Page 5 of Warlord’s Empire

“Jozef says fuck the other people. Run as fast as you can and zigzag if they start shooting.”

Of course Jozef would say that. Innocents were pawns in the game of mafia and Jozef was a boss. Saskia was different though, her heart wasn’t mafia. She gave a shit about harming others.

She frantically searched for an escape route that wasn’t the front doors. A handful of people were milling around and music and laughter filtered from the restaurant bar.

The kitchen! There would be a back way out of the hotel through the kitchen.

It was closer than the lobby entrance anyway. She might be able to make it.

She earned a few curious glances as she raced toward the restaurant. Don’t look back, she told herself when she heard the bang of the door she had just come through.

She didn’t know if the bad guys saw her and decided it didn’t matter. She had to keep moving. She hurtled into the restaurant, avoiding tables as she ran full tilt past gawking customers.

“You can’t go back there!” someone called after her as she skirted the bar and ran through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

“Are you lost?” a person in a chef’s hat asked.

“Yeah.” She gasped for breath. “Bad date. Leaving now. Where’s the back exit?”

A server carrying a tray with three bowls of steaming soup nodded toward the back of the kitchen.

“Thanks!” Saskia sidestepped her, avoiding the full tray and took off again.

When she reached the door, she flung it open, nearly falling into the loading area behind the hotel.

“Damn!”

There was a shiny white van parked not far from the door, a guy standing next to it smoking a cigarette. He gave off the same vibe as the two guys from her room. Threatening and dangerous. Also, he was big, muscly, scarred and subjectively ugly.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this one was friendly. Maybe Jozef sent him.

When he spotted her, he looked surprised, then pissed off. He dropped his cigarette and stalked toward her. Nope, she would bet her cushy salary he wasn’t coming over for a friendly chat.

She stepped back through the door, slamming it shut and facing the kitchen. All of the staff were watching her, confused expressions on their faces. Their heads swiveled toward shouting and banging coming from the restaurant. A few heads swiveled back to her. Then back again at the commotion out front, which was getting closer and closer to the kitchen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She snatched up a knife from a pile of dirty dishes and crouched down next to a metal shelf.

Havel’s bellow distantly vibrated out of Saskia’s phone. “What the fuck is happening!?”

She looked at it, tucked in the palm of her hand. How the hell had she managed to hang on to it? She lifted it to her ear. “I have to go,” she whispered, examining the knife. It was crusted with something food related – maybe fish fingers or sardine puttanesca. She wasn’t great at combat, but maybe if she cut them, she could give them salmonella.

“Don’t hang up,” Havel commanded.

She hung up.

Chapter Three

The thugs had just entered the kitchen. Saskia could tell because they were banging around, knocking things over and swearing loudly. She squeezed herself even tighter against the metal rack as a pot banged against the wall over her head. She was a sitting duck if they looked around the corner, which of course they eventually would.

She frantically searched for an escape, catching the eyes of the server who had helped her the first time. The poor woman was stiff, her face petrified as she clutched the tray with the soup, but when she noticed Saskia looking at her, she jerked her head.

Saskia looked to where she was nodding and noticed another door. It had the Afrikaans word for storage on it.

She scrambled on all fours toward it as the sound of smashing dishes followed her.

“Where is she?” One of the thugs bellowed in Russian.

Russian? Why were the Russians after her? It was suicide to go after the family of someone as high up in the Bratva as Jozef. Maybe these guys weren’t affiliated with the Bratva? Or maybe they didn’t know who she was. Regardless, she wasn’t sticking around to find out.