TWENTY-EIGHT - Alexei
TWENTY-EIGHT
Alexei
I adjust my shirt before walking out of the storage room, and note my men in groups with somebody taking notes. It s good to see everybody working together.
A young foot soldier named Jerry looks up at me with a shit-eating grin. That was something, he says. When s my turn?
The air instantly sharpens with cold. I cock my head. What did you say?
His smile wavers.
That s what I thought. I manacle him by the back of the neck and rip him from the chair.
I slam his face down on the table so fast, I hear a couple of gasps, and then I do it about eight more times, watching different teeth roll out of his mouth.
He tries to hit back, and I slam him so hard he goes limp.
I give him a couple more good whacks for measure and then throw him onto the ground where he bleeds onto the dirty floor.
I look around at everybody watching me. Does anybody else have anything disrespectful to say about Rosalie Mooncrest?
A younger guy finishes chomping ice next to me.
For good measure, I punch him in the face.
His chair tips over and he falls flat, grabbing his nose and rolling to the side.
From now on, no chewing ice, gum, or anything crunchy.
Ever and especially if Rosalie is around. Period. Got it? I say quietly.
A couple of the men look down at the bleeding mass at my feet, but nobody says a word. Good, I say. Rosalie is under your protection. Anybody disrespects her and they die.
Garik clears his throat. Disrespect includes chewing ice?
Yes, I growl. Anything crunchy, and if you have a fucking cold or allergies, stay away from her.
You sniff and I ll break your nose. Apparently, I m all about lessons tonight.
I walk through the throng to where Garik stands by the door.
Have them finish making the lists and then make sure they all leave, I say quietly this time.
Rosalie? he asks.
You can get her from the storage room, then take her home. I need somebody on her house all night.
I ll be there, Garik says.
I think of the men behind us. You could take shifts with somebody.
He shakes his head. I don t know who to trust yet.
I breathe deep. Thank you. It s not a word I would give to anybody else in my organization.
Of course, he says, his gaze behind me making sure no one comes at us. What about Jerry?
I shrug. I don t care. See if somebody wants to take him to the hospital. If not, toss him out back. He s moaning, so at least he s not dead.
You ve got it, Garik says.
I stride out into light rain and head to my bike around the corner.
It s not raining too hard, and I have work to do, so I ride rapidly through the city to the building I purchased earlier and nod at my man at the reception area before entering the elevator and riding to the penthouse.
The place smells like pizza. Frowning, I walk back to the office to see Ella munching happily on a slice of pepperoni.
What? she asks, frowning.
How did you get pizza?
She waves a hand. Oh, Geoff and George went and got pizza, she says. You know, the guys you have guarding the elevator in the parking garage?
I don t recall giving anybody permission to do so.
She shrugs. We have to eat, dude. There s pleasure on her face, and I doubt it s from the pizza. She s already addicted to this computer setup. While I m sure her setup is impressive, she lacks the funds I now have.
Did they both go? I ask.
She rolls her eyes. Of course not. One stayed here to guard your whole building. Did you buy the building?
I did, I say.
Huh. Ten floors, businesses on each, penthouse on the top. She nods. It s a good investment.
Thank you, I say wryly. That is my aim.
She grins and then turns back to the computer.
Have you found anything yet?
She looks at me over her shoulder as if affronted.
I hold up a hand. Sorry.
She looks back. Yeah, Howard Fissure is an asshole.
That I already knew.
She shrugs. Okay. So he runs Nero Tech, but honestly, he s been partially forced out. There was a mini takeover about six months ago.
Why is that? I stride into the room.
According to corporate emails, and maybe a couple of private ones I hacked, people think he s doing drugs, but ... She hops in her seat. This guy s involved in selling drugs.
Impressive. The little hacker should be a detective. How do you know that?
Money, offshore accounts, known associations, she says. A couple of the accounts are too hard to crack, even with these resources. My gut feeling is that he s working with several organizations and not just Twenty-One Purple.
What about his schedule?
She taps a few keys. The FBI has bugged his house, so I hacked into their surveillance.
Go on.
His routine s pretty standard. He gets up around five, jogs for three miles, gets a coffee at a stand on the corner of Fourth and Madison, goes back to his place, showers, gets ready, heads to work.
He s at the office most of the day, even though the board has taken many of his duties away, and then he may do a charity function or have a date.
I printed out a list of his known acquaintances.
She nods over to a piece of paper on the far table.
How does he distribute the drugs?
According to the FBI surveillance, he meets up with a member of Twenty-One Purple at that coffee shop once a week. It looks like happenstance, but it isn t.
I roll my neck, smelling Rosalie on me. She ll always be on me. So the feds don t have enough to bring him down?
Not yet, Ella says. They re close though.
That s good to know.
She kicks away from my desk. All right. Are we done?
Not even close, I say. Have you conducted your deep dive on Rosalie s boarders yet?
Her frown is mutinous. No, and I m not going to. I thought we established that.
Don t you want to know who Rosalie lives with? I ask. To make sure she s safe?
Ella snorts. I ve met all seven of her boarders. She s as safe as kittens. They d all jump in front of a bullet for her. Her brows draw down. Would you?
In a heartbeat. Whatever expression s on my face must satisfy her because she nods at the pizza box.
There s more if you re hungry, she says.
Is that an olive branch?
Her lips purse. I m not sure yet. The kidnapping is definitely against you. However, the offer to pay me handsomely, I m still weighing.
Good to know.
Her hands dance happily across three keyboards. You have a great setup here.
It s top of the line, I say. The woman is amusing, and I can see why she s Rosalie s friend. It s the best I could find.
She nods. I could put a couple of things together to get more juice, but yeah, whoever your source is did a good job.
I glance at my watch. According to Ella, Howard Fissure is at home right now. Tell me about Fissure s home.
Sure. She gives me the lowdown, including the security. It s not as impressive as I would ve thought. I wait until she finishes listing problems that could arise if I break in.
It occurs to me that she could be absolutely messing with me and setting me up.
But she s not that stupid. In fact, she s not stupid at all.
She has no idea what my men will do if I don t return.
Frankly, neither do I at the moment. I can t have Garik watching both Ella and Rosalie, so I have the best men I can on this building.
At the moment, Ella seems to be enjoying using my computers, so perhaps this will work out.
How would your stepmother put a hit out on you? I ask.
She jolts and then turns around. I don t know. To be honest with you, I m not quite sure how that works.
Maybe go through her attorney?
It s possible.
Any payment would be in cash, and I doubt there s a way to trace the source. I may need to talk to Reyes myself to find out. The idea of returning to the prison fires anger through me. It s probably not a good idea.
My phone buzzes, and I glance down to read a text from Garik.
GARIK: Men gone, deposited Rosalie off at home. She hit me—is definitely pissed.
I hide a smile.
ME: Where did she hit you?
GARIK: Right in the gut, low and hard. She s pissed, man.
Yeah, not mad enough to leave when everybody was still there. It s a lesson I hope she s learned.
ME: Keep an eye on her place tonight.
GARIK: No problem
I slip the phone back into my pocket.
Ella glances over her shoulder. Rosalie s going to wonder where I am.
Rosalie knows exactly where you are, I say calmly.
Ella s eyes widen. You told her?
I shake my head. She figured it out. She is not happy.
The smile Ella flashes is full of warning. You don t know Rosalie when she s not happy. This might actually be fun. She turns back to the keyboard and starts rapidly typing.
I turn and stride out of the room and through the empty penthouse. I don t have enough men I trust to be here with her, and she can t leave anyway. My men control the elevators, and I trust my guy in the control room.
Where are you off to? she yells.
Business, I say, opening the door and then shutting it. It s time to take care of Harold Fissure. Just as I reach the elevator, my phone buzzes and I lift it to my ear. Sokolov.
Hey, it s Percy. The guy sounds like he s yelling.
My breath heats. I can hear you, Percy. You don t need to bellow. Is Rosie okay?
She s fine, but I arranged a meeting for you with Alexander Ivanov and Andre Vasiliev for tonight.
I ride the elevator down and stride toward my motorcycle, my brain automatically calculating what I know of alliances within the organization. Those two men have the largest families and the most connections out of the entire local Bratva. Are you setting me up, Percy?
Of course not. I could, but I m not, he says. They know about your impromptu meeting today with lower-level members of the organization. They re willing to meet with you and discuss coming on board.
I straddle the bike. Why?
Percy coughs. They haven t been paid in a little while.
I pause. Are you kidding me?