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He took his place at the head of the conference table they’d installed in the large room on the second floor. The old factory windows took up an entire wall, and sunlight streamed into the room, reflecting off the river below.
Alek stood, and Lyon was surprised to see the other men follow suit, rising to their feet one at a time.
“Let us be the first to congratulate you on your appointment as pakhan,” Alek said. “Our organization is in the best of hands, and I pledge my loyalty to your service from this day forward.”
Lyon was strangely moved. It wasn’t like Alek to say more than a few words at once.
“I pledge my loyalty as well,” Oleg said, round face beaming.
Lyon watched as each of the men made a loyalty oath in his name. When they were done, Alek spoke again. “To the Antonov bratva.Dolgo mozhet on tsarstvovat'.”
“Dolgo mozhet on tsarstvovat',” the men said in unison.
Long may it reign indeed, Lyon thought.
“Thank you,” Lyon said. The Spies must have announced his appointment. Word would have gotten out across the organization. “Your loyalty is appreciated, and from this day forward, expected. It is loyalty that will be richly rewarded.” He gestured to the seats around the table. “Now please sit.”
Lyon waited for them to take their seats before he took his own.
“It’s true that I’ve been appointed pakhan. However, we have some loose ends to address.”
He explained the necessity of eliminating Musa without reference to the Spies. Any hint that the Spies were pulling the strings would make Lyon look weak. They’d held the power when he was fighting for the bratva crown.
Now that power was his.
Eliminating Musa had to be done, not because the Spies had ordered it but because they were right: until Lyon made an example of his former rival, the men would not respect him.
And a leader who wasn’t respected was forever in jeopardy.
“How do we find him?” Stefan asked. He was the youngest of the men, earnest and anxious to make a name for himself. Lyon felt unaccountably protective of him.
Lyon’s answer was simple. “We don’t.”
Confusion colored Stefan’s angular face.
“You think he’ll come to you,” Alek said.
Lyon nodded.
Rupert shook his head, and a lock of lank brown hair fell over his forehead. “Surely, he’ll run. He’s probably already long gone.”
“No,” Lyon said. “He’s gone to ground, but now that the Spies have announced my appointment, he’ll seek to avenge his honor.”
Musa Shapiev saw himself as a patriot, his cause the elevation of the Chechens, who had been kept on the outside of Russia’s criminal gangs. He was dangerous because he was a true believer. If anything, he would see his banishment as proof that his people were marginalized in the bratva.
The men didn’t look convinced, but Lyon was the boss now. Arguing the point wasn’t an option.
“I fear Musa may not be our only immediate challenge,” Borya said.
“I would expect nothing less,” Lyon said. He’d spent decades fighting for the prize of leadership. He didn’t expect that fight would suddenly end, and in fact, he was quite sure it would become even more difficult in the short term. “Tell me.”
“There are rumblings among the men,” Borya said. “Vas and Lev are… less than enthusiastic about your appointment.”
In light of Kira’s abandonment, Lyon wasn’t eager to credit her for anything, but he couldn’t deny her wisdom in working with Borya’s sister Annie to bring Borya to Lyon’s side. The other man was deceptively quiet, but Lyon had learned that a shrewd intellect lurked behind his dark eyes.
He would be an asset to the Spies, a promised appointment Lyon would honor as soon as he dispensed with the immediate threats to his leadership.
“Not entirely unexpected,” Lyon said. Lev Dubrow and Vas Malkin had always been a concern, although Lyon wasn’t too worried about Lev. His agenda was power, but he was motivated by insecurity.
