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The three men glance at one another and then turn to me. I raise my hand to halt Pavel from saying too much.
I want to hear it from Gunsyn and Alexander.
“Why you and not us?” I ask, but no one is quick to tell me. “Alexander, you’re being unusually quiet right now.”
He inhales, biding a microsecond of time. “Ippolit knew our location and thought we were the better choice.”
I frown, unconvinced. “I’ve heard children tell better lies. You took Eden from my sister’s home, where she was safe, and drove her to a location not far from the one where her father was.” I shake my head to mock them. “Why? Does any of this make sense to you, Pavel?”
“Nyet, Nikolai Gennadyevich.” Pavel folds his arms across his chest and narrows his gaze on Gunsyn. “I think someone is lying to you.”
Gunsyn steps forward, his face turning red as he points his finger at Pavel. “You think you’re hot shit, boy? You are nothing but dog shit I wipe off my shoes.” He turns his anger toward me. “We lost a man today … a good man.” Gunsyn clenches his fists as he turns to me. “If only you’d let us fight this war without one hand tied behind our backs …”
“Ippolit went into this fight with both hands.” I shake my head. “It didn’t do him any good.”
“Nikolai Gennayevich …” Gunsyn’s gaze looks like it could kill, but he has no good retort. “We only wanted to help.”
“Then you should start by obeying my orders.” My gaze is savage as I pull my gun out of my holster. “Now tell me whatIwant to know. Or you can join Ippolit in the afterlife to bitch and moan about me.”
Gunsyn sighs. “371 Commercial Road B. She’s locked in the back office.”
I put the gun away. “Zakhar knows we have her, and that is enough. Understood?”
Gunsyn nods. “Yes, Nikolai Gennadyevich.”
I fold my arms over my chest, glaring at the three brigadiers. “What is the oath?”
They look at each other, bewildered, until I pull out my gun again and then the words fly from their mouths as if they cannot recite it fast enough. “You care for no one but the Bratva, and you shall love none other than the Bratva.”
“Precisely.” Appeased, I put my gun away. “The Bratva. Not yourselves.”
I spin on my heel and head toward the door with Pavel walking behind me. They could shoot me in the back, and judging from their snide expressions, they want to.
But they won’t.
Not yet, anyway.
57
NIKOLAI
In silence,Pavel drives us down a gutted road toward an almost identical concrete building enclosed by lush, tall weeds. I look at each utility pole lining the way and wonder which one Ippolit shot. It’s impossible to tell when the scenery looks the same. Instead of fighting over castles and mansions, we fight over these blighted industrial areas—an odd mixture of the sinister and the banal. The only thing I know for certain is that the brigadiers will continue to defy my authority.
The only thing that will change that is death.
“Ippolitwasa good man.” Pavel’s voice interrupts my own dark thoughts. “Damn good shot too.” Pavel looks at me in the mirror. “He taught me how to shoot. He didn’t have to, but he did.”
“And look where that got him.” I sigh.
“Stubborn bastard almost made it to old age,” Pavel scoffs. “What a waste.”
I’m surprised I have it in me to laugh. But the conversation stops when the SUV reaches a nondescript door. No signs of any kind, and I wonder if it’s a trap.
“Wait here,” I tell him, getting out of the vehicle. “And discourage any curious onlookers.”
Pavel nods and parks the car so he can see all vantage points clearly. The metal door opens without a key, and I enter a pitch-black hallway despite the invading daylight outside. My senses are in overdrive as I walk down a narrow corridor, and my footsteps echo with each step. My heart starts to pound in my ears, but I can’t tell what’s making me anxious. Am I worried about being ambushed or seeing Eden again?
The light from my phone illuminates a door at the end of the hallway with a sign that reads “Office.” Cautious, I open the door slowly with my gun at the ready.
