by Roxie Rivera
“I hope you’re right.” Ilya jerked open the door on his SUV. “If you’re not, I’ll be the first one to volunteer to take you out on a boat and drop your body into the Gulf.”
Like I’d give you a fucking chance…
His gaze moved away from Ilya’s SUV to Vivian, her face and upper body covered by Nikolai’s jacket as her husband bundled her away into her father’s SUV. Romero’s unexpected appearance a few hours earlier had been an unwelcome complication. Considering what had gone down with Scorpion, he hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of telling Romero what had happened to his one-time close friend. Surprisingly, the ex-con had taken the news with little more than a shrug. Apparently, Romero had long suspected that Scorpion was bent.
“Where are they going?” Kostya asked as he joined Nikolai on the sidewalk outside the warehouse.
“As far away from here as possible.” Nikolai’s gaze was fixed to the rear of the SUV taking his wife and unborn baby away from the city. “She’ll be safe with him.”
He made a noncommittal sound. Once, years ago, Romero had left Vivian to die from a gunshot wound. Now, he was trying to prove himself as father of the year material. The world was a wild fucking place sometimes.
“You know Vanya is going to strangle you when he finds out that Erin is missing,” Nikolai remarked. “If, by some miracle, he doesn’t kill you, Sergei will.”
“It’s my fucking mess,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I made the wrong decision this morning on undeveloped intel. Our women got hurt. I have to answer for that. If that means Ivan and Sergei are going to beat the shit out of me and put me in the ICU for a few weeks? So be it.”
“You say that now,” Nikolai grumbled. “You’ve never been hit by Vanya.” Scratching his fingers through his hair, he asked, “Do you have any idea where they’d take Erin or Bianca? Do you think they’re together? With Danny and Boy?”
“It’s easier to guard four hostages at one location than separately.”
“Do you think they’re still in the city?”
He shook his head. “Probably close by, though. I’d take them somewhere rural. Somewhere they won’t be heard easily. Somewhere that’s easy to hide the delivery trucks and big rigs that carried this hit squad into the city.”
“A barn?” Nikolai suggested. “A factory? A warehouse?”
“Something like that,” Kostya agreed.
“How are we going to find them?”
“My spiders are working on it.”
“And this mess?” Nikolai gestured to the warehouse behind him and the dead bodies inside.
“I’ve already made a call.”
“The Professionals?”
“Yes.”
“And Holly?” Nikolai asked, his jaw flexing with obvious irritation. He’d been none too pleased when he’d learned that Holly had been held at knife point and had helped him dispose of the body.
“Safe,” he assured him.
“Does her mother know?” Nikolai glanced at him. For someone who had only found out that morning that his aunt was living in Houston and had been a covert operative, the boss was taking it well. “We really don’t need the complication of an ex-KGB agent breathing down our necks.”
“I’m more worried about the fact that she’s your aunt,” Kostya replied. “Family is even more dangerous than spies.”
“I suppose in my case that’s true,” Nikolai grumbled. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and exhaled loudly. “I can’t even believe that my aunt and my sister have been living here all this time. I should have been looking after them both.”
“I don’t think Holly’s mother needs to be looked after,” Kostya remarked dryly. “If anything, we needed her more than she’s ever needed us.”
“I suppose Holly won’t need my help finding her father anymore.”
Kostya frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Nikolai seemed surprised. “She came to Samovar yesterday afternoon. We had a late lunch, and she asked me to help her find her father.”
“Why would she come to you?” he asked, trying not to sound hurt.
“Her mother told her that her father was Russian mafia so she came to me for help finding him.
“For fuck’s sake!” He closed his eyes and wondered how she could be so incredibly naïve as to walk into Nikolai’s restaurant and ask for that kind of help.
“She’s not going to let this go.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Nikolai’s phone began to ring, and he stepped aside to answer it. Kostya grabbed his own and texted Fox for an update. She answered quickly.
Lost the truck on I-10W. Following another lead. Will text asap with updates if Sunny finds anything.
“Any news?” Nikolai asked, pocketing his phone.
“The truck with Erin was last seen on I-10W. My spiders are following other leads.” He gestured with a lift of his head. “You?”
“Besian,” Nikolai said. “He’s loaning us enough men to cover our wounded and missing. They had an attempted hit at the garage, but Devil handled it.”
“Any other problems?”
Nikolai shook his head. “Not like this.”
“But?”
“He’s worried about the other outfits in town trying to make trouble with Lalo’s boys.”
“That’s not our problem tonight. Hector and Lalo should have had better control over their men. All this?” He motioned around them. “They’re the ones who weren’t sharing information and who didn’t tell us that Lorenzo had enough men left to pull this kind of job. If shit goes sideways for them? Not our problem.”
“I don’t want the Reyes boys getting in the middle of it,” Nikolai explained. “They’re useful. They’re the future.”
“Don’t say that loud enough for Lalo to hear you. He’ll do something stupid.”
“It would be an easy way to get rid of him,” Nikolai reasoned.
“Let’s clean up one coup completely before we start another, yeah?” He reached into his pocket to grab his vibrating cell phone and answered it. “Yes?”
“I think I’ve found them,” Sunny said, her voice calm. “Fox ran the names from the list Gabe gave you. She found an old dairy farm out here that belonged to the grandfather of one of the guys on the list. It went into foreclosure a few years ago. Someone bought it at auction for a fucking steal. Fox dug deeper, and she tracked it through a few other sales until it ended up back in the hands of the grandson.”
“That sounds like a good lead.”
“It is,” she confirmed. “I’m checking it out now. Binoculars,” she added, letting him know that she was staying far away and hidden. “There’s a huge building here. Probably where they did the milking? The doors are closed, but there are some big, deep tire tracks in the mud and caliche. I’ve seen six different guys so far. There must be more of them inside…”
“What are the approaches like? Any sort of security?”
“Fox is looking at maps for me right now. There are two different farm roads that head out this way, and one looks like it comes in from the rear of the dairy farm. Security is non-existent by the looks of it. I’ll scout some more and let you know.”
“Be thorough.”
“Yep.”
He lowered his phone and met Nikolai’s waiting gaze. “One of my girls thinks she’s found their hideout.”
“Where?”
“A dairy farm,” he said, looking at the skyline. “It will be dark soon. That’s the perfect cover for getting in and out without being seen.”
Nikolai glanced at his watch. “Sergei and Ivan should be at the airport by now.” He grimaced. “If we go meet them, all hell will break loose.”
“Ilya already told me he’s not going to tell Ivan what’s happened.”
Sighing, Nikolai picked up his phone and dialed a number. “Give the phone to Ten,” he ordered. A moment later, he said, “I need you to find Vanya and Sergei.
Tell them what’s happened. We think we’ve found the women and our soldiers. I’ll send you the details as soon as I have them.”
After the boss hung up, Kostya asked, “Really? Sending Ten when he’s already bleeding?”
“Neither Sergei nor Vanya are going to hit him looking like that. He’s safer than either of us.”
He couldn’t argue with that logic. As they walked to his car, he took a moment to check his phone again and noticed the message he’d missed from Holly. Shit. He read it twice, wondering how the fuck the subject of Lobo and how she’d come into his life had possibly come up at Fox’s safehouse. He didn’t even want to think about what Holly was imagining right now.
His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment. Another message popped onto his screen, this one from Sunny. He hurriedly typed out a reply to Holly and hit send. She wasn’t going to like it, but he didn’t have time to get into it with her right now.
Sliding behind the wheel, he glanced at Nikolai before dropping his phone in a cup holder. “Sunny found a barn where we can gather…”
Chapter Twenty-Five
NOT LONG AFTER Fox left with my shoes on her feet, I shook myself from the stupor that the anxiety inducing security footage had caused. Remembering what Sunny had said, I shut off all the lights and computer monitors and made sure all the windows had the blinds and curtains closed. I checked all the locks on each window and the two doors.
Satisfied I was secure, I curled up on the couch and tried not to think about what was happening to Erin. I kept seeing the bleeding man on her doorstep, and the way Erin struggled to free herself from the men kidnapping her. Were they hurting her? Was she suffering?
I tried to convince myself the men who had taken her wouldn’t hurt her. Surely, she was worth more to them untouched and unharmed.
Unless…
No. I refused to think like that.
Feeling glum and overwhelmed, I closed my eyes and wished I could fall asleep for a little bit. I wanted to stop thinking about all the terrible things happening. I didn’t want to worry about Kostya, Erin, Sunny, Fox or anyone else who had been dragged into this nightmare of violence. I wanted to go back to my easy, carefree life where my biggest worry was whether or not we were going to meet our client goals for the month.
Plagued by thoughts of what-if, I eventually drifted off to a fitful sleep. The distant sound of a phone ringing finally penetrated my vivid nightmare, and I jolted awake. It took me a moment to make sense of my strange surroundings. The room was pitch black and eerily quiet. It felt late, as if hours had passed since I’d fallen asleep.
Hearing the phone ringing again, I reached out for it, slapping the cushions around me. Remembering I’d left my new phone in the bedroom, I pushed off the couch and walked across the living area to find it. My steps were careful as I walked through the dark house, trying to remember the furniture placement.
Seeing the faint bluish glow of the phone, I grabbed it and sat down on the edge of the bed. I scrolled through the missed calls and texts. They were mostly from my mother, each one more upset and containing more capital letters than the last. Apparently, she had gone by my house and found it empty, my car in the garage and no sign of me anywhere. Now she was threatening to call the police if she didn’t hear from me.
Checking the time, I realized it had been hours since she’d contacted me. I had been asleep longer than I had estimated. Knowing my mother was probably having a fit, I sent her a quick message, reminding her that I had called and messaged her earlier about helping a friend. Hoping to soothe her panic and keep her from causing a scene, I promised to call her in ten minutes.
Quickly, I read through the other messages, almost all of the remainder from Savannah about salon business. There was only one from Kostya, a rather curt reply to my message about Lobo.
We’ll discuss Lobo later. Don’t leave the safe house.
I frowned at the tone of his message but decided against replying with something equally as terse. I was too tired to get into a text message fight, and I really didn’t want to have a conversation this important without being able to look him in the eye.
My thumb hovered over the screen when the phone rang again. I didn’t recognize the number and decided not to answer. It was probably a robocall or some scam anyway. As soon as the call went to voicemail, I started to type out a message to Kostya, but then another message popped up on my screen from the number I didn’t recognize.
Curious, I tapped the message to open it—and gasped. It was a photo of Savannah and Lana. Both were gagged and crying with blood on their faces, a trickle from Savannah’s nose and a thick rivulet from Lana’s mouth. Starting to panic, I zoomed in on the photo and realized they were in some kind of vehicle. A van? A delivery truck?
Thinking of Erin on the security footage earlier, I started to lose it. “Fuck! Fuck!”
What do I do?
Call Kostya. It was the only option.
Another message zoomed into view. This time, there were knives pressed to Savannah and Lana’s necks. Both had their eyes shut. Both seemed to be praying.
Another message dinged. It contained an address and a threat.
Come alone. You have 30 minutes. Or we start cutting.
Shaking with adrenaline, I checked the address, and it was less than ten minutes from the safehouse. I had time to get there on foot, but I had to hurry.
Certain Kostya was going to go ballistic, I took a screenshot and sent the image to him with a short message.
I can’t wait. I’m going. I’m sorry. Find us. Please.
Out in the living room, I grabbed the shoes Fox had left behind and jammed my feet into them. They were at least a size too big, but I didn’t care. Knowing the silent safe house alarms would alert her to me leaving, I opened the front door, raced across the xeriscaping and jumped onto the sidewalk.
Glad that I had at least tried to keep up with my cardio and workouts, I fell into a steady rhythm. My gaze darted from the map on my phone screen to the dark streets surrounding me. As I ran, a million thoughts bombarded my brain. None of them were good.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what a colossal mistake I was making right now. I was racing straight into a trap, but I couldn’t let my best friend die without trying to help her. If I got there in time, maybe I could stall until Kostya or Fox realized I had left. If I got there, maybe they would let Savannah and Lana go and just take me.
The hopeful part of me, the part that believed in Kostya and his abilities, knew he would find and save us all. There was no other option. It was him—or our deaths.
Out of breath and sucking air like a fish, I rounded a corner and slowed my pace. According to the map, I was close to my destination. I jogged cautiously forward, my gaze jumping between the dark warehouse storefronts and the eerily quiet and empty street. There was a large and empty space between a cabinet shop and a storage place that seemed to beckon me closer.
Realizing this was likely where I needed to go, I swallowed hard and turned on the flashlight on the phone. Holding it out in front of me, I swept the bright beam side to side. I stepped gingerly through the overgrown grass, my shoes crunching on broken glass. I avoided the discarded cans and other trash, worried I would fall or hurt myself.
The sound of an idling vehicle—a big rig—caught my attention. I came around the side of the woodworking shop and spotted a white 18-wheeler sitting in the empty parking lot behind the building. Before I could even get a glimpse of the license plate to snap a photo for Kostya, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge. I recognized the sensation as a warning that someone was close—too close.
But before I could even turn around, a gloved hand had clamped over my mouth, stifling my scream of fear. Something sharp pricked my neck and then stabbed deep. The phone fell from my hand. I tried to fight, to get away from the pain of the needle buried in my neck, but my head started to ache suddenly. My eyes crossed, and I had a hard time taking a full breath.
Sagging and
barely conscious, I felt my body being hefted up high. My head dangled low, bouncing against the lower back of a man who smelled of stale cigarettes and greasy food. I tried to fight the sleep threatening to overwhelm me, but whatever I had been injected with was too strong. I barely registered being tossed into the back of the truck, my hip and shoulder slamming into the metal floor so hard I thought they might have broken.
Just as my eyes started to drift closed, the last shaft of light from the parking lot lamps illuminated Savannah and Lana slumped together nearby. My last thought was of the only man who could save us now.
Kostya.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“GOD ALMIGHTY, THIS thing is hot!” Spider grimaced as he tossed the body on the metal slab protruding from the open crematory furnace.
“That’s the point,” Kostya remarked, blinking his tired eyes as he shielded his face from the heat. Normally, he preferred to take bodies that needed disposal to the funeral home, but this old beast of a furnace he’d picked up a few years ago and hidden in a warehouse was less conspicuous and faster.
“How long does it take?” Spider wondered as he pushed the drawer forward and closed the heavy door.
“Two hours.”
Spider glanced at the pile of bodies on the tarp near the furnace. “This is days of work, Kostya.”
“No shit?” he deadpanned. “I won’t do them all at once. It’s too much work. Some will go into deep freeze. Some will go out to the Gulf. Others will go into the ground. I have to process them first.”
Spider made a face. “How the fuck do you handle this kind of work? What the hell kind of nightmares do you have?”
“I don’t,” he lied. “I sleep like a baby.”
“Spoken like a man who never had a baby,” Spider retorted. “Babies don’t sleep for shit, man. You’re up and down all fucking night.” Rubbing his jaw, Spider asked, “Do you want me to help you process these?”
“Do you have somewhere better to be?”
“Shit, I can think of a dozen different places I’d rather be than this nightmare factory.”