Chapter 19
19
Rurik
T here wasn’t a security system I couldn’t hack my way into. If the FBI knew about me, they wouldn’t lock me up behind bars. No—they’d try to recruit me. To bring me under their control. Because I wasn’t just good at hacking; I had a knack for always getting what I wanted.
Right then, what I wanted was the blood of whoever put Malik in the hospital on my fucking hands.
I growled under my breath when yet another security camera didn’t show me anything. Gritting my teeth, I shoved my laptop away and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to force myself to think past the rage bubbling in my gut. From what I saw from the restaurant’s camera feeds, it’d been a sniper that hit Malik with those bullets. And Anatoly was right—those bullets had been meant for him, not my man.
Yet Malik had shoved Anatoly out the way and taken those bullets for him.
“You fucking idiot,” I whispered to myself.
Shoving from the bed, I paced to the window and crossed my arms, looking out over the streets. I needed to think like a sniper. Like someone intent on taking out a high-value target. There’d be a lot of money riding on a hit like that, which meant there would be a lot more risk. Anatoly was not just the leader of a huge criminal organization. He was involved in politics all over the world. He was a businessman.
His death—or even the attempt on his life—would make a big splash. And it already was. Even on my way back into the hotel, all I’d heard were people whispering about the attempt on Anatoly Balakin’s life and the unknown man who’d saved him, risking his own life in the process.
Yeah… Malik was going to fucking pay for that one when he woke up.
I focused on the buildings across from me. If I, personally, was taking out a high-value target like the Pakhan, I’d get somewhere that couldn’t be easily seen by cameras. I’d be crouched low so no one could see me from the street. I’d be close enough to get my shot cleanly, but I’d still be far enough away that when the job was done, I could quickly gather my shit and get the fuck out.
Or maybe I wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t go on the run. Maybe, if I had balls big enough, I’d live my life normally. And a man taking on the job of assassinating Anatoly Balakin had balls that were just about too fucking big for the United States of America.
If I was just cocky enough, too, I’d do the hit from my apartment. And there were apartment buildings over there. Because who would think to look in someone’s own home first? If someone was just cocky enough, they’d think, surely, no one would do a hit from the comfort of their own fucking living room. Which would give them ample amounts of time to do clean up and get rid of the weapon.
I snatched up my laptop again and watched the video where Malik got shot, forcing my rage down as I watched those bullets slam into him and knock him back against the SUV. Instead, I watched that laser, and then, I went through all the surrounding buildings, going through their security feeds again. Except this time, I was much more careful.
This time, I was thinking like the sniper.
And there .
Mother fuck, am I fucking good.
Sure enough, it was coming from an apartment. The rifle was just resting on the edge of the window. I would’ve missed it if I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for. I zoomed in, taking in the furnishings. It was a small apartment, just a studio. A bed was against one wall, and a TV was mounted across from it. There was a bowl of some kind of food sitting on the kitchen table. No doubt, he’d paused his dinner to try to take out Anatoly.
A smirk curved my lips, and for the first time since I got that soul-crushing phone call that split me the fuck apart, I felt like I was coming back together again.
“Gotcha,” I whispered.
It didn’t take me long to figure out which apartment it was and who it belonged to. Joseph White—ex-military, SEALs to be specific. Grew up in foster care. Not married. No kids. No girlfriends or fucktoys. He was a man that went to work as a quiet little accountant and took hitman jobs on the weekend.
He was well known on the dark web. He only took high dollar kills. Didn’t know what he did with all that money considering where he lived, but I imagined it wasn’t about the money for him.
Nah… it was about the thrill of the kill.
I found his information and sent him a little message under some bullshit alias I created on a message board, asking him if we could meet for coffee at a quaint little coffee shop in a small town. The owner of the cafe I planned to meet at was the wife of one of Anatoly’s guards, Akim, and I knew she’d keep her mouth shut. The woman was fierce and ex-military as well, only she’d served in the Marine Corps. The only reason she’d left was because she’d fallen in love with Akim.
And the only reason she wasn’t one of Anatoly’s soldiers was because her husband would not hear a word of it. Honestly, it was the only control that fiery woman let him have.
I thought it was adorable.
She had Akim by the balls, and we all knew it.
When Joseph responded we could meet that night at nine, I closed my laptop and gathered my keys. I didn’t have long to get there if I wanted to have the element of surprise on Joseph. Once I was on the highway, I called Larisa, Akim’s wife. She answered on the third ring.
“Rurik,” she drawled.
“Hey, doll,” I rasped, forcing myself to keep my tone pleasant even though I’d felt anything but since Anatoly had fucking called me. “Need to use your coffee shop.”
She sighed. “I’m not cleaning up after your mess, Rurik. You better get a clean-up crew.”
My lips quirked in amusement. “Don’t I always get a clean-up crew?” I asked. “I’m a big boy, Larisa.”
She snorted, and I cracked a grin. “What time do you need it?”
“Nine, which is after closing, so it won’t interfere with your business hours,” I told her.
She scoffed. “So considerate, Rurik.” Sarcasm laced her tone. I snickered. “Sure. I’ll be in my office doing paperwork. Don’t bring the local law enforcement to my doorstep.”
“Never,” I promised.
With that, I ended the call and tossed my phone into the passenger seat.
The coffee shop was dimly lit, and I was nursing a latte when Joseph pulled into the nearly empty lot. He turned his vehicle off and stepped out, every move confident and sure. Like he was in control of how this meeting would go.
The moment he stepped inside, he would realize he wasn’t. Because I’d taken the time to hide my SUV in the back, and I’d moved Larisa’s BMW to the front of the store. If he’d taken time to run the plates, he’d realized it was owned by the coffee shop owner. It made him feel like he had the element of surprise. Like he was in control of how this meeting went.
My gun was resting on the table, and Larisa had turned off all her security cameras, even going so far as to unplug them. And since we controlled them, no security company would be calling her to bug her and try to come fix the problem.
The bell above the door jingled, and he stepped further inside, his eyes scanning the room as the door shut behind him. When his eyes landed on me, he froze, his face paling the tiniest bit. I smirked and sipped at my latte.
“If you run,” I warned as he took a step back toward the door, “I will catch you. You’re only postponing the inevitable. It was, after all, all too fucking easy to find you.” I smirked. “I’m sure you thought taking out a target like Anatoly from your apartment would give you an added bit of protection, right?” My smile dropped from my face, and I stared at him with an expression empty of anything. “But then you made the mistake of shooting the wrong mother fucker. I wasn’t stopping until I found you, Joseph White.”
Lifting the gun, I pointed it at his head. “Want to know something about me, Joseph? Whether I’m at close range or I’m shooting from the distance you shot my man at, I don’t need a laser. And I never fucking miss.”
“Wait—” he rasped as I clicked the safety off. I arched a brow at him. “I can tell you who ordered the hit.”
I snorted. “I’ll find that out in the morning,” I assured him. “I’m not here because of Anatoly Balakin, Joseph. I’m here for Malik Carter—the man you put two bullets into today.”
With that, I pulled the trigger, watching as his brain matter exploded all over the wall behind him. Larisa stepped out of the back as I set my gun down, and her face screwed up in distaste. Her upper lip curled in disgust as she looked at me. “You couldn’t have used a gun of less caliber?”
I waved my hand at the splatter. “And miss all those dramatics? No.”
She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat before spinning on her heel and going back into her office. I pulled my burner out and made the call.
Her place would be spotless in an hour, and her walls and floor would be so clean, people could fucking eat off of them in the morning when she opened.
I grabbed my cup and swallowed down the last of my latte. After tossing it into the trashcan, I made my way through the kitchen and to the back door.
It was time to get the fuck back to Shadow.