Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Katya
The home office in St Petersburg is a trash pile. The walls are yellow from years of cigarette smoke. We have one secretary, Marguerite, one wire tap guy, George, and our boss who collects all the info and transmits our intel to the CIA. Including Markus and me, it brings our team to a grand total of five. Five of us trying to keep the streets safe from Majesty. I kinda feel like the odds are stacked against us.
Leaning over Marguerite’s desk, I read the transcripts from the recent tapped calls. From what we can tell, there’s this looming overlord shadow figure called The Deviant trying to get Majesty spread around the world. He’s new to the scene, trying to worm his way into the St. Petersburg crime scene, which has been well established for years. The Koslovs, Dimitri’s family, have been at war with the Smirnov family for generations. There was a third family in the Bratva borscht, but they were wiped out years ago and Sveti was the only survivor. Besides always talking in code, the Smirnov family are sexist, homophobic asshats. At least I never get that vibe from the Koslovs. Otherwise why would they be so accepting of Uri?
But both crime families are on The Deviant’s payroll, or at least that’s what our intel is telling us. Apparently decades of hatred can be put to the side if there’s enough money to go around.
The door creaks open and George walks in. I know it’s him because he always smells like hand sanitizer and soap. But suddenly there’s a THWACK on my ass.
“What the fuck!” I spin around and grab George’s right hand. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head. Why are only gross men hitting on me?
George stammers, “Oh shit, Katie, I’m so sorry.” I let go of his wrist but glare at him like my eyes could turn into heat-seeking missiles ready to blow at any second. “I thought you were my girlfriend. She kinda looks like you.”
“And what the hell is she doing in a secure building?”
He shrugs. “Bringing me lunch?”
Jesus, the world is doomed.
My boss walks in, bringing his coffee mug to his lips. “Any new updates? Are the Smirnovs retaliating against the Koslov’s for killing Viktor?” He glares at me. “Markus’s little kill shot could launch another war, especially since Uri is taking the credit.”
“No, the Smirnovs are laying low,” I tell him. “But there’s a shipment of something coming in tomorrow night. Could be Majesty. And in other news, I’ve been asked to bartend for the Koslovs at the time of docking. There’s a small family party and I guess the rich can’t pour their own drinks.”
My boss nods. “Ok, we’ll send Markus to the docks to check everything out.”
“Any word from the Agency?”
“There’s talks of an interagency task force if we fuck up—CIA, DEA, and FBI working to keep it from crossing the borders. It’s a lot of multilayered dick swinging, so please don’t fuck this up.” He frowns and takes another sip of coffee. “I don’t know how I can even breathe in those meetings with all the ego and bullshit.”
Just my daily reminder that what I do is important and I’m a good person and toxic behavior is just a side effect of my profession. Yep. Just keep repeating that to yourself.
“So don’t fuck up?”
“Yep.”
“And why does George get to bring his girlfriend here?”
My boss shrugs and turns back into his office. “She brings soup.”
Cool, so I’m risking my life, going undercover, but our entire safety protocol can be blown for good soup. Good to know.
Marguerite adds, “And bread.”
Awesome.