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They needed to move fast.
It was dark but the night was clear, a crescent moon giving off just enough light to make the whole thing workable. They all wore black, practiced in the art of being unseen, but Roman’s eyes gradually adjusted until he could clearly make out the features of the men around him.
“It’s cold as fuck,” Pavel said, putting on one of the flack jackets and blowing into his hands.
Lyon Antonov barked out a laugh as he tightened his own flack jacket. “Come visit us in Chicago.”
He didn’t seem bothered by the cold, and the two men he’d brought with him — a giant of a man named Markus with dark hair and eyes, and Rurik, the older man who’d stayed with Ruby in the car outside the New Orleans motel — seemed similarly nonplussed.
“Once we get moving it won’t matter,” Roman said. Now that they were here, he was amped, primed to finish the war with his father once and for all. He checked the magazine on his handgun and holstered it, then hooked two grenades and a canister of tear gas to his belt. “And remember: Igor is mine.”
“We’ll have our hands full dealing with the guards anyway,” Mat said.
“Any idea how many?” Lyon asked, checking his weapon. He was a large man, as tall as Roman and just as muscular, although slightly more lean. His dark hair was short and his unusual eyes almost seemed to glow amber in the dark, making his nickname — the Lion — seem apt.
He was a formidable man and Roman was glad to have him on his side.
“I saw four,” Pavel said, puffs of white air emerging from his mouth as he spoke. “Dima on the porch, one of the associates walking the front, two more in the back.”
Lyon looked around at the men gathered in the clearing. “Without Roman, that puts us five on four. It almost seems like overkill.”
“Better too much force than not enough,” Mat said.
Roman couldn’t agree more. What was the saying? If you come for the king you better not miss?
Roman didn’t intend to miss.
“We’ll approach from the west,” Roman said. “Fan out. Lyon, Rurik, and Markus can take the front of the house.” Roman was most worried about Dima, who’d been part of Igor’s personal security detail for years, and all the unknowns that awaited him inside the house. He would stack the deck in their favor by pitting Lyon and his two men against Dima and the guard in the front. “Mat and Pavel, you’re with me. We’ll need to take out the two guards in back and I’ll need cover while I breach the house.”
“You got it boss,” Pavel said.
Pavel had been green when Roman had first recruited him but the younger man was learning fast, the experience he’d gained during the intense months of the war with Igor — to say nothing of Russia’s involvement — accelerating his learning curve.
Roman trusted him, and that was saying a lot.
Together with Mat, who’d been with the New York cell since he was twenty, Roman felt confident he could make it into the house, find his father.
And he needed the cover. The doctor’s warnings echoed in his ears: he’d had two close calls. He couldn’t afford another.
He’d made adjustments to his will weeks ago, just in case, leaving almost everything to Ruby except for a small show of gratitude for Max, who wouldn’t want it anyway.
It gave Roman a surprising amount of peace, one he didn’t expect to feel on the verge of the confrontation with his father. Whatever happened to him, Ruby and Olivia would be okay. They could make a good life — an easier life — with the remains of his money.
“Everybody locked and loaded?” Roman asked, scanning the group for any questions or concerns.
“Ready when you are,” Lyon said, his men standing by.
“Let’s do it,” Roman said.
He started for the trees, the other men fanning out around him in formation. The house was less than a mile through the trees.
Soon, he would face his father. And this time Roman would be in control.
36
RUBY
Ruby woke with a start,Gremlinsstill playing on the TV, Olivia mesmerized, Vera still in the kitchen.
