Traitor.
I point my finger in her face. “She knifed someone in the alley.”
“And I’m about to ground both of you.”
That shuts us up.
Not that he could actually ground us, but it would be fun to watch him try.
Kenzi shoots me a sly smile, her eyes sparkling. I had been worried I lost the sister I grew up with. The one who was always full of smiles and sass. Maybe I didn’t lose her.
Maybe there’s hope after all.
forty-eight
Why does this feel like a fucking set up?” I breathe as we walk into my office at Cataclysm, one of the kinkier clubs I own in Seattle. “We’ve never had a problem with any of our shipments from Maine before, but now three in less than a month? Something is not right.”
Vas hums his agreement as he assembles his FN PS90. It is standard carry for my people when performing ambushes or raids. It is smaller and more compact than an AK-47 or AR-15. It is also more reliable. It allows for a thirty-round magazine, and the bullet is lighter than a 115 grain 9mm and travels nearly twice as far.
“Do you think Ricardo is in on it?” he wonders, passing one of the magazines to Maksim. That is a fair question. We have been using Ricardo as our supplier for years, and he has never fucked up before, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be bought. If someone offers the proper incentive, I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns on me. I just hope I am wrong.
“Anything is possible.”
The door to my office opens, and in walks Nicolai.
“Everyone is ready,” he tells me, strapping on one of the vests from the table. “We have two teams hitting the airport and another hitting a warehouse listed under the name Remus Islandier. Your father found it buried beneath a stack of horribly organized paperwork at the mansion.”
He has taken over the mansion, digging through the piles and piles of paperwork that were left carelessly behind. He will be leaving for Russia in a few weeks and wants to have the place in shape for when he comes back to visit me.
Maksim snickers. “That was too easy to find,” he boasts. “Although I suppose they never expected anyone to find out who either of them truly was.”
Nicolai grunts. “Still could have made it slightly more of a challenge.”
Dima laughs over the comm line. “Seriously?” he crows. “We’ve been looking for these assholes for over a month, and you’re complaining—they didn’t give you a challenge?”
I laugh. Fucker has a point.
“We could let them escape again,” I suggest with a shrug. “Send you after them like a hound on a fox’s trail.”
“I’m good,” Nicolai mumbles. “Promise.” We all roar with laughter. If there is one thing myobshchakhates, it is traveling.
“Dima.” I draw his attention back to me. “You are clear to breach whenever the urge arises.”
Dima chuckles darkly. “Lock and load boys.” I don’t have time to correct him on how to address his men properly before the alarm of the club signals a security breach.
“Hell yeah,” Maksim bellows, shoving his fist in the air. “Ura!”
Vas shakes his head as he follows after Maksim, who bolts out the office door. “Fucking Soviet war cry,” he sneers.“Couldn’t pick something better? More poetic? It’s just a fucking noise. Not even a real word.”
“They are attempting to get in the front door.” Maksim’s smug voice filters through the comm line. Fucker is fast if he has already made it to the front. “Stupid idea, really. The best access point is through the dumpster chute.”
Vas snorts. “Let’s not give them any ideas, hm?”
“I’m getting too old for this,” Nicolai huffs, running a hand through his beard. I jab his side with my elbow.
“Don’t worry,” I tease. “We have a great senior citizen plan.”
He takes a swipe at me. “Fuck you.”