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Pyotr’s smile grows. “I believe Silvia thought you might be interrupting to object.”
It amazes me that Pyotr’s wife would be so concerned about my happiness. Then again, it is also her best friend who her request would benefit. It touches me deeply that she would speak up for Dani and me.
“Thank you, pakhan, for the generous offer,” I say, pressing a palm to my chest to show the depth of my gratitude.
Pyotr gives a curt nod, appearing almost self-conscious as emotion fills the moment. He clears his throat and turns his attention back toward his gun. “Yes, well, just remember, you have to find a suitable replacement for your role before I let you take up your new position.”
“Of course,” I agree, turning back to my own gun. Still, my lips curl in silent satisfaction as I think about telling Dani what this means.
Laden with weapons and ammunition, we take the Land Rovers, driving the miles of open land between the Veles estate and Mikhail’s. It’s a considerable distance, but when it comes down to it, the two are not so far from each other, even though they’re mortal enemies.
But in Upstate New York, property lines stretch on for miles, acres of land belonging to a single family. And with so much untouched open space, we only cross a handful of unmarked boundary lines before reaching Mikhail’s estate.
We park there, at the edge, choosing to go by foot so as not to call attention to our presence. Once again, it’s Gleb and me flanking Pyotr as we stalk through the trees on silent feet. Val had adamantly insisted he be a part of the attack. But with his limp that doesn’t seem to be going away, he would be more of a hindrance than the protection he’s supposed to be.
No, it’s up to me and Gleb to ensure Pyotr survives today.
The woods are quiet, our feet muffled by a soft blanket of snow that fell sometime during the night. And as my breath fogs in front of me, I keep my gun at the ready, my eyes scanning the trees for any movement.
Soft early-morning sunlight casts a pink glow through the wooded space, beckoning the day. And I breathe deeply, daring to believe this is going to be the cherry on the cake—Mikhail’s death after a perfect night with Dani.
I don’t usually consider myself a vengeful person. But for Mikhail, I’m willing to make an exception.
Ahead, through the trees, a massive building comes into view. The gray-stone structure almost resembles a castle, its towering walls impenetrable with turrets that cap each corner like watch towers. It’s purely aesthetic, of course, with plenty of modern touches that blend the castle-like structure with a present-day mansion.
Still, it rival’s Pyotr’s estate when I thought no other lavish home could.
We pause at the edge of the tree line. Waiting for any sign of movement, any guards monitoring the perimeter of the home. All quiet on the front.
And in the eerie stillness, I am suddenly filled with an unsettling suspicion.
Yes, Mikhail was supposed to have come with only a few good men. But any pakhan of his caliber would have an armed guard on watch at all times. Something’s not right.
Gleb seems to agree, his sharp eyes flashing in my direction as his brows angle into a deep frown. Pyotr’s gaze shifts in my direction a moment later as he notes the silent exchange between me and Gleb.
Then, he pales as a burst of gunfire erupts somewhere off toward our left.
For a moment, I wonder if one of our men jumped the gun.
But the shouted astonishment that follows tells me otherwise.
We’re under attack.
As soon as I think it, men come flooding from the house, sniper rifles in hand. Like they were waiting for us from the start.
“It’s a trap,” Gleb snarls, crouching low behind a bush as I yank Pyotr below cover.
The rat-a-tat of AR rifles issue from our right, warning me that they’re coming at us from both directions. And in an instant, we’re in a firefight as Pyotr barks the command to attack. It’s our only option now if we want to make it out of this with our lives.
It’s a violent, bloody exchange, and though filled with horror, I leap into action, whirling to mow down several men who break through our ranks, heading straight for Pyotr. Beside me, my pakhan takes down Zhivoder men with a deadly accuracy that belies his fury.
It seems like Mikhail’s men knew we were coming. The information Pyotr received was meant to draw him into a vulnerable position. And now Veles men are being slaughtered like cattle, herded toward their violent end without mercy.
And if we’re not careful, we’re going to get pinned down.
Pyotr seems to recognize it at the same time I do. “Fall back!” he bellows.
And as he slips from cover to follow his own command, I stay with him, keeping my head on a swivel as I watch for potential threats. Any Zhivoder man that comes within view is subject to my wrath.
