Chapter 2 - Anton #3
Jesus. The back of my neck heats, the crisp collar of my shirt scraping against it abrasively. “I don’t.”
“How long has it been going on?” Valentin asks.
“My brigadier—”
“Your cousin.”
“—informed me at breakfast that there’s been a series of leaks over the past two weeks to other gangs. Have you not noticed any interceptions of your shipments?”
Trifon’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t answer.
“Anastasia explained that the leaks have featured trade routes, shipment schedules, and even contacts. She believes selling to other gangs is a smokescreen and it’s one big bidder that’ll likely become a problem.”
The sound of Valentin’s laugh grits my teeth. “And what makes you so sure your cousin isn’t the mole?”
I can’t even call it a mistake to have come here. It had been a choice—even if it’s one that I find myself regretting now. How the fuck am I the one being interrogated right now? “Because she isn’t.”
“You would’ve said the same about Viktor last year.”
“No. I wouldn’t have,” I say, forcing myself to remain calm.
It is surprisingly difficult. I can’t decide what incenses me more: the unwarranted jabs against Stasi or the mention of my traitorous half-brother.
“Anastasia isn’t Viktor. She’s my most trusted soldier, yes, and my dearest friend besides that.
I grew up with her. Viktor and I don’t share your brotherhood.
This isn’t a secret. But Anastasia and I do.
I trust her implicitly. And I didn’t have to bring her intel to you. Don’t forget that.”
At the gust of his sigh, my head turns towards Trifon. “No, you did not,” he acquiesces. “And it’s appreciated.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “It certainly doesn’t fucking seem like it.”
“Given the position you hold, Anton, surely you understand why we must do our due diligence,” Trifon says.
“Due diligence? Yes. But who the fuck are you—” I glare at Valentin Yuri.
“—to insult my intelligence? Didn’t your little sister run from your clutches to my door last year?
It’s me she came to, to ask about Viktor’s new address.
Don’t you ever forget that I could’ve done to her what you did to Viktor.
I could’ve dispensed with them both to make it even cleaner-cut.
And I didn’t. I forged an alliance with your fucking family, and I’ve done nothing but honor it since.
Where the fuck do you get off accusing me of anything? ”
I don’t even care anymore that my patience has dwindled almost entirely.
My frustration colors every word. Yet every word rings true.
It feels like only yesterday that Nadya Yuri had stormed into my office, like a bat out of hell, and sat across from me like she was the mafia boss.
Instead of punishing her audacity, I’d helped her and fucking Viktor get their happy ending.
Maybe that had been my first mistake.
“Is that a threat?” Valentin challenges, taking a step towards me.
Trifon rises to his feet, then, at last. His hand shoves Valentin’s chest, forcing him back. “Enough.”
I look into Valentin’s eyes. I allow him to look into mine.
“Before you accuse me of being the mole next, as I’m sure you’re about to, just stop.
I don’t know if it’s a group or one person.
But if it were a group, I suspect the leaks would be more catastrophic.
There’s strength in numbers. Trade routes?
Shipping schedules? These have the potential to hurt our bottom lines, but they are inconveniences at best. That worries me.
Focus on that. Yes, there’s a chance this is just the beginning.
And if signs point to more than one person, that’s fine.
I’ll execute them in front of all our soldiers myself. ”
“And what if it’s someone you trust?” Trifon questions.
A grim smile stretches my lips. “I trust no one. It makes it easier and much, much more difficult a witch hunt.”
“Have you explored any leads?”
“Anastasia is. She looped me in today, and I’ll be looking into it further.
I thought it pertinent to inform you, first,” I say darkly.
If I wasn’t sure before, I am now: if the shoe was on the other foot, the Yuris would not have informed me.
As it is, between Trifon and Valentin, I can’t tell whether they’re bluffing or genuinely thrown for a loop here.
“I expect to be kept in the loop by you, too, Trifon. For the sake of this alliance that we’re about to go to war over. ”
My words aren’t a suggestion.
Trifon appraises me with an inscrutable pensiveness shrouding his features. “There was a shipment outside of Worcester a few days ago. One of my oldest port contacts, a man name Petrenko, went dark. Not once in eleven years has something gone awry. Until last week.”
I hold his gaze, watching the muscles in his jaw work.
Our eyes know the same truth: This is very fucking bad. And it’s about to get much, much worse.
Valentin says, “Peterenko’s been loyal for a long time. We don’t know if he’s dead or a traitor. If it’s the latter, he wouldn’t do it for cheap.”
“Meaning whoever’s behind it has the resources to pull it off,” I finish the thought.
“Do you have anyone in mind?” Trifon asks.
“I have everyone in mind,” I answer. “Almost everyone. That’s how this works.”
Valentin's jaw clenches so hard, I swear I can hear his teeth grind. “A name, Zakharov.”
I stare back just as coldly. “When I have one, you’ll have one. I’d only ask the same courtesy of you. Assuming you want this alliance to last.”
“We do,” Trifon says before his brother can say anything else.