Chapter 28
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
ANDREI
Trailing behind Leo, I keep my gun at my side, alert for any sounds or movements around us. We are creeping along the perimeters of a long-forgotten industrial warehouse close to the Newark airport, where Oleg has stowed his latest shipment of illegal weapons.
My family doesn’t deal in arms trafficking, preferring white collar cybercrime that comes with way less red tape and political machinations, and much more profit.
But I’m not fucking around anymore. Taking over this shipment is the first of many injustices I have planned to make sure Oleg’s legacy dies with him.
Which is going to be very fucking soon if I have my way.
I am out to destroy Oleg Antonov anyway I can.
And that means taking over each and every racket that he controls.
When we walk away today, this warehouse and everything in it will be ours.
Moving forward, my organization will be the primary contact for arms into the U.S.
I’ve met with the Nigerians and the Saudis and we’ve come to an understanding that I now control arms trafficking all along the east coast.
Today is both payback, and a message tied up with one bloody bow.
“Exterior guards have been taken out,” Leo murmurs. He pulls the Glock out of his holster, checks the chamber, and keeps it in hand. “We’re good to go in.”
“Let’s move,” I say, ready for action. Craving it. With the Antonovs, revenge is personal and I want to get my hands dirty.
The warehouse is a wide-open cavernous space.
I didn’t expect the goods to be displayed so prominently, but aisles of metal racks are piled high with smuggled submachine guns, assault rifles, and heavy machine guns—whatever goodies the latest shipment brought in from Liberia.
Crouching low, we take cover in the dark outer edges of the room.
It’s the center that’s lit up, a dangling light fixture shining down on the brigadiers like a spotlight.
Weapons are spread out on the table in front of the three bozos, all of them smoking and talking in rapid fire Russian, excited about something or other.
They’re relaxed, no sense that danger is imminent, no prickle on the back of their neck to alert them that predators lie in wait.
Even the four guards—one in each corner of the room—look bored.
I stay behind Leo as we army crawl deeper into the room, still bathed in the shadows.
Daniil and Yulian are positioned on the roof, providing intel and cover.
The rest of my men are fanned out in a tactical position around the premises, including on the opposite end of this room.
We have the warehouse surrounded, though Oleg’s men don’t know it yet.
Leo holds up three fingers, then two, then one. It’s showtime.
Chaos erupts around me as my men step out of the shadows and into the light, each one focused on a different target.
My elbow meets the nose of the guard beside me.
He’s practically a kid, but that doesn’t stop me from slamming bone into his brain.
He goes slack in my arms, but I hold his body tight to mine, using his girth as a shield as gunfire explodes around me.
With a tortured cry, another guard lunges towards me, but I don’t give him time to do any damage. Tossing the dead guard, I pull a gun from behind my back, shooting my attacker in his right shoulder. He drops his gun, grabbing his arm and howling in pain as I tower over him.
“Not so fast, my friend.” Fear flashes in his eyes as he looks straight at me. “I just want to make sure that you send our regards to your bratva friends. Oh wait, you won’t be around long enough to do that. Too fucking bad,” I say, pulling the trigger. This time, I hit him square between his eyes.
Leo is at my side, head tilted towards the door as I drop this idiot like a sack of potatoes. “The room is clear. Let’s go.”
“That’s all?” I frown. It was barely two-minutes of fun, but we sure accomplished a hell of a lot in those two minutes. Bodies litter the room, all of them loyal to Oleg. At least there's that.
We step out into the cover of night, Leo next to me, gun at the ready for any surprises. I quickly reload my pistol, not wanting to take any chances. Someone hiding in wait is entirely possible. But all remains quiet.
I’ve left my best soldiers in charge of seizing the building and confiscating the arms on-site. The Kozlovs are now officially arms dealers.
“Oleg is losing his touch. That job was child’s play,” Leo says, disappointment coating his words as he slides behind the steering wheel of the armored Land Rover. Moments later Daniil opens the backdoor and joins us in the vehicle.
“Well, that was fun.” He leans between the two front-seats with a feral smile on his face.
Leo screeches out into the night as I take one final look back at the warehouse that is now ours. Kozlov property.
Perverse satisfaction fills me. I’m one step closer to seeing Oleg Antonov and his empire burn.
Back in our office, we’re still hopped up on the high that comes with a successful mission, even one as dead easy as taking over the Antonovs’ arms warehouse.
Leo lifts his shot glass and clinks it against my own. “Za zdаrovie,” he says. “To Papa’s memory.”
“To rebuilding his empire,” Daniil adds, downing the shot.
“Fuck that. To building our own empire.” I relish the burn as the liquid slips down my throat, slamming down the glass on the table. “What did Papa do for us?” Bitterness tinges my words, an old wound opened after learning the circumstances around our mother’s death.
Leo sighs into his drink, and Daniil shakes his head, but proceeds with his shot. I won’t leave the issue alone.
“Are you just going to ignore what we learned? He didn’t protect her, not like he should have.” A knife twists as the memory of my mother’s listless body swaying on the rope. It’s a vision that will haunt me till the end of my days.
“There’s no mercy in this world, Andrei. You should know that better than anyone.” Daniil spins the empty glass in his hand. “Papa did what he had to do, but he was hurting just as much as we all were. If you need to direct your anger anywhere, look no further than Oleg Antonov.”
A growl escapes my throat. “Papa could have told us earlier about Kira. He could have helped find her. He kept the secret for over twenty years and did nothing, didn’t tell us we have a sister being raised by our enemy.” I throw my glass against the wall, anger bubbling inside of me.
The irony isn’t lost on me. The day Oleg killed our father, we learned he sired and raised our sister. Now tell me that’s not fucked up.
It has meant leaving Oleg alive while we try to untangle the twisted web of our family tree.
We’ve spent every day since this revelation trying to hunt down our sister.
All we know is that she’s twenty-one and was raised in Russia until the age of five.
After that, the trail goes cold. No matter who her father is, Kira shares our blood, and she deserves a place in the Kozlov family fold, if that's what she wants.
“He buried the truth with our mother and continued to live a lie. He should have obliterated Oleg years earlier. Instead, he just pretended it never happened.”
Silence hangs heavily between us like an anvil. They know I’m right, no matter how quick they are to defend our father. He didn’t kill Oleg when he had the chance, and in the end, Oleg killed him. Simply because he could.
Daniil curses under his breath, a frown pulling at his lips.
“It would have meant a full on mafia war, one I don’t think the American authorities would have taken too kindly to.
Papa didn’t want war. By the end he just wanted peace.
He was tired, Andrei, tired of this life. We are finishing the job now.”
“He’s right, brat. The past is the past.” Leo stands and wanders over to the grimy window overlooking desolate railway tracks.
“The only thing we can control is what comes next. And that is something we need to discuss.” Leo flicks a serious look in my direction.
“Word is Oleg is rallying his troops, bringing in allies from Russia. He’ll soon crawl up from the sewer he is hiding under, and rumors are that he’ll want his trusted people back under his command.
I’m sure Oleg’s plotting his revenge against us, especially after tonight.
This is the time to send Georgia back to him. ”
The floor falls out from under me. The plan was always to send Georgia in to help us find Kira before killing Oleg once and for all. I knew this day was coming, but now that it’s real, the idea sends bile into my throat.
I can feel my jaw clenching hard. “What do you suggest?”
“Talk to her. She needs to know that she’ll be put into play in the next few days.”
My brother’s eye me keenly. They know what’s been going on with Georgia; we haven’t been hiding it.
For the last two weeks, she’s been mine day and night.
She’s leached into my soul, burrowed deep into my very being.
I never asked for this connection, this desperate need and wanting, but I can’t let it distract me from the ultimate goal.
In the end, I hope she’s strong enough to walk away from me and this dark world. She deserves her freedom more than anything.
Daniil tilts his head, his mouth tightening. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but you know as well as we do that this is our best chance at finding Kira. We have the perfect pawn. Now we have to play the game.”
“Don’t fucking call her a pawn.” The harsh words are out of my mouth before I can think better of it.
“For chrissake, maybe for once we can rise above what’s expected of us.
” The fires of hell await the Kozlov brothers in the afterlife; we’ve done things, seen things, committed deeds that there is no seeking redemption from.
But the overwhelming possession I feel towards Georgia makes me pause when it comes to offering her up on a platter to Satan himself. “There has to be another way.”
“Not to do everything we want to accomplish.” Leo looks at me. Assessing. Weighing. “If this was just about burning Oleg’s empire to the ground, we’d do that without help. But this is more delicate than that. We need access, information that only someone on the inside could provide.”
A volatile energy bounces between us, my heart slamming in my throat. She’s my weakness. I know it and they know it, but it doesn’t mean I have to give into it. This is about learning the truth of our mother’s death and reconnecting with family. Our blood.
Nothing is as important as finding Kira, I remind myself. Nothing. Even Georgia.
“I’ll prepare Georgia to get into play over the next few days,” I assure them. My brother’s nod solemnly, as if they know what this is costing me—but they know shit, because giving up Georgia feels like fire burning under my skin.