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“No, but…”
“But what?” Vladimir asks harshly.
Oleg clears his throat. “When did this happen?”
“Not that long ago,” Vladimir says. “I asked you to come the minute I found out. But that’s not all. Volkov is having your house watched as we speak. He probably had a man on your tail in California too.”
“What?” Oleg’s voice turns shrill. “How did he find out?”
“Who knows?” Vladimir shrugs. “What matters is why he came back to St. Petersburg.”
Oleg’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Why’s that?”
“To start a war. We have to prepare. We need to get our men ready.”
“Mudak.” Oleg drags a hand over his balding, liver-spotted head. “When do you think he’ll attack?”
Vladimir doesn’t miss the slight shaking of Oleg’s hand. “Today. My informants tell me his men are arming up. You have to call your most trusted men here for a meeting. There’s no time to waste.”
“What about Bes? I need to tell him about Volkov’s plans.”
“Bes is wasting time going after the woman. He didn’t get the job right the first time. And not the second time either, for that matter. It’s up to us now.”
Vladimir can almost see the gears turning in Oleg’s head. He thinks Vladimir doesn’t know that he’s a traitor. He thinks Bes wants to fuck them both over, but he can’t tell Vladimir that without admitting his betrayal. He thinks like Vladimir expects him to, and when he opens his mouth, he utters the words Vladimir predicted.
“We have to deal with Bes. He insults us. It’s not good for our reputation.”
Inwardly, Vladimir grins. “In good time. Our priority is Volkov. If we don’t act fast, we’ll both be dead tonight.”
Sweat beads on Oleg’s forehead. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at his brow. “How much do you think Volkov knows?”
Vladimir puts on a grave expression. “It’s hard to say.”
“How did he find out?” Oleg asks again, blinking a couple of times. “Only you and I know the truth. That means the traitor is Bes.” He mans up, saying with bravado, “That’s double the reason to kill that no-good assassin now.” As he says this, Oleg almost looks relieved. In his mind, killing the assassin will take care of all his problems. Little does he know.
“We need to destroy all the evidence that can point a finger at us,” Vladimir says. “I got rid of everything on my side the same day Volkov escaped from foster care.” Of course, he did nothing of the kind. Just like Oleg, he kept the evidence locked in his safe as insurance for the day he needed something to blackmail Oleg with. The only one who knows Vladimir never burned the evidence is himself. “Do you have anything that’ll incriminate us?”
“No,” Oleg says, averting his eyes briefly before meeting Vladimir’s gaze again.
Vladimir smiles. Oleg has just given him a valid reason to off him. No one in the bratva will blame him for executing a traitor.
“Call your men.” Vladimir checks his watch for dramatic effect. “We need to ambush Volkov before he makes it out of his house. If he catches us here, we’re fucked.”
Oleg clutches the armrests of his chair. “Between your men and mine, he’ll be outnumbered.”
“He’s got Turgenev on his side, remember?”
“Mudak,” Oleg says, now sweating so profusely that dark patches stain his shirt around his armpits.
Pushing to his feet, Oleg takes his phone from his pocket and dials his second-in-command with a swift instruction to bring the highest-ranking men in his organization to Vladimir’s stronghold of a house. Fast.
“Let’s drink to our victory,” Vladimir says when Oleg ends the call, producing a bottle of vodka.
Oleg looks aghast. “You know it’s bad luck to drink before the deal is done.”
“Come on,” Vladimir says with a mocking smile. “We have to behave like victors, not losers. Besides, we’ll catch Volkov by surprise. He won’t expect us to storm his house. He’ll expect us to hide in our fortresses where we’re best protected.”
Oleg wets his lips. Hesitantly, he takes the glass Vladimir offers.
They drink a toast, and then another. Oleg’s men arrive just as they finish the third. The five men who rank highest in his organization are his cousins, an uncle, and a nephew.
Vladimir gets to his feet with effort, his joints groaning under his weight. His words are loaded. He chooses the right expression to go with them, enjoying the little drama he’s putting on. “Let’s go talk where it’s safe.”
The men nod in unison. Vladimir sweeps his study daily for bugs, but the opposition and the clean players in the police force always find new ways. Their latest favorites are drones.
Vladimir leads the way. His men wait outside the door to his study. They let Oleg and his men pass, discreetly covering Vladimir’s back before following the entourage to the basement.
Like the study, the basement is soundproof, but for a different reason.
