AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We have to make this quick,” Boris says, not that I need a reminder. “The police will be here soon.”
I wave him off dismissively. “I know. Just give me a second to think.”
The clock is ticking.
How Levitsky found out about this place is beyond me. It’s one of our smaller projects, barely brings in a noticeable profit. Mikhail and I only bother with the place to secure the outer edge of our operating territory within Moscow. That’s really the only strategic value it offers. If anything, itcostsus money to keep it up and running.
Could Levitsky be attacking other Bratva businesses completely at random? A sort ofsee-them-scrambleapproach? It certainly seems like it. For this very reason, Mikhail and the other family heads are having so much trouble pinning the bastard down. Everything he does seems to be at random. There’s no rhyme or reason to his attacks. His men show up, wreak havoc, and are promptly gone like the wind.
I step over a corpse and take in the damage. The firefight reportedly happened sometime around four in the morning. No witnesses, probably by design. Empty shell cases litter the floor. Glass is everywhere.
“What a fucking mess,” I grumble under my breath.
I’m about to venture further into the room when I hear a cough. Someone in here isalive.
It doesn’t take me long to find him. The man lies on his back on the ruined tile floor, blood staining the side of his face and his clothes. The only reason I don’t rush in to help is because of the snake and dagger tattoo.
His eyes struggle to open, eyelids too heavy. The man’s breaths come in painful sputters and wheezes.
I kick him in the ribs. “Where’s Levitsky?”
He’s disoriented, babbling nonsense. “Who—” Blindly, the thug reaches out for me. He manages to grasp the hem of my pant leg, but I shake him off.
“I’m going to ask one more time,” I hiss. “Where the fuck is Levitsky?”
“The woman, she—”
He’s not making any sense. When I spot a strange metal protrusion sticking out of the side of his neck do I understand why. Slowly, I crouch down beside him to get a better look. Is that… a dart? I pull it out of the side of his neck and inspect it curiously.
The metal is cold against my fingers. Its design is sleek and professionally made, but the identification markings etched into the side tell me this mass produced. Probably from a store that sells hunting gear. Darts are a hell of a lot easier to get your hands on than bullets, something you can buy over the counter, no questions asked.
“What is it, sir?” Boris asks me.
“A tranquilizer,” I realize aloud. I frown in confusion. Who the hell came here with a tranquilizer gun?
I inspect the other downed Levitsky men. There’s a story here, a chain of events I can’t put in order. Most of them suffered fatal bullet wounds courtesy of the Antonovs, but it seems there was a third party involved.
A third party that is no longer here.
The gears in my head turn. There’s another player involved in the game, one that either doesn’t have the resources to purchase an actual gun, or…
Or abhors violence?
Hm.
I snap my fingers. “Boris.”
“Yes, sir,” he says, already moving to carry out my command. He produces a pair of thick black zip ties and binds the bumbling Levitsky mercenary’s hands.
“Throw him in the trunk,” I say. “We’ll get answers out of him yet.”
“Where are we going to take him? Back to the house?”
“No, not the house. I’m not exposing Simon like that ever again.”
“Then where?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, breathing deeply. “The Pit,” I answer.
