks, I gotta get it right, I’m gonna talk to that decorator, she might know who’s
who. Then I’ll fish around a couple real estate agents, Quarter specialists, see
who’s the biggest liar.
Ellen is street smart enough to know, when it’s money, people will say and do
damn near anything. She determines to listen to a fair number of real estate types,
look for a trusted source of information.
 164

Katya comes along, time to get her girls fed.

“Tea’s there, I got donuts and rolls from the bakery, do you want eggs?”
“No, sit and have coffee, rolls are fine, big dinner last night. And a light lunch
today, or nothing if you are going to work on property project.”
Ellen, “May’s well get cranking, thought I’d chat with the decorator, she seemed
savvy on the Quarter and she’ll smell more commissions. Then I’ll talk to a couple
agents that work the area. Thought I’d try to find a local expert to advise,
somebody that isn’t buying or selling.”
Katya, “Good idea. Then we will worry about lunch, sounds like you will be out
most of the day.”
“Lemme get dressed and make some calls,” she’s up the stairs, better to go out in
actual clothes.
Katya, “Ellen is more valuable every day. She does what she’s told, and does it
well.”
“She ees happy to haf us. We gave her millions and took her as lover and family.
She even found a play buddy for herself.”
Katya, “And for us, Mani is a willing student, she will want you to take her next.
Wait a few days, she will be your puppy to train.”
“We haf good girls to make sex, still ees best wiz sister,” they kiss, feed each other
bites of cinnamon roll.
Ellen comes down, “Called Sherry, the decorator, we’re meeting for lunch. I also
made an appointment this morning to see places with a realtor and started looking
for an independent consultant. Gonna meet the real estate woman in half an hour,
just two blocks over.”
The phone rings, Ellen clicks on, “Hey honey…wait, slow down, what? No shit,
ain’t that a kick in the head? I’m sure glad for you sweet. Got a bit of news myself,
we’ll talk this afternoon, get to class now, bye sweetie.”
“Apparently Elton got himself dead. Mani’s so happy, giggly about his terminal
encounter with drug dealers.”
Katya, “He deserved it.”
“Well, darlins, I gotta meet a real estate shark, let’s see who can out lie who in this
town.”

Fifty Six

The twins go to EnVie for lunch, Michael waves, “Les Trois…wait, only les deux
perfections, where is Miss Ellen?”
Katja, “She ees looking for property.”
“In the Quarter?”
 165

“Da, yes, we are making maybe investment.”

“Let me give you a name, finance prof at Tulane but also the local expert on all
kinds of real estate. I know him, he can tell you the going square foot rate,
commercial, residential, whatever.”
He writes the name, Edwin Walton, hands the slip of paper to Katja, “What are you
having today? You usually come for breakfast.”
Katja, “Shepard’s omelet, Katya will haf steak and chiz panini, sugar-free
raspberry sodas.”
He spritzes seltzer over raspberry flavoring, drops in ice, hands the drinks to Katja,
“Food up in a minute.”
And it is, “Here you are,” he sets down the plates, “bon appétit.”
The omelet has grilled mushrooms, red pepper, caramelized onion and goat cheese,
each has half a sandwich and half an omelet.
“Has Gerard been in?”
“Just about every day, he asked after you guys just this morning.”
“We haf a new housemate, leaf een housekeeping girl. At first we thought to haf
someone at house when we are gone. Then Katya decides to move here full time.
We like our house and Quarter.”
Michael grins, “Great, get to see you all year. The place grew on me too. The
suburbs are boring, but the city has charm. Crime and charm. Some dope deal went
bad right on Esplanade, not the Quarter side, further down. Crappy neighborhood.”
“We never go to those places, dangerous.”
“Yeah, me neither. Too many guns.”
After lunch, short walk home, then a nap seems in order. Off with jeans and shirts,
refresh in the bathroom and curl together under the comforter. It’s cold today, feels
good to have an identical to cuddle.
Mani comes in at three, finds the twins just blinking awake, sits on the side of the
bed. Katya has Katja wrapped up in arms and legs, kisses her shoulder and neck.
Mani blinks, eyes widen, “That’s sexy…do you…um, none of my business, sorry.”
Katja stretches and yawns, “Sister and I make sex together, turn on for us and for
Ellen.”
“Turn on for me. I kind of wondered, the way you look at each other, touch an arm
or kiss a shoulder, peck on the lips sometimes. I thought it might be my
imagination, or fantasy.”
“No, we are bad girls who are eencesting. We do not care, not going to get
pregnant and haf idiot baby.”
Mani laughs, “Katja you are too funny. Between the accent and your say anything
attitude, my life has jumped a whole new level, several levels,” she looks around,
“Ellen’s out?”
 166

“Da, she will be back soon.”

“Got any laundry? I see wet towels, take those, anything else?”
“Nyet, things are een already laundry room.”
“Okay, be back to clean the bathroom in a bit.”
She goes down, the twins slip into t-shirts and thigh high socks, pad down the
stairs.
Katja mumbles to herself, ‘Almost tea, I will make now anyway. Ellen ees busy
wiz real estate persons, where ees tea pot? Ah, here, Mani ees turn on by sisters,
Ellen also, everyone likes tweensex girls. Maybe Katya will write book…’
Her thought ramble stops while she boils water, into the teapot and adds two
spoons of Jutlibari, a particularly strong black tea. Steep for five, ready to drink.
Ellen walks in, “Cool, right on time for tea. God, I’ve seen nearly every for sale
property in the Quarter.”
“Michael gave us name of person at Tulane for real estate. He charges a fee,
Michael does not know how much.”
“I’ll call him tomorrow, see if I think it’s worth it. I got details, asking prices,
square feet of living area, some have parking, most don’t. We didn’t discuss
commercial. One place has apartments upstairs and retail space down. Right now,
it’s a boutique, women’s clothes and shoes.”
“Haf tea, you will figure out what to do, talk to Katya later, she ees real estate
beezness girl, not me.”
“She did well in Houston, shoulda taken her along.”
“She will get into it when you haf narrow to first property. Eef you want to start
smaller, then one wiz commercial space ees not for us. Katya will decide, we do
well wiz small commercial property in Houston.”
Mani comes from upstairs, “Ellen! Hi, tea time, good, can I get a kiss?”
“Anytime, anyplace.”
“You look a little frazzled.”
“Been stomping around buildings. Lot of stuff for sale, we should make out okay
on price.”
Katya, “We will need to make a corporation. I will find a lawyer to draw up
papers.”
“What we gonna call it?”
“Think up something simple but does not mean anything.”
Mani, “Sabelin,” she spells it.
Katya, “Good one.”
Ellen, “Good one what? It sounds nice, never heard it before.”
“Anagram for lesbian.”
Ellen, “What’s an anagram?”
 167

Mani, “Take the letters of a word and make a different word out of them.”
“Well ain’t that the cutest thing. Sabelin Partners, lesbian partners.”
Tea over, Ellen starts noodling around for something to cook.
Katja, “You do not haf to make dinner, we can go out.”
Ellen, “Not a problem, if it’s okay I’ve had enough out for one day, I’d just like to
be home. I took burgers out this morning, good ones from Rouse, toss ‘em on the
grill, we’re set. Got buns, all the extras, won’t take twenty minutes.”
Mani, “Hamburgers sound good. It’s five, I got an hour or so of study if nobody
needs anything.”
Ellen, “We’ll have drinks at six thirty, dinner at seven thirty, quarter to eight. Right
now, I need to haul my butt to the shower.”
Katya spreads out the property information Ellen collected, Katja surfs around for
a movie they can watch later. After checking HBO and Showtime, she goes to
Netflix. Snowpiercer is streaming, good enough. They also occasionally watch old
BBC mysteries, Sherlock, Wallander, Poirot or Midsomer Murders. Someone is
always getting killed, frequently several someones.
She starts to click off the TV, inadvertently hits a channel button, the local news is
on.
“A gruesome story today in the French Quarter, workers found the body of a
woman inside an unoccupied house on Barracks Street. She had been beheaded.
Police say they are attempting to identify the victim, there was no purse or wallet.
They do know it is not her house, the owner is away during the extensive
renovations. We will be following up as more information becomes available.”
Katja, “Gerard leefs on Barracks Street, I will call.”
Gerard, “Oh my. I heard the police cars, or an ambulance. I poked my nose out,
they were in the next block. Beheaded you say, how horrible. And they’ve no idea
who it is?”
“Not according to news. They did not anyway know much. When they said
Barracks Street, we wanted to check on you, maybe crazy person is run around
Quarter.”
Gerard, “Crazy people are all over the Quarter, but mostly harmless, certainly not
cutting people’s heads off. Thank you for thinking of me. I think I will see if I can
dig up any details.”
“We are hafing cocktail een a half hour, come over if you wish. Ellen ees making
grill hamburger.”
“How very nice. I shall see you then.”
“Do not lose head on the way.”
Gerard, “I shall pay close attention to my neck.”
Mani is still studying, Ellen comes down, Katya gives her the story.
 168

“Christ, her head cut off? That’s ugly. Can’t be a garden variety robbery, maybe a
crazy Muslim loose in the Quarter.”
Katya, “From now on, carry gun. And Mani cannot go to class on scooter, take car.
If we need both cars, take her to class and pick her up.”
Ellen goes upstairs to the safe, takes out three new Glock 42s. Small, concealable,
six inches long and four inches high. Shoots the .380 caliber, lethal enough, six in
the magazine, one in the chamber. Doesn’t weigh two pounds loaded. She also
takes three extra magaziness, loads those as well.
“Fits in a coat pocket, or you can holster it. We’ll have to wear jackets, suit coats
will work.”
Katya, “Just be careful, we do not have permit to conceal carry.”
“Given our sideline, handing the state our fingerprints isn’t a good idea. The guns
are in your bedroom closet. Don’t need Gerard or Mani to see them. I haven’t
figured out what to do about Mani yet.”

Fifty Seven

Mani’s been introduced to Gerard, they’re around the dining table. Ellen has the
burger accompaniments, sliced tomato, lettuce, spicy pickle. She’s caramelizing
onions, no overwhelming onion scent and sweet when cooked. Potatoes chopped
for fries, she does them skin on. Burgers sprinkled with dark soy sauce, these have
blue cheese bits mixed in.
Gerard, “I know many of the policemen who work the Quarter. Max was still
outside when I walked over. They still don’t know who she is, but she’s young,
twentyish. There were no other signs of violence evident. And it wasn’t a messy
job, not like the cut and saw of a terrorist. Clean through, like a samurai sword.”
Mani, “Geeyuck. Was she kneeling, standing, can they tell?”
Gerard, “I asked, she fell face…no, that’s not right, when she fell the body had no
face. She fell on her chest, arms at her sides, eyes still open on the severed head.
So standing and unprepared or she would likely have eyes shut in anticipation. The
angle of the cut should tell them the height of the killer, close to it anyway. She
was five-five more or less, it wasn’t a midget ninja.”
Katya, “You found out a lot, surprised he told you so much.”
“He knows me, I’m not calling the media.”
Katya, “And if she was dressed, it is also probable that there was no sexual
motive.”
Mani, “They think it was done in the condo? Or could she have been killed
someplace else?”
Gerard, “There, blood all over the place.”
 169

“You don’t decapitate someone and take the head and body elsewhere anyway.”
Gerard, “That is true, Katya. I hope you have no experience in it.”
“Never cut off a head, messy, must have the right weapon, know what to do. Gun
is better, point and pull trigger, bullet does all the work.”
Ellen, “No more guns, swords and murder, ya’ll makin’ me dizzy. Tell Gerard
about our real estate plan, something pleasant.”
Gerard, “Ellen, such a sweet soul, you are right, please, you have decided to buy
real estate?”
“Went today to see property, Michael referred us to a professor at Tulane for
consulting. We haven’t decided if it is necessary. We own property in Houston, get
an appraisal, do cash flow estimates, cost of repairs or remodeling, it works or it
doesn’t, Katya figures that stuff out.”
Gerard, “Sounds as if you have no need of a consultant, you are your own. And
you bought this place without a consultant, yes?”
“Yes, we did homework, made a good offer, Ellen hired plumber, electrician,
painters, found a good decorator. Our first property will be something smaller, fix
it up enough to rent, see how it goes. Maybe later we buy one to do a major
renovation and resell.”
Katja, “Oh, and we are moofing to French Quarter permanently.”
She doesn’t mention two houses, no need to explain a shooting range. And after
talking it over, they may keep the shooting range. They have to go to Houston for
Katya Donut and their commercial property once in a while. Target practice there
separates them from having to keep in practice in New Orleans.
Gerard smiles, “How splendid, the city has charmed fresh young residents. It needs
productive young people.”
Ellen, “Well the Quarter and scattered restaurants, we found nothing interesting
once you get past St. Charles and Carrollton. And the suburbs are death.”
He laughs, “Entirely true, to the east, there is no reason to roam further than
Parkway Bakery. Lakeview and Gentilly were cultural wastelands before Katrina.
The only redeeming event that direction is Jazz Fest.”
“Is that worthwhile?”
“Yes, but I only attend on Thursday and Friday, never the weekends. Far too
crowded, I do not wish to be that close to my fellow man traipsing around shirtless,
reeking of too much beer and sun.”
Ellen starts grilling, in under ten she has juicy medium rare burgers and toasted
Oroweat Crustini buns, the perfect burger bun, light, crusty when toasted.
Gerard, “Excellent job dear girl. There is something regal about a well made
burger, and your fries are divine. I shouldn’t admit it, but I do occasionally visit
Camellia Grill. Your burger puts theirs to shame.”
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“We tried the one in the Quarter, it’s fair, better at the original.”
“Correct again. Now, young Mani, what are you studying at university?”
“Foreign languages, right now French and Japanese, I already speak Thai, my aunt
insisted I keep it up even though I’ve been in the states since fourth grade,” she
relates a bit of her early history.
Gerard, “Oh my, such a shame, I am sorry to hear it.”
Mani, “It was a long time ago, I got free of my aunt’s hovering and wound up with
Ellen and the twins. Overall, a great deal.”
“Good attitude,” he raises his glass, “to good attitudes.”
Mani, “Mr. Depardieu, if I may ask, Ellen told me you study the occult, or I should
say studied and have moved on to more interesting studies.”
“Yes, I should have a PhD by now if there was such a thing. I found it empty. I
have stumbled on other mysteries, like moving matter mentally, although I am
pathetically weak at it. I also do a substantial amount of what people call
meditation. That is, I sit around doing nothing in a quiet room and see what
happens.”
Mani, “And does anything...um, happen?”
“Most of the time the clock ticks, very occasionally there is a feeling of being
outside me, me as a self. Or my ‘self’ is gone and there is only everything. It is
only a short burst, a few seconds, then I am me again.”
Mani, “They say LSD has that effect, for a longer time.”
Gerard, “I read a bit about it, never followed up, I shall have to procure some. If I
do, would you girls be kind enough to keep an eye on me, make sure I don’t
wander off or do something stupid. I am told it can be a good or bad experience.”
Ellen, “Sure, be interesting to see what happens. You’re in good health, right?
Don’t want a heart attack in the middle.”
“No, nothing like that, blood pressure is normal for a man my age, no chronic
illness. I walk a good deal, no particular aches or pains. My major vices are wine
and my pipe.”
“Let us know, should be at your place I think, better to have familiar
surroundings.”
Time to wind up, Ellen says, “The twins will walk home with you, there’s a
screwball out there.”
Gerard, “But who walks them back?”
“Gerard, he screws with them he’ll find his sword up his ass. Trust me on that.”
“I’ll take your word. Thank you for another interesting evening, pleasure to meet
you Mani. I shall be in touch when I have acquired my magic mushroom.”
Katja and Katya walk Gerard home, Ellen and Mani clean up, prepare a nightcap
just as the girls return.
 171

“All safe and sound?”

“Da, we even walked his place. His house is more traditional, antique. But he has
meeny books, covers almost every wall. There are stacks of books around, some
open like he’s reading them, several notebooks, but it is clean otherwise, kitchen
orderly and neat. A scholar’s home.”
“Glad to hear it, he’s such a sweet old guy, not that old, what, sixty? Got vodka,
let’s sit and not think about dead people.”

Fifty Eight

Two weeks into the search, Ellen says, “I’m satisfied with a condo on Governor
Nicholls. Ground floor, no parking, small courtyard. It’s been remodeled already,
adorable place. They want four hundred, I’m gonna offer three fifty, but it’s worth
the four. I think we can rent it for eighteen hundred a month. Around six percent a
year and tax free until the depreciations runs out. Not get rich money, but we get
our feet wet in the residential rental property business.”
Katya, “Good enough.”
Mani comes home, it’s the middle of Mardi Gras, only one more weekend,
Monday and Tuesday to endure. They been to see a couple of parades, can’t get
into it though. One shooting on Canal Street, they don’t need the aggravation of
drunks for plastic junk from a float.
Mani, “Did you find a property?”
Ellen, “Yes, if they meet our price. I am waiting until the Mardi Gras mess is over
with, let them stew a bit. There are at least two others that will work, we don’t
have to have that one.”
“They go down to tea, Katja’s ahead of them, tea is ready, cookies out.
Tea is either discussion of the day or quiet reverie, today it’s reverie. Mani collects
the cups and plates. Katja clicks on the news. She’s been following online to see if
there is any progress on the murder.
An anchor reads, “Less than two weeks after the gruesome beheading on Barracks
Street, another young woman has been found decapitated. This one in a vacant
rental apartment in Faubourg Marigny, adjacent to the French Quarter. No further
details are available at this time, but the second beheading in two weeks is
suggestive of terrorism or a serial killer.”
Katja clicks off, she calls Gerard, “Haf you seen news?”
“Just now, another one. They’ve made no progress on the first except to identify
the girl. Haven’t released the name but she isn’t local.”
“Can you check with police pal? Call us with any information?”
“Well, of course, you are taking an interest then?”
 172

“We live here, are buying property. We do not need crazy man killing people.”
Gerard, “Might not get much tonight, but I will walk over to the scene and see who
is on duty.”
“Wait, we will go with you.”
“If you wish, but he does not appear to be killing old men.”
“Anyway wait, we will be five minute only.”
“Ellen, you and Mani will start dinner, sister and I will take a walk wiz Gerard,
maybe cop friend ees around.”
Ellen, “Protect yourself.”
That’s code for take guns, with an asshole on the loose, Katja has no intention of
leaving home empty holstered. The go upstairs, change, including jackets to cover
the Glock 42s. Be enough if a creep with a sword shows up.

Fifty Nine

Gerard is talking to one of the policemen, the twins are ten yards away, he waves
them over.
“Officer Ferguson, meet Katya and Katja, two friends and residents of the Quarter.
Naturally, they are concerned, they are the right age and gender, or perhaps I
should say the wrong age and gender considering the circumstances.”
He nods, “Ladies. Only thing I can say is don’t get lured into empty buildings.”
Katya, “Again, no sign of break in, no struggle by girl, killed here, is that it?”
Ferguson looks at Gerard, “They are completely trustworthy, and smart. You
should get to know them, they pay attention.”
“You have it right. It was, like the first, incredibly clean cut, the coroner said
surgical, except that it was with one swipe. Whatever the blade is, it’s sharp, razor
sharp.”
“Still, he must be good, it takes force to cut through a neck in one clean shot. There
are drops of blood, a spatter, someplace away from the body.”
Cop blinks, “Yeah, how’d you know that?”
“Common kendo training. After a cut, the budoka flicks his wrist sharply,” she
demonstrates, “to remove the blood from the katana, the sword. That would leave a
spatter pattern on the floor, maybe a wall if he was close to one.”
Ferguson, “Detectives were wondering about the blood spatter. I’ll pass it along.
They figured it was a trained sword guy, the spatter business hasn’t come up. They
didn’t report it to the press, you aren’t, are you?”
Katya, “We do not talk to reporters. We do not say anything, we never talked to
you. How tall was killer?”
“Five ten, maybe an inch one way or the other, that isn’t public either.”
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“So cut was straight, or higher on the strike side. He is right or left handed?”
“Right.”
“And eyes open, she has no idea of what is to happen.”
“Looks that way.”
“She will be also not local. These are girls looking to rent apartment, but from out
of town. He has listing, probably Craigslist, anonymous, girl has no idea if he is the
actual owner or agent. He has three or four places he knows about, has figured out
how to get in. This one is like the first, no break in, no sign of tampering with the
lock?”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
“He makes an impression, gets a key made, she comes along, he opens up like any
real estate agent or owner. Or maybe picks lock and is inside already when she
shows up. Any more detail, you will call Gerard.”
“I don’t know, said too much already maybe, but you seem to have good ideas on
the method, worth checking out.”
“Nobody will know about us. We do not want to be in the news. You will not tell
anyone you talked to us, you got an idea from standing around out here and
thinking it over. If it works, take credit.”
He looks at Gerard, “They for real?”
Gerard, “Count on it my friend.”
Walk to Gerard’s place, he asks, “How many twentyish girls from out of town can
be looking for an apartment down here? Seems a narrow field of potential
victims.”
Katya, “It does. And what is the thing with chopping off head of a girl he does not
know? He takes their purse, ID, but you do not kill people for simple robbery. You
stick a gun in their face, they give you money. A sword is noticeable. Besides,
young woman is not the best target for robbery, not much cash, uses cards.”
Gerard, “How does he get them alone in a vacant place carrying a sword?”
“Sword is already in the place. The only risk is the owner or a real estate agent
comes along while he’s inside. Improbable, but still a risk.”
Gerard, “Could he be an agent?”
“Sure, but someone who had access would be the first suspect. It is possible there
is an agent posting properties anonymously on Craigslist. Still, a real estate agent
with kendo training, one that works the Quarter area is a short list.”
Gerard, “What about a locksmith?”
“He has the training and the equipment. Still, it is also possible the killer is just
picking the lock and is already inside when the victim shows up. Anyone who
practices can pick common door locks, or buy an electric pick.”
“I thought they used real estate lock boxes.”
 174

“They do, but that only opens the box to get the key to the house, this guy is
picking the lock on the door, he doesn’t care about a key.”
“You know a bit about this lock business.”
Katya, “I read about on the internet.”
She isn’t going to tell him how many locks they picked as kids to access vacant
houses, or to steal guns and money. They part company, head the couple of blocks
home.
Katja tells Ellen and Mani what they learned.
Ellen, “About one of your questions, how many possible victims are there? Fair
number of girls move here, big nursing school, several colleges, two med schools,
most of ‘em don’t move down here, but some do, allure of the Quarter. Hell, we
added three to the number, just that we bought, didn’t rent.”
Mani, “It’s creepy. Good thing I’m not looking for an apartment. Are you sure
that’s what it is?”
Katya, “No. Could be completely wrong. If he is using Craigslist for instance, he
has to get some information, or he wastes time and increases risk by showing the
place to anyone who calls. Has to ask question, where are you from, why moving
to New Orleans? He wants them from out of town, he wants a certain age range.
College or nursing school would tell him she is probably around twenty.
Tomorrow I will look and see if there are notices at the schools for apartments to
rent. Better than random callers from Craigslist.”
Katja, “What ees dinner?”
Ellen, “Tomato basil soup and meatloaf. I can make it poor boy style or just hot on
a plate with gravy. Purple cabbage slaw with tahini dressing, flourless chocolate
cookies with toasted almonds.”
She ends up making garlic bread for the soup, they eat the meatloaf like an entrée,
not a sandwich.
Katja, “Good idea, you haf not made tomato basil zoup.”
“I was surfing the soup aisle and it jumped out. One of the organic kinds in a box.
Must have been in the mood for tomato soup. I added crushed red pepper to give it
more kick, dollop of sour cream to smooth it out. Meatloaf was from scratch, came
out okay.”
Mani, “Came out great, chopped onion, mushrooms and garlic, brown gravy on
top, gravy was good, how do you make gravy?”
“Beef stock, flour, soy sauce, Worcestershire, a little sugar, simmer and stir until
it’s the consistency you want. Embarrassingly simple, but it works. Just gotta do
the stir part, flour will burn if you get too anxious.”
Dinner done, Mani does dishes and puts things away, they collect on the couches
and watch Liam Neeson shoot people in Taken.
 175

Sixty

Yay, Mardi Gras is finito, done, over, the Quarter returns to its normal weirdness.
Nobody else is beheaded. A couple of people were shot during the festivities, but
in New Orleans a couple of people are shot every day. There’s no requirement it be
a festive occasion.
Mani is back to her school routine, Ellen and Katya met with the condo owner and
sealed the deal, for Katya’s price. They rent it to Eduardo Dimas, a lawyer with a
solid rep in the Hispanic community despite the fact he’s gay. Eduardo isn’t out, he
isn’t in, he doesn’t think his sexuality is anyone’s business. He only told Ellen
when she mentioned her lesbian household.
Eduardo, “I occasionally run into Spanish mothers who want a successful lawyer
for their daughter, I tell them I am not the marrying kind. It has the benefit of being
true, I’m not marrying a man either.”
Ellen, “We don’t do marriage, we’re a little lost on why gays think it’s such a big
deal. Acceptance into the mainstream maybe, but we can’t figure out why anyone
wants to be accepted into the mainstream. It’s like…loserville.”
Eduardo laughs, “I had not thought of it that way, you have a point. Fitting in with
a rotten society is a kind of mental illness. By the way, I’m having a few friends
over, to house warm my new home, I hope you and your compadres will come for
a drink. Seven Saturday evening, it is just six of us, all gay men, four more will fit
nicely. If the weather holds, we can use the courtyard.”
Ellen, “That’s so sweet, sure, casual I assume?”
“Yes, of course, happy to hear you can make it.”
She walks to the house, the others are home, ‘We are going to Eduardo’s
housewarming Saturday, seven o’clock. Just a few of his friends and us. No
problem, they’re all gay. I’ll bring a coupla bottles of champagne, that’s warming
enough. Casual, we should step up from jeans though.”
Katja, “We haf silk pants, nice blouse, like that.”
Mani, “You guys will be meeting more people, that’s good.”
Ellen, “You gonna be meetin’ more people too honey, we’re all going.”
“Really! Wow, how cool, a party with something besides girls looking to meet
fraternity boys.”
“And no problem with date rape drugs.”
Gerard calls, “See the news?”
Ellen, “Do not flippin’ tell me…”
“Yes, another in Marigny, rentals are cheaper there, more prospective twenty
somethings. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be the parent. Daughter
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strikes out on her own, beginning to train for a career or attend college, brutally
murdered in an unfamiliar city. How horrid to know your daughter’s head was
chopped off.”
Ellen, “Feels crappy just thinking about it. Cops know anything new?”
“I spoke to Max, essentially the same as the others. This girl they ID’d pretty
quickly, from Honduras, going to nursing school. The first girl was a Tulane
student, the second at Newcomb.”
Ellen tells the others, Katya gets on the phone to Gerard, “Call Max, tell him
schools have boards and online sites with apartment rentals. Those should be taken
down until this is finished.”
Gerard, “Goodness, a targeted audience. How did you figure it out?”
“Thinking of options. There should be no girl going to look at apartment in or
around Quarter by herself. One way to stop it is to get rid of notices for rentals.”
“I’ll call him immediately, thank you,” he clicks off.
Katya, “I collected all the notices on university, nursing school and med school
websites. There are only sixteen for this part of town. If they get the ads removed
right away, we will be the only prospects. We are going to make appointment to
see each one.”
Ellen, “We have to go alone though.”
Mani, “Yeah, that’s not safe.”
Katya, “We will have advantage, Ellen will not go, only me and sister. I have an
idea. Ellen, you and Mani go buy four phones, cash, and get a couple hundred
minutes on each. We don’t want calls traced to us.”
Phones purchased, they call for appointments, if a woman answers they hang up. If
it’s a man, they ask questions about the place, parking, laundry, appliances. If he
asks no questions, they say they’ll think it over. They are looking for a man who
wants to know where she’s from and what she does. Nobody meets the
requirement.
Katya, “He just killed a girl, he is running two or three weeks between each one.
Maybe he doesn’t have a place that meets his needs yet. We will call Craigslist,
nothing to lose. Everyone call, do not leave any message.”
A half hour in, Mani’s on the line with a man, “Yes, I’m from New Jersey, going
to college, Tulane. I don’t want to dorm, I want privacy. Yes, okay, two is fine, see
you tomorrow.”
Katya, “Where is it?”
“Burgundy, near Frenchman.”
“We will take a look.”
It’s shotgun style, most of the street is, front door opens to living room, straight
hall to bedroom, bathroom, kitchen in the rear. Shutters over windows, can’t see
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inside. Katya looks down the side, there’s a locked gate, it’s that kind of
neighborhood. Locked everything, windows have either stout wooden shutters or
metal bars. Around here, if it’s accessible, it’s gone.
“Seen enough.”
Mani, “You have a plan?”
“Da.”

Sixty One

Next day at noon, Katya and Katja go to the house. Katja stays out front, Katya
hops the fence and picks the lock on the back door. She searches the house, it’s
probably too early for him to hide the katana, some valid agent might show the
place. She goes through the few closets, the house is minimally furnished, there’s a
new mattress on the double bed, no pillows or linens. A washer and dryer outside
under a canopy on the back porch. Nothing remarkable in the bathroom, she
flushes the toilet to see if the water’s running. The bowl empties and refills, water
comes from the tap in the sink.
Katya mentals her sister, “No sword.”
Katja, “Okay, better to go now.”
Katya exits, leaves the back door unlocked. Return home, time to suit up. They
dress identically, including parting their hair exactly the same, same sunglasses, no
jewelry. Glocks in shoulder holsters under matching black suit jackets, loose fit
jeans, black sneakers.
Downstairs, Mani says, “Cripes, mirror images. You are the most identical,
identical twins I’ve ever even heard about.”
Ellen, “That’s why Katja keeps an accent, so they can tell each other apart.”
Mani laughs, “It’s how I tell them apart.”
She doesn’t know they can speak telepathically, nor that they think identically,
something even Ellen doesn’t know.
Katja, “We will go now.”
Mani, “Please be careful. I don’t know how you’re going to handle this, but if it’s
him, he’s got a sharp sword and knows how to use it.”
Ellen, “They’ll be okay, kiss me honeys, take care of business.”
They take the car this time, easier to sit in the Hyundai than loiter on the street.
While the twins wait for a samurai psycho, Ellen has a chat with Mani.
“Your sadistic side, is it real or just for play?”
“Real mostly, part left over anger, part fun. My aunt slapped me around, maybe it’s
in the blood, but it also got me pissed. In school I got busted a fair amount for
mean stuff, screwing with people’s lockers, steal a phone and send crappy texts.
 178

Fights. It was stupid because it wasn’t channeled, just random. Like I said, I was
angry. She has less hold on me, I got a scholarship, she paid for the dorm but I got
out of that because of you, and I get my own money working for you.”
“Think you could kill someone?”
“I think about it sometimes, like asshole Elton.”
Ellen sips her tea, “Could you kill someone you didn’t know, that had never done
anything to you or anyone you know, do it just for money?”
“Gee, depends on how much maybe. Like ten thousand?”
“Yeah, like ten thousand.”
Mani giggles, “I think everybody fantasizes about being an assassin, video games,
movies are full of them. We put ourselves in their place when we watch. I don’t
know, I’d probably have an orgasm shooting someone. I might do it for nothing.”
Ellen laughs, “Well, don’t take it that far with me.”
“I have no idea how to use a gun. Do you?”
“Yeah, I do. You want to learn?”
“Really? Cool.”
While Ellen nudges Mani along the road of death, the twins are watching a man
drive by the house, he goes to the far corner and turns. A minute later, he walks
around the corner to the house. He’s carrying a coat over his arm a bit unnaturally,
one side hangs down much longer than the other and it’s draped over his left hand.
Katya, “Idiot, better to carry a small throw rug with katana rolled up inside.”
It’s quarter to two, they wait. At five after, Katya exits and goes to the gate, climbs
over just as Katja knocks on the door.
The man answers, coat’s gone. He’s slim, lanky, maybe five eleven.
“You are Laura?”
“Yes,” she steps inside, “I’m a bit late, took a wrong turn and had to circle
around.”
“No problem, in this business sometimes people don’t even show up.”
“How rude, gee, it’s just a phone call to cancel.”
Katja can lose her accent at will, “I’ve never been in a shotgun, I looked it up when
you told me. Kind of convenient actually.”
“Like I said, place isn’t big, but if it’s just you it should do fine. A few things have
been updated, bathroom, kitchen appliances. There’s a washer and dryer out back,
saves tying up space inside.”
She goes to the back door, fiddles like she’s unlocking it, opens and looks out,
“Yeah, that’s neat, they both work, right?”
“Checked everything myself. Refrigerator isn’t new, but it’s clean and works well.
Refrigerators last forever these days. Window units for AC, but they both power up
good, can get it frigid in here if that’s what you like.”
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Katja, “Is the water on? I really need to use the ladies, over caffeinated.”
“Sure thing, I’ll be up front when you’re done.”
He walks to the front room, she goes in and closes the door. He lifts the coat, pulls
out the sword, takes off his shoes and turns back towards the rear of the house.
He’s figuring to sneak past the bathroom door when the toilet flushes and be
behind her when she comes out. Except it doesn’t flush.
Instead, the girl has somehow left the bathroom and is standing in the kitchen. He’s
standing in his sock feet with a gleaming sword.
“How did you….?”
He scoots forward, kendo style, left foot slides forward, right foot slides behind,
katana rises, he’s four feet from Katya. She pulls the Glock, soft pop from the
silencer, a round red-black dot appears in the center of his forehead. Momentum
carries him forward, she steps aside, he splats down face first, the katana clatters
against a countertop.
Katja comes out of the bathroom, stares down blankly, “Maybe we cut off head
wiz own sword.”
Katya, “He is not getting any deader, we do not know about sword anyway. You
wipe down the bathroom?”
“Da, no feenger printing, I opened back door to see washing machine.”
Katya rubs the knob on both sides, she’s wearing latex gloves.
Katja leaves, no reason not to go out the front door, she mentals Katya that the
street is empty, Katya locks the back door, out the front and walks around the
corner to the car. Strips off her gloves and sticks them in her coat pocket, unscrews
the silencer and it joins the gloves. Katja drives the few blocks home.

Sixty Two

Ellen, “He our boy?”

“Da, no more girls wiz head cut off.”
Mani is wide eyed, “Does that mean….?”
Katja takes off her jacket, Mani stares at the holstered Glock.
“Fuck me, you shot his ass?”
“Sister shot him, not ass, brain,” she points to the center of her forehead.
Mani’s agitated, “Weren’t you scared, did he try to kill you?”
Katya, “We do not tell details, it is for your protection to know little.”
Mani, “What about the police?”
Katja, “So what about police? If they even think of it, they will think of us as
worried girls, potential victims.”
“And nobody saw you go in, or come out, don’t guns make noise?”
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“We were careful, weekday afternoon, people are at work, street was empty,” she
pulls a metal tube from her pocket, “gun ees silence.”
Mani, “Why would you have guns with silencers? Oh crap, did I ask the wrong
question? Forget it,” a worried glance at Ellen.
Ellen, “Remember our discussion?”
Mani nods a slow yes.
“You want in?”
Mani processes, “You will show me?”
“Maybe there’s a YouTube.”
Mani smiles, “I’m going to be a fucking assassin. When do we start?”
“For now, finish the semester. Then we’ll go to Houston, we have our own gun
range. We thought about it, decided not to be seen at a public range.”
“Makes sense, pretty young girls with guns are going to be remembered.”
“First, you can learn how to break down and clean the weapons, then we will teach
you how to fight. We do that, not because of our sideline, because we don’t walk
around armed all the time. Girls get assaulted, it’s a fact of life. We aren’t going to
make it easy.”
Mani, “I’m up with that.”
“Enough death and destruction, tea time.”
Mani, “On it, just sit and chill.”
In ten she has two pots, green and black, a selection of cookies and petit fours,
they’re in the courtyard enjoying the mild early spring. Spring and fall are the best
times to visit New Orleans, summer is muggy hot, winter is bipolar, freezing wet
or just wet.
Katya, “Ellen, make sure to throw away phones, junk them first, flush the sim
cards.”
“Right after tea.”
Quite enough excitement for one afternoon, it’s quiet time, have a bite of sugar
bread and sip tea.
A half hour passes unnoticed, Mani says, “I need an hour of French, I’ll be down to
make cocktails at six thirty,” she takes the tray of cups and plates in with her.
Katya, “You think she is capable?”
Ellen, “Don’t know, I know she likes the idea. Guess you figured she was
trustworthy or you wouldn’t have involved her in the phone business in the first
place.”
“No, the phone was to see if she would go along. She had to know why we were
doing it. When she jumped in and started calling, that was enough, she was part of
it. If she cannot kill, she has no objection to it and can be useful in other ways.
Distract, make pretext calls, track a target.”
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Ellen, “It would be helpful to follow targets around for a couple of days. We’ve
been lucky to get opportunities pretty easy, but it may not be so simple all the
time.”
Katya, “We will train her on all of it, tracking on the GPS, following in person,
disguise. Teach her how to pick locks with shim or electric pick. When school is
out, take her to Houston.”
Ellen, “I gotta bust up the phones and start dinner. Roast chicken, black bean soup,
macaroni and cheese, which I put together but need to cook,” she gets up,
stretches, smiles, twins admiring long legs.
Katya calls Penny, “I subcontracted a new partner, the other disappeared, this one
is a local. I can take on more work.”
Penny, “Just thinking of you, I have two cases under consideration, waiting on
initial confirmation.”
That means the first payment.
Katya, “If we are hired, send details the usual way, but text me, I don’t check the
accounts regularly.”
“Why would you? It isn’t like we do conflict resolution every day. I’ll message
you with a heads up.”
Katya clicks off, Penny stares at her phone, grins, “Bye, Vika.”
Penny doesn’t know a Katya, she knows Vika. Nor does she know about a twin, or
Ellen. Now she won’t know Mani either. What Penny doesn’t know can’t hurt her.
Gerard calls, “Gerard here, which lovely young girl did I reach?”
“Katya.”
“Hello dear lady, it appears the killer has met with something as deadly as his
sword, a bullet.”
“They find the katana?”
“Found him with a bullet hole in his forehead and the sword right next to him. Not
quite sure who he is yet, they are being quiet about the name, but my friend tells
me they have one. I presume they have a reason not to release it just yet, the media
will no doubt hound them into it sooner or later.”
“Then you do not know what he does, if he is real estate agent or something else.”
“No, not yet. I hope it is the end of it, the who and why are interesting but
irrelevant to the main matter of getting him stopped. New Orleans already has a
crumbled law enforcement reputation, beheadings made the national news. Max
didn’t say who he was, did say he wasn’t Muslim. The local fascists will be
disappointed, they’ve been demanding searches of mosques and interrogations of
Muslim leaders.”
“Muslims would take credit, even video the beheading. Maybe he is mad at former
girlfriend, or had a weird childhood. Maybe just insane. Crazy people do not need
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reasons, they do whatever pops up in head.”

“Must be some reason he chooses girls, and girls of a certain age. I don’t know.”
“Thank you for the call anyway.”
“Most welcome, see you soon.”
Over cocktails, Katya relates her conversation with Gerard.
Mani, “Suppose it isn’t that important, I’d still like to know who, and if there’s a
why.”

Sixty Three

Three days later, after press clamoring, the police release the name, Walter
Isakson. It created a minor stir, he was an accountant with his own practice,
divorced, no children. He wasn’t a member of any organizations, didn’t belong to
the New Orleans Kendo Club, they never heard of him.
Ellen calls Gerard, “See the news?”
Gerard, “Yes, also spoke with Max, besides the few details released, they know he
went to Japan for two years a decade ago. Two shorter trips subsequently, then
returned last summer for a few months. When he got back, the killings started.
They are still following up on the Japan connection.”
“Sheesh, so he got trained in Japan, something clicked in his head on the last trip
and he went off the rails.”
“Appears to be the case. They didn’t release that, still trying to find out more about
where he went. All the trips were to Kyoto.”
“Bizarre, might have joined a whacko sect, are people getting beheaded in Kyoto?
Guess you wouldn’t know.”
“Something like that would be in the news, beheadings have become associated
with terrorism. His behavior prior to this recent business is hard to gauge. He was a
loner, did his job, not part of the social scene, no carnival affiliation, no church.
People who knew him as a colleague or acquaintance said he acted sort of distant,
as if he were above it all. Oh, and his home is crammed with kendo related
paraphernalia. Crammed is the wrong word, his house is ordinary outside, inside it
is all Japanese, Shōji, the rice paper walls you see in Japanese movies, tatami mats,
low tea table, kanji scrolls on the walls. Half dozen swords and a shrine of some
sort.”
“Well, it starts to come together. He decided he was a samurai, looks like he
wanted to test himself, then got into it.”
Gerard, “Yes, that’s kind of what the police think, caught up in a delusion so to
speak.”
They disconnect, Ellen tells the others what she’s found out.
 183

Mani, “I don’t see how it could be anything else. Doesn’t explain young women
though.”
Katya, “The ninja part, break into a house, attract the victim with a credible story.
He wanted them alone, so girls moving to the city. Locals might show up with a
friend. If he thought this was a way to test his skill he’s delusional. There’s no
bravery in chopping off a head from behind. It was not for money, it was not for
sex.”
Mani, “Hard to rape someone at sword point.”
Ellen laughs, “True that, need a lot of dick, or a woman who can do a full back
bend.”
Katya, “We have a conflict to resolve.”
Ellen, “Goody, a payday.”
Mani, “What does that mean, a conflict…?”
Ellen, “We call our sideline conflict resolution. Two parties have a disagreement,
one of them hires us to resolve the conflict, permanently.”
Mani giggles, “Dying would definitely do it.”
Katja, “Do we let her go, to observe?”
“Da, if she is there, she is part of it for sure, even if she does not pull trigger.”
“And see how she handles it.”
“Yes.”
Katja, “Mani, you will go on this one, to watch, learn. You will not carry gun or
shoot.”
Mani smiles, “Cool. Where we going?”
“Not so sexy place, Memfiz Tennessee. Good pay, ees politician person.”
Mani, “What’s he done?”
“Better not to know. If we know what he did, we can figure who ees client, we do
not want to know who ees client.”
Mani, “How do you get the assignments?”
Ellen explains Penny, not by name, just the contact. How she gets half the money
and why. This job will be a hundred thousand because it’s a name, not a big name,
but in the public eye.
Katya, “Four of us, fifty thousand, you get twelve five. Smaller job, we get twenty
five, you get sixty two fifty.”
“I won’t get paid for this one though, just an apprentice assassin.”
“You go, you get paid. When we all go, only one pulls trigger, everyone gets paid.
If two go to a job, everyone gets paid. All the money is always divided. We don’t
anyway need money, we do it to do it.”
Mani, “But you don’t just randomly kill people do you?”
“Nyet, has to be conflict resolution, or the odd case of the delusional ninja. First
 184

time that has happened. We do not hire out directly, no detective work, that means
somebody knows us.”
Mani, “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
Mani looks at Ellen, “Can we have a go at fight practice again?”
“No actual fighting, not before a job. We can whap the heavy bags, do slow motion
attack.”
Katya, “After, show her about packing guns, we will leave for airport at eight
thirty, flight is nine.”
Mani, “Eight thirty? What about all the security lines?”
Ellen, “We fly from Lakefront, private plane, no lines. We have to take guns, a real
pain on commercial flights, has to be in checked luggage, have to declare them,
have to hope some TSA drone doesn’t spot check and find them. Or the luggage
gets rerouted or lost.”
Mani, “A private plane, wow, like a jet?”
“Exactly like a jet.”
They go off to pound the heavy bag, when they tire of that, they do slow motion
attacks on each other, to keep the muscle memory intact. Any attempted assault,
they want to react instantly, not think things over first. It’s one reason there are
forms in most martial arts, repetition makes the punches and kicks automatic.
Finish up on the stationary bikes, hill ride that strains the quads and leaves them
breathless.
Mani’s gasping, “That was,” deep breath, “a workout.”
Ellen’s bent over, hands on knees, sweat drops from her forehead, “Do tell. My
legs are screaming ugly things at me.”
Big glass of water, then up to shower, afterwards Ellen shows her how to pack the
weapons, three Glocks, one Ruger rifle and ammunition. Two cases that look like
typical hard side luggage. The guns are cushioned in memory foam top and
bottom, it squishes around the weapons when the case is closed, nothing shifts or
rattles.
Mani, “That it?”
“Pack loose clothes, sneakers, dark stuff. Don’t forget big sunglasses and one of
the hats, watch cap, or a scarf to cover your hair, they are all in the coat closet. We
need to check the weather in Memphis for the next few days.”
They have drinks, Ellen makes her square pizza for dinner, they watch The Fall on
Netflix, Gillian Anderson chasing around a particularly nasty serial killer.
Katja, “Moovey ees good, but girls always get strangle and raped. Never think
about sticking thumb een eye socket. Man with no eyes ees no going to anymore
strangle.”
 185

Ellen, “And it ain’t helping his hard on. You keep thinking about that Mani.
Asshole grabs you, take his eyes, even just one will do, pain will be excruciating
and it will scare the shit out of him.”
“Since you mentioned it a few weeks ago, I do mental rehearsals every morning,
and when class is boring I pick out a guy and pretend I’m smashing his balls,
punching his throat or gouging his eyeballs. Guess I won’t know for sure unless it
happens, but I’m past being squeamish about it.”
It’s nearing ten thirty, kitchen clean, suitcases ready, they go to their rooms for a
solid night’s sleep.

Sixty Four

Mani, “Cripes, this is nice,” she takes a bite of cheese omelet, smoked salmon on
the side, “I never dreamed of flying on a private jet. How I would love to stick it in
my aunt’s face. She thinks I’m going to find a husband and make babies, hah!”
Ellen leans to her ear, “Remember and tattoo it on your brain, our only real job is
taking care of them. When we’re at home, we watch their back, when we travel, we
watch their back. Any lie that covers for them needs to be told, we tell it. Any
asshole who needs to be put down, we put ‘em fuckin’ down. They made me rich,
and give me the chance to do what I like, cook, sex and kill fuckers. You’ll be rich
eventually too. Be the highest paid housekeeper on the planet, and for sure having
the most fun.”
Mani, “I fell into a dream, I screw this up I deserve my pain.”
“Good, hold that thought. Now, I need more caffeine.”
The hour twenty minute flight is seamless, cars are waiting, one Tahoe SUV, one
full size sedan, a Nissan Altima. Ellen and Mani take the Tahoe. Two suites at the
River Inn with a lovely view of the Mississippi.
Mani, “Wow, first class accommodations too, bathroom’s fancy, like at home.”
“Sometimes we luxury hotel, if it’s a quick job, we do a Hampton or Embassy.
This one requires surveillance, might be a few days, I booked us for three nights,
but we can slide to a fourth if we need to.”
They walk to the twins’ room, Katya is on a laptop checking on the target’s office,
his home, any idea of current whereabouts.
“Ellen, you and Mani call the office, find out if he is in.”
When they travel for work, it’s throwaway phones only, personal phones stay at
home. Katya and Ellen carry androids to search for things, they’re in the name of a
shell corporation in the Caymans, as is Katya’s encrypted Sat phone. All their
personal ID is fake.
 186

Blue Sky Jet account is in the name of a different shell corporation, passengers
might be principals of the company, or guests, or family, Blue Sky doesn’t care.
They fly the names they’re given. The hotel is booked in travel names, technically,
they’re dead people.
Ellen dials, asks for Duane Jorgenson, the county assessor. Whoever answers says
he’s in a meeting, she says she’ll try again later and hangs up.
“He’s there now.”
“Take Mani, find his car and put a tracker on it, then come back here. Katja and I
will take a look at his house.”
The house is in an open ungated neighborhood, his is relatively new, big, must be
at least five bedrooms.
Katya, “Somebody at home, wife, he is married according to website, three kids,
too bad for kids maybe.”
“He might be asshole father.”
“Could be, he is for sure going to be dead one.”.
“No good, kids at home, nothing here for us.”
They return to the hotel, Ellen’s not back yet, she calls, “Want me to pick up
anything, hungry?”
Katya, “Vodka.”
“Be back in a few.”
The office is thirteen miles from the hotel, with the detour they show up thirty
minutes later. Ellen sticks the vodka in the refrigerator.
“Got a bottle of red too, Mani hasn’t graduated to vodka yet.”
Katja, “House ees out, kids at home probably.”
Ellen, “No, can’t be shooting the guy in front of his kids. The office is out too, ton
of people around. Maybe the tracker will tell us something, it’s on the metal brace
for the rear bumper. Got a good magnet on the case, thing almost jumped out my
hand when I got it close to the brace. I showed Mani how to set it.”
Katya bought a Spark Nano 4.0 GPS tracker for a prior job, since then they’ve
gotten three more. It offers an optional waterproof magnetic case, battery can track
continuously for twenty four hours and it’s motion activated so the battery isn’t
drained while the car is stopped. It sends a text to their phone when the vehicle
starts to move.
Katya, “His house is to the south, Richland Acres, not very far from the office.
When he leaves, we will follow, if he just goes home, nothing to do.”
Mai, “What if he doesn’t go home?”
“Then we check out the location, maybe a restaurant or bar, wait on an
opportunity.”
 187

Ellen and Mani go to their suite to chill.

Ellen, “I’m tempted to sex, but we might have to split at any moment.”
Mani, “We don’t have to strip to make out and snuggle.”
“Good thought,” stretch on the big bed, kisses, Mani curls into Ellen and they zone
out.
An hour later, Katya calls, “Katja and I are going to his office, she called, he’s still
there, but the office closes at five. Maybe we get a chance someplace.”
“You want us to go?”
“Up to you, probably nothing, but it can’t hurt. Be stupid to find out he goes to
some club and we can get him cold in a parking lot.”
Ellen tells Mani, “Meet you downstairs, I’ll get the Tahoe.”
“He moving?”
Ellen, “Not yet, we’re gonna follow when he leaves work,” she holsters the Glock,
takes the suitcase with the Ruger, goes downstairs to collect the car.
Half an hour later, they’re parked two blocks from the office. They need a visual,
maybe he has a passenger. Closing time, bureaucrats pour out of the buildings,
fifteen minutes later a text blips on the phone, car is moving. Ellen eases down the
block.
He’s four cars ahead, no passenger and he isn’t headed home. They follow from a
safe distance, he’s headed down I-240 south. He’s past the state line into
Mississippi, which borders south Memphis. It’s eighteen or so miles, a town called
Olive Branch. He pulls into a blacktop parking lot, Crossing Bar and Grill.
Mani, “What the heck, he drives twenty miles out of town for a common bar and
grill.”
Ellen, “No, he drives out of Shelby County to a place where he isn’t well known.
Bet you Duane’s got himself a gal pal.”
The twins join Ellen and Mani in the Tahoe.
Katya, “Katja, go in bar, see what’s what.”
Needs to be one of the twins, they can mentally communicate, no need to make
phone calls if there’s a problem.
Katja’s in about twenty minutes, then returns to the Tahoe, “Woman met
Jorgenson, they kiss, he gets her cocktail. What ees car that one woman just got out
of?”
Katya, “Blue Mercedes, few years old, Tennessee plates.”
Katja, “Woman haf beeg breast, beeg hair, beeg clunky jewelry, making up wiz
paintbrush. Eef she ees no prostitute, she ees troubling to look like one.”
Mani laughs, “Katja’s too funny.”
Ellen, “Mighta discovered a reason for us. If his wife found out, she could be real
pissed, three kids. She’s got all that political shit to go to, smile at people she don’t
 188

know, or hates. Then he dips his wick in bleach blond bimbo.”

Mani, “Why pay a hundred thousand to kill him, hire a private investigator and get
a divorce.”
Katya, “Insurance and pension plan.”
Mani, “What’s that mean?’
Ellen, “If he’s got a sizeable life insurance policy, he has to be dead for it to pay. If
he has a good pension plan, in a divorce she don’t get any, but if he’s dead, she
gets it all. No divorce fight over money, kids and property, nothing nasty in the
news, poor lady’s husband got shot. She gets a little black something to wear, cries
tears of happiness people mistake for grief, moves on.”
Mani, “What happens now?”
Katya, “Now we wait. If she’s a whore, she isn’t going to sit there and pour booze
down her throat. She’s going to a motel room, he’s going to fuck her and go home,
maybe he has a sex game first. Woman like that, he must have some kind of thing.
You can hire a near perfect young escort for fucking without the clown makeup
and oversize tits. If we do not have a chance when he goes in, he dies when he
comes out.”
Ellen, “Be nice of us to let him get fucked first, course, we aren’t in this ‘cause
we’re nice.”
Katja, “Eef we kill him before, we go to hotel, haf cocktail and good dinner, back
to suite for sex. We wait and he leafs at ten or eleven, all we are ees hungry.”
Mani, “Shoot his ass right away, I want the sex part, drinks and dinner would be
nice too.”
Katya called it, Bleach Bimbo comes out and drives a couple miles down the road
to Magnolia Inn and Suites, must already be checked in, goes straight to a second
floor room. They wait outside, tracker reports Jorgenson’s car on the move, and
it’s not headed home.
Ellen, “Come with me Mani, and lose the jeans, you’re gonna be a distraction
when he pulls up.”
Mani giggles, shucks her jeans which leaves her in sneakers and a pullover that
comes to the top of her thighs. She takes off the watch cap and fluffs her black to
brown ombre hair.
“Do I look slutty enough?”
Ellen, “This is Mississippi, there is no depth of slut you can sink to. Stand near the
entrance, when he pulls in wag your ass across the lot towards him as he is getting
out.”
Three minutes later, Duane is exiting his car when he spots an Asian vision in a
nothing dress absentmindedly strolling in his direction, she appears to be listening
to music, earbuds in her ears. Booty shaking to the music, curvy legs swish and
 189

sway.
Ellen is behind him, “Cute ain’t she?”
Before he turns, his brains are across the top of his car and he’s sinking to the
asphalt. Ellen takes his wallet, watch and a mobile, finds two hundred in cash in
his pocket. Prostitutes come cheap in Olive Branch.
A minute later they’re driving to the River Inn.
Mani, “That was flipping fun. He was all eyes on me, Ellen got within two feet and
he had no clue, then pop, he’s done. Wonder what the prostitute thinks?”
Katya, “She is going to disappear and shut up if she is smart. It looks like a
robbery, she has nothing to do with it. She’s from Tennessee, not Mississippi. Lose
all that makeup and change her hair, nobody is going to connect her to anything.
But, she could also be stupid, find him in the lot, call the cops. Either way it is not
our problem.”

Sixty Five

After showers and change into dresses, it’s dinner at Paulette’s. Open with
cocktails, then shrimp and fried green tomatoes. Bottle of cabernet accompanies
filet mignon with cracked pepper butter crème sauce and mashed potatoes, and
sautéed Grouper filet with lemon dill crème fraiche.
Mani, “This is good, fish was just right, tangy sweet sauce.”
Katja, “Ees nice restaurant, not so expensive.”
Ellen, “I’m full, skipping dessert.”
Mani, “Me too.”
Katja, “Then time to pay check and go to room.”
An hour later, there are four lithe lovelies playing swap the girl. At the end of the
second hour, everyone has had everyone every way they can be had.
Mani stares at the ceiling, “That was awesome, taken by three girls at once, I’m
still vibrating,” she turns to her side, “oh, no wonder,” she clicks off a still running
toy underneath her, giggles, “I wonder where this was last?”
It’s past midnight, Ellen and Katja go to Ellen’s suite, Mani with Katya. All sleep
hard and deep.
In the morning, Katja and Ellen show up, “We ordered coffee and tea, should be up
in a bit,” knock on the door, ‘room service.’
“Or right away,” she lets the man in, signs the tab and gives him five bucks on top
of the charge they stick on for room service.
“What’s the plan?”
Katya, “No reason to stay two more nights, I will change flight to tomorrow, leave
maybe at ten. Today we can take a ride and check out the city, find a spot for
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lunch. Memphis is supposed to be a barbeque town.”

Ellen, “Sounds good, catch any news?”
“Nyet, we slept late.”
Katya, “We can return the Altima today, do that first.”
Car returned, they’re in the Tahoe, Katya’s been searching the web, “We should go
to Central Barbeque for lunch, then to Beale Street tonight for music.”
Ellen, “Sounds like a plan.”
By twelve thirty, they’re at a table in the busy restaurant, it’s a ribs joint, no fine
dining, better than. Two ribs plates, two pulled pork sandwiches, slice things in
half and share. Shiner Bocks all around, barbeque without beer is a travesty. They
card Mani, she’s only seventeen and looks fourteen, but the ID says twenty one so
she gets a beer.
Ellen, “Man this is so good, sweet tangy sauce, nice mix of crunchy crust and
tender meat.”
Mani, “Good call Katya, this is a treat, gourmet soul food.”
Need a second beer along the way, a third to finish up. Napkins full of barbeque
sauce, a quick trip to wash up then back in the Tahoe.
Ellen, “Suppose we just enjoy fancy hotel rooms this afternoon? We slept in, but
I’m feeling nap-ish after beer and barbeque.”
Katja, “Da, good, me too.”
They always leave the do not disturb card hanging on the door, Ellen tipped the
housekeeper to replace towels and leave a few extras in both rooms, then go away.
Katya snags Ellen and they go to Ellen’s suite. Soon as they go, Mani strips and
straddles Katja.
“Want something sweet to eat?”
Katja rolls her onto the couch, Mani spreads her legs. Katja skips prelims and goes
straight for the main course. Fifteen minutes of slow simmer, a minute of rapid boil
and Mani dings like a Tibetan singing bowl.
Katja rolls her over and pulls her butt up, Mani slides her knees under her thinking,
‘Oh God, she’s going to kill me if she tongues my tush.’
Which is exactly what happens, including a second little death for Mani. Katja sits
up and crosses her legs, Mani is stretched out on her tummy still moaning, a shiver
runs down her leg.
“You killed me, death by orgasm, it’s a good day to die, thank you.”
“Dobro pozhalovat, now you will get me vodka shot, then find strapping on
machine and fuck me.”
Mani pours a healthy shot in a glass and takes it to Katja. Then she goes off to the
bedroom to find the appropriate toy, Katja comes in, sits on the bed then lays back.
Mani is strapped up, cute little Asian sexy with an eight inch latex cock. Thin layer
 191

of lube, climbs on the bed and gets busy.

She fucks Katja eight ways from Sunday, gratified by enthusiastic gasps, groans
and demands for more. She delivers until Katja surrenders.
Gasping for air, “You haf fuck brain out, eef I have one more climatic I will go
into shock and be happiest dead girl ever. Leetle girl ees talented wiz beeg dick
toy.”
Mani smiles at the ceiling. Big dick toy also vibrates on her end of it, she’s buzzed
off a couple times herself working Katja to mind mush.
“This thing is great, a toy that can multitask.”
“Haf you fuck sister wiz that one?”
“No.”
“When we are home, you will go to her one night when I am wiz Ellen. Take dick
machine, fuck her senseless, she will luf. Then she will leek your pussy until you
cannot anymore stand another orgasm. You will be like butter on hot plate.”
Mani giggles, “Thanks for the idea. I didn’t know I liked working this thing so
much. I may try out for Fucker-in-Chief .”
Tea time comes around, Ellen and Katya appear, Mani has strong black tea with
pieces of dark chocolate and cookies from the snack selection in the room.
Katja, “Mani haf fuck Katja senseless. She ees expert wiz beeg dick toy.”
Ellen turns to Mani, “You like being on top.”
Mani, “I like making Katja squirm and moan, figure to make the rest of you beg
for more as well. My Asian power trip,” she laughs at herself.
They dress in low casual, no hot girl stuff, and ride to Beale Street. It’s near eight,
crowd’s gathering on the busy strip. They have a beer, listen to music, move on to
the next place, same thing. They want to soak up the atmosphere, and they don’t
want to stay anyplace long enough to have the guys muster enough courage to
come around.
Ellen, “I see why it’s popular, all the clubs in one place. The single crowd can shop
for love with one parking spot. Lotta tourist types, like us I s’pose.”
Katja, “Ees nice area, not so much like Bourbon Street wiz stripping club or trashy
bar.”
Ellen, “No, New Orleans could learn a bit from Memphis. The strip clubs in the
Quarter are nasty.”
They try a half dozen bars, the area seems secure, people just milling around
having fun, it’s about eleven.
Katya, “Enough, music is okay, not great.”
Mani, “And we learned we don’t need to vacation in Memphis, maybe stop by for
the ribs.”
 192

An hour later, Katja and Katya are curled together in one suite, Ellen and Mani in
the other. Twelve hours after that, landing at Lakefront in New Orleans.

Sixty Six

Ellen, “Glad it was a short trip, fifty grand, expenses almost ten, the private jet
thing runs to money.”
Katya, “Better than big airport and crazy fat people stuffing into little seats.”
“Oh I’m not complaining, we got over forty after expenses, ten thousand each for
two days work, a day really, nice hotel, great food and super sex. Hell, I’da paid
for the damn thing myself. Did you ever see anything on the guy we offed?”
Katya, “Nyet, Penny will know, she checks the news.”
Katya calls her, “Conflict resolved.”
Penny, “No shit, good job. On another subject, I noticed people are curious about a
married guy found outside a no tell motel at eight o’clock at night with his pockets
emptied.”
“People get up to all kinds of trouble.”
“They surely do. I’m just about to leave to collect a package.”
Katya clicks off, “Penny is collecting the rest of our money, she will send
overnight.”
Ellen, “And Mani gets her first payday, whatcha gonna do with ten grand
sweetie?”
Mani, “Can I pool it with your stuff? Ellen says Katya invests the extra money, I
don’t know anything about that.”
Katya, “If you wish. I think you should take a couple thousand for your own bank
account. Have extra cash for yourself.”
“Okay, except I barely spend anything now, you guys pay for everything and give
me a salary.”
Katja, “You earn money, like now, unpack us, put clothes away, do laundry wash,
Ellen will put away gun. We clean gun right away every time.”
Mani, “I know, I did it myself while she watched. I’m learning the trade.”
Katja, “And we will go to Houston next week, you will practice on range, learn to
shoot Glock and rifle.”
“Great!”
She unpacks suitcases, put away shoes, cosmetics and toiletries, sex toys, clothes
go downstairs to the laundry room.
Katya, “We will have fight time.”
Mani, “Can I try?”
One slave quarter room has been converted to the gym, martial arts mat covers the
 193

entire floor. It works great, feet slide and falls are cushioned. The mats come in
precut squares that fit together like puzzle pieces.
Katya and Katja go at it, then Ellen and Mani. They use MMA training gloves,
padded but not giant cushiony boxing gloves. Get hit, you feel it. They wear
headgear and mouthpieces, lightweight chest protector.
Ellen, “Use full force on me, I’m going to use half shots with you until you get
toughened up. It took us several months to withstand a full punch. Kicks go at half
speed, we don’t need broken ribs. The idea is to take some pain and keep going,
get used to the actual movement of a punch or kick. You want it to be automatic
when you need it.”
They bounce around, Mani has taken kickboxing, she’s more than reasonably
tuned up. But those classes use more padding than the girls have here.
They switch up opponents, by the end each has sparred with the other three.
Nobody got a bloody nose, no cuts today, bruises here and there. Thighs take a
pounding even with half speed kicks. Kicks to the head look impressive, but in a
street fight it’s a bad idea. The skull is hard and the bones of the foot are brittle and
small. One head kick is effective, a sharp spinning kick with the heel can crack
jawbone and teeth, even knock out an opponent.
An hour and a half of full contact three minute rounds leaves them sweat soaked
exhausted.
Mani’s on the floor catching her breath, her last round was Katja and Katja doesn’t
take prisoners. The final right cross nearly took Mani’s head off.
“You will maybe keep hands up next time, block ees as eemportant as punch.”
Mani, “Tell me about it, I saw an entire constellation of stars,” she eases her head
around in a slow circle.
Katya, “You did well, did not waste time in kickboxing class.”
“No, they were pretty serious. It wasn’t easy. I was going to look for a place when
I moved to New Orleans, but I wanted to stay focused my first year in college.
Coming here happened, I don’t need a class now, I can get beat up where I live.”
They strip, dump sweaty things in the laundry room and lay on the floor with
frozen gel packs on bashed muscles.
Mani, “Those things work, pain is mostly gone.”
Ellen, “It’s kinda temporary, but it will reduce bruising. I like to get the spot good
and frozen. We only go at it this hard once a month, other sparring is half speed.”
A half hour of chill, Katja says, “After showering, ees maybe time for tea, also
today, cracker and chizz.”
Mani, “I’m on it, soon as I get clean,” she heads to her room, the others to theirs.
Showered and in comfortable t-shirts, they take tea in the courtyard.
Katja, “What ees chizz?”
 194

Ellen, “Wicked River XXX sharp. The other is one of their buttery cheeses,
mellow and sweet. And tonight we are having fried shrimp and oyster poor boys,
purple cabbage slaw with tahini dressing. I figure that’s enough. I do have pastries
from Croissant D'Or, cherry tarts or napoleons.”
Mani, “Goody, does anyone need anything? I could use an hour or so of Japanese.”
Ellen says in Japanese, “Then we will speak Japanese through dinner.”
They are gaining fluency, have to stop and ask Katya for clues, the brain that
doesn’t forget. They aren’t trying to be Japanese, just learn the three hundred or so
most common words. To get by in any language, you only need a basic vocabulary
to plug together understandable sentences.
They chat about hotel rooms, menus, money and a few more ominous phrases
concerning conflict resolution. The idea is to be able to talk strategy even if
someone is in earshot. The odds of a random citizen speaking Japanese is
miniscule.
Cocktails, Ellen starts frying and a half hour later it’s cold Sapporo, seafood
po-boys on crusty toasted Leidenheimer’s, with condiment of choice, primarily
ketchup and a healthy dose of Tabasco habanero. There is also sliced tomato,
crispy bread and butter pickle slices to stack on the shrimp and oysters.
Katya, “Good you do not make fries with these, it would be too much.”
Ellen, “I never understood fries with poor boys, way too heavy. Chips yes, not
fries. I didn’t add chips tonight, I had fair amount of shrimp and oysters.”
Katja, “Ees really good,” she’s dragging an oyster through ketchup with
horseradish and Tabasco; it’s hard to get food too spicy for the twins.
Mani, “I like horseradish, dash of Tabasco.”
Katja pours another Sapporo, “Good reason to haf more beer,” she squishes a
lemon slice over the glass, then over a half dozen oysters.
Ellen, “Glad we did the sparring, everyone was hungry. Wondered if I had too
much.”
The oysters are gone, about a dozen fried shrimp left, “I can warm these tomorrow
for something. Stick ‘em on a salad.”
Katja, “Good, I am done, overdone but no mahter. What ees moovey?”
Mani, “I found A Dangerous Method on Amazon. About Sigmund Freud, Carl
Jung and the start of psychotherapy. Want to give it a try?”
Katja, “Why not? We are all psycho, maybe we will get cured.”
Laughter, they have no intention of getting cured, where’s the fun in that?

Sixty Seven

A few days in Houston, Mani’s first time, “Nice house, comfortable.”

Ellen, “It serves, the twins wanted to splurge in New Orleans this place is more
 195

functionality. I think Katya will ultimately sell it, she’s happier in New Orleans.”
They drive to the donut shops, introduce Mani, Katja does her routine inspection.
Mani has a bite of pistachio glaze, “Ohmygod, this is the best donut I’ve ever
tasted. How do you get it so light inside? There is not a hint of grease.”
Ellen, “Katja won’t use anything but the best ingredients, best flour, butter, yeast,
everything. There are strict mixing procedures, frying temperature and cooking
time. They don’t float around in oil very long and drain on a wire rack, excess
drips right off.”
Mani, “It sure shows,” she leans into Ellen and whispers, “and where do they get
these girls?”
Ellen smiles, “Katya is practical, not PC. People like pretty girls, they chat up the
customer, smile, make people feel good. She could probably charge twice as much
and still do good business. In fact she bumped prices a little, about a quarter a
donut. Didn’t change sales volume at all and she makes more money.”
Mani, “They’re so young, how did they get such a grasp of business. I know it’s
just a donut shop, but still, and she handles the investments for all of you too. And
there’s a commercial property here and the rental in New Orleans.”
“Katya’s a brain, if she reads it, she owns it. They’re self educated, Katya says it’s
called autodidact, self taught. I swear Katya could teach herself brain surgery off
YouTube.”
Mani, “They didn’t go to school?”
“Not after third grade, maybe it was fourth, and that was in Russia and Belarus. I
don’t know how grades work there.
“But they came to America with someone, they didn’t get them in school?”
“Now you’re in don’t need to know territory. I don’t know much of it. Way I look
at it is I got a real good life. I don’t need to know what I don’t need to know, hell, I
don’t want to know what I don’t need to know.”
Mani, “They’re amazing. Katya knows all the numbers for all the shops, I see her
looking at sales at the close of every day. If something’s off, or unusual, she’s on
the phone with the manager.”
Ellen, “It’s usually something small, they had to buy something they ran out of that
didn’t come from the usual supplier. They have leeway to spend cash for
emergencies, but Katya always questions it when they do. If she doesn’t, she
figures it gets out of control, people assume if they don’t have to answer for it they
can keep it up. Katya won’t let it get to that and they know it.”
Mani, “Lucky for me New Orleans resonated with Katya.”
“Lucky for me, I got you to play with.”
Katya, “This is last stop, we can go home, tomorrow to the range. Mani, range is
not for talking about, employees do not know of any range. You will not tell
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anyone here or in New Orleans.”

Mani, “Of course. I don’t know many people to tell anyway, but I get it. No range.
I signed the confidentiality agreement and I operate on the principle that less is
better and nothing is best, not a word from my lips to anyone..”
“Da, okay. Ellen, we will have Mexican tonight, no point in bringing food to the
house to cook.”
“Sounds good to me. We should go to Teo Mexican Café. They have great stuff,
parrilladas, I can taste the ribs and grilled shrimp now.”
Mani, “What’s parrilladas?”
“A combo of three or four different meats, like chicken, beef, sausage, and shrimp,
grilled and slightly blackened, served on a bed of sautéed onions and green
peppers.”
Mani, “Wow, when’s dinner?”
Katja, “We haf already shot past tea, we can go to the house, refresh, then to
restaurant. Tonight, no vodka, margarita instead.”
Ellen, Uh oh, who’s gonna be designated driver?”
Katya, “Taxi.”
Ellen, “Dang, good thought, have ourselves a little tequila blowout.”
Mani, “Never had a margarita.”
“Then sip slow, it’s not vodka. It’ll have sugary stuff and that can make for a bad
hangover. Normally, we have one large, then change to beer, maybe a tequila shot
on the side. Better head the next day.”
Two hours later they’re at a table with fat frozen top shelf margaritas and nibbling
on chips and salsa. They all get carded, but their license lies the right age.
Ellen, “Up to you, but I’d skip appetizers. When they bring out the entrée, you’ll
see why.”
Mani, “I’m the trainee here, just order and I’ll eat, and this drink is amazing, my
first hard stuff.”
They place the order, next up is Dos Equis lager and shots of Herradura Silver,
plate of lime and salt. Ellen goes through the routine, pinch of salt, tequila, bite of
lime.
“Some people shoot it, we sip, follow with beer.”
Mani tries it, shivers, coughs, grins, “O-fuckin-le, damn that’s neat. That’s it for
me though, I’ll have a beer with dinner.”
Entrees show up, they got two varieties in two person size. Grilled shrimp, beef
and chicken fajitas, sausages, bbq beef ribs, bed of grilled onions and peppers.
Mani, “I see why no appetizer, how we going to eat all this?”
“It’s the kind of stuff that doggie bags well, we can have it for breakfast. You can
wrap up the beef or chicken in the tortillas for a fajita, or just knife and fork it
 197

without the tortilla.”

Mani, “I’ll try chicken in a tortilla, onions, some of the sauce.”
They prefer poblana sauce, peppers, red onions, garlic, wine and cream. Katja likes
pico de gallo, so there’s an order of that. Mani stacks it all neatly on the big tortilla
fold and roll it up, takes a bite.
“Good God, how wonderful, I’m throwing caution out the door, have to do extra
wind sprints or something.”
The evening deteriorates splendidly from there. They get home at ten thirty, no
doggie bag, wasn’t enough left. They’re giggling, not exactly stumbling, but they
wouldn’t want to have to do the drunk dance for a cop. Ellen pays the Lyft and
they fall, almost, into the house.
Mani, “Toothbrush, pee, bed.”
Everyone else is in the same condition, brush, flush, crash.

Sixty Eight

Roll out at eight thirty, drive the fifty to their private range. Ellen shows Mani how
to hold the Smith & Wesson M&P22 for target shooting, two hands, sight in,
squeeze trigger. It’s light enough, zip for recoil, good for small hands like Mani’s.
Target’s ten yards away, she hits it northeast of center.
“Good, take your time, use up the magazine. We’re just working on the feel of it,
get used to the recoil.”
Katja and Katya are using Ruger Mini-Mag rifles at fifty, then a hundred yards.
They’re good enough at a hundred for their work, cluster a small circle in the
center of the target from a straight up standing position. Later they’ll work at
distance with the weapon supported on the bench behind them.
Mani finishes the magazine, “So far so good, didn’t drop it at least.”
“Now, one handed, firm grip. Go slow, squeeze the trigger, don’t jerk it.”
She reloads, fires a round, bullet smacks the paper high, “Oops, got to keep it
steady.”
“It’s different with one hand, but most kills are from a few feet, not ten yards.
You’re gonna hit the target. But better to make it clean, one shot to the brain. We
aren’t trying to torture, we aren’t mad at them. The dead guys is an end to a payday
and a little entertainment.”
Mani does three more magazines, “My hand is shaking.”
“Take a break and massage it out, you’ll get used to it. And learn to shoot left
handed, at least to hit something at twenty five yards. Your right gets hurt, you’re
stuck if you haven’t practiced.”
They take a break after an hour, a light lunch of bread and cheese, then to the
 198

Ruger.
While Ellen sights in five hundred yard targets, Katya goes over the rifle with
Mani. First round is from the supported position behind the bench. The small rifle
has no significant recoil, with first class sights, hitting something at fifty or a
hundred yards is simple. There’s no drop at that distance, the sight does all the
work, just point and pull.
Katja, “You haf the idea. We shoot rifle to stay in training, Ellen is first rifle girl,
she ees best shot at distance. We will not take work over five hundred yards, do not
haf rifle for it, or experience, not for single shot kill.”
Mani, “Ever do a job that required distance?”
“One, but less than a hundred yards, maybe seventy or eighty.”
They used rifles to pick off members of a drug cartel and stole a hundred million of
their cash.
Mani, “Where was that?....wait, no, I don’t want to know, sorry I asked.”
Katja, “No need for sorry, you figured out mistake right away. I wouldn’t anyway
tell you. Penny does not know Katja, Ellen or Mani, not even Katya, sister uses
different name. Ellen does not know about jobs before she came wiz us, you do not
know about anything before you are wiz us. Ees best way, don’t know, can’t say.”
Mani, “Got it. And I need to clean the rifles.”
“We all clean rifle, then pack up and go to Houston, enough already today. One
more treep tomorrow, then New Orleans for Thursday.”
Dinner is at home that evening, pickup fried chicken, coleslaw, mac and cheese.
Ellen, “Katya, did you decide to sell or rent this place?”
“Nyet. We come to Houston every month, better to have a place. Shooting range
house isn’t equipped for living in everyday, and is fifty miles from Houston
anyway.”
Ellen tells Mani, “We did that on purpose, so we weren’t associated with guns. As
you saw, the place has no neighbors close enough to hear gunshots. Once we take
targets down and lock the barn, it doesn’t look like a range, we don’t keep weapons
there.”
Next day is practice in the barn with popups and the star target. The eight inch steel
plates are held in place by spring tension so when a plate is struck it’s flipped
backwards. The imbalance causes the star to rotate.
Mani, “That’s neat. And I can actually hit moving stuff, well, some of the time.”
“At first we didn’t hit much either, but we kept after it and now we’re pretty good.
More than good enough for what we do.”
Mani, “I’d say so, knock off all five plates in five quick shots.”
Ellen, “From a reasonable distance, we get worse over thirty or forty yards. Eight
inch plates start to look kinda small. We’ll get there.”
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An hour of practice, tea and coffee break, work with the other hand for a few
roundss.
Mani tries out the Glock, it’s got more kick, Ellen makes her shoot it two handed
for a couple of clips, then one handed for the last.
Mani, “That’s sure different than the little one.”
Ellen, “Still, you did okay, there’s holes in the paper where they’re supposed to
be.”
Katya, “Enough for me.”
Ellen, “Yeah, if we can’t hit a guy from five feet by now we oughta hang up our
spurs.”
Mani, “I’m done,” she’s flexing fingers and shaking out her hands.
Drive to the house is an hour, it’s still only mid afternoon, the phone rings.
Penny, “You want to take a pro bono, Vika?”
Katya, “What is conflict?”
“Woman I know, more like a casual acquaintance, comes into the bar once in a
while. I’m helping Eddie out, pour beer, keep the place neat, stock the inventory,
just hanging out mostly. People in bars talk, dump their junk. Sometimes they wish
someone was dead, just beer talk mostly, but not always. They even ask how to
hire someone. I tell ‘em I have no idea but I think Eddie might know somebody. If
they get serious, they ask Eddie, he says he’ll ask around. Few days later he gives
them my number.”
“They do not figure out it is you?”
“No, I kinda husk up my voice for work calls, add some Texas twang I don’t have
in real life. Don’t have a girly voice anyway, some people think I’m a guy.”
“So what is conflict?”
“Oh, yeah, got sidetracked. This woman comes in, bitchin’ about a stalker. Typical
story, ex boyfriend can’t get the ex part in his head. Nasty dude, threatening her,
ignores the restraining order, lurking around. Beat shit out of the new boyfriend,
who hit the road real quick. Ex shows up at her house, in her house last time. Just
busted the back door window and unlocked the door. All smarmy nice for five
minutes, then in a rage. She has a daughter, he makes insinuations, woman is
scared for her, scared for herself.”
“She can pay, we resolve conflict.”
“Well, that’s the thing. This is a working class woman, cleans hotel rooms, shit
job, who knows what in hell’s on the sheets. Point is, lives hand to mouth. She
never asked about a hit. She wants him to give it up, go away. Will you help her? I
never offered her anything but an ear, she don’t know from Vika.”
Katya thinks it over, “I will call later,” clicks off.
She tells the others what the call was about.
 200

Mani, “Assholes. Lucky for me some drug deal got Elton out of my life. I had no
idea who to ask for help.”
Ellen, “Look, the job’s in Houston, we’re here anyway. If you want, I’ll find the
prick and baseball bat his ass until he gets right.”
Katya, “We kill for money, not for bad boyfriend,” ignoring Elton, who they did
kill but he was a pest, not Mani’s friend, “bad boyfriend gets lesson, hard lesson.”
Katja, “He will see us then, no good.”
Katya, “He will not see anyone he will ever see again. Wig, hat, face paint,
sunglass, common clothes, and he has no idea who we are. Woman has no idea,
Penny only knows Vika. Twins will not be twins and we will be gone from
Houston the next day.”
She calls Penny, “Who and where?”
Penny, “She was real anxious to tell me about him, I didn’t much have to ask her
anything. He’s a low life, small time car thief, deals meth and oxy when he gets his
hands on enough. Sort of a free range criminal. Nothing big, isn’t part of a gang.
He likes working alone and is tough enough to discourage interference. She’s seen
him beat up guys bigger than he is. He’s not a huge, five ten maybe, lean, wiry,
mean.”
“Name, location.”
“His name is CJ, CJ Drake. I have an address, at least where she thinks he is. Pay
by the week fleabag on the northwest side. Thompson something or other, out on
Airline by Helms Rd. It isn’t a place you’re likely to find on Google. He drives a
pickup of course, Ford Ranger of course, 2005, faded dark gray, dented passenger
door and confederate flag decal on the tailgate. That’s what I got.”
Katya clicks off, Penny looks at her dead phone and laughs.

Sixty Nine

Katja eases to the left side of Thompson Courts according to the unlit neon sign.
It’s getting dark, the sign blinks on, now it says T omp on ourt. Place could use a
bit of spruce up, or a demolition.
CJ is in number six, two rooms appear occupied, the other is number eleven. It’s a
straight line place, like a strip mall. The office is the first on the right, then one thru
fifteen to the left. There’s only fourteen rooms, someone superstitiously skipped
number thirteen.
His truck is parked outside, Katja walks past the door, the TV is going.
Katya, “Wait there, I’m coming. We need to get his done, the prostitutes will start
showing up soon.”
She gets out of the car, slings on a small backpack. They’ve parked on the far end
 201

of the place, along the side. Walk down the weed grown cracked sidewalk, past
eleven, TV on in there too, loud. Then to number six.
Katja knocks, bangs the door hard, nothing. She gives it another go, maybe he’s on
the toilet, or asleep, or needs to get dressed.
The door cracks open, “Fuck is it?”
Katja is in a micro miniskirt and platforms, tight shirt with perfectly rounded tits
stretching the fabric, she’s doing a drunk thing, “You ain’t Freddie, ..wha ..whar’s
Freddie, fuck I got the wrong fuckin’ place….sheeyt.,” she starts to stagger away.
CJ’s focused on tight thighs and curvy calves, his man brain has overtaken what’s
left of his brain, brain, “Hang on honey, fuck Freddie, he don’t keep a close eye on
a fine thing like you,” he steps halfway out the door…oops.
Katya has the barrel of her Glock at his temple, “In the room, do anything stupid,
your brains paint the door.”
CJ backs into the room, Katya is step for step, “Sit on the bed.”
CJ goes for stupid. He swipes at the gun, then goes for a left hook to Katya’s jaw.
She ducks, he hits air, she stands, quick knee between his legs. He gasps, bends
over, the butt of the Glock meets his temple, Glock wins.
Katja comes in and shuts the door.
CJ falls next to the bed, Katja puts a Converse steel toe hard in his ribs, crack!
They stand and stare while he regains a semblance of sensibility.
“Fuck’s this? Look like I got any money?”
Katja pulls picture wire from Katya’s backpack.
“Whachu gonna do with that, geezus,” fear starts to kick in.
With her free hand, Katya flicks open her serrated blade, parks the point under his
chin, “Shut up.”
Katja wraps his wrists, he’s conveniently barefoot, she wraps his ankles. If he
moves, he’ll cut into his skin, if he moves a lot, he’ll sever a tendon.
“What’s this about? I don’t know you, what…”
Katja sticks duct tape on his mouth, wraps it clean around his head twice.
Katya shoots him in the foot, silenced Glock is just a soft pop, “Shut up means shut
up.”
CJ’s shriek is buried in his throat, his eyes bulge, sweat pops out on his forehead,
he’s near hyperventilating.
Katja backhands him hard with the knuckles of her gloved fist, “Pay attention.”
He blinks back into his present nightmare, CJ is most assuredly in the moment,
directly plugged in to the Power of Now.
Katya, “We heard about an abuser stalking his ex girlfriend, making threats against
her and her child, turns out to be you.”
He shakes his head no, no.
 202

Katya’s eyes so blank they’re black, “Don’t lie asshole, I will make this much
worse,” she nods at Katja.
Katja pulls a flick knife out of the backpack, flips it open, it’s a really nasty blade,
serrated on both sides. Need to slice through bone? No sweat. She takes his little
finger, the whole thing, it plops down to the seldom vacuumed carpet.
A long, what….groan…scream of agony combo from CJs taped mouth.
Katya, “Your girlfriend doesn’t know us, she didn’t ask us to fix you. We do this
dance with asshole boyfriends all the time, it’s a hobby. Here’s what happens next,
well, after minor adjustments, but I need to tell you now, you may pass out before
I’m done adjusting.”
His head is shaking no, any faster and he’d break his neck.
Katya, “Man up fucker. It didn’t bother you to beat your girlfriend. Didn’t bother
you to threaten her child, to rob and bully people. If you survive tonight, here’s
your future. You will leave Houston. You can do break ins and sell meth all over
the country, but not in Houston. You will never call, write, e-mail, text or think
about your girlfriend or the kid, ever. If I have to look at you again, I put one in
your head. Do you understand?”
He’s blank, processing, she breaks his nose with the heel of her hand, “Well?”
Yes, yes, yes, yes, his head bounces like a bobble doll on the dashboard.
Katja takes a big toe, it joins the companion appendage on the filthy carpet,
although, strictly speaking, it was already on the filthy carpet. Katya, behind him,
holds his head by the ears, Katja carves a thin line from one cheek, across his nose
to the other.
She studies him, looks in his terrified eyes, says with an almost more terrifying
calm, “That’s going to leave a mark,” she smiles at him.
Blood covers the entire bottom half of his face, lost finger, lost toe, bullet hole in
his foot, a broken nose and a scar across his face for the rest of his life.
Katja snips the picture wire around his wrists, Katya says, “You might want to call
911, looks like you might bleed out.”
They leave a tortured CJ sitting on the bed, he has to get picture wire off his ankles
in the agony of his injuries, then get to the phone and hope the 911 drone doesn’t
ask so many questions he dies trying to answer them.
In the car, they pull off the latex gloves, leave them inside out, they’ll be shredded
later. Katja has the shell casing from the Glock, and the bullet. It went through
CJ’s foot to the carpet, mashed up but intact. She’d cleaned her knife on his shirt,
when they get home it will be bleached and washed. At the moment, it’s in a
plastic bag in her pocket.
Forty five minutes later, they walk in the door.
Ellen, “Got a cold vodka for ya, dinner is warm in the oven, perfect roasted
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chicken, big ol’ baked potato. Here, give Mani the Glock, she can clean it while
you tell us how it went down.”
Ellen and Mani laugh and applaud the story, told in Katja-speak, even more
entertaining.
Mani, “So Katja completely loses the accent?”
Ellen, “Absolutely, and Katya loses her slight one, they sound like they’re from the
Midwest, no noticeable accent at all. Wigs work out?”
Katja, “We do not look like us, I am whore girl in stack heel and meeney skirt,
sister ees in baggy jean, sneaker and sweatshirt. We haf beeg sunglass. He does not
recognize eef we stand in front of him tomorrow.”
Mani, “You think he’s going to give it up? Stalking the girl?”
Katya, “He would be insane to continue, but he is already insane. No way to know.
If Penny hears about him again, then we will find him and put him down.”
Mani, “Wish I could have been there. Chop off a toe, maybe lop off his sick dick.”
Ellen, “You think you could handle torture?”
Mani, “I like beating you up, just think how horny I’d get torturing a man.”
Ellen, “One way to look at it.”
Katya, “I said one time we didn’t do torture. I was mistaken. We don’t do torture
for money, as a sideline for abusers, I can work with that.”

Seventy

Penny calls a week later, “Whatever it is you didn’t do, the man is gone.”
Katya, “If he stays gone, good enough.”
Penny follows protocol, doesn’t ask for details, “You can do it more often if
you’ve a mind. Women gettin’ shit stomped all over the place.”
“Same rules, no money, fine, but we resolve conflict peacefully, as in we won’t kill
the target, “if they want more, they pay our price.”
“Sure thing, I want a payday too. This other business may not come up that often,
this was a fluke conversation. I don’t want women comin’ to me to fix their bad
decisions. I only pass it to you when I find out accidental like.”
“And with clear information about who and where, I won’t play detective. And be
careful about women with vendettas or other motives, I don’t beat up a guy
because he’s screwing her sister.”
“Fair enough.”
Penny clicks off, Katya sticks the phone in her pocket, “What is for breakfast?”
Ellen, “Café Envie, it’s Saturday, no classes for Mani. She has a bit of housework,
first, we’re going shopping, get our wardrobes updated.”
“Da, okay, don’t bring home things for sisters, we have enough already.”
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They make the short walk, Michael smiles, “Les Quatre Perfections, welcome, you
must have been traveling, oui?”
Katja, “Da, we will haf usual order today, you remember?”
“Two coffees, two black teas, two steak and eggs, farmer’s omelet, shepherd’s
omelet.”
Lady Mary, local trans, blasts in with two of her friends, boyfriends, acolytes, with
Lady Mary it’s hard to tell, “Helloooo girls, Michael’s four perfections, I’d be
jealous if I wasn’t so fabulous.”
Katja, “Da Mary, you are most fabulous person.”
“How sweet, and next month, I complete my transition, the caterpillar between my
legs becomes a beautiful butterfly and I will be fabulously fabulous.”
“You will be all girl then, good, you haf people to help while you make
recovering?”
Lady Mary, “You make it sound like something you do to a ratty sofa,” she laughs,
“I guess in a way it is. Yes, dear one, I have Renaldo and Raymond,” she turns to
her companions, “twins, I need at least two of everything you know.”
Katja looks them over, “Fraternity tweens, da?”
“Fratern..,” she giggles, “fraternal, exactly, not exact copies, no twins in the world
could be as identical as you and Katya. I didn’t know you, I’d think you were
cyborgs, but you kept the accent, Katya lost most of hers. Why is that? Don’t tell
me…so you can tell each other apart! I am correct, just say it.”
“Da, and for Ellen and Mani.”
“Well keep it, you are adorable wiz achzent splendid Russian doll.”
Plates arrive, “Enjoy angels, and be sure to come and see the show when I’m
recovered. I am actually being recovered, all the outfits, songs and sets will be
changed to reflect my completed divine feminine. I shall be amazing.”
Katja, “We will sit een front row and make best applauding.”
Lady laughs again, “I could listen to Katja all day, bye girls, got to get my big boys
fed, they need the stamina,” she sashays off to a table outside.
Ellen, “That woman knows no strangers, warm as a summer breeze.”
Katya, “She had tough time of it, parents hysterical, throw her out. Found a
therapist in New York. Work as drag queen at night, see therapist, spend a fortune
on hormones and transition doctor. Final step, she is tough girl for sure.”
Mani, “Must be a psychological nightmare.”
Katya, “If parents are sensible, home life is fine, some trouble maybe with school,
other kids. If they care for child and protect, it works out. Stupid parents try to
force physical gender on child, then there is trouble.”
Mani, “This place is super, I love steak and eggs, Thai girl, go figure.”
Katja, “Michael runs good place, like Katya Donut, clean, good product, people are
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friendly wiz customer.”

Michael comes over, “We get it right?”
Ellen, “Always good, you run a nice shop.”
“Merci, I have a lot of regulars, like you guys, must be doing something right. Ah,
Gerard, you are in late today.”
Gerard, “Up late, very, two or two thirty. Hello girls, I see you are finishing, can
you linger a bit?”
Katya, “Ellen and Mani have to be off, sister and I can have another tea while you
have..breakfast, lunch.”
Ellen, “We’re off clothes shopping and I don’t want to be all day at it.”
Gerard, “Where to?”
Ellen, “In the Quarter, a couple boutiques I like, maybe Magazine Street but
probably not today. Got housekeeping to do.”
Gerard, “Then revoir mes jeunes amis, always a pleasure.”
Ellen and Mani take off, Gerard has an almond liquor au lait while waiting on his
ham and brie panini.
“Changed my habitual order, usually in here at eight or nine, not ten thirty.”
“Mani came to us, now she and Ellen are steak and egg girls.”
“Mani is such an adorable little thing, so sweet, like dear Ellen.”
Katja, “Da, sweet,” she won’t be filling Gerard in on their murderous side or
Mani’s sadism.
Katya, “What is respectable gentleman doing up at two thirty?”
Gerard, “Well, I wasn’t practicing telekinesis, progress on that score is like
swimming in mud. Still only fluttering bits of paper.”
Katya, “Anything worth doing is tedious and troublesome. Then all of a sudden, a
breakthrough. You must persist.”
“You know, you’re exactly right, thank you,” his sandwich arrives, he takes a bite,
“tasty, I call Michael’s food casual comfort gourmet. Anyway, I was up late
commiserating with a friend, more of an acquaintance really. We meet up at this or
that dinner party, or Galatoire’s, sometimes the Bombay Club.”
“Must haf problem to talk at two een morning.”
“Simply put, he believes he is going insane.”
Katya, “Insane people do not know they are insane, if they did, they would be
sane.”
Gerard, “Good point. I shall mention it to him.”
“So what ees insane?”
“He’s a writer, had decent publishing success, a bit ghostly romantic for my tastes,
but he has an audience. He’s Spanish, publishes in English and Spanish, his stuff is
generally set in Spain, he’s made some forays into New Orleans though. He writes
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on a typewriter, two finger typist. Smokes incessantly, drinks, but only after the
day’s writing is complete. I tell you this to make it clear it isn’t an alcohol
problem. He drinks like the rest of us, and to excess occasionally, but he eats full
meals, perhaps too full, he’s not slim. He’s having visions, I assume like a
schizophrenic might, but they aren’t telling him to do crazy things. He says it
sounds like prophesy, an audible foretelling of the future. He’s not religious, raised
Catholic, but he’s Spanish, they’re all raised Catholic. He would not call himself
religious. What is troubling him is that the prophesies have come true.”
Katya, “So he is not having vision of end of world, or predict earthquake or
flood?”
“No, nothing like that. He said he knew that his housekeeper would have an
automobile accident, and she did, the very next day. Fortunately just a minor
collision, nobody hurt. Another time the child of a friend would become ill and die,
and she did. There have been two other instances. A casual acquaintance with
cancer and woman he knows got an unexpected proposal of marriage.”
Katya, “It it specific? Or vague, like horoscope?”
“Quite specific, he saw the wreck in his head, he saw the child in the hospital just
when the monitor…oh, what do they call it, flatlined. Same for the others.”
“And this information is of no use to him, he cannot do anything with it, or about
it.”
“I suppose he could have warned the housekeeper, but how do you tell a friend his
child will die? If nothing happens, you look strange, even malicious, if it does, you
look even more strange. We think we would like to have information about the
future, it sounds fascinating, but the reality is troubling. He’s done nothing to
encourage it, has no idea where it comes from. He was quite distraught.”
Katya, “He writes ghost story?”
“Yes, there was a movie, before your time, a boyfriend dies but comes back as a
ghost the woman can sense. I forget the name. It was all quite touchy feely. He had
nothing to do with the movie, but that’s his genre, ghosts, allegedly real or
metaphors for ghosts of the past. No ghosts of the future though.”
Katya, “No reason to believe in ghost, or that a ghost could see the future anyway.”
“No theories on what might be happening? I gave up on the occult, maybe I gave
up too soon.”
“Ask him, if you can, has he taken any drugs? Experimented, like LSD, even
marijuana. Writers maybe looking for a different view, a what?… perspective.”
“See no reason I shouldn’t ask, just do it in the context of casual conversation. I’ve
done them myself, in the midst of my occult research. Marijuana made me sleepy,
LSD was only interesting, light show, blended visual environment. No blinding
insights, didn’t feel at one with everything.”
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“And ask if he remembers the dates he took them, do those dates have anything to
do with the visions?”

Seventy One

Twins return home, time to kill before Ellen and Mani return. Katja unburdens
herself of clothing, goes back downstairs where Katya is on a laptop reviewing
numbers from the donut shops. She clicks down the top, turns to see Katja
reclining on the couch, checking to see what might be worth watching tonight.
Nude Katja makes Katya frisky, which is the intent. Katya sits on the edge of the
couch, stokes satiny skin while they check movie channels.
Katja, “Nothing, we will look at Netflix….later.”
She pulls Katya’s head to her, long kisses, finger busy warming. Katya kisses
down the smooth torso, over tight legs. Then up to the point of attack, Katja
groans, small shiver, settles in for a lovely thought free spiral of sensuality. Then
the bodyquake and accompanying hormone hurricane.
Brief break to regain sensibility, then Katja deconstructs Katya and they start in
again. The finale happens upstairs in bed, Katya strapped up, Katja on the
receiving end. A simulgasm, twin tsunamis so to speak.
Katja, “Sister ees fuck brain out.”
“Ellen bought good strapping on device, vibrates against me when I fuck you.
Double buzz.”
Katja is de-strapping Katya when Mani sticks her head in the door, “Oops, sorry.”
“No ees problem, you haf seen already.”
“Now I’m horny, tonight I’ll make Ellen drill me, after I take what I want.”
“You haf new clothes?”
Mani, “Yes, couple of dresses each, pair of shoes, I got a mini skirt that may be
illegal, except it’s New Orleans. The clerk in the store made a pass, she’s cute too,
and high school yummy young.”
“Did you make a connection?”
“Got her number, if we decide to hook up, can I invite her over?”
Katya, “Check her out first, local, out of town, has she been arrested? Better not to
have surprise.”
“Ellen said the same thing. She talked while I tried on stuff, made it sound all
friendly girl chat. Ellen’s good at getting the guard down.”
“Remember, you are student, we have real estate, do not talk about Houston, no
Katya Donut. She will think we make money from property someplace.”
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Mani, “Simple. If you’re done with the toy, I’ll take it, I have to clean your
bathroom anyhow.”
“We will shower first. Tea in half an hour.”
Everyone is downstairs, Ellen pours tea, a plate of sugar cookies for nibbles.
Ellen, “Sarah, the salesgirl. She’s a cutie, all into her school’s track team. The shop
belongs to her mother, they live uptown, the Garden District not far from
Commander’s Palace. I got the smell of money, dad’s a surgeon. I think the shop is
for mom to feel like she’s doing something. Tomorrow, I’ll look up the parents,
Sarah probably has a Facebook page. She’s goes to McGehee, private girls’
school.”
Katya, “How old?”
Ellen, “Sixteen, can’t take her out drinking. She’s into Mani, who’s still seventeen.
We aren’t currently in the equation.”
Katja, “What ees dinner? Something een slow cooker, smells like Mexican.”
Ellen, “Homemade chili, the real kind, with chunks of beef, not ground meat,
jalapeno cheese cornbread, nacho appetizer. Ice cream for dessert, you’ll need it to
level out your gut. New Orleans Ice Cream I get from Rouse’s. Tonight is vanilla
bean, chocolate or satsuma dreamsicle.”
Mani, “I need to get those baths cleaned,” she scurries off to her duties.
Ellen, “She’s keepin’ up with her jobs. Baths are pristine, beds made, laundry don’t
pile up, is folded and put away. She sweeps the courtyard, no dust accumulates in
here, and there’s a load of stuff to be dusted.”
“You are helping as well.”
“Well yeah, geez, this is a big place. I’m around all the time, don’t hurt to run the
mop over the floors, or use the Swiffer on the blinds. If we keep after it a little each
day, things stay neat and orderly. I tell her what I did, she tells me what she did, we
don’t wind up doin’ the same job twice. It’s workin’ out fine.”
To set a chili atmosphere, tonight cocktails are cold Patron shots and a side of
Sapporo, lime wedges and salt. Ellen has nachos basic, shredded cheese,
guacamole and pico de gallo.
They move to the table for bowls of steamy fragrant chili, slab of jalapeno cheese
cornbread. Ellen’s chili is bean free, properly prepared, authentic chili does not
cohabitate with beans.
Mani, “Ellen, the meat is fall apart tender, chili has a nice spice bite.”
“We like warmer, hope I didn’t go overboard.”
“I’m Thai, we put chili sauce on everything.”
Katja, “Best number one cornbreading cake also too.”
Ellen, “Thank you, pretty basic recipes, that slow cooker is the bomb, gets all the
flavors mingled better than marinade.”
 209

Katya relates Gerard’s story, the man who sees the future.
Mani, “What! That’s amazing. Makes you want to believe in ghosts. Thai culture is
full of ghosts, shamans, magic spells, demons. My aunt does all kinds of rituals. A
ghost is called phi, and there are spirit houses where people leave offerings to
prevent bad luck. There must be fifteen or sixteen different kinds of ghosts or
spirits. Asians are full of superstitions.”
Katja, “Are you superstition person?”
“No, when I lived with my aunt, I honored her beliefs, at least I didn’t dis them.
And I participated in rituals when she expected me to. I was living there, she
wasn’t going to be talked out of her ways.”
Ellen, “Actually, I think it was nice of you, didn’t make a fuss over nothing, ‘sides,
it isn’t just Asians, Christians and Muslims believe all kinds of crap.”
Mani, “So what do you think is happening?”
Katya, “I asked Gerard to find out a few things first. If he gets back to me, we will
see. First, another beer.”
An hour later, they’re on the couches watching Wallander, a popular series about a
disillusioned Swedish cop. This is the third episode they’ve seen.
Ellen, “Damn, that is one incompetent detective, he gets everyone killed or
maimed with his bulldozer approach. Dude needs to give it a rest.”
Katja, “Da, he ees supposed to be so smart, but ees always let criminal get away.”
Ellen, “Bathroom break, then we’ll see how many more screw ups he can
accomplish in the last forty minutes. What’s your ice cream preference?”
The twins want half chocolate, half vanilla bean, dreamsicle for Ellen and Mani.
They enjoy frozen fat and sugar while Wallander stumbles his way around the
backwaters of Sweden. Then it’s up to bed. The twins do bedtime things and are
asleep in fifteen, just about when Ellen starts making Mani’s head spin.

Seventy Two

Two days later they’re at Café Envie for breakfast when Gerard walks in.
“Hoping to find you here, I have the answers to your questions.”
Katja, “Sit, we will haf breakfast and you can tell us.”
“Yes, he was experimenting with LSD and Ecstasy. He uses marijuana regularly,
but he has for years, so that’s likely irrelevant to fortune telling. And to the second
part, as best he can recall the dates he took LSD fall around the dates of his
prognostications. Ecstasy he only took twice.”
The girls’ breakfasts show up, Gerard has an almond au lait, orders an omelet and
continues, “So, do you have any theories? Or should I revisit my occult studies and
start a regular regime of LSD?”
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Katya, “Waste of time. He is not predicting anything. He is remembering, but he

thinks what he remembers hasn’t happened yet. A reaction to the LSD. It is called
hallucinogen persisting perception disorder, HPPD. A version of flashbacks
common with LSD.”
Gerard, “Wait, you are saying everything that happened had already happened, but
his brain didn’t recall it that way, he thought it was going to happen.”
“It would be a little like déjà vu. You see a scene you are certain you have seen
before, exactly the same thing, same people, same words. What you are
experiencing is a delayed playback in your head, you did see it, but didn’t
consciously process it, then you get back in the moment and think you are seeing it
a second time.”
Gerard, “Katya, that’s nothing short of astounding. How did you figure it out?”
“I have no use for ghosts, and there is no predicting the future, there had to be
something. Either he had a tumor in his head, or some neural failure that made him
forget he saw something, or did not process consciously, or there was a drug
involved. If he did not take drug, then he has to go to neurologist for brain
problem.”
“My dear girl, how on Earth do you know these things?”
Ellen, “Katya eats information like a shark, feeding all the time. She’s like
Google.”
“Well, most impressive. Any advice for him?”
“Quit taking LSD. He could wind up psychotic, depressed at least. If he keeps on
with the problem anyway, he needs to see a psychiatrist, they have drugs to help.
But only if he keeps having problem or you think his behavior is changing,
depressed, does not go out anymore to restaurant, talk with friends, like that.”
Gerard, “I shall certainly go and see him, right after breakfast. The poor man, he
hasn’t been so much depressed as distraught, wondering if he could have prevented
some of the problems. He will be delighted to learn, he did not know about them
until they were a fait accompli.”
Mani, “What’s a fait accompli?”
Ellen, “A done deal.”
Gerard laughs, “Succinctly put, exactly correct, already over, horse out of the barn
as they say.”
Gerard reaches for his wallet, “I insist on buying breakfast, least I can do. You may
have kept my acquaintance from losing it entirely, and I’ve had the pleasure of
Ellen’s cooking and your fine wine on three separate occasions.”
He settles the tab, they part ways at the door, he’s off to visit the writer. Gerard
never offered a name, the girls didn’t ask, likely he thought the man would want to
retain some anonymity.
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Ellen, “Never did say who the guy was.”

“Does not matter, romance ghost story writer who is Spanish and living in New
Orleans would be easy to find. We do not need to know.”
Mani, “I know who it is. He came out to the university to do a talk. I didn’t go, but
the announcement was on the student website. He’s pretty popular with female
readers. Like you said, doesn’t matter.”
As they are entering the house, Katya’s phone rings, it’s Penny. She listens, clicks
the phone down, for the short conversation, she didn’t say hello, didn’t comment,
didn’t say bye.
“We have a contract for conflict resolution, a big one.”
Ellen, “Hot damn, what?”
“Someone has issue with district attorney in New York, Brooklyn. Penny charges
two hundred to resolve conflict.”
Ellen, “Cool, twenty five apiece, and a trip to flippin’ New York.”
Mani, “I shouldn’t get a quarter, not until I’ve done the business end of the work.”
Katya, “Mani, we do this because it is interesting, we do not need money. Take
your end and be happy, no more talking.”
Katya trusts Mani, to a point. Taking equal pay puts her at equal risk, she can’t say
she wasn’t in, coerced or only a flunky.
Katya, “We will go to New York tomorrow, I will call Blue Sky, book room and
car. Ellen, pack the weapons, we will need two rifles, small Glock for everyone.”
Ellen, “On it, come on Mani, let’s get the cases organized.”
Later, over cocktails, Katya relates what she knows.
“These are photos of target, he is to testify against two developers and a New York
City council member from Brooklyn. In New York, each of the five boroughs has
representatives on the New York City Council. We do not know if indictment has
anything to do with the conflict we are resolving. Maybe man has an angry ex-wife
or owes money to the wrong people.”
Ellen, “If that was it, why pay two hundred?”
“Penny is smart, she checks target every time before agreeing to terms. She tells
client job costs because of notoriety, client agrees. He never said it was because of
the case, did not deny it either, just sent first payment.”
Mani, “Wonder why they pay the second payment, it isn’t like we know how they
are?”
“Because there is always someone who benefits or is looking for revenge. We will
visit anyone with motive, and make them tell us what they know. If that is not
possible, then Penny has to pay out of her end, it is her job to collect.”
Mani, “Ah, that would do it. Ever had to chase down a deadbeat?”
Ellen, “Mani.”
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Mani claps her hand to her mouth, “Shit, I didn’t ask that, some Thai ghost made
me do it. Sorry, I’ll try to avoid being stupid from now on.”
Ellen, “That would be a good idea. You are young, enthusiastic and curious. We
get it. Stick to young and enthusiastic, when it comes to the past, skip the fuck out
of curious.”
Psychopaths don’t cry, and Mani doesn’t, she’s more frustrated with herself than a
rebuke from Ellen. All well and good to be excited over a trip to New York, and
the prospect of killing a locally well known name. But to go where she knows not
to go, been told not to go, too impulsive. Not a sign to encourage the twins’ trust.
She thinks, ‘Come on Mani, shut your mouth and follow instructions, Jesus, it isn’t
hard.’

Seventy Three

They land at Teterboro, a smaller New Jersey field, at two thirty. Car awaits, Ellen
drives them to Hotel on Rivington on the lower east side. Two bedroom terrace
suite, huge space for Manhattan. The terrace alone is nine hundred square feet,
bigger than most one bedroom apartments in Manhattan.
Mani, “Nice place, geez, look at this terrace, glad it’s spring not winter,” she looks
out on the city, “New York is gigantic.”
Ellen, “What I said first time. I was a gawking tourist, staring up at all the
skyscrapers. We going to the Russian Tea Room again?”
Katya, “Maybe, if job goes well. First we go to target’s house. If the case is why
we were hired, they must figure no witness, no case.”
Ellen, “How’d he get on to the councilman?”
“Worked for him, an aide of some sort. Story is developers bribed councilman to
have zoning restrictions lifted, the witness was there when the money was paid.
Why he turned on his boss is not clear.”
Ellen, “Don’t these guys get bribed all the time?”
“Yes, campaign contributions are just legalized bribes, give jobs to friends or
relatives of politician, sometimes something less obvious than a briefcase full of
hundreds.”
Unpacked, they retrieve the car, change the license plate to one from Texas, and
drive across the bridge to Brooklyn. They lift license plates for obvious reasons, in
case an alert citizen copies their plate, or it gets photo’d on CCTV. Despite renting
the cars in fake names, they do have to turn in the rental. That’s a vulnerable
moment if the cops have the rental plate and are looking for the renters. If the
opportunity arises, they’ll return home with one or two New York plates.
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The target lives in a brownstone apartment in Prospect Heights, one of the four
dozen neighborhood designations in the borough.
Ellen, “Gonna be tough to break in, looks like a street job. He have protection? A
cop?”
“Apparently not the kind of case they think needs protection. He is not informing
on a gang, or the mafia. Councilman says it did not happen, witness has political
motive. Nobody says what political motive.”
Katja, “Which means it might be personal, not political.”
“He married?”
“Nyet, boyfriend.”
“Gay, guess the councilman wanted to demonstrate diversity.”
“Councilman ees also gay.”
Ellen laughs, “Where’s the diversity, the black guy, the woman, and the fourth
kind?”
Mani, “What fourth kind?”
“Transgender.”
Mani giggles, “Politically incorrect.”
“Yeah, I guess, but you gotta have a bunch of staff all over the race and gender lot
to be seen as inclusive. In Texas, it’s the opposite, politician can only have white
people and maybe one Mexican, depending on how many Hispanic voters there are
in his district. It’s all scientific now, how they figure out who to pander to.”
Katja, “You haf become expert lesbian in political persons?”
Ellen, “Naw, I make it up as I go along, seems logical though. In Texas, you best
not have staff appearances that include blacks, Indians, Muslims, nothing brown,
except the token Mexican. Up here, it’s just the opposite, too many white people
on board, even the white people won’t vote for you.”
Katja, “Politic ees too complicate, ees anyway all bullshitting.”
“Here’s the apartment. We know anything about the boyfriend?”
Katya, “Nyet, we have a picture, standing near target in one of the photos.”
Ellen surfs the phone, “Yeah, I see him. Nice enough looking couple, slim,
boyfriend has a moustache, ugly things. Who wants to kiss hair? We don’t even
have it on our pretty puskets.”
Katja, “Target ees coming down block.”
And so he is, looks political, apparently politicians haven’t gotten the casual
message. As usual, out of step with the rest of the country. Not necessarily a bad
thing, if you’ve ever been witnessed the horror of Wal-Mart shoppers or airline
passengers in coach, you know what I mean. There’s dressed up, casual, and nasty.
Lots of people have sunk to nasty.
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Katya, “Mani, approach him and ask for directions, Ellen, resolve conflict.”
They hop out, the target is a half block from the steps to his front door. Ellen goes
across the street, jacket draped over the Glock. Mani approaches. She shifts to
broken English mode.
“Sir, sir, you live here, in America New York? I am to meet …ummm.. relative,
how you say….aunt….no can find.”
“Where, what place?”
“Shop, for..,” she’s blank, makes a drinking motion with her hand.
“A bar, no you’re too young….coffee?”
Mani brightens, starts to nod yes while stepping backwards, Ellen pulls the trigger.
Target falls forward, Mani is to his right side. The casing plinks to the concrete,
Ellen scoops it up and pockets it. The bullet stays in his head, no spatter. Take his
wallet, an expensive Baume and Mercier wristwatch and his phone. They do the
half block to the Tahoe, Katja pulls away.
Mani, “How wonderful. I got to do my fakey Asian accent.”
Ellen, “You did great baby girl. He had no idea of me, block was empty.”
Katya, “Two people turned far corner behind us. I doubt they figured out what
happened, the gun is silenced and the license plate, even if they saw it, is from
Texas. Need to swap it back to the rental plate.”
Once in Manhattan, Katja finds an empty alley, backs the SUV in, Katya hops out
and does the switch. Texas plate goes to the bottom of a rank smelling dumpster.
Even the homeless aren’t going to fish around in that nastiness, only the huge New
York City rats.
On the drive to the hotel Katya’s fishing through the dead target’s wallet, “One of
the debit card kind of person, only eighty seven bucks in cash, three credit cards,
driving license, he uses wallet app on phone to pay.”
They stop, toss the wallet and phone down a street drain.
In the room, “We got lucky, no long surveillance, no obvious witness, maybe
somebody looks out of window.”
Ellen, “They didn’t see a gun, I had the jacket to the end of the barrel, shot him at
the base of his neck angled up. His brain is mush with that hollow point in it. No
exit wound.”
Katja’s mind is on other matters, “And just in time for cocktail. Hotel haf bar next
to restaurant.”
Ellen, “I want to shower and get into something better than jeans and sneakers.”
Forty five later, they’re in The Lounge, originality is not it’s strong point. It is well
appointed and has vodka, no Russian Standard, it’s an imperfect world.
Bartender does the required check, the girls hardly pass for twenty one, but their
ID says they are, he’s covered. They order vodka shaken with crushed ice then
 215

strained, the place doesn’t keep it in the freezer.

A quiet toast, “nasmert!'' (to death)
Three drinks later, they’re on the street. The restaurant in the hotel looked rather
tame with a mish-mash menu trying to be eclectic. Walking around, they come
across Les Halles.
Short wait to be seated, then order appetizers. Escargot, pâté, and deviled eggs with
black truffles.
Mani, “Sheesh, Thai girl from Mississippi in New York eating escargot and pâté.”
Katja, “You are liking?”
Mani, “I kind of have to, I’m taking French after all.”
Ellen, “So far so good, this pâté is tasty, I gotta add it to our tea menu at home.”
Entrees of scallops with artichoke barigoule (artichokes braised with onions, garlic
and carrots in a seasoned broth of wine and water) in champagne cream sauce.
Two filets with Béarnaise, one steak au poivre, coated with cracked peppercorn,
sides of truffle fries and haricots verts, fancy name for French green beans, longer
and thinner than the American variety. Cabernet accompanies.
Dessert is an easy choice, profiteroles, cream puffs filled with vanilla ice cream,
Topped with chocolate sauce. They share two orders and a bottle of Taittinger
Prestige Rosé Brut champagne.
Katja, “How ees pronounce? Can’t be tat-in-jer.”
Mani, “No, tah-taun-jay, no r at the end.”
“I am remembering, ees good.”
A quick kill and lusty dinner brings makes for a passionate evening. They play
swap the girl on the terrace, then Katja and Katya strap up and tease with the tips,
then supercharge sensual sentience in Ellen and Mani.
Ellen is kissing Katja, Mani lies crosswise at the end of the bed mumbling
incoherently in Thai.

Seventy Four

Ellen is online having coffee in the sitting room when Katya comes in. She pours
tea and joins Ellen at the table.
Ellen, “Made the news of course. No mention of witnesses, but they may be
keeping that quiet.”
“What does it say?”
“Jason Marceau, former aide to New York City councilman Darren Wilkins, found
shot a few steps from his Prospect Heights home. Robbery appears to be the
motive.”
 216

It goes on to mention the rift between the two, Marceau due to testify in a bribery
case next month. Wilkins has no comment other than decrying street violence. He
refused to answer questions about upcoming grand jury hearings. It talks a bit
about Marceau’s partner, a sometimes actor, photo of him boohooing.
Katya, “Anything distinctive about the SUV? Other than the license plate?”
“I taped over the rental agency sticker, black like the car. There was nothing that
stood out in the dark tint windows. It’s a nice car, but looks like a million others.
We had head scarf, big sunglasses, I wore latex gloves, but neither of us touched
anything. I got the cartridge casing, pitched it down a drain. There’s nothing, even
if they caught it on CCTV. And even if they had something on the SUV, it’s rented
in the name of a woman who doesn’t exist. If there’s a problem, it will show up at
the airport when we return the car. But it would be a miracle to connect the Tahoe
at the scene with the one returned.”
Katja comes along, “We are good?”
Katya, “Da, nothing, usual news babble. Do you want to stay a couple more days?”
“Let Ellen take Mani around town, and Ellen, hire a car, don’t use SUV, let it sit in
parking lot until we go home. I am for staying in room, not fight way around city
all day. New York ees impress wiz New York, but Katja ees not impress wiz New
York.”
Ellen, “I need to clean the Glock.”
Katya, “ I will do it. When Mani is up, get dressed and go for a ride, 5th Avenue,
Central Park, find spot for lunch, driver will wait, come back for tea. We will
figure out dinner place. Tomorrow home, enough New York.”
Ellen, “You don’t want to do the Russian Tea Room?”
“Nyet, you make Beluga blini and beef stroganoff at home just as good.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet. I’ll make it first day back, well, not the travel day, day after.
I’ll just let Mani see the city from the comfort of the car, I’m sure the driver can
make up stories and hit the common sights. Lemme get something arranged.”
An hour later, she and Mani are off for a ride around Manhattan. Katya is online
looking at sales numbers for the donut shops and their commercial property. One
of the shops is in a building they own, along with a dry cleaners and a martial arts
school. Revenue from the two leases paid the mortgage. Then they stole millions
from the drug operation so Katya paid it off . Cash flow from rent just piles up in
an account for Katya Donut, pretty much untouched except for the odd repair and
maintenance.
They walk to Chinatown for lunch, find a busy place as the best guess for quality.
Katja, “Lots of Chinese persons eating, must be okay place.”
Over hot and sour soup and Szechuan shrimp, they think over a project, mentally
speaking to each other.
 217

Katya, “What if we can find big drug dealer again, figure out where he keeps cash
and steal it?”
Katja, “How to find beeg feesh?”
“Start with small one, watch. He gets product from somebody, who gets it from
somebody. Sooner or later, we wind up at big boy. Then we follow the money. They
have to keep it someplace.”
“Zoup ees good, ah, and now shreemp.”
The waitress puts the platter between them. It’s not shy on shrimp, jumbo too, and
a pile of stir fried vegetables all with tangy dark Szechuan sauce.
Katya, “Place is busy for a reason, dishes are excellent, price is fair.”
Katja, “What ees dinner? We haf steak last night, Chinese today.”
“Wait and see where they had lunch. Maybe an Italian place.”
Twins take a walk around Chinatown, then up through what’s left of Little Italy,
which is being cannibalized by Chinatown. As they stroll down Chrystie St.
towards Rivington, the come across Rubriosa Ristorante, stop to study the menu in
the glass.
Katja, “They haf bar inside, menu looks good.”
Katya flips through her phone, “Good rating. If they don’t have Italian for lunch,
we can come here. Not even a half mile from hotel.”
They return to the hotel room. Quiet afternoon, alone together, glass of wine on the
terrace, one thing leads to another. In this case Katja’s orgasm leads to Katya’s.
Shortly after, Ellen and Mani return, “Hey there bad girls,” she’s poked her head in
the twins’ bedroom, “ready for tea?”
They unwind from each other, “Da, we will be out in a minute.”
Tea on the terrace, Ellen picked up pâté and crackers from Zabar’s, “We had
Chinese for lunch too, Wu Liang Li near Rockefeller Center. Place was packed.
Our driver was great. I asked for someone who knew about the city and could
speak passable English. He’s been driving for twenty years and an original New
Yorker, told us all about the neighborhoods and what building was what. Up
through Times Square, what a zoo. Clean up to Harlem, then down through Central
Park.”
Mani, “The Metropolitan is crazy packed outside with tourists. Inside must be nuts.
Then we went along 5th Avenue, that’s when he dropped us off at Wu Laing Li,
went and parked the car. Ellen insisted he come to lunch with us. Afterwards back
through midtown, then Soho, Chinatown all the way to Battery Park. We bought
coffees from street vendors, just kept moving.”
Mani, “So much here, it’s kind of overwhelming. But I got to see all the places you
hear about and see bits of on TV shows and movies. Our driver was Gennaro, had
a thick New York accent, he and Ellen laughed at each other, her southern, his
 218

totally Queens, with extra Italian thrown in. They talked food. He said it was his
best day driving. She gave him a big tip.”
Katja, “Good, you haf a nice day, see the city wiz no walk, walk, walk. Take a
break, we will shower, haf vodka and go to Italian place maybe at seven.”
By seven fifteen, they are seated, vodkas served, bottle of Chianti coming. They
skip salads, two orders of fried calamari appetizer. Then lasagna for two with
mozzarella, tomato, sausage and meatballs. Tilefish and chicken with caramelized
onions round out the entrees.
Ellen, “So yummy, lasagna was excellent,” she drags a hunk of ciabatta through
the remaining sauce.”
Mani, “We don’t have meatballs at home, they’re kind of tasty.”
Ellen, “I got a good tomato sauce recipe too, from cooking school. One that you
wear down all day, old style. I might dust it off one weekend when I can check on
it regular. Or I can put it in a slow cooker, that’s it, don’t have to watch and stir so
much.”
Dinner draws to a close, Ellen, “Time to get to the room, I got plans for young
Mani, you two want in?”
Katya, “We have already sex, Mani will like you for herself maybe. Sister and I
will have a nightcap, watch something on TV. We leave for airport at nine fifteen,
flight is ten, home by noon.”
Katja pays the tab, hotel is a ten minute walk, Ellen and Mani goodnight and go to
their room, the twins prop up pillows in bed, Katya surfs movies while Katja
makes drinks. Then they settle in to watch the last James Bond, Skyfall.
Katja, “Moovey ees okay, except listen to James Bond and woman always
complain about being old.”

Seventy Five

Ellen, “Ahhh home, just leave the suitcases, Mani and I will deal later.”
Katja, “Just only pizza for dinner.”
Ellen, “I’ll go to Rouse and get something prepared, Mani, deal with the suitcases
please, I’m going to the store.”
Katja and Katya sit in the courtyard and veg. It’s approaching three, tea will be in
an hour or so.
Katya mentals, “Mani did well, she’s in too deep now and she seems to truly like
the work.”
“She ees most sociopath person of all of us.”
“I am trusting more, not completely. She is impulsive, asking questions, but she is
young. We will see if she learns lesson and no more ask about our past.”
“You think she ees dangerous to us?”
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“If she were to get access to our accounts, may be tempting for her.”
“She does not know how much we haf, Ellen would never say.”
“I think it might be good to find more cartel money. Make her rich, she will not
anymore think to get our money. Anyway, I do not want to be too paranoid, if she
is going to work with us, we need to trust her. Find a drug connection, we will give
her dangerous job, she will have to kill.”
“Make her find drug connection.”
Katya cocks her head, “Sister has good idea.”
Ellen found fresh catfish at the store, she’s cutting it in crosswise strips for baking,
a box of Panko breadcrumbs on the counter. Katja is standing next to her, Mani is
dealing with laundry, Katya is in her room reviewing spreadsheets.
Ellen, “I’m doing crusted catfish with baked beans and a salad. The prepared stuff
looked boring and this is easy enough.”
“Good, favorite, I will heat beans and chop ohnyon. Also, stop for a minute, I need
to tell you something.”
Ellen quits slicing, turns to Katja, “We are giving Mani test. She will track low
level drug dealer to boss. When we figure out where the money ees, we will steal
it. Then we will give her beeg cut. Sister and I think it safer for us eef Mani ees
rich girl on her own.”
Ellen, “You think she may go after our money?”
“We do not know, we want to trust, but she came to us differently than you. We
had good money when you came along, but we all did the drug dealer together and
made us reech.”
Ellen, “So she does most of the legwork, takes a lot of the risk at first, if we score
and she gets a ton of money, she’s got no reason to risk screwing us around. She’d
have to be crazy, screwing with the three of us.”
“Da. So, now you know, when Katya brings it up.”
Ellen, “Okay, I want to think her trustworthy, and she’s done nothing but make a
coupla kid mistakes. But, you’re right, we can’t just overlook that, we need her to
jump in the fire.”
They have cocktails, dinner, Cognac in the courtyard.
Katya, “Mani, we have a project for you. We think if we track drug deals, we can
find out where the money goes. The street dealer turns money over to someone,
who turns it over to someone else. Eventually, all that money winds up in a pile
someplace, do you understand?”
Mani, “Then what?”
“We steal it.”
Mani smiles, “Cool. What do I do?”
“You will learn surveillance and tracking by doing surveillance and tracking. You
 220

are going to find out where the pile is.”

Mani, “Awesome, seems like a lot of late nights.”
“Da, and being careful. We are not interested in ripping off one small drug deal,
you must keep following until the money stops, you understand?”
“Yes, it needs to be a big fat payday.”
Katya, “And you will do most of the work, we come in if needed, and at the end to
get the cash. For that, you will get maybe a bigger piece than one quarter.”
“No shit? You don’t have to do that, I’d do my end for the usual split. You’ve
already been more than fair, I haven’t shot anyone and still got a quarter of the
contract.”
Ellen, “You have more than half the work, this could take weeks of following
dangerous people, maybe a few months. Late nights and on mostly your own.
Training on the firing line, you should be rewarded accordingly.”
Mani, “A challenge, if the big money can be found, I will find it.”
Katya, “Don’t get brave or stupid. If one trail is too dangerous, drop it, something
easier will come along. Do not buy drugs, do not interact with anyone. You should
watch, follow along and find out who gives money to who. Even use the video cam
on your phone. All your work should be in the shadows. You are looking for the
final drop, the last guy in the chain, there is always a boss, the main man.”
Mani, “It’s possible that some second in command delivers the actual cash to
wherever they store and count.”
Katya, “Exactly, but it will be someone close to the boss, not some street kid. They
will be armed, they will not be nice. If you think you are even remotely in danger,
leave and get away. Drugs are everywhere, something else will turn up.”
Mani grins, “This is so flipping great. Except, like, where do I start?”
Katya, “I have a few ideas.”

Seventy Six

Katya and Katja are at Café Envie with Gerard.

Gerard, “Where are the others?”
Katja, “Somebody haf to work, take care of house, Mani ees still in school.”
Gerard laughs gently, “Of course, I haven’t done productive work in so long, I’ve
forgotten that most people do.”
Katya, “We have questions, you may be able to help.”
Gerard, “Of course, if I can.”
“We want to know about drug traffic in New Orleans. A curiosity question only.
We also don’t want anyone to know we are asking.”
Gerard, “Well, aside from a contact of mine who supplies my few indulgences, I
 221

have no idea. I get a bit of marijuana, I’ve tried a couple of other things, cocaine,
LSD. Not much my style, but you know that already.”
“No, don’t ask him. Can you ask police friend, like a curiosity question, just chit
chat with a pal? Does he know who supplies drugs in New Orleans. Like you are
wondering out of curiosity where all the drugs come from, who are these people?”
Gerard, “Ah, not so hard, casual conversation. It isn’t like they’ll see me as some
kind of drug vigilante, just the curious old man they know in the French Quarter.
Yes, I see what you need. Let me work on it, is there a hurry?”
Katya, “None.”
“Good then, you know, I also know someone else, an old acquaintance. Best he
remain anonymous, he may also be able to help, in fact, I’m certain of it.”
Katya, “Okay, but casual, as if it is only a passing whim, do not arouse suspicion.”
“Not to worry dear girl. Gerard is known for rambling conversation and eclectic
interests, after all, I’m the one who dabbles in mental mysteries. Sometimes it’s
useful to be seen as a dotty old guy who fritters away the hours with momentary
interests, only to be forgotten the next day.”
Katja, “Da, ees good, make people think you are bored and keel time only.”
Gerard smiles, “It’s worked for me more times than I can recall.”
They finish up, Gerard stays for a second almond liquor au lait, the twins settle up
and return to the house.
Ellen is in the kitchen, “How’s roast beef po-boys sound tonight? I got chuck roast
in the slow cooker, make a rich brown gravy later.”
Katja, “Smells already good. We saw Gerard, he ees to make inquiry wiz police
friend. He also said he knows someone who may be familiar wiz who is what in
drug business in New Orleans. Maybe cut down time Mani needs to track money.”
“That would help, makes me antsy to think about her prowling the streets alone.”
Katya, “Will do her good to do some of it. I have changed my mind, you should go
with her. Do not do anything stupid, is not that important. I want to test her, but I
do not want her hurt for no reason, just to snoop on drug dealers. She can watch the
deals, you can watch the rest.”
Ellen, “Good, I feel better. Gotta say, she was pumped about it, she wants to prove
herself.”
Katya, “She can still do that with you along. Obviously go armed, Mani too.”
“She’ll like that part.”
Katja and Katya do Skype calls to the shop managers, Maria is training a new girl,
otherwise the places are running normally. Katya already knows, she reviews the
accounts daily. The calls are to say hi and let anyone bring up anything on their
minds. Today employees are on the call, Katya asks about school, how life outside
the shop is going. It’s not her temperament, but she’s learned that the girls like to
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tell their stories, and like it that the bosses are interested.
Katya says they have to keep their grades high. Houston uses a different lettering
system, E (excellent 90-100) S (satisfactory, above average 80-89) P (passing,
below average 75-79) U (unsatisfactory 70-74).
Katya Donut pays fifty buck bonuses for Es and twenty five for Ss. One girl gets
straight Es and earns an extra two fifty every six weeks. All the girls get something
because Katya won’t let them work unless grades are S or E. Some are in college,
they get paid for As and Bs. Maria gets a percent of profit from all stores,
individual store managers get a percent of profit from their store. Katya pays the
bonuses for good grades out of pocket, not out of store profits, it wouldn’t be fair
to managers.
The phone calls chew up a couple of hours, then the twins and Ellen have a
workout, the one slave quarter has a treadmill, bike and rowing machine, heavy
bag, leg press and curl machine, another for lat pull downs and curls. Ellen is on
something almost every day when they’re home.
Mani comes in at three, she’s changed into sweats and starts on the heavy bag.
Ellen, Katja and Katya are wrapping up and sucking down glasses of cold water.
There’s a small kitchen in the place, Ellen had water filtration systems in the main
house and the two apartments, one is a normal bedroom and bath, the other is the
workout room.
Ellen, “She’s pretty strong for a small girl, quick with those hands.”
Katja, “She makes good contact wiz her punch and keek. Speed makes up for her
size, quick wiz feet also.”
Mani is triple tapping the heavy bag with roundhouse, then side and back kicks.
She follows with spinning kicks, her best kick, she can zip a spin and thunk the bag
with her heel over her head. She also does it airborne, a flying spinning.
Ellen, “Great form Mani, you got that sucker nailed.”
Mani grins, “Don’t know if I’ll ever get to use it, but it’s fun to make it happen. By
the way, I’m skipping summer school, I can do the other thing without getting up
for class after a late night of spying.”
Katya, “We talked it over, you will do the work with Ellen along. It doesn’t feel
safe, doing the surveillance without a second set of eyes. Too easy to get surprised
for instance. Also, wait for a while, we have lines out for leads. If they come
through, you may be able to skip following around the little guys to get to the
bigger ones.”
Mani, “Can’t say I’m disappointed, sounded lonely, but I would have done it.”
“I know you would have, this is better. We don’t need to know all the small fish,
we just want to get to the money.”
Ellen, “Time to clean me up and prep tea, need to check on my roast beef.”
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Tea comes and goes, cocktails assembled at six thirty. The girls like their routines.
The nature of conflict resolution, plus businesses in Houston, offers enough
variety. When they are at home, it’s relaxing for the twins to float along in the lazy
river way of the Crescent City.

Seventy Seven

Two days ease by, Gerard calls, “My police contacts suggested names, I found out
more about the drug trade than I need to know. What they said was fleshed out by
my acquaintance.”
Katya, “Come over for drinks, Ellen has a big pot of red beans and sausage
simmering, batch of jalapeno cheese cornbread.”
Gerard, “My goodness, absolutely, what time works?”
“Cocktails six thirty, dinner whenever.”
Gerard, “Girls after my own heart, see you in a couple of hours.”
Later, seated in the courtyard, Mani brings preferred beverages, Gerard likes
bourbon, lots of ice, splash of water. Ellen likes bourbon as well, keeps Maker’s
Mark around, one of Gerard’s preferences. Tonight she offers him a surprise,
Elijah Craig's 21 year old.
Gerard, “My God, Ellen you surpass yourself, this is marvelous. How did you
come on it?”
“The class in Houston, for wine mostly, but they covered distilled spirits. I got into
this one myself, none of us girls were born when they put it in the barrel. Tasty
isn’t it?”
“Heavenly is more like it.”
“Enjoy, it isn’t available anymore.”
Katya, “How is telekinesis coming?”
Gerard brightens, “I moved a pencil, not a guess, not a draft, I moved it. I did a
small dance. I had to blink and catch my breath, completely surprised myself .”
“And you attribute it to simply sitting still?”
“Yes, entirely. I am more convinced than ever that all our activity, physical and
mental, is blocking our perception. That children see mysteries, but are too soon
shoveled into structured busyness.”
Katya isn’t going into the long nights she and Katja had nothing to do but sit in a
dark house until the morning. How they learned to talk mind to mind from just
sitting in the silence, being absorbed into it.
Gerard, “Regarding our other investigation, here’s what I found out. The drug
business in Louisiana is small time. All the product comes from Atlanta or Florida.
If you want to find the end players, you have to go there. In south Louisiana, a
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couple of people might bring in fifty or sixty thousand in marijuana, the same in
cocaine, less in hallucinogens or pain relievers, like oxycontin. New Orleans, and
south Louisiana for that matter, is relatively small and particularly poor. Louisiana
has just over four million people in total, Atlanta alone is nearly six million. All the
locals are small potatoes. Nothing little gangs are shooting each other over a
hundred dollar drug deal.”
Katya, “Were you able to get names of big potatoes?”
Gerard, “Two, one in Atlanta, a second in Miami. Atlanta has a black cartel run by
a man called Abd al Razik, an African Muslim name. Muslims are fine with
feeding Americans drugs. Supply is plentiful, lots of money for the cause.”
Katya, “And Miami?”
“Colombian of course. Francisco Calderon is the alleged kingpin, he is alleged to
have nasty associates, family, nephews, cousins, all on payroll, some quite vicious.
Be careful what you take on, if taking on something is the reason for your
curiosity.”
“We are looking for information only, for a friend in Houston. He was curious
about the nature of the drug business in New Orleans. I told him I would ask
around. Didn’t ask why he wanted to know. It is interesting, New Orleans is a
fairly easy place to smuggle things, big port, casual airport security, long
unguarded coastline, cheap politicians and a bribable justice system. I would have
thought it would be a good distribution center, but I know almost nothing about the
drug business.”
Gerard smiles, “I am completely in the dark. As I said, I use one local for my
minor marijuana supply. I don’t do the other anymore, it was only experimental
and I learned nothing.”
Mani supplies a second round of drinks, after which they move inside for dinner.
Gerard, “Ellen, you always make the simple seem gourmet. Red beans with tender
ham pieces, lots of chopped onion, garlic and tasty chunks of sausage. The
cornbread is divine, superb southern cooking.”
“Thank you. I leaned all kinds of fancy recipes at school, my girls like New
Orleans and southern staples best. Save a bit of room, I whipped up an apple cherry
crumble that will make you cry, specially when I douse it with crème fraiche.”
Mani, “You make that all the time, I was amazed at how simple it is.”
“Heavy cream and a bit of buttermilk, let it sit for twelve hours covered in a warm
spot, quick stir and refrigerate.”
Conversation moves on to other matters. If Gerard suspects the girls have other
than stated motives for asking, he is gentlemen enough not to pursue it. He knows
whatever it’s about they aren’t the type to get into the drug business, nor to use
them even casually.
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Dessert with a Cognac chaser, everyone’s a little tipsy, Katja says, “Gerard, you
will show us moving pencil, ees okay to ask?”
Gerard, “I can give it a shot, if it doesn’t work I can shift the blame to twenty one
year old bourbon.”
Mani finds a pencil, “Where do you want it?”
“Just on the table, I didn’t do anything special at home. It takes me a bit to generate
the energy.”
They sit silently, Gerard focuses on the pencil, nothing happens for five, eight, ten
minutes. Then it rolls a few inches towards Ellen.
Applause, Gerard says, “Whew, I nearly blew a fuse I was concentrating so hard.
Easier to do in a more sober state I think.”
Katja, “Ees still remarkable, you can move mahter wiz brain. Your hours of
nothing rewarded, you are congratulate.”
“Thank you dear girl. I admit to a bit of pride, after wondering if I had wasted
thousands of hours on nothing.”
Mani, “People watch TV for thousands of hours and only pollute their brains with
nonsense and commercials. Nothing would be an improvement.”
Gerard, “You know, you are correct young Mani. We do spend an enormous
amount of time distracting ourselves, don’t we?”
Katya, “Who is the person in New Orleans who gets the drugs here, from either
Atlanta or Miami. Or maybe, who is driving there with money to buy wholesale
and bring it back to New Orleans to sell retail. There must be some central source.”
Gerard, “Oh, caught up in the big boys and my little demonstration, I didn’t say,
did I? That would be Paul Castellan and David Ignatius. Again, it’s thought they
are small time, enough to supply local demand. Not sure who supplies all of south
Louisiana. Maybe those two are tied up in it. Ignatius has been arrested before,
assault, I have a mug shot. Castellan has been clean, but they say if you see the
one, you see the other.”
He hands the photo over to Katya, she comments, “Nothing special, an off the rack
guy, they all have a three day growth of beard, why?”
Ellen, “Makes them look macho, that’s what they think anyway, with the
encouragement of many women.”
Katya, “Makes them look sloppy.”

Seventy Eight

Katya mulls it over a day, then tells Ellen, “You and Mani will track Ignatius and
Castellan. Either someone brings product to them, or they go get it. Castellan is
 226

listed as owner of a house in Lakeview, put tracker device on any car there, be
careful.”
Lakeview was most severely impacted by Katrina, and maybe half the former
homes have been rebuilt in all this time. No home was salvageable, water was over
the roof. Many people didn’t have flood insurance, it had never flooded so severely
and it wasn’t required for a mortgage. How people could ignore the fact that they
lived below sea level, and there was a massive lake and two huge drainage canals
bordering their neighborhood is one of life’s mysteries. At the time, flood
insurance was maybe three hundred bucks a year for an average home. You don’t
spend three hundred dollars to protect a quarter million or more investment?
Now the rebuilt homes are on stilts, or the ground underneath had been elevated
ten feet or more. Lots of people now live on the hill in a place where there were no
hills.
Ellen and Mani are in a rented sedan, down the block from Castellan’s.
Mani, “One car in the drive, if there’s another, it’s in the closed garage. House is
dark too.”
Ellen, “I’m texting the make, model and plate to Katya, she’ll figure out who the
car belongs to.”
Fifteen minutes of nothing, then, ‘Ignatius, tag it.’
Ellen, “Okay tasty Thai, take this and stick it under the car where I showed you, be
quick, don’t hesitate.”
The Spark Nano goes on the metal brace behind the bumper, impossible to spot
unless the car is on a rack.
Mani climbs in, Ellen says, “It’s live.”
Mani, “Now what?”
“We can’t get to a car in the garage, if there is one. Either they aren’t going
anywhere or they’re someplace together in another car.”
She calls Katya, relates progress.
Katya, “I did more digging on Castellan, he’s part owner of a bar in Metairie. He
drives a year old BMW, mid range 328 model, black,” she gives her the plate
number, “go to the bar, he may be there now.”
Ellen clicks off, “We’re gonna go to Blackie’s Pub, pool hall in the burbs.
Castellan owns a piece, Katya wants us to see if we spot his wheels.”
Ellen circles the block, there’s a small parking lot, the BMW sits on the end.
“Whatever’s happening is happening inside, it’s deserted out here, stick the tracker
while it’s quiet.”
While Mani plants the device, Ellen calls Katya, “BMW is tagged.”
Katya, “Watch for a while. Pool hall is as good a place as any to distribute to street
dealers.”
 227

They can see inside, partially anyway, from the plate glass entrance door. It’s
typical, they aren’t appealing to any high end shooters. There are average guys, the
bar is wooden, stools too. A flat screen shows MMA videos.
A van pulls into the small lot, black guy hops out, goes inside. A few minutes later,
he’s out again with two medium size duffle bags, tosses them in the van, gets back
in the passenger side and the van leaves.
Ellen, “Let’s see where van man goes.”
They follow down the interstate, exit Carrollton Avenue, up Carrollton to St.
Charles, across to River Road, called Leake Avenue, left to Audubon Park. It’s
dark, after ten. Van stops, there are two sedans, bodies exit, visit the passenger
window of the van, take a package and leave. The van heads down Magazine
Street. Two more deliveries, one in the vacant Whole Foods lot on Magazine.
A right at Felicity, left to Annunciation, another drop at Annunciation Square.
Over to Tchoupitoulas Street, right to St. Peter, left to the foot of Canal Street by
the ferry landing. Final drop there. It’s after eleven, and the girls are conveniently a
mile from the house on Ursulines.
They have a drink with the twins, Ellen says, “At least the one van picks up at
Blackie’s, then makes a run uptown all the way to Canal Street. They have the
Tulane Loyola college crowd, uptown gentry, warehouse district and French
Quarter covered.”
Katya, “So another someone picks up for the suburbs, Lakeview, Gentilly, and
probably a third for across the lake in Mandeville and Covington.”
“Good a guess as any. Across the lake may be someone else entirely. We aren’t
looking to track deliveries over there, much less Baton Rouge and the rest of south
Louisiana.”
Katya, “No. You did the major part of the job at the Lakeview house and the pool
hall, trackers on both Castellan and Ignatius.”
Katja, “Forget house. They won’t haf drug delivery at home unless they are stupid.
We haf only to watch pool playing place I think. Either they go out of town to
collect, or the delivery ees at Blackie bar.”
Katya, “Then until we see one of their cars going to Atlanta or Miami, watch
Blackie’s. There will be a car, truck, van, something with Georgia or Florida
plates.” ***
Mani, “What if there’s a middleman between here and there?”
Katya, “Good point. Still look for car with out of state plate, Mississippi or
Alabama maybe. Nothing else between Georgia or Florida. Watch for a week.
Track any car from those states. Maybe instead, they leave town, then we follow.”
Ellen, “I’ll keep an eye on battery use. Mani and I can sneak around and replace
trackers if it’s necessary.”
 228

Katja, “How meeny do we haf?”

Ellen, “Good question, only four, I’ll order a half dozen in the morning, have them
overnighted.”
Mani, “Geez, I’m whacked, need to sleep.”
Ellen, “Take Castellan, I’ll take Ignatius. Castellan’s tracker will go off when he
leaves the bar, if he goes anyplace but home, we need to get busy, tired or not.”
Just then, the text comes, Castellan is on the move. They follow the dot, it beelines
to the Lakeview house, then blinks off.
Ellen, “Good, we aren’t driving to Atlanta tonight. Keep it next to you anyway. If
he wakes up to go out of town, we need to get in behind him.”
Mani, “If I get a few hours sleep, I’m good.”

Seventy Nine

Mani does her duty, she and Ellen spend two weeks monitoring the pool hall and
bar. They leave when they get the text, usually it’s Castellan’s BMW, sometimes
Ignatius’ SUV, a white Tahoe. During the day, the cars go here and there around
the city, but they don’t range far.
Katya, “We will follow only if they go past Slidell. We can catch up easily
enough.”
Ellen, “Nothing’s come to the bar that looks like a drug delivery, no cars from out
of state, at least not the states we’re looking for. One truck was from Texas, but a
guy and a girl got out, both carrying cases for a cue stick, just traveling hustlers.”
Mani, “And we’ve seen only one other van that makes deliveries. We’ve tracked
the first van, it makes the same four stops all the time. The second goes to Kenner,
a public playground in Metairie, then to Mid-City and Gentilly.”
Katya, “Must be needing supply soon. They deliver every other day, even if it is
relatively small amounts, it adds up. From what you’ve seen, they might do more
business than Gerard’s connection thinks. Keep watch, tedious every night, but at
least it is only the bar, no reason to follow around deliveries. Take the trackers off
the delivery vans, creates a problem if they are discovered.”
They retrieve the trackers like they attached them. The vans sit unattended while
the men go inside to swap money for drugs. It has to be counted, a tally of drugs
going out verified. Nobody wants any misunderstandings. They’ve also swapped
out trackers twice for Castellan and once for Ignatius, his Tahoe goes almost no
place. They travel together in Castellan’s sedan and Gerard was correct, you see
one, you see the other.
 229

Ellen, “Never see girls.”

Katja, “Maybe ees queer drug dealers.”
Mani giggles, “Katja, are you profiling our targets?”
“Da, you haf watch for two weeks, no sign of woman, always together.”
Ellen, “No sign of women at the bar, at least not that they come or go with. But we
aren’t monitoring the house, girlfriends might go there, or they get delivery, like
pizza.”
Katya, “Does not matter who they fuck, not going to fuck us, we only need to
know who they get drugs from.”
Mani laughs, “There’s the truth of it.”
At breakfast, a text arrives, it’s the Tahoe.
Ellen, “That one hasn’t left this early since we’ve been lookin’.”
Katya, “Get dressed.”
It doesn’t take long to see the dot heading down I-10, past Gentilly and New
Orleans East on to the twin spans, dual bridges that cross the span between Lake
Pontchartrain and Lake Borne, which leads to the Gulf of Mexico.
Weapons and clothes are already packed. Four girls are in the new SUV, an
Escalade Platinum.
Ellen drives, “Man I could ride this baby around the world, glad we sprung for it.
The Honda CRV is good for everyday, but a long trip, this is the way to go. If God
drives, she’s got one of these suckers.”
Katya is following the Tahoe on her phone screen, “Passing Bay St. Louis. If he is
going to Atlanta, they will take I-65 off I-10. Maybe seven hours.”
Ellen, “I can press it a bit, gas is full and we have a twenty six gallon tank, but so
does a Tahoe.”
Two hours, the Tahoe is stopped, Ellen asks, “Likely gas or call of nature, should
we gas up now too? We made up some ground pushing eighty.”
Katya, “Get gas, make it quick, maybe they screw around a little. I am concerned
they meet their connection halfway, say Montgomery. If they do, the deal could be
done and the Atlanta connection gone.”
Ellen, “Sheeyt, I never thought of that. I’ll fill the sucker, let’s get back on the
road.”
Quick restroom stop, coffee to go, no time for anything else, on the road again,
Katya says, “Small break, they are still stationary. I hope this isn’t the meeting,
we’re what, twenty or twenty five minutes behind.”
Ellen, “Want me to goose it higher?”
“No, traffic cop and ticket, we’re screwed. Keep it five miles over the limit. We
can hope there is some conversation, something to keep both sides together for a
bit. If not, we have a feel for where they go, we get them next time.”
 230

The Tahoe starts to move, continuing north on I-65.

Katya, “Good, that wasn’t the meeting.”
Mani, “What doesn’t this car have? I got a TV screen on the back of your seat.
Headphones come with the car. Six bucket seats I could curl up and nap in. Christ,
rich is good.”
Katja, “Car ees only ninety thousand.”
Mani, “That’s what I want to say one day, car ees only ninety thousand.”
Ellen laughs, “We pull this deal off, you will be sayin’ it.”
Drive on, the scenery picks up from the drab nothing of I-10 to the more rolling
hills north on I-65. Four hours, they’re twenty miles from Montgomery Alabama.
Katya, “Tracker ees again stop. Let me see,” she clicks around the map, “a motel,
Super 8. Low key, nobody pays attention.”
Ellen, “Now let’s hope they visit, count money, check the drugs long enough for us
to get there anyway.”
Fifteen minutes and only ten miles over the limit, they pull in a hundred yards from
the Tahoe. It’s parked in front of a room, next to it is a U-Haul van, big green
lettering, 19.95 a day.
Ellen, “Not the world’s worst idea. People just see someone moving.”
Katya, “Get gas. If this is the delivery car, we need to follow it now.”
Shell station across the street, Katja watches while Ellen fills the tank, everyone
goes to the ladies, another round of coffee. Just as they pull into the Super 8 lot, the
door to room 115 opens. Ignatius and Castellan come out with boxes, six trips in
and out of the room. They wave at whoever in inside, climb in the Tahoe and pull
away.
Katya monitors, right back down I-65 the way they came.
“We got lucky, and were prepared, had our car packed and ready. Twenty minutes
the wrong way an we’re doing this again.”
Two black men exit, close the door to 115, get in the U-Haul.
Ellen, “Too bad we couldn’t get close enough to track the van.”
Katya, “Not so important. Hard to lose an orange van, and it’s just going to be
turned in. We need to make sure not to lose the car they left at the U-Haul place.”
True to prediction, they follow the van to a rental location in Montgomery, one
man goes to turn in the van, the other transfers bags from the back of the van to the
trunk of a Mercedes GL class SUV.
Mani, “Nice car. I can pull this off,” she shucks her jeans, “Ellen take a tracker,
I’m gonna distract our boy.”
She hops out, now she’s in only a t-shirt and sneakers, strolls alongside the
Mercedes, the man has just finished loading the last bag, he shuts the hatch.
 231

“Nice car, you like?”

He looks her over, she’s beaming her best wattage smile, his eyes tour curvy legs,
“Yeah, great ride. Hey, maybe you take a spin? Bring your right back.”
Mani, “Tempted, just under age, my folks would freak, they’re over at the Ihop
getting extra cholesterol. I don’t eat that shit, that’s why I’m so cute.”
His pal returns, “What’s this?”
“She’s just complimenting the car, mom and dad be over the Ihop eating crap she
don’t like.”
Second looks her over, “Good to watch your diet little girl, looks like you keep
your shit together,” he turns to his pal, “we got to move.”
Mani, “Bye now,” she saunters off in the direction of the restaurant, the Mercedes
pulls out of the lot.
Back in the car, she pulls on her jeans, Ellen says, “Good job little honey, I got that
thing stuck under the front bumper.”
Katya, “Da, and it is working, let’s go.”

Eighty

Two and a half hours later, the Mercedes stops at a two story brick building in
northeast Atlanta. It’s maybe two thousand square feet per floor. Windows are
small and covered on the second, the ground floor has an ancient sign over the
front door that says Grain and Feed. The place looks vacant, old shelving and
grimy linoleum, empty boxes strewn about, dust and partially dismantled shelving.
The Mercedes drives around the rear, man gets out and unlocks a rusted metal gate,
the car heads down a service alley bordered by a high concrete block wall, closed
on the far end. A staircase goes up to the second floor.
Ellen parks down the block, “Gonna take a look, sit tight.”
She strolls down the empty street, a glance into the service alley, the two hauling
bags up the steps. She returns to the car.
“Don’t know if they keep drugs there, but the bags went upstairs.”
Katya, “We don’t care about the drugs. Wait, see where they go next.”
Where they go next is Buckhead, wealthy suburban Atlanta enclave. The Mercedes
takes a left, twelve foot iron rail gate splits open, the car continues down a wide
drive at the end of which is a mega manse.
Mani, “Geez, how many people live in that place? Must have a dozen bedrooms.”
Katya is diddling with Google Earth, “Giant pool, fountains, separate pool house in
back, tennis court.”
Ellen, “Man’s livin’ large.”
Katya, “Drive the neighborhood.”
 232

The house to the right is occupied, so is the one behind. The one to the left is for
sale and appears empty.
Katya, “If we need to come here again, we can approach from the unoccupied side.
Drive to Mandarin Oriental, we will get a room.”
They check in, bellman takes the suitcases, Ellen and Mani retain gun cases and
ammunition. To the suite, Ellen tips the bellman twenty, earns a nice smile and
thank you ma’am.
Mani’s touring, “Two king bedrooms, two full baths, two terraces, cool.”
Katya, “Taking shower, then find cocktail.”
While they finish dressing, casual elegance, heels, pants and silk blouses, Katya is
surfing the hotel restaurant offerings.
“Not much interesting for dinner, let me see,” she cranks up Google for restaurants
in Buckhead.
“The Capitol Grille, steak and seafood, upscale, only a mile away. It’s a small
chain in a dozen states. There are two in Houston, never noticed them.”
Ellen, “One’s in the Galleria, I’ve seen it, never went.”
They park at the bar while waiting on a table, the hostess said about an hour, Ellen
gives her a twenty, “We’ll be at the bar.”
They have one cocktail and mysteriously a table opens in twenty minutes. Ellen’s
gaydar picked up a special smile from the hostess. Her nametag reads Amanda.
“Thank you Amanda, never been here before, we are looking forward to it.”
Amanda, “Food is good here and as advertised on the menu, no surprises. Four
lovely women, girls’ night out?”
Ellen, “Always girls night out, we don’t out with the opposite sex.”
Amanda’s eyes twinkle, “You live here?”
“Just touristing, we live in Phoenix.”
“In town long?”
“Not sure, we’re just traveling here and there. We do real estate investing,
sometimes we come across something interesting just by accident. Besides
hostessing, what do you do to kill the time?”
“Go to college, only part time. I’m in no hurry to grow up.”
Ellen smiles, “Neither are we. We got lucky, inheritance for those two,” she nods
to the twins, “got them started in real estate. I came along, they taught me what
they’d learned,” she nods to Mani, “the baby of the family takes care of us at
home.”
“Wait, you all live together?”
“Yes, and we don’t have rules about who enjoys who.”
 233

Amada grins, “My style.”

“Give me your number.”
Amanda does, “Call me,” she returns to her duties.
Mani, “She’s hot, think we can find the time?”
“Who knows? But I’ll call her just to be polite. If we have time off, maybe she can
come around.”
The hour wait mysteriously becomes twenty minutes. Dinner is steak au poivre,
Chilean sea bass, filet mignon with roasted cipollini onions (the little ones that
look like fat buttons) and mushrooms. Also a large appetizer they order an as
entrée called Grand Plateau, jumbo lump crab, North Atlantic lobster, shrimp
cocktail, oysters on the half shell.
Ellen discusses wines with the sommelier, she has to do the pretense since she
attended the sommelier course at Le Notre. She goes with his suggestions,
Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio, and Ferrari-Carano Cabernet Sauvignon. The girls
don’t worry about white for fish and red for meat, the wines both sounded good
and, after tasting, Ellen confirms.
Katja, “Red ees good wine, we can haf at home?”
Ellen, “Don’t see why not, I’ll check with Martin’s,” she taps the name and vintage
into her phone.
The waiter inquires about dessert, the girls decline. Pleasantly full from a high
protein dinner, not stuffed. They have perhaps long days and tedium until they find
a way to the money.
Ellen whispers to Amada on the way out, nice blush and pretty smile.
Katja, “You are peeking up hostess girl maybe.”
“Maybe, work first, if there’s dead time, we’ll see.”
Back in the suite, they skip more booze and head off to bed. Despite it being travel
for profit, not leisure, a first tier hotel and a good dinner makes for warmed
women.
Mani takes Ellen by the hand, “Goodnight Katja, Katya, see you in the morning.”
In their bedroom, deconstruct, refresh, into bed, Mani is all over Ellen.
“Somebody’s steamy.”
Mani, “I got wet in the restaurant, Amanda’s sooo creamy, we have to try to get
into that smoothie.”
Ellen grins, “Slut. Lay back, I’ll help you release the steam before you explode.”
Mani moans her way to her first orgasm in minutes, “Oh wow, my brain pictured
the sultry Amanda face and long blond hair right between my legs. I fantasized
about her looking up at me while she licked, then I opened my eyes and you were
looking up at me while you licked. I nearly shorted out.”
 234

Ellen laughs, “My turn, get busy, even better, on our terrace. I can stand and watch
the lights while you get on your knees and make me lose my mind.”
Fifteen minutes later, mind gone, Mani kisses elegant Ellen legs while she catches
her breath. Bedtime, as they nod off, a lingering soft vibration right where a soft
vibe does the most good.

Eighty One

They decide to stick with the hotel for breakfast. Mani and Ellen split a spinach,
peppers and cheese omelet with a side of ham, the twins have traditional American,
eggs over, bacon, cheese grits, biscuit and black tea.
Katja, “Chiz greets are good, better at home when Ellen haf mascarpone wiz
habanero sauce.”
Mani giggles, “It’s a wonder you don’t set yourself on fire.”
Katja, “I am spicy girl, Katya a leetle, no so much as sister.”
Ellen, “How do you want to handle it today, Katya?”
“Surveillance on old building. Leave the Escalade, we will rent two cars, sedan and
maybe SUV. After breakfast, I will ask concierge. Change plates on the car, you
brought plates from someplace else?”
Ellen, “Always, we got Texas, New York, Arizona, I got a couple from California.
Our licenses say we’re from Arizona and California, I’ll use those.”
“Da, okay. Not much need for complicated disguise, hat, sunglasses, plain clothes,
big tops, ordinary sneakers.”
Mani, “Armed?”
“Da, yes, always when working.”
Breakfast wraps, Katya goes off to arrange cars. It doesn’t matter if the hotel
knows about the cars, the rooms are in travel names. They have a credit card on
file in Katya’s travel name. The rental cars will also hit the credit card, but that’s
fine, it’s an actual account, just for a shell corporation. The bill will get paid with a
transfer from the Cayman account.
“Abd al Razik owns the house, we have the right man. Ellen, go with Katja and
monitor the old feed store. Mani and I are going to check on Razik, if nothing
happens in a couple of hours, we will come to you.”
Ellen and Katja take the SUV, a Ford Explorer, Katya and Mani drive off in a
Nissan Maxima.
Katya drives to the mansion, empty house next door, another mega mansion, the
neighborhood is loaded with them. This one has no gate, just a fat circular drive,
she pulls up to the front door.
 235

Katja comes online, “Second Mercedes came in, deeferent color same routine,
then drove away.”
Katya, “Okay, maybe they show up here.”
Mani waits while Katya approaches the hedges separating the two homes. The iron
rail fence extends all the way around the al Razik place. Whatever is happening in
the house, outside it’s quiet. Twenty minutes passes, then she hears the gate
opening, an Escalade eases up the drive to the front door. Two men get out, she
hears the front door open and close.
“Two men, not the same two as yesterday.”
Katya, “Car is here now. We will hang around a bit longer then come to the feed
store. That is where the money is, not much point in watching the house.”
Circle the vacant house, Katya sees no particular advantage, even if they broke in.
The alarm is likely disabled, there’s nothing inside to steal and agents have to
know the code and deal with it every time they show the place. But, she figures, no
matter, then a hint of an idea occurs.
“We will go to feed store.”
Half an hour later, with a stop to pick up coffee for everyone, the four are in the
Explorer. Ellen has it far enough away not to be noticeable from the not a feed
store anymore, they can see when traffic comes to the alley, the only entrance, the
other end is walled off.
Ellen, “How many inside, any guess?”
“We see who leaves at the end of the day. It’s only noon. You must need a pee
break. Take the Nissan, find something light for lunch, chicken salad, crackers, like
that.”
Katja and Ellen go off to find a supermarket and a restroom.
Mani, “You said it, surveillance is mostly nothing.”
“Plus, nobody gave us a target, an address and photos. We had to find this
ourselves. Just glad Gerard was able to come up with names.”
“What about Miami?”
“First we find out what is inside the feed store. If we rip off this man, it will make
waves, Francisco Calderon is certain to find out. It will make him more cautious. If
we decide to go, it will be at least a year, let him settle down.”
Ellen and Katja return, they nibble chicken salad from plastic containers, sip Diet
Coke from plastic bottles. More nothing, just as they stuff empty plastic back in the
plastic bag, a cargo van fronts the gate, black man hops out, unlocks it, van drives
in.
“Mani, check it out, just close enough to see if bags are involved.”
Ellen, “A van this time, big one too.”
 236

Katya, “Ford Transit. I am wondering.”

“Wondering what?”
Mani hustles back, “They aren’t dropping off, bunch of boxes are being loaded.”
Katya, “Ellen, you have rifle?”
“Sure, in back.”
“Load it.”
She goes out, rear hatch opens, locks snap on the case, then the sound of a
magazine snapping into place.
“Just sit back there for now, close the hatch, wait, I can do it from here,” she clicks
the key fob and the hatch eases down.
Ellen, “We gonna rob the van?”
“Soon as they finish loading. Fold down all the seats. Ellen, I will turn car around.
When the van pulls out, someone will get out to lock the gate. Take out tires.
Katja, go to the Maxima, be ready to pull alongside the van. Mani, wait next to the
gate, just behind that hedge, see it?”
“Yes.”
“They cannot see you there. When tire busts, crack man on temple with butt of
gun, hard. Maybe he goes unconscious, but he will anyway be confused. I will be
there. Ellen, gun case has the other things?”
“Yep, duct tape, nylon ties, picture wire.”
“Then Katja will handle driver, we get them silenced and wired. Ellen you stay
with rifle until we have things under control. If someone comes down steps, deal
with them. We will take as many boxes as we can fit.”
Mani, “Why not just steal the van?”
“GPS.”
Mani thinks, “Oh, duh, he’s gonna have it tracked.”
“He may also have boxes tracked, get going,” Mani dashes to her spot behind the
bush.
The gate creaks open, a man stands to the side, the van backs out. Katya opens the
hatch, Ellen’s prone on the floor sighting.
The van is out of the alley, facing away from them, the man shuts the gate, puts the
lock on.
“Now, before he gets in.”
Soft pop, pop, pop, pssssstt, the van sinks down left rear, like it’s kneeling. He
can’t hear the rifle from this distance, flash suppressor also turns the shots into
whispers.
“What the fuck!”
The man goes around back, sees the flat, “Sheeyt,” Mani clocks him on the temple,
he staggers but doesn’t drop, she puts the gun to his head.
 237

“On your knees, live, fuck around, die.”

He’s hurting, hand to head, blood seeps. He’s in no condition to argue, he drops
slowly to his knees, Katya is there. She wraps his mouth with the tape, then a strip
across the eyes, pulls his hands behind his back and zips picture wire around his
wrists a half dozen times, then wraps it between his hands. He’s done.
Katja had the car next to the driver’s side before Mani smacked her guy. She’s out,
Glock pointed at the driver’s head. He reaches for something, she puts a round
through the driver’s window, glass shatters.
She has the Glock at his cheek, “Hands on wheel or I shoot you here, one second
only, one…”
Two hands snatch the wheel, “Fuck girl, you in for a heapa shit. You go no idea
who..”
“Abd al Razik. Not your problem, your problem is to live through this.”
Whoever is still upstairs can’t see the van unless they come outside, no one does.
Katya’s there with a second wrap job, Ellen and Mani are shuffling boxes as fast as
they can. Katya opens one, full of hundreds, she dumps the contents out in the
trunk of the Nissan. No tracker. While the three move boxes, she dumps a second,
nothing. She can’t check them all, have to go with the odds, they track the truck,
not the boxes.
Full Explorer, full trunk and backseat of the Nissan, there are still stacks of boxes
in the cargo van.
Katya finds the GPS for the van, unplugs it.
“I will drive this one and we will find a place to hide it. In fact, find a storage
place.”
While Ellen surfs nearby storage, they pull the driver out and leave him next to his
partner. She finds a Public Storage. Katya rents a big space, big enough for the
cargo van. Then they take the Explorer and Nissan to a second facility and unload
the boxes. Put the Explorer back together, change to the rental plates and return the
cars.

Eighty Two

In the suite, Katya, “This depends on them not tracking boxes individually.
Tracking just one is a waste, so I am guessing they were fine with tracking the van
only. But since we know nothing of al Razik, we cannot know how his mind
works, maybe he tracks only a box or two. We are going to need to watch the
storage places for anyone snooping around.”
Ellen, “How long?”
“He’s not going to wait. By now he knows he has a problem. We can use the
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Escalade, but we need another car since the money is in two spots.”
Mani, “Not really, they’re going to go to both places if there are trackers, just
watch the one with the van.”
Katya, “Good thought, we got maybe half the boxes, the odds of trackers being in
just boxes we took from the van is tiny. Okay. I want another car anyway. Katja
and Ellen watch the storage place, Mani and I are going to see if there is activity at
the house.”
The do a quick freshen, car is waiting downstairs. Ellen and Katja off, Katya has a
Toyota Corolla, she and Mani drive to al Razik’s mansion.
Katja, “Ees no one at storage looking around.”
“We are just getting to the house, must be six cars in the drive, two of them the
ones we saw yesterday. Good sign, if he knew where the money was, the cars
would be there, not here. Maybe I can see something around the side.”
“Mani, stay with the car, if anyone comes, tap the horn, start the engine.”
She creeps along the fence, now she can see his backyard. There are a dozen men
on the patio, it isn’t a pool party. One of them is huge, must go six five and three
hundred. He’s not happy.
“How did you two niggas let a couple of fucking women rip off my fucking
money?”
One of the men, looks like the driver, says, “Boss, more than two, armed, out of
nowhere. We have loaded the van there dozens of time, never a problem. That
street has no traffic. We were ambushed.”
“What kind of car?”
“Nissan, the big one, black. Girl alone in it. She pulled up, I didn’t know what was
happening, she shot the window, I reached for my piece, she had a Glock in my
face. ‘Nother girl comes along, I’m wrapped up and dragged next to Kelvin. They
leave us with tape over our mouth and eyes, fucking wire around our wrists and
ankles. Cut us just to move,” he shows his wrist to the big man.
“Uh huh, and how you plan to get my money bitch?”
“Uh, let us go look around, van got GPS, we can find it.”
The big man is sorely pissed, “Nigga, they cut that sucker off when they cut your
black asses off,” he pulls out a pistol, “here’s what happens to stupid don’t pay
attention niggas,” he pops driver, then passenger.
The crowd around him is quiet, “Don’t just stand around motherfuckers, dispose of
this shit, then FIND MY FUCKING MONEY.”
They start racing around, Katya’s seen enough, he has no clue where the money is.
“Katja, transfer boxes to Escalade, will they fit?”
“Nyet, we will need to rent van, can’t drive this one anyplace.”
 239

“We will bring a truck, don’t put boxes in the Escalade until we see how the truck
works.”
Mani and Katya do the simple thing, rent a U-Haul nine foot van, take it to the
storage site. It’s a bit over half full when they empty the cargo van, then on to the
second storage site. They load all but ten boxes in the U-Haul, the extras go in the
Escalade. Back to the hotel, return the Corolla, to the room.
Katya, “Pack up, we drive home.”
Mani, “Wonder how much money?”
Katja, “We count two boxes while wait. Each box wiz hundred ees two million.
One box had twenties, so maybe lots have less. There are forty seven boxes, eef
half are hundreds, that’s…something.”
Katya, “If twenty boxes have hundreds, it’s forty million, plus whatever is in the
rest. A million in twenties is about a hundred ten pounds, none of the boxes
weighed that much. A million in hundreds is twenty two pounds. The boxes felt
about the same, so a box of twenties is maybe four hundred thousand. If the twenty
seven left are twenties, that’s maybe ten or eleven million.”
Mani, “So, we have fifty million, maybe?”
“We will find out at home.”
They pack up, the suite will be charged to them for the night, but considering
they’re riding a substantial amount of cash home, it seems immaterial.
Ellen, “So much for Amanda, I’ll call her tomorrow, family emergency, blah,
blah.”
It’s already six, they have a seven hour drive. Coffee up, energy bars, Ellen drives
the U-Haul with Mani for company, the twins take the Escalade. They stop for gas
shortly after hitting I-10, home by one thirty.
The U-Haul and Escalade are in the courtyard, big solid metal gate shut tight and
locked. Our thieves have a drink then collapse into bed exhausted.

Eighty Three

Mani, “Fuck me, sixty eight million dollars!”

Ellen, “And for your virgin theft, you get forty percent, we take thirteen each.”
Mani, “But that was when I was going it alone, Ellen was with me all the time.”
Katya, “We want you to have a good first payday. If we do Miami, we have the
usual split.”
“Good God, I have like twenty five million? What do I do with twenty five million
dollars?”
Katya, “Twenty seven in fact. First, we have to wash it. It will be a year or more
before you have it all. If you show up as no money college girl then millions, you
 240

are asking for problem. Cash will wash through Katya Donut and Cayman shells
first. But we do not just send them millions. I have to create paper transactions,
buy and sell imaginary imports and exports, make invoices, transfer funds.”
Mani, “I don’t mind, I mean, I can buy anything I want now. Ellen gets me
whatever anyway. I trust you are not paying me any more for housekeeping.”
Katya, “No, but we will pay you as part of Sabelin Partners. I think we will make
you pretend employee for ten thousand a month. Start getting you some of your
money right away. When we have cleaned money, we can revisit arrangement.
You will have enough money of your own.”
Mani, “Ten thousand a month? My own money? I never dreamed.”
Ellen, “You did good, held your end of the job, even more than your end. We have
to take time with the cash though.”
Katja, “You still have to take care of house. We do not permit some other hired
person to come and clean.”
Mani, “That’s fine, the housekeeping is second nature now. I am dumping school
though. I have no idea what a degree will do for me. I can still learn languages, I
like it. But, eventually I have this pile of money, what do I do with it?”
Ellen, “We created a company with shares, each of us has a certain number of
shares depending on our contribution. Katya invests it in the stock and bond
markets, or we buy real estate. A fair amount is in tax free bonds. You can buy into
the partnership, but it’s up to you. You can hold out several million and invest the
rest in the partnership, or not invest any of it. It is your money, your decision.
Anyway, you have a year or eighteen months to decide.”
Mani, “It’s so much all at once.”
Katya, “Decide later. Ellen, get two or three safes, from different companies, put
one in your room, one in Mani’s room, the last in the gym, stagger the
installations.”
A full day, counting money, returning the van, boxes of cash in the workout room
until safes can be installed.
Katja, “We haf no time for making dinner, we will go to Irene Cuisine and haf crab
gratin, soft shell crab, feesh amandine, veal marsala.”
Mani, “Yummy, I’m starved.”
Tommy, “Les quatre perfections, welcome, your table is open, usual cocktails?
Katja, “Da, and usual dinner, you are remembering?”
“Of course dearest, be up in a minute. No appetizer, regular entrée, soft shell crab
is magnificent tonight.”
Katja, “Also maybe escargot.”
“Got it,” he scurries of, Irene’s is filling, it’s always busy.
 241

Unlike a few years ago, they take reservations, but they don’t hurry tables, so you
may have a wait. There’s a bar and waiting area, pace yourself or you’ll be drunk
as a rock star by the time you’re seated. The girls skip that, when Katja calls, they
save her table, they just show up and sit.
Ellen, “Mani, have you talked to Sarah?”
“Twice, text actually. She’s such a little flirt. I want her to come over, a
sleepover.”
Ellen, “I looked them up. The family has roots here, she’s got the typical high
school Facebook page, she’s not a psycho. Nothing on her page says lesbian.”
Mani, “No, she’s not out. I know that. I don’t know if it’s parents, or she just
doesn’t want a hassle at school, although it is a girls’ school.”
“Probably lesbians all over the place.”
Mani giggles, “Maybe, but most high school girls are all about boys.”
Cocktails delivered, they quietly toast ‘k uspekhu!’ (to success) regarding the
recent acquisition of nearly seventy million.
Shelly, their waiter, asks, “Celebrating?”
Katja, “Da, we haf made good beezness in Arizona, so we toast success.”
Shelly, “Congratulations, how is it pronounced?”
“Koosbe-eh-ku.”
“Russian, I wish I spoke something besides New Orleans, a smattering of French
just because of the restaurant, even though it’s supposed to be Italian. It’s really a
fusion. In New Orleans, it’s hard to escape French influence.”
Ellen, “Food here is perfect, whatever the influence. It’s our favorite dinner spot,
close runner up is Bon Ton, but we do lunch there primarily.”
Shelly, “That place just keeps hammering out the best traditional New Orleans
seafood. The building was built in 1840 something, the restaurant is over a hundred
years old, with one break until the Pierce family took it over in the fifties. It was
the first Cajun influenced cooking in New Orleans. Up until then, New Orleans
was Creole.”
Mani, “How many restaurants are a hundred years old?”
Shelly, “Not many, Antoine’s, Commanders Palace, Tujaque’s, are all older than
Bon Ton, a hundred forty years or more.”
Mani, “Geez.”
Shelly, “You entrees should be ready, back in sec.”
They share and swap, Tommy was right on, the soft shell is splendid, huge, fried to
a turn, crispy and juicy.
Ellen is dragging a hunk of bread through dark zesty marsala sauce, “God I could
live on this stuff.”
They finish off the Chianti, settle the tab and walk the few blocks home.
 242

Ellen, “Anyone for a nightcap? It’s nice in the courtyard.”

Outside with a drink, everyone’s got vodka except Ellen, she’s got a glass of Elijah
Craig on the rocks.
Ellen, “Guess I should appreciate a twenty one year old bourbon neat, but I like it
cold and a little watered down.”
Katya, “After a shot, we put bitters or olives in Russian Standard, regular cocktail
glass, lots of ice. Cocktail is to be enjoyed, not turned into religious experience.”

Eighty Four

Ellen schedules three installations over three days. What to do with so much cash?
It’s much more difficult these days to hide it in the Caymans. That’s why Katya
has shell corporations. More places to park cash in small increments. The girls are
on safer ground because they aren’t using the Caymans accounts to avoid taxes.
They pay taxes like anyone on business related income, but they can hardly report
stolen drug money.
Ellen, “Okay, that’s done, Katya will juggle the money, Mani, you and I are going
real estate shopping.”
She makes a series of appointments, while she’s doing that Mani texts Sarah.
‘hey sarah want to come over friday or saturday’
Couple of minutes later, ‘sure, where are u’
Mani texts the address, ‘you can spend the night if you want.’
‘cool, got a customer, talk soon.’
The rest of their day is spent wandering property, Mani’s job is to make notes on
her phone and take photos so they can discuss options with the twins. They’re back
in time for tea at four thirty.
Ellen, “Kind of a tossup. Three places need work, two have been recently
remodeled. I noted some FSBOs, might be better deals. I’m also looking for bank
foreclosures.”
Katya, “Take your time, we do not need to buy anything quickly. Oh, for now, pay
for everything in cash, groceries, dry cleaning, gas, everything. Mani, if you buy
anything, pay cash as long as it is less than ten thousand. If you want your own car,
then we will write a check. Everyone will make regular trips to banks to deposit a
few thousand. Our own names, Sabelin, Katya Donut, shell companies. Twenty
banks, two deposits a month to each. From there wire transfers to the brokerage
account.”
That settled, Mani clears up, Ellen says, “Tonight, stuffed artichoke to begin,
grilled flank, marchand de vin, roasted root vegetables. Leidenheimer’s French to
soak up sauce. Hot fudge sundae for dessert.”
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Katja, “Ellen always haf best dinner.”

Ellen grins, “Tomorrow I’m doing pork ribs and white beans, reminds me, got to
get those suckers in the marinade.”
Mani, “Show me. Uh, Sarah’s coming Saturday, she’s off at four,” she giggles,
“and sleeping over.”
Ellen, “You going to awaken her inner lesbian?’
Mani, “Her inner lesbian is wide awake, she’s just not out.”
“Don’t get her pregnant.”
“Unless you can get pregnant from a dildo, no problem.”
Katya, “They make some that carry sperm specimen, it goes into woman with hole
in dildo. Still need specimen.”
Mani, “No sweat then. We don’t have or want a donor.”
Ellen, “I must be missing hormones, got no desire to get pregnant.”
Mani, “Haven’t had any kid issues enter my head either.”
“Well, you’re young, maybe later. If you want, you want.”
“If I do, I’ll adopt, I’d only want a girl, pregnancy sounds painful and messy.”
They take cocktails in the courtyard, under a tent of mosquito netting, New Orleans
is tropical and insects are prodigious.
“Artichoke ees good Ellen, creamy, crunchy and garlic,” she slips a leaf through
her teeth, follows with a sip of vodka.
Mani, “I’ve never had this.”
Ellen, “Pluck a leaf, pull it off the artichoke, then do what Katja did, slide it
through your teeth, toss the leaf on the pile.”
“Ooohh, that is good, wow.”
A second round of drinks, then inside where Ellen has the table laid, slices of flank
steak covered in dark marchand de vin, a gravy boat with extra sauce. Platter of
roasted vegetables, spiced and a dash of dark soy and a squirt of Okonomi,
sprinkled with grated Parmesan. Buttered French bread accompanies.
Mani, “If I die now, I die happy.”
“Better to have a go at Sarah first, then you can die.”
“I can hardly wait to get at lean runner legs, what a racehorse she is, and smooth as
butter.”
Katja, “You are most sexy girl, always ready for fun.”
Mani smiles, “Ellen’s fault, she’s trained me, then you two, it’s like living in a
candy store.”
Katja, “Ellen, what ees sweet taste een vegetables?”
“Okonomi sauce, a fruit based hint of sweet. I found it fishing around the web for
ideas, it’s very popular in Japan. You can add it to almost anything, it will be great
for chicken finger dip, or substituted for cherry preserves on turkey or chicken
 244

sandwiches, even fried fish.”

Dinner winds down, Mani deals with dishes, fires up the CMA Dishmachine under
counter model. The wash cycle is two minutes and a high temp rinse. It’s for
dishes, platters, utensils. Ellen has a separate glass washer as well. They run
quietly and quickly, and use very little water, things come out sparkly clean and
sanitized.
Katja clicks the TV on, then the laptop. An HDMI cable connection plays Netflix
on the TV. Hot fudge on vanilla bean ice cream sprinkled with almond slivers, they
watch an episode of Hit & Miss, a one season wonder about a transsexual contract
killer.
Katja, “She haf complicate life. Finds out her ex girlfriend ees dying but also haf a
son. Better we do not haf complication.”
Ellen laughs, “Right you are, too much hide and seek, don’t tell this one I’m trans,
everyone has to keep secrets. But it’s TV, that’s the kind of stuff they use to punch
up dramatic action in between the physical action.”
Mani, “Transgender people have really messy lives. Except I saw a program on 20-
20 about a trans girl named, um…Jazz. Her parents give her unconditional support,
although dad had a rough patch at first. Anyway, the girl is lively and adorable.
She’s gotten to be quite the spokesperson and I think she’s like twelve or
something.”
Katya, “Like Lady Mary, did she complete transition?”
Ellen, “Twelve is too young, oh, duh, you mean Mary. I don’t know, we need to
have breakfast at EnVie and find out.”
“Tomorrow then.”
Katya, “Sisters are tired, time for sleep.”
Mani, “Me too, we have more places to look at tomorrow Ellen?”
“After breakfast we’ll drive around looking for FSBOs. We can check Craigslist
too.”

Eighty Five

Michael, “Les quatre perfections, welcome, usual?”

Katja, “Da, Michael. Ees Lady Mary complete operation?”
“Yes, last week, she’s still recovering. Her pals were in here yesterday. It’s as well
as can be expected. Maybe six weeks they said. Next time I see them, I’ll say you
asked after her.”
“Spasibo.”
 245

Over coffee Katja relates what Michael told her, Ellen says, “Glad to hear it.”
Katya, “Mary is a tough girl. She had crappy childhood though, trans was not as
understood when she was child.”
Breakfast arrives, Mani says, “We saw various commercial property for sale, do
you want us to check it out?”
Katya, “Anything Ellen finds interesting. Small commercial, not something
complicated. Retail maybe, small shops like Katya Donut. We need more
experience to take on large projects.”
Ellen, “It’s an education, we don’t really need to do it for the money. But Katja’s
right, I like having projects, but not sixty hour a week ones.”
They wrap up, Ellen and Mani are off on another tour of town, searching in the still
active Garden District. All these years after Katrina and Mid-City remains only
partially rebuilt. Orleans parish has rebounded somewhat, from half a million
before Katrina, to a low of a quarter million, now just under four hundred
thousand. But the city is sixty percent black and most aren’t middle class. That
translates into middling property values and slow growth. There is some advantage
to commercial, the city lives on tourists and it’s done a good job of creating a flow
of annual events to bring them in. Conventions like New Orleans, the play and
sassiness of the Quarter, excellent restaurants sprinkled around town.
The twins walk the Quarter, tourists throng Jackson Square, Bourbon Street is
quiet, too early, the masses will show up by seven or eight. It’s Friday, a big play
night.
Katja, “Mani is in up to elbows now, I think we do not haf problem wiz her.”
Katya, “She likes the murder business, takes risks, doesn’t wait always to be told.”
“We will call on Lady Mary, I haf number een phone.”
She dials, Renaldo answers, “Ees Katja, ees okay to visit Mary now?”
“Hey honey, let me check,” Katja hears, ‘Miss Mary, the twins want to visit, what
do you think?’ then, “come along, just a few minutes though. She’ll want you to
stay longer, but…”
“Ees no a problem, we say hi, a few minutes only,” she clicks off.
Raymond answers the door, “Hey babies, mmm, mmm, mmm, if I wasn’t so queer,
I’d eat you two up.”
Katja, “Why ees gay person boyfriend of woman who was man?”
Raymond, “She had the man parts, now those are gone, but we’re all used to one
another, and we’re business partners.”
Mary, “I hear you, quit talking nasty and bring my dears to me.”
“Katja! Katya! I am such a mess, you must swear to keep my secret.”
Katja, “Ees no one we are telling Mary. You look well for such a big deal
operating.”
 246

Mary, “It was horrid. A week of painful everything, even where there is nothing.
Like someone beat me all over, like my father used to do. Got something from his
asshole self, learned to take punishment. Where is gorgeous Ellen? I should hate
her but she’s too sweet.”
Katya, “She and Mani are looking for property.”
“Mani?”
“We hire Mani to take care of house, she is Thai.”
Mary, “Lot of Thai trannys.”
Katja, “Not Mani, she ees lazebian like us also. We haf two girls to play now.”
Mary looks at Renaldo and Raymond, “I got two girls to play with too baby.”
Raymond, “She was wondering how things match up now that you are a complete
woman.”
Mary, “Sucking cock is sucking cock, whether it’s in a man’s mouth or a woman’s.
And my surgery saved dorsal nerves, which is what stimulates the clitoris and
penis. So yes, I should be able to get off. Orgasms for women are more
complicated, so much to do with hormones, partner, atmosphere. But physically,
I’ll have sensation.”
Katya, “We are happy for you. Are you adjusting in your head?”
Mary, “I been good with me for a while, lotta therapy after dealing with my father.
The trans community helped a lot, and the double R’s have been perfect
companions. I been lucky overall.”
Katja, “We will go now, Mary. You haf to make recovery so we can come to big
show.”
Mary frowns, “Not so sure about the big show. The landlord is selling, whoever he
sells to might not want a drag show in the place. He’s talking to someone who does
condos, remodel and sell.”
Katya, “Who is landlord?”
Renaldo, “Macy, Terry Macy. He’s okay, his aging wife is a spoiled brat who
thinks she’s a fairy princess, she wants to move to Florida permanently. Sit on the
beach and show off her enormous fake tits.”
Mary, “I got fake tits.”
Raymond, “Yes, and we talked you down from huge to merely appropriately
ample.”
Mary smiles at the twins, “They save me from me all the time.”
“Who owns bar?”
Renaldo, “The three of us. Raymond and I tend bar, Mary does what Mary does.
We got costumes, other performers to pay, the band. We do fair business, but it
doesn’t make any of us rich.”
“Why not move business?”
 247

Raymond, “We have everything set up, our people know where things are, it’s a
nice place, not a Bourbon Street strip club. Lease is affordable. People know where
we are, come from out of town all the time. We have to relocate, we have a
problem. We could do it, if we can line up a lease that doesn’t break the bank.”
Katya, “We will buy building, you can haf show.”
Mary, “What? You got money for it? I think he’s looking at two million. There’s
the club, big bar, takes up the whole bottom floor. Office space upstairs, lawyers
and an accountant, storage space. The music runs at night, the bar is open at noon,
but no music so it doesn’t matter to the tenants. They even come to the show
sometimes.”
Katya, “Good, then the whole place is rented.”
Mary starts to cry, “Don’t be jivin’ girls, you really gonna do this?”
Katya, “Where do I find Macy?”
After goodbyes and a teary “God bless’ from Mary, the twins leave. Katya calls the
number.
“This Terrance Macy?”
“Yeah, Terry, I’m not too formal.”
“My name is Katya. I am friend of Lady Mary.”
“Yeah, great gal, I wish I could help her, I gotta sell the building she’s in sad to
say.”
“You have an offer?”
“Developer’s talking two point two. It’s a fair price, lotta space, he can crank out
condos, maybe six. He hasn’t put down any money.”
“Are you available to talk? I may want to buy.”
“Yeah, sure, now?”
“Where are you?”
“Actually, I’m at the club. Needed electrical work, building’s old, you know how it
is.”
“We will be there in maybe fifteen.”
The place is nearer the Rampart Street side, two blocks into the Quarter, towards
Canal Street, the more tourist oriented section.
Macy, “Twins! I’ll be damned. Good thing you don’t dress alike, nobody could tell
you apart. Come in, we can sit in the club.”
The long and short of the discussion is that Katya will look over the current leases,
Ellen will check on clear title to the property. If the numbers aren’t too bad, the
twins can outbid a developer simply enough.
Katya, “We will meet Monday. Do you have any offer in writing from the
developer?”
“Nope, just a general discussion. I had the property appraised, I used the appraisal
 248

for the asking price.”

Katya, “Who is he?”
“From out of town, Dallas. Name’s Sidney Roth. Says he’s done conversions all
around Dallas, thinks the Quarter has potential for quick turnover.”
“He has a company name?”
“Roth Development.”
“We will do second appraisal, also building inspector.”
“Give you the appraisal I got, save you some money.”
“We will do our own, I have partners to reassure. Maybe you do better than your
appraisal.”
Katya has no intention of doing better. She’s going to have the place covered
ground to roof, front to back and everything in between. From what she saw, it
needs work. The developer would gut it, but then have to install new plumbing,
rewire electrical and build out from scratch. There is no way he’s going to pay
appraised value for a building where he gets only walls and floors after the expense
of gutting it.

Eighty Six

Ellen, “We buyin’ a club?”

Mani, “That’s kind of cool.”
Katya, “The actual bar and club is owned by Mary and her friends, we would be
landlords. First, Ellen will get appraisal, then hire inspector to go over entire
building, structure, plumbing, electrical. Also verify title with the city. Mani, Ellen
and I will follow appraiser and inspector, take notes and pictures.”
Mani, “What if the current owner doesn’t want to sell?”
Katya cocks her head.
Mani, “Oh,” she giggles, “can I be the one to change his mind?”
Katja, “Not like that, he ees to sell, wife wants out of New Orleans, go to beach,
get skin cancer on beeg teets.”
Ellen laughs, “He tell you that?”
“Nyet, Renaldo.”
Ellen, “We saw more of the same on our tour, there’s an empty place on Magazine
that was originally a house, it closed as what looks like a candle and knick knack
shop. It needs everything, probably get it for next to nothing.”
Katya, “Recent listing?”
“No, been on the market for a while, the real estate sign’s beat up.”
 249

“Let’s do homework on this project, Magazine Street shop doesn’t sound like it’s
going anyplace soon.”
Ellen, “After you meet Monday, we’ll get busy. Good thing I made the beans and
ribs already or we’d be having cold cuts.”
Katja, “Time for vodka cocktail, sisters are for showering first.”
The twins go upstairs, Mani and Ellen follow suit, then Mani’s downstairs making
drinks. She puts them on a tray, brings Ellen her bourbon, takes the tray to the
twins room. The shower’s running, she goes in the bathroom, Katya’s on her
knees, Katja against the shower wall just cresting to climax. Mani smiles, Katja’s
watching her enjoy the show, then a finishing shudder. Katya turns the water off.
Mani hands Katja a big towel, she starts to dry Katya, “You two are the sexiest
things on the planet.”
She manages to sneak in a few kiss to tight tush and tighter legs, finishes off with a
soft kiss on the money spot.
Katya, “You will finish what you start tonight. Tomorrow Sarah, you will be
occupied.”
Mani grins, “Happy problem.”
They sip cocktails while drying hair, then slip on silk t-shirts and go downstairs.
Dinnertime, Mani, “God I love this, fall off the bone pork ribs, spicy sweet beans
and cornbread.”
After dinner, they have wine in the courtyard. It’s getting on to summer, but the
temperature drops just enough to be comfortable. Two stand alone fans create a
gentle breeze.
Girls relax until nine thirty, then lust takes over, Mani takes the glasses in, Ellen
and Katja roll the fans back to their spot in the workout room. They make their
way to two bedrooms, Ellen and Katja, Mani and Katya.
After an hour of luscious orally induced orgasms, it’s silent, girls curled up with
tonight’s intimate partner.
The bedrooms are near blacked out at night, but the sunshine creeps in just at the
edges of the dark curtain. Katya sits up and stretches, to the bathroom to take care
of a pressing bladder. She showers, Mani comes in and they play hide the soap,
then rinse dry and downstairs.
Ellen has coffee and tea, “Have as lovely an evening as I did?
Mani, “It was unreal. I couldn’t think, I just felt, usually I’m in a dream of
lascivious lust.”
Katya, “There is a state called anoesis, pure sensation without cognitive content.”
“Well I sure was there, and I slept dream free, like I was dead.”
Katya, “And it has not happened before?”
 250

“Well, when we orgasm, thought leaves, but this was constant, almost the whole
time Katja and I made love.”
Big biscuits, eggs over easy with buttery grits and crispy bacon.
“We’ll have a light cold cuts lunch, your new friend, she have eating preferences? I
gotta think up dinner. Or we could go out.”
Mani, “Can we eat at home? I’d rather show you off,” she laughs, “I mean, your
cooking.”
Just then, Mani’s phone dings, “Hey Sarah, you at work yet?”
“Not until nine thirty, we do some rearranging maybe, shop opens at ten, I’m off at
four, we still on?”
“Of course. By the way, we’re having dinner at home, you have any food allergies,
preferences, are you vegetarian or anything?”
“Nope, we eat most New Orleans things, I’m not crazy about crawfish. Tastes
good, but it’s troublesome to peel, messy and fingers stink of fish.”
Mani, “We don’t do those, only boiled shrimp, but we peel them in advance for
shrimp cocktail. Ellen’s magic with the grill, how’s grilled fish, or steak?”
“Cool, either one, thanks for asking, I’m a pretty generic eater.”
“You coming straight from work?”
No, I want to go home and change, at the end of the day I smell like boutique.”
“Okay, suppose you call and I’ll drive over and pick you up.”
“Great, probably five or five thirty, you still want me to stay?”
“Absolutely, and tomorrow’s Sunday, we usually go to Café EnVie, you know it?”
“Um, oh yeah, I went there once for coffee. Got to go, still getting dressed.”
They click off.
“All set, anything you want to make is good.”
Ellen, “Then we will have trout amandine with Creole Mèuniere sauce, Brabant
potatoes, creamed spinach and a devil’s food cake with buttercream frosting. And I
heard shrimp cocktail, which made me want one, I’ll do that too.”
Mani, “Perfect.”
After breakfast and post cleanup, the girls lounge and digest. Katya is always
occupied with Katya Donut numbers, the rental property in Houston and reviewing
the investments. Katja, Ellen and Mani slip between Japanese and Russian for an
hour.
Katja, “I am for working out on machine, maybe heavy bag until lunch.
Ellen, “I’m in.”
The four wind up in the slave quarter converted to gym. Between stationary bikes,
treadmill, rowing machine and heavy bag, there are four sweaty lesbians sitting on
the mats rehydrating by eleven thirty.
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Katya, “Now for shower and lunch, maybe nap later.”

Half hour later they’re having a selection of cold roast beef, pepper crusted turkey
and honey ham, a snappy white cheddar, and crispy bread and butter pickles
marinated in habanero sauce. Salt and pepper chips accompany.
Mani, “Just right, high protein, not stuffed with carbs. Boar’s Head has the best
deli meats,” she spears another slice of roast beef.
Ellen, “I got to round up trout, shrimp and French bread, take a ride Mani?”
“Sure.”
Hour and a half for shopping, Mani puts things away, girls go off to bedrooms to
laze for a couple hours. They gather downstairs for tea at four thirty.
Mani, “Glad I napped, that session this morning was hard good, still hard.”
Katja, “Da, when we do together, everyone drives the others.”
Ellen, “I got the cake baked and cooled, now for frosting. Boil shrimp, the rest of
dinner I make pretty much at the same time. Mani will do Brabant potatoes and
creamed spinach, but the Muniere has to wait. We have a superb Graves to
accompany the fish, two bottles chilling. I found Chateau Villa Bel-Air Blanc, it is
splendido. We also have Gosset Champagne as a starter.”
Katja, “I am anticipating, and to meet Mani’s friend.”

Eighty Seven

“Sarah, you know Ellen, these are the twins, Katya and Katja.”
Sarah, “Good gosh, identical doesn’t cover it, guess you hear that a lot, so nice to
meet you.”
Katya, “Welcome to our home.”
Katja, “We haf no formals here, you can be relax and enjoy. Eef you haf question
or want something, ask only.”
Sarah, “Thank you, Mani, the house is gorgeous, and so sleek, not full of stuffy
antiques.”
Mani, “Not their style. Let’s take your overnight upstairs.”
Mani takes the small valise, Sarah follows up the staircase, then up the second
staircase to Mani’s room. They return in ten minutes.
Sarah, “Your home is exquisite, I hate Mani, she has such a wonderful bedroom,
rainfall shower, a closet she can walk around in. I’m going to sue my parents for
child abuse.”
Mani, “I met her parents, very nice, and Sarah’s room is built for a spoiled brat.
Her closet is stuffed.”
“Mom has the boutique, she gets things wholesale, it is time for a bit of
housekeeping. I have things I need to haul to Goodwill.”
Ellen, “And dad is a surgeon, I understand”
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Sarah, “Yes, and he’s almost never home. He does brain and spinal cord, and puts
in time in the emergency room. He says it keeps his trauma skills intact, but I think
it’s an excuse. He loves doing surgery.”
Katja, “He ees brain expert?”
“Not exactly. He says he is an expert at the plumbing, the parts. The various
mental functions are more for the neurologist. Like one guy does the hardware, the
other the software.”
Katja, “Ah, ees good example, I am understanding.”
Ellen, “Time for cocktails, your folks have rules about drinking?”
Sarah, “I have wine, my father’s all into wine, he spends a fortune at Martin’s.”
“We have champagne to start, then white with dinner. Mani, please open the
Gosset.”
First round in the courtyard, Sarah enthuses, “This is neat. Mosquito netting, fans,
comfortable chairs.”
Mani, “Tell us about running, how did you start?”
“I was always on the go, dance class, which was fine, but I like something I can do
outside. I did little kid track, ran in local races, 5 and 10K things, a half marathon. I
shifted more to intermediate, five thousand meters is my max race.”
Mani, “What is a good time?”
“For juniors, the world record is a shade over fifteen minutes, five minute miles
give or take. The best female adults run fourteen and a half to fourteen ten, the
record.”
“So the top juniors are close on the heels of top adults.”
Sarah, “Yes, but a minute difference over five thousand meters is a lifetime. My
best time is sixteen thirty, like a snail.”
Katja, “You are run for fun, not to be anyway world champion.”
“Yes, I win my share at my pace, local and state races. I don’t have time to travel
all over, and I’m not absorbed with it. It keeps me in shape, I may run in college,
who knows? I have to get out of high school first.”
“You have a college in mind?”
“Dad went to Tulane and Tulane medical. I’m not interested in the endless slog of
med school, I prefer rhetoric and writing. I’ve done a dozen or more short stories,
like to write a novel, but I can’t jell on a premise. Still thinking it over.”
Katja, “What ees rhetoric?”
“Effective or persuasive speaking and writing, especially the use of figures of
speech and other compositional techniques. There’s also deeper study of logic and
logical argument. It’s quite complex. I don’t know if I want to dive that deep.”
Ellen, “You’ll find your sweet spot, honey. Let’s have an appetizer.”
Mani and Ellen deliver shrimp cocktails with lump crabmeat on shredded lettuce,
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tangy seafood sauce, slice of lemon on the side to squish over the concoction.
Freshen champagne.
Sarah, “Yum, is anything better than shrimp and crabmeat? Nice bite to the sauce,
what is it?”
Ellen, “Habanero powder, a miniscule sprinkle. I use another occasionally, the
hottest pepper on the planet, Trinidad Moruga. It’s like eating molten steel.”
Sarah, “Sounds like my dad, he’s a hot sauce freak.”
“I get it in powdered form, pure ground dried pepper. Add it carefully, once it’s on
the food, it can’t be undone. I usually sprinkle a bit on the tines of a fork, that’s
how little is necessary to flame up the dish.”
Finish appetizers, they move inside to prepare dinner.
Ellen, “Mani is in charge of potatoes and spinach, sorry to take her from her guest,
but it’s a two person job to get stuff to come out together.”
Sarah, “I’m fine right here, I can keep an eye on her, both eyes even.”
Twenty minutes and platters are on the table, fried trout filets crusty with almonds,
tangy Muniere sauce to drizzle over the top.
Sarah, “Do you eat like this all the time? It’s all wonderful.”
Mani, “Ellen went to cooking school, and she already had cooking skills. Her
grandmother, who lived in New Orleans a long time, taught her. She shows me
things, I’m designated apprentice.”
Ellen, “Y’all are welcome to hang here and catch whatever program we watch. We
aren’t insulted if you want to go upstairs instead. Later, we have devil’s food cake
if you’re interested.”
Sarah, “It looks scrumptious, count me in whenever you’re ready.”
Katja is flipping through movie options, she finds Let Me In with Chloe Moretz.
“Here ees one, she plays strange girl who helps young boy from boolee. Ellen, we
will haf Cognac now.”
They watch Chloe meet the boy, at the point it’s evident she’s a kind of vampire,
they break for cake.
Sarah, “How can you not love cake, this is light as air, and fluffy butter cream
frosting.”
Ellen, “Thank you. The twins sprung for the best in kitchen appliances. Oven
temperature controls are like quantum clocks. Gas range with a big griddle and an
exhaust vent that’s like a jet engine, sound insulated so you can hear yourself
think. Ingredients are first in importance, equipment is a close second.”
They settle back while Chloe makes mincemeat out of the baddies, Katja clicks off
when credits roll.
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Katya, “Sisters are for bed now. We will go to EnVie for maybe nine tomorrow. If
you are up, come along, if not, we will be back at ten.”
Mani, “Let’s go to my room, we can find another show to watch…or something.”
Sarah, “Thank you for a wonderful dinner, and the wine was equally cool. Dad
would want to know what it is.”
Ellen, “Mani will text the name to you.”
Girls scurry upstairs, Ellen and Katja wrap up the plates and glasses, add to the
dishwashers and go upstairs. Katya is already snuggled under covers.

Eighty Eight

Sunday’s right on time, Ellen’s up with Katja drinking coffee and tea, Katya comes
down twenty minutes later, Ellen pours tea.
Katya, “Slept like dead girl. Workout, vodka, wine, Cognac.”
Ellen, “No hangover I hope.”
“Nyet, sisters do not have hangover, we do not drink cocktail with sugary mix, eat
good dinner, drink big glass of water before bed and when we get up.”
Ellen, “That’s the thing. Do we do Envie, it’s only eight.”
Katya, “Read Sunday papers online, New York Times, Washington Post, drink tea.
We will go later.”
They enjoy the morning quiet, click around various websites. They keep up with
national news, it isn’t anything they’re passionate about. Politics means nothing to
them, they use it as a topic of curiosity.
Katja, “Why ees reech person care about screwing around poor people?”
Katya, “If you say tax around a rich person, he gets heart attack. Everything is
about money and house.”
Katja, “We haf lots of money and beeg house. We do not buy politician to keep tax
low.”
Katya, “I do not mind tax in America. Rich should pay more tax. They are soft.
They do not realize poor will only take so much pushing around, then revolution.”
Ellen, “You think America will have a revolution?”
“Not until they pull out rug from lower middle class and disappear middle class.
When people have nothing, they have nothing to lose. Rich in America do not
understand that.”
Katja, “American ees too fat for revolution, cannot anyway run for two blocks
wizout attacking heart.”
Ellen, “And people who the politicians hurt the most are waving flags and voting
Republican.”
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Katya, “Republican pushes their morality buttons, Jesus, abortion, too big
government, balanced budget which can never in any case be balanced. Get
working class voters emotional and they do not think. Flag waving is for idiots.”
The phone rings, Katya answers, Penny asks, “Too early?”
“Nyet, having tea.”
“We have a conflict to resolve.”
“Rush?”
“Not particularly, just calling to let you know to check the accounts, details are
there.”
Katya clicks off. Penny stares at her dead phone and smiles, “Vika never changes,
a constant reliability in my life.”
Katya, “We have a project.”
Ellen, “Conflicts are best resolved quickly, or they only become bigger conflicts,
like a virus that multiplies.”
Katya, “Let’s have breakfast, I will check details later.”
As they are dressing, Mani comes along to Ellen’s room, “We’re up, we stayed up
a while, and, um…..”
Ellen, “Don’t kiss and tell honey, just get ready. We’ll go to EnVie and snag a
table, come along when you’re ready.”
Michael, “Les trois perfections, where is the Thai perfection?”
Ellen, “Be along in a bit, she had a friend over, they got up after us.”
“Then I will bring coffee and tea, shall I wait on breakfast?”
“A little, if they don’t show in fifteen, bring our usual, they can order later.”
Gerard walks in, “Girls, how lovely, how is everyone this Sunday morning? Mani
is elsewhere?”
Katja, “Sit Gerard. Mani haf friend over, they are coming.”
Gerard parks, Michael appears with his morning eye opener, almond liquor au lait,
which is as advertised, shot of almond liquor in café aut lait, chicory coffee with
steamed milk.
He sips, “Ah, coffee artists. What have girls been up to, solving any more
mysteries?”
Katja, “Nyet Gerard. We saw Lady Mary, she ees make recovering. We may also
buy building so she can keep club.”
“I heard he was selling, what’s his name? Terry something.”
“Terry Macy. Wife pressing to move to Florida, wants the cash to shore up her
lifestyle.”
Gerard, “Yes, yes, Macy. What do I know of Terry Macy?”
Mani and Sarah come in holding hands, doesn’t take an expert to read the body
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language, it says intimates.

Mani, “Gerard, this is my friend Sarah McClellan.”
Gerard stands, offers his hand, “Pleased to meet you, dear girl. There is a surgeon
in town, Dean McClellan.”
“My dad.”
Gerard, “Our city is smaller that it appears, he has a splendid reputation, frequently
at the Charity trauma center I’m told.”
“He likes to keep his hand in something besides brains.”
Gerard, “I suspect generosity has something to do with it.”
Michael, “Good Lord, les cinq perfections. You’ll be in double digits soon, Katya.”
“This is Sarah.”
“Bonjour Sarah, there is the menu, I know what to bring everyone else, look it over
and let me know your pleasure.”
“I see it, Spinach and Feta Cheese Wrap.”
“Bon, something to drink?”
“I’ll have a café au lait now, please.”
“On the way.”
Gerard, “How did you meet Sarah, Mani?”
“Her mom owns a boutique on Royal. Ellen and I were shopping, Sarah works
there on Saturdays. Lucky we stopped by, we were headed home.”
Gerard, “Fate then.”
Sarah, “Must be.”
Katja, “What haf you been doing Gerard, no more déjà senti friend?”
“No thank goodness, that was scary, and really scary for him.”
Sarah, “What is déjà senti.”
Gerard, “The phenomenon of having ‘already felt’ something, when a word or self
talk touches off the sensation. Katya figured out that an acquaintance of mine who
thought he was seeing the future was actually reliving the recent past. It was due to
hallucinogens he was experimenting with. He thought he was going mad.”
Sarah, “Weird, I never got caught up in drugs. Some girls I know do marijuana. I
can’t bring myself to try.”
Ellen, “Then don’t. You likely get the runner’s high anyway.”
“I do! I usually feel happy buzzed at the end.”
Sarah, “Try some of the wrap Mani, it’s really good.”
They wind up mixing tastes, farmer’s omelet, shepherd’s omelet, steak and eggs
plate, then the food is gone.
Gerard, “Good to see young ladies with healthy appetites.”
They settle the tab and part company with Gerard, walk to the house, Sarah is
glued to Mani. Whispering as they walk home, zip up the stairs to Mani’s room.
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Ellen, “Don’t have to guess what that’s about.”

Eighty Nine

Katya reads the collection of e-mails that piece together the job, who, where, and
any special requests. The only special request they accept is time to completion. In
a week, between date X and date Y, frequently the person buying the contract
wants to make sure they’re alibied, preferably out of town. Penny doesn’t
guarantee completion in less than a week, only best efforts. They don’t take special
requests for method. The target will get a kill shot, usually at close range. They
don’t arrange drug overdoses, use knives or garrotes, slip and fall or drown people.
No displays of corpses in a certain place or position. It isn’t entertainment.
Ellen, “What’s the deal?”
Katya, “We will talk after girl has gone home.”
They had a full mid-morning breakfast, so Ellen has only cheese and cold cuts for
lunch. Mani and Sarah reappear.
In between bites Mani says, “I’ll drive Sarah home after lunch. She has a run
scheduled and school stuff for tomorrow.”
They collect her bag, Sarah, “Thank you all, I had a great time,” she glances at
Mani, slight blush on her cheeks.
Katya, “You are welcome anytime.”
Ellen, “Whatever you and Mani work out, glad to see you get along together so
well. Hope to see you real soon honey.”
Mani, “Already scheduled next weekend.”
They leave, Katja says, “Ees nice girl, haf good manner. She ees maybe good
friend for Mani.”
Ellen, “She’s sixteen, Mani’s barely eighteen, not so far apart. Actually, Mani is a
little younger than her years, stuck in Jackson with the domineering aunt. Sarah
isn’t an adult, but she’s not a childish sixteen either. Her parents don’t seem to
hover, they didn’t grill Mani when she picked her up.”
Katya, “We have work, target is in Malibu. No idea how someone so far away got
to Penny, it isn’t a drug dealer thing. Standard job, one hundred thousand.”|
Ellen, “Who’s the guy?”
“The guy is a woman, the client is a guy. Apparently husband is getting tired of her
antics.”
Ellen, “Why not just a divorce?”
“Cost him a fortune, no prenup, she never worked, he’s worth several million.
They have been separated for two years. She is crazy woman, sixth lawyer, first
five quit working with her. She enjoys the drama, endless demands, despite twenty
thousand a month alimony, a car and second home in Malibu.
 258

Ellen, “Sheesh, she just greedy?”

Katya, “Client told Penny she has something called borderline personality disorder.
I looked it up. It is closest thing to psychotic. They enjoy turmoil, argument,
constant fights with family, can’t keep any friends. Promiscuous behavior,
everything is always someone else’s fault, accept no personal responsibility. She
has lesbian affairs along with straight ones, calls husband homosexual. Maybe, but
he told Penny he’s never been with a man for sex.”
Ellen, “So she does what lots of people do, accuse other people of stuff they don’t
like about themselves.”
“Da, yes. Anyway, she is in Malibu now. We will fly out tomorrow and resolve
conflict. I need to be in Houston for a few days after.”
Ellen, “Tell you what. I’ll book the plane, first to Houston, you two do what you
need to do, Mani and I will fly on to Malibu. Then we come back to Houston. If
you need a couple more days, we can go to the range, be good to practice anyway.”
“Make sure Mani takes the shot.”
“Will do.”
Mani returns, “Wow, she’s creamy dreamy, that was fun!”
Ellen, “Adorable thing, lanky lean.”
“Her legs are runner hard, just right calf, curve of muscle in her quads. Tummy flat
as sheet metal, I could bounce a quarter off it. After she got a look at me, she’s
going to Brazilian this week. She keeps it shaved, but not bare. Is that too much
information?”
Katja, “We are not for telling anyone, ees only us. We will not embarrass young
girl.”
Ellen, “First time?”
Mani, “Yeah, she did the kissing thing with a girl at fourteen. A sleepover. They
touched each other a bit, then did mutual masturbation. The girl moved before they
could get up the courage to take it further.”
Ellen, “Just as well she got someone with a bit of experience.”
Mani, “Like I did with you, my teacher.”
Ellen, “You were easy, ready to rock.”
Mani, “I guess so, everybody wants to make love to Ellen.”
“Aww, you are the sweetest thing. We fly out tomorrow. Casual clothes, work
clothes. One target.”
Mani smiles, “Where?”
“After we stop in Houston and drop the twins, you and I go to Malibu California.
You’re gonna to kill a pain in the ass woman.”
“Awesome, when do we leave?”
“Haven’t called Blue Sky yet, probably nine, we pick up a couple hours in time
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zones. I’d like to get the work done tomorrow or latest Tuesday. Then we come
back to Houston and go to the range for a day or so.”
Mani, “I’m having a good week, Sarah, kill, range, back to Sarah. It’s so good to
be me. I’m going to pack,” she races up the stairs.
Katya, “Ellen, prepare weapons, best to take a rifle, just in case getting close is a
problem. I will deal with Blue Sky and book a room someplace in Malibu.”
“Something simple, we aren’t gonna hang out.”
They gather for tea at half past four, “We leave at nine thirty, Houston ten thirty,
three and one half to LAX, arrive noon Pacific. Car will be waiting, bring fake
license plate, if it has GPS disable it, but most rentals don’t have GPS. I booked a
queen room ocean view at the Malibu Beach Inn. Full restaurant, don’t need to
drive all over. Driving is a pain in Los Angeles.”
Ellen, “Thank you for that. I have all the equipment, got her address. She’s there I
hope.”
“Da, Penny is keeping me updated. Husband calls, she goes for some kind of SPA
treatment Monday, then for yoga. Tuesday, she plays tennis at local club. I have
the address of club and yoga studio. She will be out of SPA before you get there.”
Ellen, “Good enough. By Wednesday, hubby’s problems will be over.”

Ninety

Katja and Katya make rounds of the donut shops, two each. They sample product,
do visuals of the kitchens and display cases. Everything is spotless, just as if they
were there every day. It’s encouraging because they didn’t tell anyone they were
coming in.
Katya, “Maria is keeping after everything. I want to give her a bonus.”
Katja, “Two shops I covered are fine, clean, orderly. Whatever you think ees good
bonus. Maybe a few bucks to store managers.”
Katya, “Da.”
Katya, “Maria, you have done a good job overseeing all the stores. They are clean
and orderly. We are satisfied.”
Maria, “Thank you Katya. I appreciate it.”
“Sister and I want to make a bonus, not coming from store profit. Ten thousand for
you, three thousand for other managers.”
“Katya! Oh, wow, thank you. My husband needs a new truck, we were discussing
financing. It’s used, nine thousand, he says it is in great shape, low mileage. Now
we don’t have to get a loan. What a relief.”
“We will pay in cash. Be careful, do not put ten thousand in bank at one time. It is
okay to pay nine thousand in cash for truck. Ten thousand, have to report to
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government, you understand?”

Maria, “Yes, not to worry.”
“And we will not send tax report 1099 to IRS, you do not pay any tax, it will not
show up anyplace.”
Maria, “Sweet, thanks again.”
“Finally, you do not say you got bigger bonus to employee, let them think what
they want, okay?”
Maria, “Not a word.”
“Even better, you pay bonus to employee, five hundred. I will give you cash, you
give to them.”
Maria, “They are good girls, honest, work hard, they deserve it. Customers always
make compliments.”
“Good enough, customer happy, we all get paid, customer not happy, nobody gets
paid.”
Maria laughs, “That’s our new motto Katya.”
While the twins are opening the Houston home, Ellen and Mani are driving to
Malibu. They check into the Malibu Beach Inn.
Mani, “Geez, nice place, look at the ocean, beautiful.”
“Lot better than my Hampton idea. It’s one o’clock. Let’s see if class is in
session.”
It’s called Malibu Beach Yoga, Ellen taps into the phone, finds the schedule.
Mani drives past the building.
“Either she went at eleven, or doesn’t go until six thirty. Okay, taking her here is
troublesome. It’s wide open, no good for the rifle either. Maybe we catch her at
home when she leaves for class. First let’s run by the tennis club, we may have to
do it tomorrow.”
They pull up to the Malibu Tennis Club, private courts, place is nicely dressed up.
Ellen, “Easy enough to tag her with the rifle. Sit right up on the hill and nail her
while she serves. Or maybe do her in the parking lot, but it’s dicey if people are
coming and going.”
Mani, “To the house?”
“May as well, she might run an errand, be in the yard. She’s gonna leave at six or
so for a six thirty yoga class. I don’t see how she gets in a morning SPA session
then to eleven o’clock yoga. Maybe she’s changed her schedule. Her husband
wouldn’t know, he’s in Seattle.”
“Is she even in town?”
“Penny said she is, what she told Katya. By the way, I don’t know that it ever came
up, Penny only knows Katya, and she knows her by another name. There’s no
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twin, no Ellen, no Mani. Keeps the distance, understand?”

“Sure, safer for us too.”
“Yep, if Penny gets compromised, she can’t give up what she doesn’t know. She
doesn’t know about New Orleans, or about Katya Donut since she doesn’t know
any Katya.”
“Katya is careful.”
“If you shoot people for money, you better be.”
The house is nothing special, not Malibu mega manse, not up in the hills or on the
beach. On Ramirez Canyon Road.
Ellen’s paging through listings, “Not the upper end of Malibu, home prices are all
over the lot, but there are nice places for two million, those appear to be forty years
old, some say they need updating, probably means it needs to be gutted.”
The place is boxy, partial two story, painted white. Views of the canyon, not the
ocean. The garage door is open, a mid range BMW inside. Not new, maybe four or
five years old, appears well maintained.
Ellen, “Right license plate. Nobody around. I’ll check the back, wait here.”
She’s back in two minutes, “Rear is up against a small cliff, no backyard, an
earthquake would turn this place into rubble. Load up, gloves, stick your Glock
and hands in your pockets. I’ll ring the bell, if she answers and we verify the target,
pop her.”
Ellen taps the bell, nothing for a minute, then, “Who is it?”
Ellen is holding a small box, “Courier, package for Saundra Masters.”
“Just leave it.”
“Sorry ma’am, needs a signature, I think it’s expensive, insured for a lot anyway.”
The door cracks open, “Insured for how much?”
It’s the target, Mani says, “A hundred thousand,” puts a silenced round in her
forehead.
A small red hole, then blood, she falls backwards to the hardwood floor, head
cracks and bounces.
Mani, “Awesome. My first kill.”
A man’s voice from inside, must be upstairs or deep inside, barely hear it, “Who is
it Saundra?”
Ellen shoves the legs of the corpse aside, closes the door, Mani grabs the shell
casing, they bolt for the car. It’s a half block down the street, not visible from any
part of the house. Ellen learned caution from the twins. Don’t assume the target is
alone, don’t assume somebody isn’t looking out a window. She cranks it up, backs
farther down the street, u-turns, back out they way they came in.
“Sheeyt, that was dicey.”
Mani’s distracted, eyes closed, her hands slip between her legs, she shudders.
 262

Ellen is nonplussed, “You good?”

Mani grins, “I had an orgasm.”
“Dang.”
Mani, “Maybe I should have done him too.”
“We don’t kill people we aren’t paid to kill unless we’re compromised. He was
buried in back someplace, even upstairs. He didn’t see jack or he wouldn’t have
asked the question. He’d have shut up and jumped into a closet if he had.”
Mani, “True, unless he had a death wish.”
“He’s gonna have a rotten day.”
At the hotel, Ellen texts Katya, ‘Conflict resolved.’
Mani, “Do we go home early?”
“No. Even though it’s a crazy long shot, we don’t arouse any curiosity by changing
flights or checking out the day we checked in. Stick the rental plates back on the
car.”
A text dings, ‘Keeping schedule?’
Ellen taps out, ‘Yes.’
They hang at the hotel, long shower, cocktails at the bar, then dinner in the
restaurant. They’re both up for steak, feeling carnivorish after the kill. Ten ounce
filets medium rare, side of mashed, skip appetizer and salad.
Mani, “Steak is great. I love that charred crunch around tender beef. Red wine
sauce is nice.”
Ellen, “Impossible not to like marchand de vin.”
Settle into the room, declothe, polish off another cocktail.
Mani, “Not a virgin assassin anymore. An orgasm, man I’m strange.”
Ellen, “Come here.”
Mani stands next to Ellen, hands on silky legs, teases the sensitive spot, Mani
groans. Ellen slips to her knees, looks up at the sylph while she licks and kisses.
Mani stares down, thinks, “God she’s so hot, and licking me like she loves it,” then
her head explodes, shimmy shake, deep breathing aerobics. She sinks to the floor
and tastes herself on Ellen’s tongue.
“Your turn, in bed, I want to explore everything, then I’m going to fuck you silly.”
An hour later, Ellen is beyond silly, right past hilarious, well into delirious.
“Fucked is me.”
“I’m the luckiest Thai in America, you, twins, Sarah. She asked about the twins,
wanted to know if they, you know.”
“What’d you tell her.”
“Well, they do give off that vibe with each other. I just said they are highly attuned
to each other, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn they think the same thoughts at the
same time. She didn’t pursue it, but she smiled.”
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“Good answer. They haven’t said anything about her to me. I think they see her as
your pal.”
“She’d do you in a heartbeat.”
“How do you know that?”
“Ellen, everyone would do you in a heartbeat, be crazy not to. Besides, she said
so.”
Ellen, “How sweet. Does it bother you?”
Mani, “Come on, why? I’d love to watch her eat you up, probably give me a
whoppergasm.”
Ellen laughs, “We don’t do jealousy, and we don’t do exclusive. Still, she hit on
you, didn’t know how far her lust went.”
Mani, “I was her first real intimacy. I suspect she’s trying to get her game down
before she goes to the big leagues. And she doesn’t know how you guys feel about
it.”
Ellen, “Let her settle in, see if she hangs around. We know a little about her, seems
to have her shit together, but an intimate relationship can change things. If she’s a
little possessive at first, it’s no big deal.”
Tuesday morning, Ellen catches the housekeeper, hands her a few used towels, gets
replacement and tells her no service today. She gives the woman ten bucks, earns a
‘gracias, no service.’
They pack up, take things to the car individually in small bits, avoid giving staff
the idea they’re leaving.
Mani, “It was a nice hotel.”
“Shutters is even sexier and it puts us miles and a lot of people away from the
scene of the crime. Paranoia in our line of work is a necessity.”
Check into Shutters, it’s a Tuesday and Shutters is huge, they don’t have to wait
for a room to clear. Unpack toiletries, leave most of the clothes in the small
suitcases. They disposed of work clothes along the way. It’s more paranoid
procedure. Anyone who saw two people dressed in grey watch caps, baggy cheap
jeans, sneakers and oversize jackets wouldn’t recognize them today.
They take a walk to Venice Beach, enjoy the breeze, sunshine and moderate
temperature. They skipped breakfast, have lunch at James Beach and take their
time with a couple of beers.
Back up the Ocean Walk, right into Santa Monica and the Promenade.
Mani, “They did a nice job with this. No cars, a long fancy open air mall.”
Window shop, women’s shoes, jewelry, clothes are endless. Other stores sell ice
cream, frozen yogurt and candy, restaurants all with seating outside or in. They
make the loop twice, stop for coffee, it’s pressing five, return to Shutters.
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“If it suits, we’ll eat here tonight, enjoy the balcony, get blitzed.”
Mani, “Perfect. We fly out at nine?”
“Yes, three hours and change, lose two in time zones, maybe two o’clock.”
They strip and shower, decide to go downstairs and cocktail at Coast, the casual
bar and restaurant.
Two vodka rocks with an olive, Then a second. A bottle of Piper Heidsieck
champagne, Ellen gets a cheeseburger and fries, Mani ravioli Bolognese, a mixture
of veal and pork.
They’re quiet, enjoying the food, atmosphere and bubbly champagne. A few men
take surreptitious glances, the girls aren’t decked out in anything to attract
attention. Ellen has a shift dress that comes to her knees, Mani’s in silk pants and a
pullover. Still, they are pretty girls, and men do what men do.
Mani giggles, “We’re always getting checked out.”
“Men will check out fat ugly girls, don’t feel special.”
“It’s true, they can’t help themselves. Built into the genome.”
Ellen finishes her burger, “Something comforting about a simple cheeseburger and
fries.”
“Ravioli was tasty, suppose we split this,” she points to the dessert menu, warm
chocolate molten cake, pistachio streusel, vanilla ice cream.
Ellen, “Go for it.”
They share bites, “Christ, this is yummy, chocolate makes me horny, just so you
know.”
Ellen, “I can dehorn you, slut.”
“I wear my badge with honor.”
“In a few minutes, you won’t be wearing anything.”

Ninety One

Ellen and Mani are in Houston with the twins, “Job went smoothly enough, Mani
did her thing. Some guy was there, but he was off someplace, he didn’t see jack.
We only knew cause we heard a muffled question.”
Katya, “There was a man?”
Ellen, “She must have picked him up, there were no other car there, we thought she
was alone.”
Mani is texting Sarah, gets a reply, “She’s getting ready for a run, all anxious to
come over Saturday, we’re going home, right?”
Katya, “Day at the range tomorrow, fly home Thursday. You must practice with
rifle.”
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Mani, “I’m on it. I like shooting up close, but I hope I get a chance at a rifle shot
one day.”
Katja, “We get all kind of jobs. One will come up wiz long shot. Ellen ees best, but
could be we haf to shoot two rifle at once. If you learn, maybe you will be second
one.”
“Oh, I’m going to learn. Murder is so cool, I had an orgasm.”
Katja, “You make joke.”
Ellen, “Nope, we jumped in the car, she shot off.”
Katja shakes her head, “Asian girl, go for figuring.”
They laugh, well, Ellen and Mani, twins don’t laugh.
“Tonight, we haf seemple dinner at home, roast cheeken, mahcahroni chiz, cole
slaw, I buy ice crim, vanilla bean and chocolate only.”
Ellen, “Perfect, we had veggie omelets on the plane. I’m good until dinner.”
They have a relaxed afternoon, if you consider full contact martial arts relaxing.
Mixed martial arts gloves, light chest protector, mouth piece and headgear. By the
time they finish round robin, Mani has a bloody nose, everyone has a few sore
spots, Ellen sprained her ankle when Katja threw her across the mat.
They hydrate underneath a pile of gel packs for an hour, then hobble off to hot
showers.
They’d battled past tea time. After showers, Ellen limps to the kitchen to cut the
chicken in pieces, then into the oven. She starts to microwave macaroni, then finds
a box of Panko breadcrumbs. Instead she microwaves enough to warm, layers the
breadcrumbs over the macaroni, uses the oven to finish heating.
While food warms, cocktails are poured.
Ellen, “Mani did well, she’s small but can take a punch. Fast with her kicks, got a
good left hook too.”
Mani, “Katja almost killed me. I’m going to work on upper body strength. Won’t
be as good as she is, but I can get better.”
Ellen, “The twins have done tumbling and gymnastics since forever. They have
arms and shoulders like granite. They don’t look big, but the strength is there, I’ve
gotten bashed by both of them, it hurts.”
Katya, “Important to get a pain check a few times a year. A busted nose or twisted
ankle will not kill anyone. People feel a little pain, they give up.”
Mani, “Sarah said something about that, it didn’t register. She said one of the
things she likes about running is the pain. She said it was, what did she say, almost
erotic. I wonder….”
Katja, “She ees maybe girl who likes rough. Ellen likes, but we do not want hitting
for Ellen except fight practice. Then everyone ees hit.”
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Ellen, “I get my licks from our fight practice.”

Katja, “I did not mean to hit your nose, only a half shot to your jaw.”
Mani, “I turned my head the wrong way. Good thing we only do half punches to
the head, I’d have a broken nose.”
Ellen, “Let me check on the food, mac is hot, let it rest for a bit. Turn up the oven
and crisp the skin on the chicken, time for another drink.”
They have a second round, then cold Sauvignon Blanc with dinner.
Mani, “I think I’d like a bit of boob.”
Ellen, “We’re still having dinner.”
Mani giggles, “I mean on me. I’m a size nothing. I want to get a couple of apples
installed, what do you think?”
Katya, “Your body, your business.”
“How do I find a good doc?”
Katja, “Eenternet, also I will call Mary, she haf teets put on, she will know.”
Ellen, “It just pop in your head? You never mentioned it before.”
“I like the size of you guys, none of you have whazooms, like I said, more like
apple size. I barely have a plum.”

Ninety Two

A day at the range, Ellen instructs Mani on the rifle. Today she spends two hours
while the twins shoot moving targets in the barn, then try and hit clays with pistols.
It’s not so simple and they miss half , but it significantly improves eye hand
coordination. They have better luck by firing repeatedly and usually bust the clay
before they empty the magazine.
Mani and Ellen take a turn with the pistols, Ellen gets maybe a quarter of the clays,
Mani pops a couple.
She laughs at herself, “I’m a rank amateur at clays. I definitely need a shotgun.”
Katya, “We just do it for fun, but you have a point. We should start you on
shotgun, then more pistol later. Clays are hard to get with a handgun, we made a
little improvement. Perfecting that would take months, maybe years of practice.”
“Ees no enough practicing. We come to Houston every month, but only to range
maybe every two month. We will come every time. One whole day for only
shooting.”
On the drive back to town, Ellen says, “Mani’s coming along with the rifle. She
can make a head shot at one hundred. Next time, more one hundred, then one
fifty.”
Mani, “The scopes do most of the work.”
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“That is the idea. Drop begins to be serious over a hundred yards, so learning to
properly calibrate the scope is essential.”
They have another quiet evening, go for Mexican and get swizzled on tequila and
beer. They took a cab to avoid police problems, even Katya is tipsy.
Katja, “We will slip now, everyone haf beeg glass of water, maybe a couple of
aspirin.”
They aren’t home twenty minutes before they’re collapsed and unconscious.
Ellen’s up early enough to make coffee, she rouses the rest and they begin the
process of closing the house. Check all the doors, plug the chargers on the cars,
turn off water and unplug appliances. Then to Hobby for their short flight. They’re
home in New Orleans by ten thirty.
Ellen, “Leave suitcases and gun cases, Mani and I will deal, lunch at twelve
thirty.”
Mani starts laundry while Ellen puts away guns, then goes out for cold cuts.
They kill the remainder of the day quietly, Mani in language practice, she speaks
Russian with the twins, she and Ellen shift to Japanese, then she does French on
her own.
Later, at tea, “My head’s swimming, I need to stick to English for the evening.”
Katja, “I spoke wiz Lady Mary, she recommend Dr. Dobbs, I look him up, he ees
get good rating, lots of happy patient.”
Mani, “Gee, thanks. I’ll call for an appointment tomorrow. Wow, I can’t believe
I’m getting breasts, I guess it hurts huh?”
Katja, “Mary said ees uncomfortable first day, then tight for a few days, not to
stretch skin, only careful sponge bathing. Then ees fine.”
“That’s good, I guess, better to have an idea.”
Katya, “They have now a pain pump. During the surgery a tiny tube is set to
supply Marcaine, long lasting local anesthetic into the surgical area for three to
five days. No side effect, doesn’t go to bloodstream, so it doesn’t go to brain. Most
women just take over the counter pain medicine, Tylenol or Aleve. But the local
anesthetic does most of the work.”
Mani, “Oh, that’s even better, did Mary mention it?”
Katja, “I think she had breast a long time ago, maybe did not haf pain pump. You
will make sure doctor uses it.”
“I sure will, this is so cool, tits.”
“I’m proteining us up with steak tonight, regular filets, I didn’t have time for sauce,
you’ll have to suffer with it undressed. A baked potato, I have all the extras, and
I’ll sauté mushrooms too.”
Mani’s phone dings, text from Sarah, ‘just finished a run, wuzup’
‘getting boobs!’
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‘now?’
‘no, making appointment tomorrow, found a good doc i think, dobbs, your dad
know him’
‘ask him later, need a shower, kisses.’
‘bye, cu sat’
Drinks, dinner, TV, bed, girls are looking forward to a stretch of nothing after
travel.
In the morning, there’s a text on Mani’s phone, ‘dobbs first rate, good choice, cu
sat angel grl.’
Mani, “She’s so sweet.”
After breakfast, Mani makes an appointment, it’s two weeks out. A good sign,
Dobbs is a busy guy.

Ninety Three

Saturday afternoon, Mani races by the table where the others are having tea,
“Going to pick up Sarah, back in a few.”
Katja, “What ees dinner?”
“Veal Marsala, roasted vegetables, mashed with the extra Marsala sauce, brownies
with fudge topping, vanilla ice cream.”
Katya, “You give me appetite, but I will wait, no snacking. We will be hungry for
good dinner.”
Mani returns with her cutie, “Hey Ellen, hi Katya, Katja. Wow, what smells so
good?”
“Marsala sauce.”
“Veal Marsala?”
“Yep.”
“Ooohhhh, God I love that, thanks for having me over.”
Mani, “Let’s put your stuff up.”
They bounce up to the third, there’s a bit of laughter, then it’s quiet.
Ellen, “I can imagine the scene. Mani has been frenzied all day.”
An hour later, it’s cocktails, the girls come down, Sarah is stuck to Mani, who
appears to enjoy being velcro’d. Ellen hands Mani a vodka, glass of Sauvignon
Blanc to Sarah.
“Thank you Ellen,” she sips, “yummy, light as air and just a bite of tart.”
Ellen, “Glad you like it, lots of teens want sweet, we don’t buy sweet wine or
champagne.”
“Dad would never have that stuff in the house. He’s a surgeon, and surgeons are
anal retentive, precise, everything should be a certain way, and wine should not be
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sweet. I grew up on sips of Cabernet and Pinot Noir, about as light as he gets is
Beaujolais in reds. The whites were always Graves, Pinots or Sauvignon, like this
one.”
Ellen, “I didn’t say what it was, the bottle is in the refrigerator.”
“I’m pretty good at picking the grape, vintage is another matter.”
“You have the nose.”
“Yes, like I said, pretty good, not an expert.”
Ellen, “Dinner went over well,” Sarah is soaking up the last of the sauce with a
hunk of French bread, plates are empty, there’s nothing leftover.
Sarah, “God that was special, cut the veal with a fork.”
Katya, “Thank you Ellen, we are spoiled by your cooking.”
“That’s the idea babies. And brownies for later, with ice cream if you wish.”
Sarah is sitting between Ellen and Mani, she leans to Ellen, rests her hand on bare
thigh, kisses her cheek, then neck, “Thank you from me too.”
Ellen smiles, Sarah gives her a peck on the lips, hand travels up, then down to
knee.
Ellen, “Cutie.”
Katja, “See ees make flirt wiz Ellen already.”
“Da, not as shy as we thought.”
Sarah squeezes Mani’s hand, “Can we go to your room, watch something on
Netflix or whatever?”
Mani, “Soon as I help Ellen clean up.”
Ellen, “Go on, have fun with your guest, I’ve got it.”
They scoot up the steps.
Ellen, “She’s quite the flirt.”
Katja, “She anyway haf good tasting in girls.”
Katja helps clear the table, Katya surfs for entertainment. She settles on Run All
Night, an aging Liam Neeson plays an aging hit man caught between his work and
saving an estranged son who’s gotten on the wrong side of the mob. Halfway
through Mani and Sarah come along looking for brownies, they pause the movie to
sugar load.
Mani, “What are you watching?”
Ellen, “It’s good, lots of action, bad guys doing bad guy stuff,” she covers the plot
so far.
Sarah, “Let’s finish it with them, sounds simple enough to catch up on.”
Mani and Sarah curl up on an oversize leather chair, practically a loveseat. Katya
clicks the remote and the action starts again.
When it’s over Sarah says, “Think they killed enough people?”
Mani, “Well, he was a hitman, and the mob is the mob.”
 270

Sarah, “I think about being a hitman, it sounds sexy, contract killer. Nobody
screws with a hitman.”
Mani, “That would be a bad idea, like in the movie.”
Sarah points a finger, makes shooting noises, pow, pow, pow, “Have you ever shot
a gun?”
Mani, “Yes.”
“No kidding, where?”
Ellen, “We do a little target practice, just for the experience. Katja was interested,
we took a lesson, shot loaner pistols a few times.”
Sarah, “If you ever go again, can I tag along?”
Ellen, “Sure, why not, assume your folks are okay with it.”
“My dad has a gun, but it’s locked up, he let me hold it once, taught me to check
the chamber if I ever picked up a gun, make sure it isn’t loaded. That’s the extent
of my experience.”
Katya, “Sister and I go to bed, good night everyone. Tomorrow Ellen, we will go
maybe to EnVie.”
Ellen, “Sounds good, night honeys.”
Sarah whispers something to Mani, starts up the stairs and turns to look at Ellen,
smiles when she sees Ellen checking out long lean legs. Then on to Mani’s room.
Mani, “You know what she wants. Now that she’s had sex, she’s hot for more.”
Ellen, “Then let’s expand her horizons.”
When they get to the bedroom, Sarah is already nude, sitting on the edge of the
bed. Ellen walks to her, strips off her t-shirt, all she’s wearing. Sarah looks up,
slides off the bed to her knees and dives straight in, foreplay forgotten.
A few minutes later, Ellen has the inevitable, holding the back of Sarah’s head
against her until the hormone tsunami ebbs.
“Ahhh, good job angel.”
Sarah is grinning, she laughs, “I love this stuff, Mani’s stuff and now your stuff.
I’m stuffing myself.”
Ellen pulls her up, “Lay down, we’re gonna double stuff your fine self.”
Sarah, “Oh God.”

Ninety Four

To EnVie, they spot Gerard, “Good morning all, I see young Sarah is visiting, I’m
just into my opening almond au lait.”
Katja, “We will haf beeger table, you will sit wiz us.”
Michael brings coffee and tea, he remembers Sarah’s café au lait, “Always glad to
have you dress up the place on a lovely Sunday morning.”
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Katja, “You know order, da?”

“I do, and I’ll give you a bit to enjoy your drinks, then breakfast.”
“Good, thanking you, Michael.”
He says to Gerard, “She is just too adorable, I would kill to marry her, but it is not
my destiny.”
Gerard, “Dear boy, no man will be so much as dating these young ladies, you
didn’t lose out to a competitor. At least no competitor you had a chance of
competing with.”
Katja, “You are still anyway nice person Michael, even eef you are man person.”
Gerard, “High compliment from Katja.”
Michael laughs, “Thank you, back with breakfast shortly.”
Gerard, “Have you seen the news, local news?”
Katya, “Nyet, what is it?”
“Someone apparently takes strong exception to prostitutes, two dead in twenty four
hours.”
Sarah, “Where, in the Quarter?”
Gerard, “One, another near the Convention Center. I don’t wish to be gruesome, so
let’s leave method out of it before breakfast.”
Katya is tapping her phone, “Throats slit.”
Gerard, “So much for gentility.”
Sarah, “My father is a surgeon, I’ve had detailed surgical stories since I was a kid.
Used to drive my mother nuts, she told dad he was going to screw me up. I bugged
him for stories anyway. She finally gave up.”
Katya, “Now there will be stories about Jack the Ripper.”
Gerard, “French influence in New Orleans, they’re saying Jacques le Ripper,
which isn’t even a correct translation.”
Katya rolls her eyes, “Idiots.”
Katja, “Eef prostituting was legal, they would not be een danger from crazy person
so much.”
Katya, “Gerard, can you find out about girls? More than just prostitute, about their
life? Who do they know, work for pimp, or escort service, independent. Story
online does not say.”
Gerard, “Caught your attention then. Let me make a few inquiries, I’ll call if I’m
able to find anything.”
Breakfast arrives, Gerard is a light eater, he’s primarily here for the almond au lait,
Michael brings his second, and a poppy seed muffin.
Gerard, “You eat like football players and are all slim and trim, I have no idea how
you do it.”
 272

Ellen, “We train hard, treadmill, stationary bike, rowing machine, a heavy bag to
punch. When we’re done we’re a sweaty mess. Sarah runs competitively, five
thousand meters and has damn good times. We could eat fried buttered Snickers all
day.”
Gerard, “Ah, I was wondering. My life has been more sedentary, activity for me is
a couple of flights of stairs. I enjoy New Orleans food, but in small portions, an
exception when I have one of Ellen’s masterpieces or the odd trip to Galatoire’s.”
“Your acquaintance has had no more problems?”
“None, you cleared that up nicely, he’s his old gregarious self.”
Sarah, “What did Katya do?”
Gerard, “A man I knew socially thought he was having visions of the future, a
child dying in a hospital, a woman getting a marriage proposal. He was also
experimenting with hallucinogens. Katya figured out the things he thought were
predictions had in fact already happened, but the drugs gave him flashbacks. So his
future was actually past.”
Sarah, “Gee, must have felt creepy.”
“He was quit distraught. Once he got an explanation, it made sense. He’s not
experimenting any longer, life’s back to its ordinarily confusing normal.”
Food’s gone, Katja settles the check, Gerard says, “Thank you, you needn’t pay for
me.”
“Ees no problem, you will find out about prosteetoot and call sister.”
“I shall indeed, enjoy your day girls.”
They move along, up Decatur to Jackson Square, circle the square and take in
tourists being taken in by tarot readers and modestly talented artists. Picasso
doesn’t paint in Jackson Square. Your future isn’t in the cards.
They cross Decatur and up to the Moonwalk, find a bench and park.
Sarah, “I’m always amazed at the river, the water level higher than the city. If the
levee breaks, it’s the end.”
Katya, “They take good care of levee, never have a problem. Katrina caused 17th
street levee to fail in Lakeview and Industrial Canal because of poor construction
planning. Also Gulf outlet canal broke in several spots and flooded St. Bernard.
They did not think the water would ever get high enough to run over levee. When
it did, it ate away the dirt and the levee broke. Then the flood. Mississippi River
does not get pushed high by hurricane.”
Sarah, “You know a lot about it.”
“On the internet, I researched when we thought of moving here. We have good
flood insurance, if French Quarter floods, all of New Orleans is lost. French
Quarter is highest ground.”
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They watch massive grain ships navigate the crescent around Algiers point. An oil
tanker chugs slowly upstream against the powerful river current. All ships have to
have a qualified river pilot who knows the currents, where the sand bars are,
navigate under bridges and past long lines of barges pushed along by tugboats. The
river is a busy place. The pilot knows how to navigate upstream against the current
which is different from downstream with it. River pilot is one of Louisiana’s most
lucrative jobs, a closed community high in nepotism.
Mani, “Do you have any ideas on the killings?”
Katya, “Bad idea to get theory before fact. All the news said was prostitute and
throat slashed. They didn’t even say if the killer was right or left handed, or how
tall he might be, nothing useful.”
“Gerard ees pal with police person, he will find out more.”
Sarah, “It’s none of my business, but why do you want to know?”
Katya, ‘Curious only. If one girl is killed, could be anything. Two in one day, a
couple of miles apart. One is found at midnight, the second an hour later. They did
not say midnight was first, just when they were discovered. Could have been hours
difference. Maybe still figuring it out.”
Sarah, “I see, Katya likes little puzzles, yes?”
Ellen, “Katya has to have her mind occupied, it’s like an information vacuum
sucking up all the surrounding data.”
Sarah giggles, “Then it will be fun to see if she can piece together the crime and
find the killer.”
Katya, “Maybe he is not finished.”
Sarah, “Oh, that’s not good. Those women have a difficult life already, now this.”
Ellen, “It’s hard to understand a woman working for a pimp, all the bullshit about
love, a few trinkets, then pushed out to pay for his lifestyle. Beaten if they don’t
make enough money.”
Mani, “I have no sympathy for them. They claim to hate the job and do it anyway.
Must not hate it that bad, or they’re junkies and need cash all the time.”
Sarah, “They don’t see a way out, at least that’s what I’ve read.”
“Get on the bus and ride, pimp has no idea where she goes. When she gets to some
town far away, become a hotel maid, waitress, anything. But they don’t. I watched
a program called Tricked on Netflix. A documentary. Lots of times, even after an
offer of a way out, they return to the pimp. She is too confused to help. If the pimp
beats a girl, she can find a gun and shoot him, or do what happened to the two
prostitutes, cut his throat. He won’t be beating girls anymore.”
Sarah, “Take a lot of courage, I suppose they don’t have it.”
Mani, “Funny, they go in a car with a guy they don’t know, or to some crap motel
room. They must have some courage. I supposes there is a dynamic I don’t
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understand.”
Katja, “Da, stupid dynamic. Girl ees dumb, dumb person is too stupid to know they
are stupid. Figuring out how to sneak away on bus, get a job een hotel ees beyond
them.”
Sarah, “You may be onto something there.”
Mani, “That was kind of evident in the documentary, some are educated, but a lot
aren’t, not so much as a GED, maybe not eighth grade. They do the thing that
requires no skill or brains, just suck and fuck.”
Katya, “Enough sociology, maybe Gerard finds out something, maybe not. We
might see more murder or killer was passing though and is long gone by now.”
Sarah, “A tourist?”
“Anything, airline pilot on layover, man at a convention, crew member of ship in
port. Maybe he kills all over the world.”
Mani, “That would make a good book. Life on a tanker, different ports, find a
prostitute. Probably not hard to find around docks, men at sea for long stretches,
randy as rabbits when the ship docks.”
“You said you wanted to write novel, so write one.”
Mani, “Wow…finally a concept hits me, thank you Katya.”
“Ne upominayte ob etom.”
Sarah, “What’s…oh Russian of course. What’s it mean?”
“Don’t mention it, a reply to thank you.”

Ninety Five

Girls return home, Ellen makes finger sandwiches at one, then they wander off to
read, Mani and Sarah pile up in bed and watch a movie called Whiplash, about a
young jazz drummer and his abusive instructor.
Sarah, “Do you think it’s necessary to drive people so hard?”
Mani, “Kind of depends on the person. Some people are self motivated, others
need a push to move beyond their limits, some need a push to even move. The
conductor had a point. If a student gives up because they can’t take the pressure,
then they can live in mediocrity, or at least not expand their boundaries.”
Mani turns to Sarah, slips her hand between legs, “Somebody’s wet,” she kneels,
pulls off panties and releases Sarah’s sexual tension with her tongue.
Sarah is gasping, staring at the ceiling, “Jesus, that was my most violent orgasm
ever, I was a volcano waiting to erupt.”
Mani takes a final lick, “I like your lava,” they giggle like seventh graders.
Dress, go downstairs, Sarah says her goodbyes and thank yous, Mani takes her
home.
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Ellen, “I think she’s good for Mani, a play buddy.”

Katja, “She ees also like to jump Ellen.”
“She gave me a go, she’s hot and sweet, gotta say. She wants anything else from
me, alls she gotta do is ask.”
Katya, “What is dinner?”
Ellen, “Fried chicken, cornbread, with corn, cheese and jalapeno, baked beans and
cherry pie.”
Katya, “Then I am for cocktail and anticipating.”
They’re in the courtyard with drinks, Mani returns, pours a Sapporo and joins
them.
“Her parents are such nice people. Her dad doesn’t say, but mom made it pretty
plain that Sarah’s sexual activity isn’t a problem for them. She’s almost relieved
Sarah’s a lesbian. She said it was better than worrying about STDs and
pregnancy.”
Katya, “So she let you know that she knows what’s going on and that they are okay
with it.”
Mani, “How I read it. I didn’t confirm or deny, just listened. It was a quick
conversation, Sarah was in her room.”
The phone dings, Katya answers, it’s Gerard, “Katya or Katja?”
“Katya.”
“I have a few details. The women both worked for the same pimp, outrageous
name, Delicious. One woman was white, one black, they lived in the same
cramped shotgun house with a third. The white woman was at the Convention
Center, appears she was murdered first but found last.”
“How many women does he run?”
Gerard, “Six, the others live in the apartment next door. I suppose it is simpler to
keep track of them that way.”
Katya, “Any details of killer?”
“Estimated height, six feet, right handed. Neck severed near halfway through. Cuts
were identical, appears to be a very sharp instrument, but not surgical. The skin is a
bit ragged along both sides of the cut.”
“Strong man with serrated blade then.”
Gerard, “That’s what they think, how did you know?”
“Deep cut, ragged edges, hard to see what else it might be. Where are other girls
now?”
“Police picked them up, not as suspects, for their own safety.”
“Someone is killing Delicious string of girls.”
“So it seems.”
“We will see. If there is another woman tonight, will not be from same pimp.”
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“You think there will be another?”

“No idea, if there is, maybe first two were coincidental. They are interviewing his
competitors?”
“Yes, rounded up all the known players, but they think it’s a long shot. The same
guys have been doing this for several years, they know each other. They meet,
have drinks, even parties and drag along the women. I’m told that interaction
prevents rivalries, even the kind of thing that happened to the two. It’s a closed
community in a way. I don’t know much about the upscale sex workers.”
“Escort girls work a different clientele. Call girl gets a lot more money, doesn’t
have sex in a car, an alley or a cheap motel. She meets customer at a hotel or
restaurant. Sometimes, just dinner, lonely man wants dinner companion who is
attractive also. They get two thousand or more for two hours at dinner, thousands
more to go to hotel, even more to stay all night. Those are New York prices, but
high end anywhere is not close to street prostitute.”
Gerard, “Good Lord, people actually pay that sort of money?”
“For some people, it is pocket change only. A few thousand for a beautiful woman
is nothing.”
She doesn’t mention it would be nothing to them either, but they already have
lovely willing intimate partners. Be like buying what you already have three of.
Gerard, “That’s all I have for now.”
Katya, “Thank you for the details.”
“Most welcome,” they click off.
Ellen, “Dinner’s ready.”
At the table, Katya relates what Gerard found out.
Mani, “Gerard seems well connected.”
Soon enough, they will find out just how well connected. In the meantime, they
enjoy cold crispy pinot, and crunch hot crispy chicken.
Ellen, “I got a burst of inspiration and made hush puppies.”
Katja picks up the golf ball size delicacy, “What ees?”
“Take a bite, they’re cooled off enough.”
Katja bites half, chews, swallows, “Seester, you must try.”
Katya takes one, “Fried cornbread, ohnyon, what else?”
“Flour mixed with corn flour, buttermilk, touch of sugar.”
Katja, “You will make again, wiz fish fry.”
“You got it baby girl.”
Mani, “I love fried chicken, we had pretty good chicken places in Jackson, my aunt
used to get it once a week. Friday was chicken night. She was a pain, but not about
food.”
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Katja, “Ellen makes best, creespy wizout grease, like she makes feesh fry. Now we
haf also hush dog, I am hafing another.”
Mani laughs, “Nobody can eat one hush puppy.”
“Why ees call hushing puppy?”
Ellen, “Hunters and fishermen used to fry cornmeal they used to batter their food
and give it the dogs to keep them quiet, to hush the puppies.”
Mani, “I’m glad they figured it out, these things are addictive.”

Ninety Six

Dinner over, Katya says, “We will go to Snug Harbor and listen to jazz. Nice night,
do not sit at home and watch movie.”
They hit the street at seven thirty, Snug Harbor is a five minute walk.
Katya, “Ellis Marsalis tonight, he is good musician. Jazz is relaxing.”
Downstairs is pretty full, they opt to sit upstairs, a three sided balcony surrounds
the stage and the ground floor. It’s a small space, you can hear the music and see
the band from any seat.
A waitress comes along, orders of vodka on ice, Seagram’s VO for Ellen, Mani has
a glass of sparkling wine. They settle in and enjoy quality jazz, professionally
played. Katya likes it, jazz is soothing, and Ellis Marsalis, unlike some musicians
with a captive audience, doesn’t drone on and on before actually playing.
Katya, “Before Mani, we came to hear Charmaine Neville, she is a good singer,
but she spends half the time talking, not singing. We don’t come for her anymore.”
Mani, “I’ve heard DJs like that at clubs. Have to run their mouth through the entire
song.”
The music starts, for the next hour they’re lifted off to another place, no politics,
no action movie, no family drama TV. Katya in particular relates to the music, her
internal savage beast hush puppyed for the hour of free flowing rhythm, solos from
each of the quartet, Marsalis’ smooth piano.
Ellen, “It’s nice here, basic old style club, wooden chairs, wooden tables,
remarkable because nothing is remarkable but the music.”
They move to the bar downstairs for a final drink, the bartender remembers mirror
image twins, “Hey ladies, good to see you again, what’ll it be?”
They are left to themselves, it isn’t a hookup kind of place. The times they’ve been
it’s a quarter locals, the rest tourists. People tend to come with dates, or groups of
four or six. A middle age crowd, the four girls are an anomaly. Young people
generally gravitate to dance clubs on Bourbon Street. The twins can’t go there,
some sleaze horn dog would wind up hospitalized.
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Finish up cocktails, they shove off and stroll along Frenchman, Spotted Cat across
the street, then the Blue Nile and Maison. The two block stretch of Frenchman has
become home to four jazz clubs, although Blue Nile has a more varied musical
mix. As the approach Decatur to take a right towards home, there’s a muffled
screech coming from down the street, near the Frenchman Hotel.
Katja, “Ellen, you will stay wiz Mani, sister and I will see.”
Half block away, there’s a scuffle, a woman is being dragged from behind into an
alley between the hotel and the house next door.
It’s dark in the alley but they can see a big man with his arm around a woman’s
neck and one hand over her mouth. He’s occupied with controlling her, has her
facing one wall. He hasn’t seen the twins yet.
He’s clearly choking the woman, takes his hand from her mouth, she’s gagging,
can’t scream. Katya spots the gleam of an eight inch serrated bred knife. He
removes his arm from the choke, grabs her hair, and the knife comes up.
Katya has her Glock to his head, she clicks back the hammer, “Don’t even think
it.”
He hesitates, Katja grabs his wrist, then uses her left hand to snap his elbow, the
big blade clatters to the ground. She kicks his feet out from under him, he splats
hard to the concrete dazed. Katja kicks the knife to the wall and out of his reach.
Katya is on one knee, which is planted hard between his shoulder blades. The
woman, smallish, hefty and black, is coughing, a wheeze, more cough until she
catches her breath.
“You done saved my ass girls, donno where you come from, but I am one grateful
bitch. You got guts, he ain’t no small fuck,” she’s pissed now, kicks him in the
ribs, “motherfucker!”
While the victim is occupied kicking the perp, Katja takes Katya’s gun, goes to
Ellen and gives it to her along with the one she’s carrying.
“Take guns home, no guns, we will be along later, no questions, disappear now.”
Katja returns to the alley, calls 911, then calls Gerard.
Cops are everywhere, one is talking to Gerard, another interviewing the twins and
the victim. Then two detectives show up, talk to the street cops.
“Ma’am, how about you go over it again.”
Katya does, the woman is going ninety to nothing about how these two girls saved
her ass and fucking cops ought to leave them alone.
A patrol officer leads her to the side.
The perpetrator is cuffed despite dislocated elbow and cracked ribs. Detective Two
is talking to him as he’s stuffed in the back of the ambulance.
He comes over to the confab with Detective One, “Guy said you have gun.”
Katya, “I have a knuckle, she crinkles her forefinger, he thought it was gun, sticks
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the knuckle behind Katja’s head. Sister broke elbow and he drops knife, then we
put him on ground.”
“Who kicked him?”
“Did not see any kick, maybe he is hurt falling.”
The victim says, “Yeah, nobody kick his murdering ass, shoulda though.”
Detective One, “You see a gun?”
Victim, “Wasn’t no got-damn gun, girl done told you. You see a fucking gun
motherfucker?”
Detective Two, “Okay ma’am settle down now.”
“Settle the fuck DOWN? Asshole tried to cut my throat, like he did them whores
the otha night. These girls only reason I ain’t the same. They did more than got-
damn cops. I settle down when I have my ass on a barstool.”
Katya, “You have knife, you have man, take name, number, we go home, do not
anymore talking all night.”
Detective One, “I may have more questions.”
Katya, “That is your problem, we do not have more answers, we will go now.”
She and Katja walk off, the Detectives scurry behind, “Now wait a minute, we
have…” Gerard is there.
“Detective Franks, so good to see you.”
“How’d you get…?”
Gerard, “These women are two of my friends, residents of the Quarter. They have
stopped a serial murderer in his tracks. You have a significant arrest as a result. It
is getting late, young ladies need to be at home. Goodnight Franks, Detective
Sullivan.”
Sullivan hasn’t caught on yet, “Hold on..”
Gerard turns, “Franks, explain to the detective who I will call next and where his
new beat will be.”
Franks, “Leave it Marty. He’s right, we have the guy wrapped up, three witnesses,
if he isn’t the guy who killed the other two, I’ll buy beer for the rest of your life.
Let’s fill out the paper and call it a night.”
Sullivan, “Just a couple more…”
Franks glares at the overzealous younger man, “Fill out paper, call it a night.”
The twins walk down Decatur with Gerard.
Katja, “Thanking you for coming.”
Gerard, “No, thank you for calling, I would have been disappointed to miss the
action. You will give a formal statement, with an attorney present. Do not deviate
one word from tonight’s story. You will be in and out of the interview in less than
half an hour. The other girls?”
“We send home.”
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Gerard, “Good, they were never here. You and your sister were taking an evening
stroll, where were you before?”
“Snug Harbor.”
“Good. Your friends were with you, they went home, you two wanted to walk a bit
before retiring for the evening. The rest you know.”
Katya, “Do we wind up in news?”
Gerard, “I assume that is a problem for you, so, no, you do not wind up in the
news. Did the victim catch on to twins?”
Katya, “I doubt it, we are dressed differently, hair up, hair down, Katja wears
Fedora. Woman was too nervous to pay much attention.”
Gerard, “I’ll have her spoken to, just to make sure. It was dark as death in the alley,
you are likely correct.”
It’s Monday when they meet the lawyer, Dominic Gennaro. Gerard referred them
to him, he does some criminal work, mostly an all purpose generic attorney. Your
kid gets busted for dope, you have a DWI, assault charge, crime light.
Gennaro, “Story is solid, took guts to charging in there with no weapon, but you
did.”
Katya, “You will represent victim?”
“Haven’t been asked.”
“You will find out if she needs lawyer, you will help her.”
“She’s a hooker, not a problem for me, but not the type to have a wad of money,
her pimp might pay, but he’ll take it out of her earnings.”
“We will pay, just see if she needs you. Maybe murderer has money, you will sue
him for her.”
Gennaro, “Okay, I’ll call today. About the retainer….”
“Here is five thousand, you will give me itemized bill, Gerard recommends so I do
not expect to see a hundred hours of billable work. If you are fair, maybe more
work.”
“Gerard knows me, I have rules, I play by them, first rule is don’t rip off the
client.”
“Good to hear. When do we see police?”
Gennaro, “They haven’t contacted you?”
“Nyet.”
“That’s a good sign. Tell you what, I’ll call them, but not about you, about the
victim. When I find her, I’ll tell her what we discussed, she how she wants to
handle it.”
“If man pays money, you get a quarter, no more. There will be no forty percent
plus expenses. It is good offer, and only offer.”
Gennaro laughs, “Gerard said you are direct. I can work with it, I don’t want
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misunderstandings either. And I understand your concerns, just know that Gerard
would have my head if I try and screw you over, he’s made that plain already.”
“Gerard is a good man. Thank you for your help, if cops do not call, good.
Criminal maybe takes a plea and we do not have to testify.”
“My guess is that’s likely, he’s staring at the death penalty.”
The twins take off, nothing to do but wait, Katya calls Gerard.
“Lawyer seems okay, I hired him to find victim and see if she needs help.”
Gerard, “Most kind. I am waiting to hear more about the killer. They had to get his
elbow repaired, and he’s got one broken rib and two fractured. He’s down for
attempted murder, I don’t know exactly what they have for the other two women,
there were no witnesses and dead people don’t testify. I suppose forensics might
tell a story, maybe he left DNA, clothing fibers, something.”
“He had open hand on victim’s mouth, not a glove, knife is probably the same
one.”
“Good, lucky break, rather stupid not wearing gloves. Considering his crimes, he’s
not the brightest star in the sky. Oh, the woman you saved wasn’t one run by
Delicious.”
“So maybe first two are coincidence.”
“Seems that way. And now, I wonder if we might have a face to face, I would like
to run something by you. Just you and Katja for the moment, if that is possible.”
“They are here, where to you suggest?”
“Just come to my place, an hour from now if you have the time.”
She agrees, they click off.
Katya tells the others, “Gerard has something to talk over, sister and I will go in an
hour and find out.”
Ellen, “We have lots of housework, probably done around tea time.”
Katja, “After Gerard, we will pick up sandwich from EnVie and bring home.”
Ellen, “Thank you sweetie, wonder what Gerard wants?”
Our girls are going to get rather busy.

End of Twice as Dead Volume 1