Page 11 of The Bratva’s Captive Flame

Why do I want that man so fucking badly?

8

DEMIN

The blueprints are spread across my desk again, but this time there's nothing tentative about them. Every line is final. Mishka stands at my right with the team roster, and Bart leans over the far corner of the desk with his thick finger tracing the route from the water-side door to the lab. The three of us have gone over this enough times now that we could walk it blind.

"Two vehicles through the front, one held back on the road," I say, tapping the gate. "Mishka takes the first team to the lab and strips it. Equipment, notes, anything written down. Bart, you're with me for the old man."

"And if the bald one's on him?" Bart asks.

"Then the bald one stops being a problem," I tell him, not mincing my words. Nothing stands between me and my chemist at this point. With Isabela along for the ride, Octavio will do exactly as we say. He may not respond to threats against his own life, but when he sees his precious hija is mine, he'll listen.

We've got eleven going in and three staying with the vehicles, and every one of them has done this work before. There's no green man on this team. We can't afford fuckups on an operation this intense. Solano's compound is no joke. Just looking at the prints suggests a tighter operation than Isabela told me about, so we have to be prepared for the worst.

"Vehicles are loaded with everything but us," Mishka says, straightening up. "Vests, rifles, the cutting tools for the lab. We're wheels-up in two hours."

"Good." I square the papers into a stack and slide them into the folder. "Fuel them now, not later. We need to make the airport on time… And the SUVs there will be prepped and ready?"

He nods, saying, "Armored Humvees, just like you requested."

Bart pushes off the desk and heads for the door with Mishka following him out. I'm just reaching for my coffee when the phone on the desk lights up with Sebastian's line out of Moscow. I take a breath before I answer it and brace myself for being grilled. I know he is counting on me, and this is one of the biggest assignments to date that I’ve been given. I don't want to let him down.

"Tell me you're ready," he says, skipping the greeting. He sounds focused and on edge, like usual. My uncle doesn't take risks like this unless they're guaranteed payoff, which this isn't. A million things could go wrong here, but in my opinion, the risk is worth the reward if we're successful.

"We're ready, Boss. The plan's clean and the men are solid." I lean back in the chair and turn it toward the window. "We'll get the old man…"

"The notes are as important as the man, Demin." Sebastian has been growing this family for years now. He better than anyone knows what's at stake. If Octavio takes a bullet, we've done all of this for nothing, pissing off Solano in the process and starting a real war, not this delayed shipments shit. But if we at least get the formula, we have a chemist here who can figure it out.

"I understand. The notes come with him." Though I'm not planning to fail. As much as I hate to admit it, that woman has gotten under my skin. She's a handful now, but I can only imagine the nightmare I'll have on my hands if the old man dies during this raid.

"And you've confirmed it's Octavio?" We've heard things about him, and we've been selling his drugs for months. It's good product—maybe the best.

"Yeah, Boss," I tell him. "We know where he sleeps and we know how they move him. There won't be any guessing once we're inside."

Sebastian sighs and I hear his chair squeak. "Okay, good… I want production up and running in under two weeks. Can you make that happen?" Two weeks is very optimistic, given we have to build a whole lab around this new guy. I may have to pull men off other assignments, but I won't fail.

"I can make that happen."

"You know he's not going to be eager to work for us."

"He won't have to be eager," I say, and I turn the chair back toward the desk. "We're taking the girl and she promises to convince him." I'm not entirely sold about this, but I know how bad she wants him out. After we have him, I can encourage him to work. I won't need her. I just need him to not fight us and make the difficult task impossible.

There's a low sound of approval. "You always did know how to find the soft spot in a thing," Sebastian says. "Get it done. Call me when you're across."

He ends the call without waiting for an answer, and I set the phone down. Then I press the intercom on my land line and tell the guard outside Isabela's room to bring her to the armory. If she's going to stand in the middle of a firefight tonight, she needs to be safe doing it.

I stalk down the stairs to meet them. By the time I come down the stairs, two of my men have her looking at the rifles. She turns when she hears me, and her eyes gloss over with attraction the way they did the last time I saw her. She looks curious, but there's no way I'm putting a weapon in her hands.

"If you're coming with us tonight," I tell her, crossing to the rack of vests, "you're going to wear one of these, and you're going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. We're not going to have any problems." I pull a vest from the rack and hold it up against her to judge the size, then trade it for a smaller one. "Arms up."

She lifts them, wincing only a little now. The bruises are really diminishing, though the ugly yellow color is still very visible. When I fit the vest over her head and start cinching the straps at her sides, she's stiff, but she doesn't pull away.

"You stay behind me the entire time. Not beside me, behind me. When I move, you move, and when I stop, you stop. And if I tell you to get on the ground, you're on the ground before I finish the word." I pull the strap tight and she winces. "The Cartel isn't going to see a frightened girl when they look at you tonight. They're going to see a target, and they will shoot to kill. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"I understand." Her voice is defiant, but at least she's listening to me. "I'm not stupid, Mr. Roshin."

"No, you're not." I finish the last strap and step back to look at the fit. It sits right on her, snug across the chest and tight at the sides. "Which is why I'm trusting you to keep yourself alive down there. I'm not bringing you because I enjoy your company. You're there as a tool, nothing else."