The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Book One
Page 33
“Because dear boy, he was like you, an easy target, a push over… but unlike you, he wasn’t smart enough to see it. You can still do something about it?”
“Like what?” Ivan asked. His eye twitched.
Smirnov shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I’m currently in the market for a new underboss.” He smiled at Ivan. “No what I mean?” He looked at his bound hands.
Ivan sucked his teeth again.
Khalid slowly and undetected felt for his gun, velcroed under the desk.
“And what about my mother, what job would you have for her?” Ivan asked.
Khalid quickly let go of the gun as he realized where the conversation was going.
“As I said before…”
Ivan cut Smirnov off. “There is no more to say, old man. Make peace with your God.”
The door opened again and Dmitry walked inside. He looked over at his brother and realized that a heated discussion had been taking place.
“Stop talking to him, brat. He’s a snake,” Dmitry said, closing the door.
“So, I’ve learned,” Ivan said, feeling the sweat on his brow. Snake or not, the man had gotten into his head.
“You know,” Khalid interrupted. “I have his signature down to a science. We don’t need him anymore and we had better change venues before too long. There are a few in the city who still know that he’s associated with that factory.”
Dmitry nodded and looked at his father. “Well, you take the paperwork and go and stay with Dorian and his team. We’ll finish up in here.” He took a deep breath.
Ivan looked over at his brother and back at Smirnov with an uncomfortable look.
Dmitry could identify.
Neither wanted to be the one who ended this man’s life.
Khalid grabbed the papers and walked toward the door.
“Aren’t you going to bid an old friend goodbye, Khalid? Don’t I at least deserve that?” Smirnov said sincerely.
Khalid turned on his heels and looked at Smirnov. With slumping shoulders, he nodded his head. “I hate that things had to end this way. But you have to know that this stems from your total destruction of everything in your path. I am sorry, brat. I wish you well on your journey.”
“How long have we been friends?”
“Five decades.”
“And how many times have we seen these things go full circle?” Smirnov asked.
“Always.”
“So you know what’s coming for you as well, brat?”
“When the time comes, I only hope to leave as gracefully as you will do…even if it is by my son’s hand,” Khalid said with a chill of finality. “God’s speed.” With that, he left the room quickly, closing the door behind him.
As soon as they were alone, Ivan pulled his gun from his holster, but Dmitry stopped him.
“What now?” Ivan asked exasperated.
“Step outside for a minute,” Dmitry said to Ivan under his breath.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to leave him unattended?” Ivan said with a huff.
“He can’t go anywhere. Just step out here for a minute,” Dmitry said, rolling his eyes.
“Fine,” Ivan said, pushing Dmitry out of the way. He looked back at Smirnov. “Now would be time to do that praying you and I were talking about.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Smirnov replied nonchalantly.
They walked quickly down into the darkness of the corridor away from the men and Arie to talk. As soon as they stopped, Ivan turned and pushed his brother and growled. “Why are we stalling?”
“I…I don’t want you to take any part in what is about to happen.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know if he’s your father or your uncle. And what if he is your father, Ivan. Then you’ve slaughtered him.”
“Yeah, so?”
Dmitry sighed. “It’s a bad omen.”
“Please don’t tell me that you’re actually having second thoughts about killing him.”
“What we are about to do will have long term effect that you might not understand, Ivan.”
“Are you talking about that religious shit? Murder is murder. We’ve done it a hundred times.”
“He’s the father to one of us and we are brothers. It is much deeper.”
“So you want to let him live?”
“No. I’m not stupid. I know that can’t happen, but I don’t want the blood on your hands.”
Ivan wasn’t sure if he really wanted to do it before but just the restriction by his brother was slowly changing his mind.
In earshot, Arie could hear everything. The Medlov men were having serious second thoughts. While they wanted their father dead, they were afraid to do it themselves. She knew that when it came down to it, it would be Dmitry who would pull the trigger, simply because of his overprotective nature over Ivan, but that would not benefit her at all.
She looked down the opposite corridor at her brother talking to Khalid and realized that this might be her only opportunity to get from under his stifling control. Feeling her side for her gun attached to her leg, she quietly slipped into his study where Smirnov was being held and closed the door behind her.
Smirnov looked up surprised.
“They sent a suka to do a man’s job,” he said disappointed.
Arie pulled her gun out and pulled back the lever. “This isn’t about your sons. This is about my brother,” she said, pulling back the trigger.
The silencer made the six bullets that she emptied into his body from his head down into the chest nearly inaudible. But the loud thump of a huge body falling to the ground caught everyone’s attention.
The door opened and Dmitry and Ivan came barreling through first, then Dorian and Khalid. They all looked over at her in confusion.
“No one should have to kill their own father,” Arie said in a matter of fact tone. She looked over at her brother. “Consider it a favor.”
Dmitry looked down at his lifeless father and clenched his jaw. “Khalid…Dorian…leave me alone with your sister for a minute.”
“She will be harshly punished for this,” Dorian said, not taking his eyes off of Arie. “I promise you this, Dmitry. All I ask is that you do her no harm by your own hand. She is my sister. I should be the one to carry out her punishment.”
“You will keep your fucking hands off of her,” Ivan snarled.
Dmitry turned around and looked over at Dorian. “Leave us. Don’t worry. I won’t bring any harm to her.”
Dorian bowed his head respectfully and left with Khalid. As the door closed, Dmitry walked over to his father and picked him up off the floor, re-erecting his chair and wiping the blood from his face with the napkin in his suit jacket.
“I’ve found that nothing comes free,” Dmitry said, looking at his father’s face. “What do you want for this kindness?”
Arie looked over at Ivan. “I want…I want my freedom. I want to run this team, because I know what’s best and because it’s my turn now.”
Dmitry looked over at Ivan. “Is she ready?”
“She is,” Ivan vouched. “No one else ran in here to take care of our problems. She stuck her head out and got it done, like she always does. I’ve seen her in action. She’s ready, brat.”
Dmitry nodded. “And who is going to tell Dorian that he’s no longer in charge of his own team?”
“Leave it to me. They are my team,” Ivan said, knowing that it would create a riff between he and his friend. Still, he loved Arie and her wants were far more important than Dorian’s need to feel superior to his own blood.
“Any other requests,” Dmitry asked.
“With your new acquisitions would it be too much to ask for more money?” she asked with her hand on her hip.
“That’s reasonable,” Dmitry answered softly. “Anything else?”
“No. I’m a very simple woman,” she answered.
“Fine. Ivan, tell Dorian after we get this all taken care of that his sister is now in charge. And get he
r some cash to start. For now, just make sure that he keeps his hands off of her,” Dmitry ordered. He looked at Arie one last time. “Thank you.”
Arie nodded graciously and walked out of the room with Ivan.
Dmitry looked one last time at the bloody, lifeless corpse in front of him and looked at his watch. Out of respect, he stopped the dial and slipped the watch off his wrist and put it in his pocket. It would be the only reminder that tonight actually happened besides the new wealth he had acquired from his father.
It was ironic. He had married Catherine for her wealth, and she had married him for his body, contacts and the fact that she wanted the last laugh on his father. But the last laugh had not only brought Catherine revenge, it has also brought his mother her revenge, and he and his brother to the top of the Vor with billions of dollars at his fingertips.
And what had he done to acquire it? Everything no one else in the world would ever want to do. Maybe he was a gutter rat, but he was the most eager one to ever emerge from Mother Russia. And eventually, he just have to come to grips with that fact if he was ever going to survive the uphill battle that he was about to embark upon, starting with Elsa’s father.
Chapter Ten
The sun was beginning to rise on the horizon by the time that Dmitry arrived back into the city of Prague. Stained in dried blood, he had changed into some of his father’s clothes back at his chateau, showered in his father’s bathroom and shaved with his father’s gold-platted kit.
Now, he looked nothing like the man who had just slaughtered a team of unsuspecting bodyguards and scientists, had his father murdered by a psychotic teenage girl and taken over a thirty-year, billion dollar empire.
And ironically, his father’s suits had fit perfectly. That had never happened before. For that matter, none of last night’s events had ever happened before.
At seven feet tall and ripped with 3D muscle, Dmitry had never been able to borrow anyone’s clothes outside of Ivan, and even his things ran short.
Dmitry bit his lipped. Borrowed was probably not the best word to use.
Taken.
He had taken his father’s clothes, taken his life, and ultimately he had taken over Smirnov’s vast empire. Taken was a word that deserved to be tattooed across Dmitry’s forehead along with a few other choice words. But he had to get over that now. What was done was done. There was no turning back.
In just a few short hours, Khalid had arranged for him to sign over a hundred different forged documents signing over everything from the chateau to businesses to even the hotel that he presently pulled up in front of. He rolled down the window and looked up at it again. For the first time, it seemed ornate…just like everything else he owned.
Stepping out, the glass doors automatically opened for him as he buttoned the top of his new suit jacket and proceeded inside the hotel, he looked around. People were busy bustling about. They all were clueless that he was now the owner of this fine establishment. A since of pride overwhelmed him unexpectedly. This place was his, just like Hutton, just like so many.
He smirked as he made his way to the front desk. The women behind the desk saw him approaching and quickly moved in front of their computers to help him.
Dmitry looked down at them, reacting as all women did to his deceiving face and gave a charming smile.
“Hello, ladies,” he said in a deep sultry baritone.
“Hello, Mr. Medlov,” they said in unison.
“I’ll be taking over Smirnov’s suite from now on,” he said, knowing that they would be confused.
The two desk clerks looked at each other then back up at him for more of an explanation.
Dmitry pulled the deed to the hotel out of his jacket pocket and put it on the desk in front of them. They looked down at it confused.
“There’s been a change in management, girls. Now, I’ll need my key,” he said, putting the deed away.
“Yes, sir,” the smaller brunette said, clicking on her computer quickly. “Will you be keeping the same employees?” There was worry in her voice.
“Do you have a family to take care of?” Dmitry asked.
“A little girl,” she answered.
Dmitry nodded. “Most things will be kept the same. You don’t have to worry about your job.”
The woman’s shoulders eased of their tension. Pulling the keys from the top desk, she handed them to Dmitry. “I’m not sure if Mr. Smirnov’s belongings are still up there. I’ll have someone run and check.”
“No need. Mr. Smirnov as you refer to him is my father. I purchased it from him. I’ll have whatever he left taken out to the chateau,” Dmitry answered.
The woman breathed through her nostrils and passed him the key. Her small hand rested in his.
“If there is anything that I can do for you, please let me know.”
“Thank you,” Dmitry said, reading between the lines. As he was about to turn around, he stopped. “As a matter of fact, there is something you can do for me. There is a very special woman coming this morning. Her name is Elsa. She’s a six foot two black woman…looks like a supermodel. See her up to my suite as soon as she arrives. I don’t want her to wait for one second.”
“No sir, I won’t make her wait.”
“Great,” Dmitry said, nodding. “You ladies have a great day.”
He could feel them watching him as he walked away. He imagined that their questions multiplied with each step. But for every question anyone might have, he had an answer as long as he had Khalid. And his father was still at his fingertips, boxed up in a freezer in the cellar under his new chateau. And when the time came, he’d unthaw him and blow him to high hell on one of his planes, but for now, he needed his fingertips just in case they had other things that had to be validated. That had been Ivan’s clever idea. The boy was evidently good for several things.
***
When Davyd got the call from Dmitry, he ran as quickly as he could up to the suite. Walking inside with his men, holding on to his gun, he called out for his boss, unsure if he was walking into a trap. Dmitry called out from the same room that he had met his father and sat in the same seat that his father had sat.
Davyd walked into the room quietly and looked down the steps at Dmitry in his suit, eyes focused, legs crossed and felt suddenly out of the loop.
“I take it that you got what you came for,” Davyd said, putting away his gun.
“I did,” Dmitry said, standing up. He walked over to Davyd and looked down at the man who had become something of a father to him.
“Did you kill him?” Davyd asked on baited breath.
Dmitry nodded but did not utter a word.
Davyd nodded back, clenching his jaw. He knew that the war was far from over, but he also knew that this had been a uncompromising success.
“You look worried,” Dmitry said, hitting Davyd on the shoulder. “Did you doubt me, old friend?”
“In the last few hours, I have doubted everything and everyone, including myself,” Davyd answered sincerely.
Dmitry turned and offered Davyd a seat. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot this morning, already. Look, I don’t want you to worry, Davyd. We are friends…brothers even. I called you up here to have breakfast with me. After such a long night, I’m afraid that I don’t want to eat alone. I’ll fill you in on everything that you missed.”
“I should have been there,” Davyd lamented gruffly. Taking a seat at the chair nearest the window overlooking the city, he pushed himself up to the table.
Dmitry sat down across from him and waved at his bodyguard. “Have the butler come in now. We’re ready for breakfast. Have you eaten?” he asked Davyd.
“No,” Davyd nodded. “Not a bite.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you, but you understand that I couldn’t just call.”
“I understand.” Davyd calmed himself with each slowed breath. He was not a young man anymore and could feel it in the strain in his chest. Looking around the elegant dayroom, it suddenly hit him. Dmitry w
as now Czar. Such a young man was now the most powerful mob boss in the entire eastern hemisphere and the world did not yet even know.
Dmitry pulled off his jacket and placed it behind his chair. Placing his large elbows on the table, he let out a deep breath before he smiled. “It’s done, Davyd. We own everything.”
“You own everything,” Davyd corrected. “I didn’t do all of this.” He looked around the room again. It was starting to sink in slowly. “You’ve pulled yourself from the depths of obscurity to underground royalty to riches beyond my imagination.”