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I should have taken that into consideration. While I was always trying to be everything our father was not, Tolya had always been the one to try and emulate the best in him in exchange for some molecule of approval from the old bastard. He embraced the language, the culture, the food… everything that reminded Oleg of home.
It explains a good chunk of Oleg’s favoritism for Tolya.
And it definitely explains why Tolya risked his life to save Clara, some scared little kid he didn’t even know.
It’s what our people do.
Now, it’s fueling his fire as he speaks to both of us. “Right. So there’s that. And there’s another kid in trouble. You said the Yakuza are behind the shooting?”
We both nod. Again, I squeeze Clara’s hand. I don’t know how the reminder of Willow’s brush with death will be received until she simply laces her fingers with mine.
Tolya rubs his jaw. “Any survivors? From the Yakuza, I mean.”
“Only a couple, but they were arrested.”
“And will undoubtedly be sent to prison.”
The lightbulb in my head clicks on. “You’re thinking…”
Tolya’s face breaks into a wide grin. “They get sent here. Word spreads why they’re here. A lot of fathers with young children in these cells won’t take kindly to that.”
Clara’s eyes widen. “What are you going to do?”
Both of us cast a quick glance at the nearby guards, who are trained to pretend they’re completely ignoring us. Tolya chuckles. “Best leave that to the imagination.” He kicks his feet up on the chair next to him and makes himself comfortable. “It sounds like we’ve got quite a few ducks to get in line. Since I’m stuck in here with limited resources, I’ll give you what I know so you can find something to do with it.”
I wasn’t expecting this. Truth be told, I also wasn’t expecting him to shift gears so quickly even after listening to the recording.
Because, after all, he’s a Zakrevsky. Those men have a tendency to be stubborn dickheads.
I would know.
“Oleg’s got a full operation up and running here in the States. It’s huge. Business is good, from what he tells me, so you know what that means.”
I do. I’m not going to spell it out in front of the guards, but my nod suffices to convey that yes, I understand that Oleg is operating a human trafficking ring that’s thriving with plenty of customers and even more victims.
“I wondered. He dropped fifty million on a recent acquisition.”
Tolya’s jaw drops. “Fifty million? Shit. That’s fucking insane. I take it he’s not getting a refund.”
“More like… paying reparations.”
He chuckles grimly. “Good to know. Anyways, it’s not just here in the States where he’s working.”
“I did hear he’s got a whole base office back home.”
He nods. “So he did tell you. Yeah, and it’s huge. Bigger than what’s going on here, and way more… how do you say, ‘lucrative.’ But the key is, they’re interconnected. One does not operate or exist without the other.” His brows lift as if he’s trying to emphasize something. “You know?”
It takes me a hot second to catch on. But then… “So anyone…involved…in one ‘office’ is involved with the other?”
“Exactly.”
“Like… supplies. Resourcing.”
Kidnapping, coercion, blackmail… everything Greg has been doing to procure slaves for Raizo. I wish I had that on recording as well, but Clara assured me that a few of his past victims were still on the streets. Pay them enough, we’ll have testimonies.
The pieces are starting to come together.
“Bingo.” Tolya taps his finger on the table. “If you can prove a third ‘office’ connecting to the one here in the States? It’s a slam dunk in the courts.”
