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He shook his head. “Absolutely fucking not. It’s dangerous.”
“So what? I’m not scared. I have you,” she insisted. “I can help!”
“No, you can’t, Annika. You would only slow me down, and I won’t risk your life again. Not after what happened in the desert,” he told her with finality.
Annika sank back in her seat. “How long will it be?”
“As long as it takes. Probably not long,” Mikhail said, preparing himself to go inside.
“And you want me to just… sit here?” she sighed glumly.
“Yes. That’s exactly what you have to do. Sit tight. Keep the doors locked. Don’t look at anyone, don’t speak to anyone. The world outside this car doesn’t exist, got it?” he commanded.
Annika hesitantly nodded. “Fine. But Mikhail, be careful. Come back to me, okay?”
She reached across to touch his face. It was such a tender, gentle gesture that Mikhail felt a sting of remorse at the thought of leaving her here, even temporarily. But he quickly shrugged away and regained his edge. He stepped out of the car and leaned down to give her one last parting statement.
“Stay put. Give me something to come back to,” he said softly.
With that, he locked up the car and strode confidently down the block to theShootingStar, forcing himself not to look back. He quickly liaised with the door guy, who was a Sokolov plant, as well. The security man gave him a reverent nod, automatically knowing who he was.
“How bad is it?” Mikhail asked.
“Gold has him sequestered upstairs. The main floor guests are starting to catch on.”
“Do your best to dispel any suspicion. Get them out of here if you can,” he ordered.
“Da, sir. Good luck to you, sir.”
Mikhail stepped onto the main floor of the casino and was instantly bombarded with the sounds of slot machines, jazzy music, laughter, chatter, and rolling dice. The casino was busy at noon on a Sunday. Mikhail was relieved to see that most of the patrons were oblivious to the drama unfolding upstairs. They tottered around with their overpriced mixed drinks, not even slightly bothered by Mikhail’s arrival.
But others, he saw, looked worried. They whispered among themselves, often glancing back at the staircase leading up to the VIP floor. Mikhail made his way through the crowd and straight up the staircase, keeping his hand on his gun under his coat without anyone noticing. He approached the gilded double doors to the VIP floor and silently pressed his ear to them, listening closely to the ruckus inside.
“I’m tellin’ you, Gold, I just can’t live like this anymore! These assholes make us put everything on the line, and for what? A little extra cash and protection?”
Mikhail heard Officer Gold speak next, and he was surprised to find that his voice was just on the other side of the double doors. He was waiting to let Mikhail in.
“Calm down, Faraday. It’s not that bad, alright? We got a pretty sweet gig here. Let’s not do anything rash,” Gold suggested.
“Don’t tell me what not to do! You’re just as bad as them, bossin’ me around and shit.”
“I know you’re upset. But it’s not these ladies’ fault.”
Mikhail’s anger grew. It was bad enough to disrupt normal casino operations, but endangering innocent civilian women in his little temper tantrum? That was unacceptable.
Mikhail tapped ever so gently on the door, just enough for Officer Gold to hear. He opened the door in tiny, agonizingly slow increments while trying to keep his rogue partner from doing anything crazy. Mikhail gradually began entering the room, stooping to try and hide his enormous muscular frame behind the smaller Officer Gold.
He saw Officer Faraday just feet away, pacing back and forth in front of a terrified couple of women in cocktail dresses. The crooked cop had his gun out, and was holding it at an almost reckless angle as he paced and ranted aloud. He was sweaty and beet-red, clearly in the midst of some psychological meltdown. That made him even more unpredictable. Mikhail had hoped for the element of surprise, but now he was concerned that a surprise might freak out Faraday and cause him to hurt one of the girls. Faraday was a low-ranking made man, relatively new to the organization, and relegated to the Reno area. He had never met Mikhail in person, and Mikhail hoped he wouldn’t recognize him instantly. His best hope was to play it off like a civilian until he could get close enough to take Faraday down.
But the very second Mikhail stepped out from behind Officer Gold, the stressed-out cop looked right at him. He didn’t seem to recognize Mikhail, but he definitely clocked the tall, powerful, imposing Mikhail as a threat. He raised his gun and pointed it right at him from across the room, his eyes bugging out with paranoia.
“Wha—who are you? How did you get in here?” he demanded.
“He’s just a VIP here for the day, brother,” Gold lied.
“Why’d you let him in? This is a private fucking event, okay?” Faraday shouted, waving the gun.
“Whoa, let’s all just calm down,” Mikhail said.
