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Alexei remained where he was, easing his weapon into his hand. “What is the name of the man you’re working for?”
“I’m not working for anyone,” Mikhail insisted.
I took my time taking my weapon out of my pocket, not bothering with a silencer. There was no need given the noise on the site. “Do you know what happens to rats who betray us, Mikhail?”
“You’re crazy. I would never betray you.”
I shook my head, allowing him to hear a tsking sound. “A name. Now.”
At least his body started to shake, but his jaw was clenched. He was a hardcore Russian, determined to take what he knew to his grave. It didn’t really matter at this point. He was only a small cog in the wheel, taking his orders from Yuri, Alexei’s second in command. I could tell how much it pained my brother that one of his own, a man he’d claimed as his friend, could betray him. And for what? Money? He was paid well, like the rest of us. A higher position in the Irish mob. Doubtful.
Just like this fuck. His stupidity would cost him his life.
“Russkaya krysa khuzhe tarakana,” Alexei snarled.
A Russian rat is worse than a cockroach.
The statement was very true.
I took the last long stride toward him, pointing the barrel of my weapon directly in the center of his face.
Then I fired.
It always seemed to amaze me that it took a body several seconds to understand that the life had just been yanked out of it, sent straight to hell. As he started to fall, tumbling over the edge, I moved closer, only somewhat satisfied when his body was tossed into the wet cement. At least I’d have the satisfaction of knowing his dead body would be buried in the muck.
I wiped my face then turned toward Alexei. It was moments like this that could make a normal man question his profession.
But I wasn’t normal.
Without talking, we left the floor. The next item on the list would prove to be more… enjoyable.
Yuri’s position had allowed him to enjoy numerous luxuries in life, including a modest home near the water, a medium-sized watercraft tied to his massive dock.
Alexei kicked in the front door, moving with ease through the man’s house. He’d undoubtedly been here a number of times, saluting the accomplishments and planning for future business endeavors. While I’d had limited dealings with the man, he’d seemed honest and loyal to a fault.
Maybe that was the issue. He was too loyal.
“Yuri,” Alexei said, obviously surprising him.
“Alexei. What are you doing here?” He stood in shorts and a tee shirt. Perhaps this was his day off.
Alexei glanced around the room then outside, staring at the dock through the all-glass door. “Why don’t you show us your new boat? I think Kirill would enjoy seeing the watercraft.”
Yuri swallowed then glanced from one to the other, dropping his gaze then moving toward the set of doors. He said nothing as he led us to the dock, hesitating only when he was just outside the boat.
“What is this about, Alexei?”
“Betrayal. You’re working with Shane Dunnigan,” Alexei threw out. The Irishmen’s leader was young and aggressive. He’d grown up in the States, pretending that he’d been born in Ireland. He had a ruthless reputation, but up to this point, he’d never made any inroads into a single major territory. Maybe he was finally spreading his wings.
Time to clip them off.
Yuri didn’t need to answer. I could see terror creeping into his eyes. He turned, moving onto the boat. “Just don’t hurt my family.”
“They will be well taken care of. That I promise you,” Alexei stated.
The ride was pleasant, slightly chilly, but blood was pumping through my veins.
“Stop here,” Alexei directed.
