Alexei falls into step with me in the hallway. As we step through the doors out onto the city streets, I catch sight of two black SUVs down the block.
“Those are my people,” Alexei says. “They’ll make sure she cooperates.”
I nod. “Elizabeth, New Jersey. Club Zoloto. That’s our target.”
“You’re certain she’s telling the truth?”
“Amanda’s many things, but she has a strong sense of self-preservation. She knows well what would happen if she were to lie to me.”
“Very well. I’ll have a team in place within thirty minutes. I’ll gather building plans and come up with a strategy for attack.”
“Do it. I’ll bring my own men, too. It’s going to be a show of overwhelming force. Whatever Kolya’s planning, it ends today.”
“I like the sound of that.” Alexei pulls out his phone and begins dialing.
I stand on the precinct steps and look out at the city. Somewhere in Jersey, in some shithole nightclub, Thea is waiting. She’s afraid and she’s alone, and she’s unsure if I’m coming.
But I am.
And God help anyone who stands in my way.
CHAPTER 46
THEA
The service corridor behind the DJ booth is narrow and dark, lit by a single emergency strip that casts everything in a dull, eerie red. It smells like stale beer and sweat.
I move as quickly as I can without making any noise. My bare feet are freezing against the floor, and I feel like I’m making a descent into hell.
There’s a map on the wall, and I pause to review it. The exit is located at the first junction to the left, just past a storage room. There’s a main office on the right, likely Kolya’s.
Don’t stop. Don’t look. Don’t breathe louder than you have to.
I reach the junction and go left.
The corridor opens slightly, with doors on both sides labeled storage, electrical, and utility. The muffled thumping of bass starts somewhere up above. Is it evening? Does that mean Kolya’s getting ready to open up this shithole for the night? I can’t imagine anyone being here willingly.
I hear footsteps behind me, and I freeze. The steps are fast and light. I spin, pressing myself against the wall, my heart hammering.
It’s Sylvie.
Thank God.
She rounds the corner at a jog, slightly breathless.
“How did you get away?” I ask, looking her up and down to confirm she’s okay.
“I told them I needed to go to the supply room to get stuff to clean the bar. They don’t know any better. That gives us, like, ten minutes, tops, to get out of here.”
“Is that going to be enough?”
“It’ll have to be.”
The relief that floods me at the sight of my friend is so intense that it nearly makes my knees buckle. I grab her arm and squeeze once. She offers me a tight smile and nods, then we move.
The corridor bends right, plunging us deeper into the guts of the building. We pass a door marked PRIVATE—padlocked from the outside—and another that’s slightly ajar, warm light spilling through the gap.
I know I should keep moving, that I don’t have a second to waste. All the same, I can’t help but stop and glance inside.