“I’ve left orders,” Tarasov says. “If I die, my obshchak will release the files.”
“You made that threat before,” I remind him. He did, the day I let him past the gate. The day he forced Cole to start handing over Da’s records.
Tarasov ignores me. “Every financial paper in the world will get it,” he says to Cole. “The complete indictment. Unredacted.”
“Cole?” I ask. “What’s he talking about?”
For a moment, I think he won’t answer. When he does speak, his voice vibrates with hate. “He’s been blackmailing me. One hundred million dollars last month. One twenty is due today.”
“Get me out of here, Wolf. We’ll call it even.”
A muscle twitches in Cole’s jaw.
“Give me a phone. I’ll call my obshchak now.”
Cole closes his eyes, every muscle taut in his body.
“Help me. And you can help yourself.”
When Cole finally does speak, the words sound like they’re being pulled from his guts. “The indictment. How did you find it?”
Tarasov is so eager to answer that he spits. “Your sister. After your wedding, when she was playing me for restaurant meals and fake diamond earrings. She keeps a box under her bed—birthday cards from when she was a kid, a torn up stuffed cat, and a diary. Pink leather. A lock you can pick with a paper clip. She wrote about you taking the fall for your mother. How you went to juvenile detention. I hacked my way into those records on my own.”
Cole catches his breath when Tarasov mentions Megan, but when he finds out his sister didn’t betray him, he exhales, long and slow. “And my client list?” he asks. “You couldn’t hack my network.”
Tarasov nods, happy to agree, desperate to continue the conversation. “I couldn’t. You’re right. But I bought the information from one of your employees.”
“Who?”
Tarasov shivers like an overexcited puppy. “Tyler Orbach.”
Cole’s jaw tightens. He’s through with questions.
Tarasov senses the shift. “You shouldn’t feel too bad,” he says, too quickly. “It took a hundred grand before he gave you up. I’ll sign that money over to you right now. Everything you paid last month too.I’llpayyoufor this month. Just give me access to a computer.”
Cole exhales slowly. He meets my gaze and nods without saying a word.
Tarasov screams, “Don’t let her do this! My obshchak will release everything if I die!”
Cole turns to face the wall.
His silence is the most valuable gift he’s ever given me. I resolve to make the very most of it.
I say to Tarasov, “He’s made his decision, gobshite. Now it’s your turn, you blackmailing, bratva-scheming, child-raping son of a bitch. Last choice.”
Every one of my words unstrings something in his body. By the time I get tochoice, the expression on Tarasov’s face is something close to relief.
“Bullet?” I ask, showing him the gun. “Or bollocks?” I open the case and show him a row of gleaming scalpels.
Tarasov goes so still I can hear Cole breathing toward the wall. “Go to hell,” he finally says.
“I promise you, I’m an expert with a scalpel.”
“Go tofuckinghell.”
“Last time, I admit, I cut too deep. But I watched what the doctor did when he sewed me up.” I show him the needle and thread. “I can save you before you lose too much blood.”
“Goddamn you to motherfucking hell!”
