Nyet, the Irish are up to no good on our turf. I can’t allow the fuckers to take an inch of our territory, it’s not happening.
It’s fucking incredible that the stupid Irish are on our turf, and this bullshit falls in my hands. It’s not as if they’re fucking organized, nor do they have any type of serious hierarchy. Most of the Irish went into the civil jobs, polices, post office, that sort of thing. But fuck, they’re here. To the world, they’re not active, thought of as a thing of the past, but they’re here.
And now they’re trying to take our turf!
That’s not happening.
Nyet!
I’m the fuckingObshchak, the Pakhan’s fucking Consigliere, one of his Spies. The other Spie, Sovietnik, is my twin, Czar. Pakhan is our older Brat Lev. He takes his role seriously as Pakhan and has a tight rein on the Bratva. Pakhan monitors everything, and as one of his Spies, Obshchak, it’s my job to handle Bratva security. That’s why I’m fucking pissed off.
I have to take out the Irish.
These motherfuckers will not take our turf, not after all we went through.
Before Lev came to New York, he was in Russia, getting groomed for Pakhan. Our Otets was Pakhan, and he had us train here, but we had the same intense training as Lev.
A few years ago, the stupid sovolch’ Obshchak Balken tried a coup and killed my Otets, the Pakhan, but he failed. The suka didn’t know about us, Lev arrived in New York, got Balken’s fucking routine down to the last fuck, and that’s literally all he did, and we took the svoloch’ out ASAP. The motherfucker didn’t see it coming. We took back our Bratva, our legacy.
Hell yes.
The fucker is here.
I see the fucking car pull into the warehouse parking lot and park in front of the door. I grab my binoculars and focus on the suka that gets out of the black SUV. He walks to the door, slides the key into the doorknob, and opens it. He disappears into the warehouse. I stare at the fucking warehouse door. I should go after the fucker and make him give me everything he knows about this fucking trap.
“Da.”
I set the binoculars down and move my hand around the center console, searching for my cell phone. Then I hear the SUV door slam close. I look up and see the lights turn red, and it reverses, turns, and pulls out of the parking lot.
“Nyet! Motherfucker can’t get away from me!”
This is fucking crazy. I should have brought my Soldiers, but I was only going to check out what the fuckers were doing on our turf.
I turn on my Audi, press on the gas, and follow the SUV. I follow him down the street, and then I get hit in the back by another SUV. The SUV behind me runs into me again, pushing me forward. I press on the gas, the car springs forward, and the SUV in front of me stops; the red lights flash as the Suka reverses. The fucker is backing up at a fast rate of speed, the fucker behind me runs into me again, and I turn the wheel to move to the side, but the impact pushes me off the road, and my wheels lose traction. My Audi flips over, and bullets are hitting my car. I pull out my gun from my holster, the airbag explodes, and I can’t shoot at them. The car continues to roll, and the glass explodes as the bullets hit the vehicle. I feel the pain in my arm and my side.
Fuck!
My car stopped rolling. Great, I’m upside down. The door is caved in, and I can’t open it. I need to get out before the fuckers come and finish me off.
Fuck me!
Then I hear more gunshots, there’s more of them, and I know that I’m fucked. I look for my cell phone to call my Brats but I can’t see it or move to search for it. I’m trapped inside without any hope. I can feel blood on my face, and my body hurts. The gunshots keep hitting my car. I can’t see the fuckers, but I can hear the gunshots and footsteps getting closer, and only a few bullets hit the Audi.
Fuckers must be stupid shots if they can’t hit me.
Motherfuckers.
I hear the footsteps come closer, and I look to see who the fucker is that set the trap.
Then I see the tall, skinny blonde man with a red beard and black eyes pointing his gun at me. His eyes are cold, dark, and emotionless, and he has an ashen, stoic face.
“Kravtsov, Magee never forgets,” the Blonde man growls.
I can see it in the blonde man's cold eyes; he’s going to kill me. I stare at the motherfucker, waiting for it.
Then, all of a sudden, his head explodes like a melon. I blink, looking around.
What the fuck!
