“You know he already has his own access to almost everything, right?” That includes the Dashkov satellites, although he is highly monitored and only given access in dire circumstances.
“Don’t remind me.”
He opens a small black box to the right of the door, painted the same black as the door itself. If he hadn’t opened it, I wouldn’t have guessed it was there. “Just like the vault at the Dashkov Building, every designated person has their own individual code that rotates at the end of every week.”
“Who are the designated people?”
Maksim’s smile widens. “Matthias and Vas, obviously,” he tells me. “Dima and me because we share duties as head of Bratva enforcers, the six people who rotate shifts in that room, and you.”
I think about that for a moment. “What about Nicolai and Leon? Wouldn’t they have access as well since they are part of the upper cadre?”
Maksim shakes his head. “Nicolai’s and Leon’s duties have nothing to do with our cyber security unit. Nicolai, asobshchak, deals in money and businesses. His responsibility is managing the smaller businesses such as the nightclubs, restaurants, and strip joints we launder our money through.”
“And Leon?”
The giant Russian winks at me. “Leon the Liaison is what we call him,” Maksim chuckles. “He is the face of most of our businesses. Matthias may be the CEO, but Leon is the one everyone sees. Press meetings, marketing, all of that is him and our PR coordinator Melanie.”
“I feel like I should have known this already,” I mumble petulantly, embarrassed at my lack of knowledge on the inner workings of my own…empire? Yeah, empire sounds perfect and badass.
“Honor demanded vengeance,” Maksim assures me softly. “That is why you have us. You’ll learn as you go. Matthias had years to be trained by Tomas to bePakhan. You weren’t even given a how-to manual.”
Ugh. The amount of wisdom this man has in his head is maddening. Once again, he hits the nail on the head. Fuck.
Maksim enters his passcode into the silver keypad and tilts his head back slightly for the retinal scanner. With a small beep, it grants him access, the lock on the door disengaging. Cool air wafts into the warm corridor, causing goosebumps to break out over my exposed skin. Maksim waves me inside, closing the door tight behind us. Funny thing about this room is that you have to use your code and retina scan to leave as well.
The room is painted in a light cream color. I’ve been imagining something much darker, like a hovel of some kind where they are all hunkered down and see very little light. That isn’t the case, since my imagination isn’t conducive to a goodwork environment and would probably make vampires out of everyone being unable to see the sunlight.
Which they can’t—but the walls have artificial windows with digital landscapes inside them. The lights in the room produce a type of artificial sunlight. It is genius, really. This has to be the best room in Washington, where seasonal depression is a huge thing because of how little the sun shines throughout the fall and winter months.
There are no individual desks or offices in the room, save one that is used during an active op. The analysts in charge of the mission can use the room without being disturbed or crossing channels with anyone else in the comms center. Otherwise, the desks are shoved together in the middle of the room with obvious stations set up, but there are no boundaries or dividers.
“They don’t have separate workspaces because most of the time they aren’t working alone but as a team, and the teams change,” Maksim says, reading my mind. “This allows them to switch up where and who they sit with to better accommodate their needs.”
Some of the analysts look up from their laptops, interest sliding into their gazes as we walk farther into the room.
“Great,” one of the analysts mutters. “Another one to babysit.”
The girl across from him ducks her head, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment at his less-than-subtle jab at her. Clove—that is her name, if I remember correctly. Maksim gave me a dossier on each of the analysts in the room. She is the only female, but her skills and credentials are far more impressive than most of her male counterparts.
Especially this one.
“Travis,” I look down my nose at the man. “Isn’t it?”
He glares up at me, nose wrinkled in disdain. “Yeah? Want a cookie or something for knowing my name, princess?”
Next to me, Maksim growls at his insult but stays quiet. I smirk at the dark-haired man before me, whose obvious dislike of his coworker and immediate distaste for me speak volumes about his character. He is smart, for sure. Off the charts. But his background holds a large history of misogyny, and his current projects are somewhat lacking—as if a newbie is doing his workload on top of their own. He has a history of having other people do his work, using his power over others to get ahead, and skimping out on his own duties.
When I pointed this out to Maksim this morning, he is livid at having missed the signs. I can’t blame him, though; he is stretched thin. The problem is that Matthias has his men trying to run both the criminal side and the legal side of the businesses. It isn’t that they can’t do it—but this is how things like this slip through the holes.
“Travis Dorchester, born March 18, 1990,” I recite his information. “Lived with his mother and father until two years ago when they finally kicked him out on his ass.” The man before me pales. “Resigned from his last few jobs because he said they weren’t working out. Only, come to find out, you were forced to resign due to complications with your coworkers—specifically of the female variety. Making them do the work that was assigned to you. Taking the credit where it didn’t belong. Applied under the last name Crenshaw so that no one would put two and two together.”
“I don’t—” He stutters, trying to come up with a believable lie. It isn’t going to work for me.
“You don’t what?” I ask, eyes narrowed at him. “Don’t know why you did it? Don’t know what I’m talking about? Don’t care?”
“What? No?—”
I don’t let him finish. “Good,” I smile at him, condescension dripping from my tone, “because you have two options. I can either fire you, or you can take a pay cut and a demotionuntil you prove you can do the work on your own without the assistance of those around you.”