Chapter 6
2 1 :47 glowed on the surveillance monitor as Reuben’s black Audi pulled into Dmitrii’s underground parking.
Nikon’s fingers tapped against his office desk, ticking in rhythm with his pulse. Three security feeds sprawled across the monitors before him. Two monitors showed weapons storage facilities he now had access to after the family had integrated their security systems last week. And one monitor fixed on the entrance to Dmitrii’s poker room—a live feed being transmitted by one of Nikon’s men positioned in a hidden unmarked van across the street from Dmitrii’s establishment.
On the screen, Reuben stepped out of his car, adjusting his tailored jacket before heading toward the entrance. Even through the grainy footage, his confidence showed in every step.
Nikon’s jaw clenched. He should focus on the weapons storage facilities where shipments had gone missing recently. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on Reuben until he disappeared through Dmitrii’s front door.
Behind Nikon, metal creaked on metal as the office door opened. Grigorii filled the doorframe. “I’ve been reviewing the shipping manifests.” Grigorii walked straight in and placed a thin folder on Nikon’s desk. “You’ll want to see this yourself.”
Nikon’s gaze flickered between the file and the monitor where Reuben had vanished. “What did you find?”
“Take a look.” Grigorii sat in the chair across from him, his scarred face grim. He opened the folder, revealing a series of surveillance photos. “Three different locations. Check the timestamps.”
The images showed their weapons caches, each photographed hours before being hit. Nikon spread them across his desk, his throat tightening as he saw the pattern. “They knew exactly when to move.”
“Someone’s feeding them more than just our shipment routes.” Grigorii’s finger struck once against the armrest. “First the whales start disappearing from your poker rooms, now this. Someone who knows everything about our operation is selling us out piece by piece.”
The security feed caught Nikon’s eye again. Still no sign of Reuben emerging. Twenty minutes had passed.
“Look at the pattern.” Grigorii leaned forward, his chair groaning under the shift in weight. “These weren’t random hits.”
“How many people had the schedules?” Nikon moved to the window overlooking the city. His reflection stared back, shadows under his eyes.
“That’s the problem.” Grigorii’s voice lowered. “Only family and the inner circle knew about all three locations.”
The word ‘ family ’ twisted in Nikon’s gut. He’d sent Reuben to gather intelligence on Dmitrii, but what if the danger was closer to home? What if he’d put Reuben at risk while the real threat was within their own ranks?
“We need to track every detail,” Nikon said. “The shipments, who had access, where it could have leaked.”
Grigorii’s nod reflected in the window. His gaze drifted to the security feed. “How long has your boy been in there with Dmitrii?”
Nikon turned from the window, muscles tight as he side-stepped the question. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“He’d better.” Grigorii’s scar pulled tight. “We’ve got to get information on our enemies now more than ever.” His finger tapped the surveillance photos. “Three separate facilities. Different crews, different schedules. Only overlap is timing with each hit within hours of a move.”
The monitor caught Nikon’s eye again. No movement at Dmitrii’s entrance. Ten minutes since Reuben’s last check-in. Everything was fine. Had to be fine. “That’s why we need whatever intel Reuben can get. If Dmitrii’s behind both the weapons and the casino hits...”
“You know,” Grigorii’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood, “if Dmitrii is behind the weapons leak, then sending Reuben in there alone...”
“He’s not alone.” The words came out sharper than intended. “I have men watching the building.”
“The same men who were watching our shipments?”
Nikon spread the photos across his desk, studying faces in the background, searching for anything familiar. A flash of movement on the monitor drew his attention once again. But it was just a valet parking a car.
“Andrey’s crew handled security for the second facility.” Grigorii’s voice was carefully neutral.
“You think our own brother—”
“I think we need to look at everyone. Even family.”
Grigorii’s gaze met Nikon’s. No need to say the name. Of their four brothers, only Andrey had become the wild card, his moves growing more erratic by the day.
The timestamp on the monitor showed another five minutes had passed.
“He’s been... more subdued lately.” Nikon kept his voice steady, professional. “Acting... differently, during meetings. Questioning decisions.”
“Questioning your decisions, you mean?”
The monitor showed a group of men entering Dmitrii’s club. None of them moved like Reuben.
Thirty-eight minutes now.
Grigorii moved toward the door. “I still have more contacts at the port that I can talk to.” Grigorii’s face hardened, the meaning clear. Someone would bleed tonight. “I’ll find out what they know about the buyers. You...” He jutted a chin at the security feed. “You should call him.”
“He’ll check in when he can.”
Grigorii’s hand rested on the door handle. His mouth thinned as he studied Nikon. Then he released a low grunt—the same sound he made before ending problems permanently.
The door closed behind him. Nikon’s phone sat on the desk, silent. The timestamp on the monitor clicked forward another minute.
Nikon unlocked his bottom drawer and pulled out a half-empty bottle of whiskey. The glass clinked against the bottle as he poured, his hand steady despite the tension coiling in his chest. Forty-two minutes since Reuben entered Dmitrii’s club.
His phone remained silent. No check-in from Reuben.
The plan was simple: maintain cover, no contact unless necessary. Nikon had set these rules himself. But Grigorii’s warning gnawed at him. If Dmitrii was behind the weapons leak...
Nikon’s fingers found Reuben’s number in his contacts. He stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the call button. One call could blow Reuben’s cover story. Or one call could save his life.
The monitor showed a car arriving at Dmitrii’s. It carried four men Nikon didn’t recognize. His gut twisted as they entered the club. Forty-eight minutes now.
The whiskey glass hit the desk harder than intended. Protocol existed for a reason. Reuben was smart, brilliant at reading people, as well as catching details others missed. He’d recognize danger if he saw it.
But would he see it in time?
Nikon studied the surveillance photos once more. The timestamp on the second facility’s hit aligned with Andrey’s supply run. His youngest brother had been pushing to expand their weapons trade lately, demanding riskier moves and higher profits.
The same way he’d pushed to expand the poker rooms before Reuben arrived. The same way he’d questioned every decision about Reuben since.
The monitor showed no movement at Dmitrii’s entrance. Fifty-two minutes. Nikon’s phone remained silent.
He opened his messages, typed: “ Status? ” His thumb hovered over ‘send.’ Texting Reuben now meant showing weakness. Showing he didn’t trust Reuben to handle himself.
The whiskey glass was empty. The monitor showed nothing but shadows and parked cars. Fifty-five minutes.
Nikon deleted the message. Poured another drink. Checked his phone again.
Nothing.
A new figure appeared on the monitor. Nikon leaned forward, the glass freezing halfway to his lips. Not Reuben. Just another of Dmitrii’s regulars heading inside.
The door opened behind him. Nikon kept his eyes on the feed. “If this is about the shipping manifests, Grigorii, I’m already—”
“Always so dedicated to work,” Andrey’s voice sliced through the room.
Nikon’s hand moved casually to cover the surveillance photos scattered across his desk. “Late night for you.”
“For both of us.” Andrey drifted closer, his reflection appearing in the monitors’ glow. “Though only one of us seems more interested in watching a single poker room than handling a major security breach.”
“What do you want?”
“Come on, what’s with that tone? Can’t a concerned brother simply check in on family?” Andrey perched on the edge of the desk, deliberately casual. “Especially when that family seems... distracted.”
One hour and fourteen minutes since Reuben entered Dmitrii’s club.
“The weapons shipments—”
“Apparently can wait, huh?” Andrey picked up one of the surveillance photos before Nikon could stop him. “Besides, what’s a few missing caches compared to Dmitrii’s new poker operation? That’s the real threat, isn’t it?”
On the monitor, another car pulled up to Dmitrii’s entrance.
“Or maybe,” Andrey continued, studying the photo with exaggerated interest, “it’s not the poker room that has you worried. Maybe it’s who’s inside.”
Nikon’s phone buzzed. A text from Reuben:
“Made it out. He took the bait. Tell you everything when I C U.”
Relief flooded through him, but he kept his expression neutral as he turned to his brother. “If you have concerns about business decisions—”
“Business?” Andrey laughed, the sound sharp and cold. “Like these business decisions?” He tossed the photo onto the desk. “Funny how our shipments keep disappearing right when we need leverage against Dmitrii.” His eyes gleamed in the monitor’s glow. “Almost like someone wants us distracted while he builds his empire.”
The feed showed Reuben emerging from the club, but Andrey wasn’t finished.
“You know what’s really interesting?” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “How your pretty boy always seems to know exactly which whales to target. Which ones to bleed dry, which ones to let win? I always assumed you were feeding him the information.” His smile turned cruel. “But maybe he’s feeding someone else.”
“Careful .” The word came out like a blade being unsheathed.
“Why? Afraid I’ll say what everyone’s thinking? That you’re so busy protecting your pet project, you can’t see he’s playing both sides?” Andrey shifted off the table, the metallic zipper of his designer track jacket catching the blue light from the monitors. “Or maybe you do see it, and you just don’t care.”
Nikon watched Reuben’s car pull away on the monitor, fighting to keep his hands steady.
“Tell me, Nikon.” Andrey wandered over to the door. “When Dmitrii finally makes his move, whose bed will your pretty boy be warming?”
The door closed before Nikon could respond. On the monitor, Reuben’s taillights disappeared into the night.
Nikon opened his drawer, slipped the surveillance photos inside, and locked it. Tomorrow, he’d hear Reuben’s report. But tonight, he just needed Reuben home safe.
The monitor showed Dmitrii’s empty parking lot. One hour and thirty-two minutes.
End of surveillance.