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“What’s going to happen? You think Dimitri will kill me in plain sight?”
“I don’t know. That’s the point. You have more enemies than Sergei himself—here and back home. The GRU won’t forgive what you did,” he added in a near-whisper.
“They don’t have much of a choice,” I replied tightly. “If anyone comes after me, I tell the world all of their dirty little secrets. I’m sure more than one country would like to know where their political prisoners are.”
“They could turn you over to the Americans as a spy, Misha. Is an American black site any better than a Russian one? Torture is torture no matter whose flag it’s under.”
“At least the Americans can’t kill my whole family,” I countered, sipping my vodka calmly. “Besides, they already know who I am. They know who all of us are, anyone who is connected to Sergei. If they haven’t bothered with me yet, I don’t think I’m in any danger.”
“And if your former commander sends a hit squad after you? What kind of non-danger will you be in then?”
“That’s what I have you and Valery for.” I patted Anton’s shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
He chuckled but it didn’t have any mirth. “You think we can fend off Spetsnazovtsi? You trained us well but notthatwell.”
Before I could answer, the main lights in the club flipped on and the music came to an abrupt halt. I searched the crowd for the source of the disruption as a group of police and firemen fanned through the sea of people, directing everyone toward the exits.
I thunked my drink down on the bar top and made my way through the crowd, intending to find out what the hell was going on.
Marek beat Anton and I to our unwanted guests. “What’s the problem?”
“You in charge?” one of the firemen said, looking at Marek with a bored expression.
“Yeah. I’m the general manager. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“You’re over occupancy.”
“What?!”
“You have more than the posted limit,” the fireman droned on. “I see a clear lack of directional exit signs, no proper lighting. And the police said the rear stairwell was blocked with crates. So, we’re shutting you down until you rectify those situations. Expect your citations from the Fire Prevention Bureau in about seven to ten business days.”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me!” Marek’s hands balled at his sides, prompting me to take him by the elbow and pull him back a step. “There’s no way we’re over capacity! The doormen make sure of it.”
“Take it up with the judge.” The fireman whistled and circled a finger in the air. “Let’s move out, people! Party’s over!”
“Go check the rear stairwell,” I said to Anton over my shoulder.
He nodded and disappeared.
A police officer moved forward into the empty spot left by the fire official, handing Marek a stack of citations. “Don’t forget to take care of those too.”
“Anothercitation for over occupancy? Double dipping, much?Anda liquor violation?! Are you out of your fucking minds?!” Marek gaped at him.
“Just doing our job.”
“Yeah? Fuck your job! How about you go stop a murder or something useful for a change? Fucking worthless mother—”
I grasped Marek’s arm again and pulled him away before he could get himself arrested on top of everything else. “Not now,” I said between my teeth.
He whirled on me, unleashing his anger as I knew he would the second I restrained him. “This is fucking bullshit, Misha! Has this clubeverbeen shut down before?”
“No,” I answered in a huff. People knew better. At least, theydid.
“Exactly! This is Ken. He’s done it before. I knew it was only a matter of time before he came back. That fucking asshole!”
“You don’t know it was him.”
He snorted and threw my hand off his arm. “The next step is to yank our liquor license. Want to know what happens after that? Your boy is out of a job or doesn’t have a pulse. Guess it all depends on how pissed off Sergei gets.”
