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“Blyat,” Vadim scoffs. “Do you know how paranoid you sound?”
I don’t acknowledge Vadim’s response and continue letting him know how the situation looks to me.
“When the empire he’s always wanted is finally built, he can erase you from the equation. Give the power you risked your life for to his sons.”
The rest of the men in the room are all watching me, and I can tell I’m not the only person my theory makes sense to. Kalash is resting his chin in his hand, tapping his forefinger against his lips and subtly nodding his head. Eugeny leans against the glass wall, switching back and forth between me and the monitor with the security footage paused. No one is voicing support for my theory, but they’re not rejecting it, either.
It doesn’t matter though. Vadim is the person who needs to believe it.
Eugeny chimes in with his thoughts. “There aren’t many people with enough power to alter records with the Land Registry. This would need to be done by someone very high level. Elder level.”
Vadim dismisses our arguments. “The real people behind this want me to think it was Boris. They want us to tear ourselves apart from the inside.” He pulls his phone out and starts dialing, raising the volume on his speakerphone until we all hear the dial tones.
“Vadim?” the voice on the other line answers.
“Da,” Vadim responds. He looks at all of us as he brings Boris Stepanov up to speed on what happened. The weapons in the warehouse being emptied, ownership of the warehouse being transferred, and the name of the company it was transferred to.
Boris remains quiet as Vadim speaks and waits until he’s finished.
“Vadim, I was hoping I could tell you about this before I did it, but I had no time,” he says. “Someone informed me that the warehouse is under investigation, so I cleaned it out and moved ownership to my son, Bruno.”
My head snaps in the phone's direction. I wasn’t expecting Boris Stepanov to admit to this, but it sounds like he’s prepared with an explanation for it.
“We’re spreading the ownership paper trail over several countries to slow down the authorities, but that’s all it’ll do. We need to come up with a permanent solution,” Boris adds.
I shake my head in disbelief. There’s no reason Boris couldn’t have told Vadim right away.
“Come to my restaurant in St. Petersburg,” Boris says in an upbeat voice. “Bring the men, too. We need to discuss our next steps.”
Vadim pauses, looking at his phone for a moment before he answers. “Da. We’ll be there.” He hangs up and gives me a contemptible glare.
“It’s bullshit,” I tell Vadim.
Vadim sighs and turns to the rest of the men. “I’m satisfied with the explanation Boris Stepanov gave me,” he announces. “But I’ll ask for details when we meet with him and his men.” He turns to me. “If you’re not convinced, then you can come with and get the answers for yourself.” He glances up at me and quickly turns away.
I get the sense Vadim isn’t as convinced as he’s trying to portray.
“Add me in… brother,” I yell as he walks away.
No matter what happens when we meet Boris and his men, Vadim won’t be facing it alone.
I walk out of the office and hear footsteps behind me. When I turn, I see Bodhan speeding to catch up to me.
“What you said back there, about Boris Stepanov,” Bodhan says, “I think it’s possible. He seems like a man that no one should turn their back on.”
I nod back and continue walking towards the foyer. Bodhan keeps up with me as if he still has more to say.
“Vadim cares about Boris,” he says between breaths. I’m a good deal taller than Bodhan and walk fast, but he pushes himself to keep up with me. “Perfectly understandable,” he says with a chuckle. “The man raised him.”
We reach the foyer and I turn to Bodhan. He stops with me, making it clear he has more to say. “Vadim’s judgment might be clouded, but that’s only because of the loyalty he has to Boris. It’s good you’re here to balance that with some objectivity.”
“Vadim and I have our differences, but we’ll work them out,” I say, hoping what I say is true.
Bodhan smiles and nods his head. “That’s good to hear. He may not admit it, but he needs his brother close. Leading an organization this large isn’t easy. I imagine there are times he feels alone, despite all the men around him.”
He heads towards the front door but turns back to me and smiles. “Besides, you seem like the forgiving type,” he calls to me as he stands by the front door.
Something about the way Bodhan says that makes me curious. I follow him outside, shielding my eyes against the harsh winter wind. He’s walking towards a lime green sports car. I recognize it as the Marussia B2, a car out of production but still highly desired by the flashier criminal types.
