Chapter 18Zane
18
Zane
M onroe needs time to cool down, and I need to find out everything I can about Maksim and his new business. If I don’t get to him before the police do, he’s going to end up back in prison.
I won’t let him off the hook that easily. Jail would be too easy for a moron like him. He might even enjoy himself there, playing checkers and taking advantage of the medical care as he approaches old age.
I won’t let him live long enough to enjoy anything but his last cigar. I own the keys to this city, but I’ll burn it to the ground myself if it means getting rid of Maksim. This just got terribly personal.
Kiro meets me with four of our men outside the business supposedly leased by Maksim. It’s an unassuming brick building in the middle of downtown, far too corporate to arouse suspicion of being anything but another boring faceless office. It makes me wonder how the police sniffed this place out as a potential weapons trafficking spot.
Either Maksim is selling guns to angry businessmen who just got laid off, or someone in his ranks is a rat. If it’s the latter, I’d like to know who it is. They could lead me straight to him and end this on a Tuesday afternoon.
“Tema sent a messenger to the office this morning,” Kiro grunts as we walk along the side of the building.
“That’s news I should’ve been given when it happened,” I say, feeling a prickle of heat on the back of my neck. “What did he say?”
“Not much. He asked a few questions about the package, to which I answered that we had everything. Then, he left,” Kiro explains.
“Not the worst outcome,” I mutter. “I do wish that Tema would call me himself instead of sending people all the time. AT least they got the address correct this time.”
“Not much to do at the other one,” Kiro replies with a chuckle.
Another prickle of heat on the back of my neck, but I’m sensible enough to ignore it. It's time to examine Maksim's business before someone starts wondering why a bunch of men in suits are circling the ground floor.
I leave a watchman out front, circling around back with Kiro and the other men. There's a rolling garage door in the back, which is unusual for an office building. My guess is that they're loading vehicles with firearms directly from this place, which is a bold move to make in the middle of downtown.
Maksim believes that being bold makes him better. He likes to show off, but that's the very reason why I have the upper hand on him. If you bang on your chest and scream into the wind, eventually you're going to get hit by a bullet from someone who is tired of the noise.
"Let's break the lock," I say, crouching next to the garage door.
"With pleasure," Kiro replies. His hand grips the padlock and he yanks on it. It breaks, flying out of the loop that held it closed and landing a few feet away on the ground. I'm impressed by his strength, but then again, that's why he's my right-hand man.
I grab the garage door, rolling it up. Inside is a storage room with a few boxes and crates stacked against the wall. They're labeled in Russian, and the letters are the same ones on the flash drive.
"It's not much," Kiro observes, stepping inside and looking around. "I'd imagine the real merchandise is somewhere else after the police caught wind of this place."
"Yes, of course," I reply, kicking one of the boxes. "He's an idiot, but he's not a total moron. Maybe we'll find something else, though."
"Like what?" he asks as the other men come in.
"Anything," I grumble. "And then we burn the place down. We'll give him a taste of his own medicine."
Kiro gives me a funny look, and the men exchange glances.
"Sir, with all due respect, that might not be the best idea. We don't want to make ourselves too obvious," Kiro says. "The police already know about this. They'll be down here in a heartbeat."
"I said... burn it to the fucking ground. Live a little. Have some fun," I reply, thumping his chest with the back of my fist.
He smirks. "Well, when you put it like that. I can have the guys go and grab some gas and a few matches. Maybe a blanket to get the fire going."
"No need," I reply, matching his smirk with one of my own. "I already brought everything we need."
"Then let's get this party started," he says.
I turn and walk back outside. We're far enough away from the main road that no one will notice, and even if they do, there's nothing here that can tie us to this crime. The police will think that Maksim did it to hide what he was doing here, but Maksim will know that I was behind it. I don't want my little friend to go to jail. I want him dead.
Once the men have emptied the boxes and searched the area to no avail, we drag a bundle of old bedsheet and a can of gasoline inside to get the fire started. It feels like setting up a haunted house, tossing the sheets over everything, but the intoxicating smell of fresh gas tells another story.
Once everything is in place, I order the men out, and I let Kiro have the honor of lighting the first match. It's long one that I use for the candles at home, capable of burning for almost a minute before the fire eats at the end of the matchstick and burns your fingers. Kiro almost breaks it when he strikes it against the box.
Gas is a bit explosive when lit, so only a moment after the match is tossed into the building do the flames burst through the windows and start crawling up the sides.
It's beautiful, but I can't stand around admiring our work. We have to get out of here before someone calls the police. Plus, I want to get home before Monroe gets herself in trouble. There's no telling what she might be up to with free reign of my house.