Chapter 34 Alexei
Alexei
Three weeks in this bunker, and I feel like a caged animal.
I walk the edges of the main room while Dmitri sits at the conference table reviewing security reports. Mila is in what has become her father’s room, and they’re both on the phone with her mother.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” Dmitri comments without looking up from his tablet.
“We can’t stay down here forever,” I complain. “She’s going to go insane, and I’m going to follow her.”
“No one’s suggesting forever, but rushing out before we have a solid plan gets people killed.”
I stop stalking and kick my foot up behind me on the wall as a brace. “Novikov’s still out there. We’ve eliminated three of his safe houses, disrupted two supply chains, and frozen accounts in four countries. He should be scrambling by now.”
“He is scrambling,” my brother confirms. “That’s what makes him dangerous. Cornered rats bite hardest.”
“Then we need to stop cornering him and start eliminating him.”
“Patience—”
“Fuck patience. Mila’s pregnant and living in a concrete box. Her sister’s in protective custody. Her father can’t walk without wincing. How much longer are we supposed to wait for the perfect moment?”
Dmitri sets down his tablet and steeples his fingers, giving me his full attention. “What do you propose?”
“I propose we stop playing defense and go on offense. Real offense. Not these surgical strikes that chip away at his resources. I’m talking about ending this once and for all.”
“You want to kill him.”
I slice my hand through the air and growl. “I want him gone, whether that’s dead, in prison, or exiled to Siberia. This needs to be over before Mila has this baby.”
My brother smirks as he squints at me. “You’ve changed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A year ago, you would have already made the move. You wouldn’t have consulted anyone, just acted. Fatherhood is making you soft.”
“Fatherhood is making me smart,” I retort, tapping my skull before I push off the wall and drop into the chair across from him. “I have more to lose now. That doesn’t make me soft, it makes me careful.”
Dmitri pokes out his bottom lip and nods. “Careful is good, but we still need to be decisive when the moment comes.”
“I know that. Why do you think I’m in here planning instead of out there executing?”
Dmitri slides a folder across the table. “These are our assets. People who owe us favors. Organizations that would benefit from Novikov’s removal. Law enforcement contacts who might look the other way if the timing is right.”
I flip through the pages and recognize most of the names. Some are reliable; others are question marks. A few are outright liabilities.
“This is what we’re working with?”
“This is what we have that won’t get us killed or arrested. The pool of trustworthy allies shrinks considerably when you’re talking about taking out someone like Novikov.”
“What about the St. Petersburg Bratva? Yevgeny’s been sniffing around since the wedding.”
“Yevgeny Lebedev called yesterday. Wanted to know if we needed additional resources.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“That we’d consider it and get back to him.” Dmitri drums his fingers on the table. “Lebedev doesn’t offer help without strings. If we accept his assistance, we owe him, and that debt could be worse than the current situation.”
He’s right. Yevgeny controls most of St. Petersburg’s underworld and has tried to expand his influence in Moscow for years. Owing him would give him the foothold he’s been looking for, but having him as an enemy would be even worse.
“Put him on the ‘maybe’ list. What about law enforcement?”
“That’s where things get tricky.” Dmitri pulls up something on his tablet and turns it to face me.
“According to Katya’s contacts, FSB has been asking questions.
Not directly, but through channels. They want to know what we know about Novikov’s operations since Novikov began dealing with foreign intelligence services.
He’s been selling information to the highest bidder.
Military secrets. Government contracts. Things that cross into national security. ”
I lean forward. “How solid is this intel?”
“Solid enough that three sources confirmed it independently. Novikov’s no longer just a crime boss. He’s a traitor.”
The implications hit me hard. If the government wants him eliminated for national security reasons, we might have cover for the operation. But it also means we’re playing in much deeper waters than I anticipated.
“This is bigger than I thought.”
“Much bigger,” Dmitri confirms with a curt nod. “Some of our contacts think we should coordinate with the FSB. Let them handle the heavy lifting while we clean up the criminal side.”
“What do you think?”
Dmitri closes the case around his tablet. “I think the moment we involve government agencies, we lose control of the narrative. They’ll want to know how we know what we know, and a guarantee that we’re not also selling secrets.”
“We’re not.”
“But can we prove it? Can we prove that every operation we’ve run for the past five years has been domestic? That none of our foreign contacts have ties to intelligence services?”
He’s asking the right questions. The ones I’ve been avoiding because I don’t like the answers.
“No. We can’t prove that.”
“Exactly. So, involving the FSB is a risk. It might eliminate Novikov, but it could also put us under investigation. Or worse.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “What’s the alternative?”
“We handle it ourselves. Quietly. Make it look like natural causes or an accident. Something that doesn’t invite scrutiny.”
“That’s harder to pull off with someone like Novikov. He’s paranoid and surrounded by security. He doesn’t go anywhere without a small army.”
“Which is why we need time to plan.” Dmitri stands and walks to the small kitchen area. Pours two glasses of vodka and brings them back to the table.
I take the offered glass and down half of it. The burn helps to clear my head.
“Fuck,” I grumble. “I need to give her a life worth staying for. That means ending this threat and creating some semblance of normalcy.”
“Normalcy.” Dmitri snorts out a laugh. “We’re Russian mafia, Alexei. Normalcy isn’t exactly our specialty.”
“Then we fake it until she believes it.”
He refills both glasses. “You love her.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “Yeah. I do.”
“Does she know?”
“She knows I care. But the actual words?” I shake my head. “I’m working on it.”
“Work faster. Women need to hear these things.”
I flip him off, and he grins.
The door opens, and Boris sticks his head in. “Sergei’s here. Says it’s urgent.”
Dmitri and I exchange glances. If he’s here in person instead of calling without having been summoned, something significant has happened.
“Send him in,” Dmitri orders with a wave.
Sergei enters with tension written across his face. He’s one of our most reliable men, and he looks worried.
I gesture to the empty chair. “Sit. Tell us what’s wrong now.”
Sergei sits but doesn’t relax. “Just got word that Novikov has someone on the payroll at the station. Someone high enough up to access protected information.”
“How high up?” Dmitri asks.
“Captain level. Maybe higher. My contact says files have been accessed that shouldn’t be. Witness protection details, safe house locations, and movement logs for people in custody.”
I swallow hard to suppress a gasp. “Does Boris know?”
“Not yet. This is coming from outside his department, but it’s close enough that whoever Novikov bought could track Boris’ activities, and maybe even compromise him.
We’ve already pulled Boris back from active operations.
Let’s keep him here in the bunker with limited access until we can vet everyone in his unit.
Can’t risk the mole tracking his movements or intercepting his communications. ”
Dmitri asks, “How solid is this intel?”
“Solid enough that three separate sources confirmed it independently. Novikov’s been bleeding money into the station for months. We just didn’t know who he bought until now.”
I launch to my feet. “This changes everything.”
“It accelerates the timeline,” Dmitri agrees. “If Novikov has access to police intel, he knows where our people are, and that we’re planning something. He might even know about this location.”
“The bunker’s clean,” I assure him. “This place was set up off-book, but anything Boris touches from here on out could be compromised. From this moment on, Novikov is priority one. We can’t fight a war when the enemy knows our every move.
Let’s take him out first, then worry about cleaning up the mess at the station. ”
Sergei shifts his weight forward. “Going after Novikov with a compromised police contact is going to bring heat you can’t imagine. No cover if things go sideways.”
I cross my arms. “We’re out of good choices. Now we’re just picking the least-terrible option.”
Dmitri nods and adds, “I’ll reach out to our contacts and see who can help without going through official channels.”
“What about Lebedev?” I ask.
“What about him?”
“Yevgeny offered resources. Maybe it’s time to accept.”
“That’s a big step. Owing the St. Petersburg Bratva—”
“I know what it means. But if the alternative is getting blindsided because Novikov knows our every move, I’ll take my chances with Yevgeny.”
Sergei stands. “I should go. Need to keep gathering intel without tipping off whoever Novikov bought.”
“Keep us informed,” Dmitri instructs. “Any new developments, we need to know immediately.”
“Understood.”
After Sergei leaves, my brother and I sit in silence for several minutes. The weight of the decisions we’re making settles over the room.
“We need to tell Boris,” I finally state. “He deserves to know his department has been compromised.”
“Agreed. But carefully. If whoever Novikov bought is watching Boris, we can’t give them any indication that we know.”
“Then we don’t make mistakes.”
Dmitri raises his glass. “To not making mistakes.”
I clink my glass against his. “And to ending this shit show for good.”
We drink, and I try not to think about how many things could go wrong. Try not to imagine Mila raising our child alone because I got killed or arrested trying to protect her.
But the fear is there. It’s always there, reminding me that in this world, happy endings are rare and usually temporary.
I just need this one to last long enough for my child to have a father.