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Pavlovich snapped him a disappointed look. “And where are you at?”
“Oh, at the other end of the town. Down at the bottom of the hill. On the plaza.”
Nik was content to remain behind them, not wanting to get on anyone’s radar. The look that Pavlovich shot Korsak interested him. Unlike Yerik Alexandrov, whom he had met, this man conducted himself as if he were in the military. What was Pavlovich’s background? An ex-Spetsnaz officer? Someone who had been of high rank? Maybe he could get Daria to make contact later with Shield Security and get the goods on him. In the meantime, Nik felt as if he were stepping on fragile eggs with the unknown, new mafia leader from New York City. He was brisk, a man of few words, but Nik sensed he wasn’t brutal like Korsak. Maybe he was, but showed it only when necessary? Nik was unsure. Korsak was floundering. He’d showed his lack of polish already, and that didn’t seem to sit well with Pavlovich. He’d better be careful himself. With Korsak not trusting him, and already badmouthing him in front of Pavlovich, he desperately needed to make a good impression on the new don.
As they made it into town, Pavlovich halted abruptly. They stood on the busy square, the Catholic church at the other end of it.
“Korsak, meet me in the lobby of my hotel at 0900 tomorrow morning. Sharp.”
“Of course, Don Pavlovich. Is there anything else—”
“No.” Pavlovich turned to Nik. “Do you know where this hotel is?”
“Yes sir, I do.”
Pavlovich looked relieved. “At least one of you knows something. Come with us.”
Kravec and Duboff brought up the rear, suitcases in both hands, out of earshot, staying well out of the don’s way.
“Yes, sir,” Nik murmured, falling in behind them. He felt glee, but kept his face carefully arranged as Korsak’s mouth fell open. So, it seemed that Pavlovich rewarded those who were intelligent. If that was the case, he was the smartest of the five of them. It could bode well in his favor. Korsak looked confused and angry, but said nothing.
As they moved up the street, Pavlovich snapped his fingers, ordering Nik to walk at his side. “Do YOU know what star rating this hotel is, Morozov?”
“Yes, sir. It’s a four star.”
Pavlovich gave him a long, appraising look. “I thought you might know. You have intelligence, Morozov. I like men who think and are educated.”
“Yes, sir.” He saw the man’s expression beginning to ease. “Is the headache receding, Don Pavlovich?” It was a bold move on Nik’s part, but he felt the Russian respected his medical expertise.
“You’re astute, too.” Smiling a little, Pavlovich murmured, “Yes, it’s going away. Does anyone else on your team have your brains?”
“No, sir.”
Pavlovich burst out laughing. His guards laughed along.
Nik didn’t know what to think of their reaction.
“Well, at least I can rely on you for an honest answer, Morozov. That’sveryrefreshing.”
They entered the hotel and Nik guided Don Pavlovich to the registration desk where he was quickly taken care of. He had the penthouse suite. Pavlovich gestured for Nik to follow him into the same elevator, not the baggage elevator that Kravec and Duboff were ordered to take. One of the don’s guards went with them and another guard remained with the baggage men.
“I’m in need of some Vicodin. Do you have any in your ruck, Morozov?”
“Yes, sir, I always carry it.”
Pavlovich gave him an amused look as the elevator zoomed upward. “Not to sell as a drug, I hope?”
“No, sir. Never. It’s for pain relief only.”
“I have a touchy back. Just got out of an operation six months ago and my doctor is slowly weaning me off the damned stuff but, if I don’t get it soon, I’m going to be screaming with pain.”
“You won’t,” Nik assured him. “I have enough to tide you over.”
Pavlovich looked him slowly up and down. “How long you been with Korsak?”
“Two years, sir. Before that, three years with Yerik Alexandrov’s son, Vlad.”
“You’ve been down here for a long time.”
