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Marlon was taken by us in the first place because he was involved in robbing one of our warehouses and killing some of our men. It later came out that his father had worked for the O’Neills in Ireland and been executed as a traitor along with his eldest son. The younger boy, Marlon, had been taken back to Leningrad by his mother, who was Russian. Some of this is starting to fit together, though why his widow, if that is who Kira Semyonov really is, would be making a nuisance of herself with us is not quite so clear. Surely her quarrel would be with Jed.
Ethan levels his gaze at his brother-in-law. “That’s our best link right now. Were any of your soldiers closer to him? Would anyone know anything about the wife?”
“It’s possible. I’ll get on it.”
Ethan turns to regard Tony. “What were your impressions?”
“I received the alarm call on my phone. I was in Glasgow but already on my way home. I put my foot down and got back as quick as I could. Rome was with me. We came across the getaway vehicles in the driveway and eliminated them, along with both drivers. When we came through the house we killed four more intruders, but that was it. Twelve in total, all now dead. Our casualties were light.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“I went down to the cells. Rome was behind me. There were four bodies in the corridor, none of them ours. I checked each cell until I got to the one occupied by Marlon. Our prisoner was dead, and so was the remaining intruder. The girl was standing just inside the doorway with a gun she must have taken from one of the Russian bodies. She seemed to have it in her head that she was arresting Jack and Moses.”
A brief grin flickers around the table.
“Obviously, that didn’t last long. I took the gun from her.”
“Why didn’t you simply shoot her?” Ethan leans back, one eyebrow raised.
“Jack didn’t want her killed. And it wasn’t necessary. I didn’t think she was one of them, and she was no threat to us.”
Ethan Savage is as ruthless as any other gang leader but has never been a fan of indiscriminate violence, especially against women. He appears to accept the explanation offered.
“Anyone else got anything to add?” He sweeps his gaze round the room.
Rome raises his hand.
“Go on,” Ethan tells him.
“Well, it’s just an impression, boss, but twelve doesn’t seem a lot of men, not for an operation like this.”
He’s right. Several of us nod our agreement.
“And they had no idea what they were doing,” I add. “It was tantamount to a suicide mission.”
Ethan scratches his chin. “Inexperienced. Badly trained. No real leadership. What were they thinking?”
“What was their don thinking?” Moses asks. “Throwing away soldiers like that.”
“Donna,” Cristina murmurs. “Assuming the widow is their leader, she’d be a donna, not a don.”
“Fair enough,” her husband replies. “Is that significant?”
“Maybe not,” Cristina replies. “But it does seem to me that if the mission was to rescue her son, she’d throw all she had at it. I know I would.”
Ethan regards her thoughtfully. “And now, her mission failed. She lost all her soldiers, and her son, too. She’ll be mad as hell, and desperate.”
“If you’re right, now’s the time she might show herself.” Casey sits up and reaches for the ubiquitous can of cola she’s rarely seen without. “Jack? What happened to the bodies?”
“We got in cleaners,” I reply. “They were disposed of.”
“What if we offer her the body of her son,” Casey continues. “She’d want that, surely. To give him a decent funeral.”
“We don’t have it. It’s probably already floated down the Clyde and out to sea.”
“But she won’t know that. We could smoke her out. Offer a trade.”
“What trade?” Ethan’s gaze is sharp, already sifting through possibilities.
