“This isn’t a secure line,” I remind him. “And I don’t know that we can trust Grinkov doesn’t have all of Brooklyn bugged. I need you to storm the fort.”
That’s our code for when I’m in one of the safehouses. Given that I don’t know who’s listening, I can’t just tell him what happened. He’ll know how to find me and we can talk about it in person.
There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and I know he’s pissed. He has every right. What I did last night was reckless, and I knew that then.
“Hold the line,” he tells me, our code that he’s on his way. Then he hangs up.
Forty-five minutes later, he’s pounding on the front door. He’s one of the few people who would get through the blockade without question.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he hisses when he walks through the door. “Not that I’m questioning you,” he backs off slightly, remembering that I’m the one who signs his checks.
“Not here,” I say, leading him into the control room.
When we get inside, he takes a seat and stares at the screens.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says lowly. “You have the girl, too.”
He finds her easily on the screen, doing pushups in her room. She’s been working on her cardio for the last half hour, probably out of boredom. Then again, it could be a message to me that she’s not to be fucked with.
“What the hell happened last night?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.
I tell him everything. From seeing Anya fight in that alley, to dragging her back here against her will.
“What was I supposed to do?” I ask him seriously. “She would have run. If Mikhail had found her, he probably would have killed her.”
He nods, exhaling slowly through his nose.
“That’s probably true,” he admits. “But I don’t understand why you got involved in the first place, Viktor. This isn’t like you. Are you really willing to lose everything you’ve built over some princess?”
“If we’re lucky, Mikhail will never put two and two together,” I tell him mildly, though we both know that’s not likely.
Mikhail is going to leave no stone unturned in his quest to find out what happened last night. His future bride is missing, but that’s just the cherry on top of the disrespect. The slain bodies are the real offense. I took out his men with no provocation. He’s going to escalate this to the highest order, and probably pretend that finding Anya is his real aim.
“What’s the chatter?” I ask again.
“Grinkov’s in a rage,” he says slowly.” He’s already pulled men from Sunset Park and Coney. They’re canvassing the area trying to figure out what the hell happened. They’re going to pull any and all security cameras they can find.”
“That’s predictable.” I nod. “I doubt they’ll find anything of use.”
“What if they do?” he asks. “What if they figure out it’s you and start going after our interests?”
“It’s why I told you to lock down the docks.” I shrug. “And I’ve increased security on our other assets tenfold. We’re ready if it escalates.”
“Viktor.” He sighs warily. “You could still return her. Use her as a bargaining chip to request clemency. Or, better yet, don’t tell him it was you who killed his men. Tell him you found her wandering and knew she belonged to him. Say you kept her safe, but for a price.”
I glance at the monitor again. She’s back in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for something. Food, maybe, but more likely a weapon.
“She’s not a bargaining chip,” I tell him seriously. “She’s a person with agency.”
“So kidnapping her was what? A way for you to test her agency?”
I meet his gaze and wonder how I can possibly explain this. I knew the risk. I put us in this position knowing what it could mean. Leaving her in that alley was simply not an option.
“She isn’t a bargaining chip,” I repeat, hoping the gravity of my tone will put an end to the line of questioning.
Silence settles between us. He knows better than to press me.
“Then we’d better prepare,” he finally says in resignation.