Chapter 1 #2
“He’s been this way for days,” he said and I heard the tone of reverence.
None of us had ever seen Kazimir truly rattled. Not when learning he had a half-brother based on his father’s infidelity. Not after his father had died, the Pakhan’s death initially believed to have been a heart attack.
After being kidnapped and held in a brutal Russian prison for three years, Kazimir had treated both his escape and the hunt for the people responsible as a game.
This was… even more personal.
And while the near tragedy was a terrible thing, both his wife and sons had been spared, Golden Angel as well.
Yet the moment he’d believed them dead, his entire mindset had changed.
He’d come to realize he wasn’t infallible and that there could come a time in his life where he couldn’t protect his family.
“Don’t worry; our Pakhan is fine,” I told him. I’d made it a personal mission of my own to turn over every rock in the city to find the fucker responsible.
I’d had deep military level security checks performed on every single soldier who’d been made aware of a single detail of the christening. I’d had the church personally checked, swept for bugs, and every building we owned gone through with a fine-tooth comb.
But I’d found nothing.
It was as if the assailant had simply vanished after never having been in Moscow at all. The entire situation was unnerving as fuck.
Grigor huffed. “I mean no disrespect, but I think he’s lost it.”
All I needed to do was to turn my head and the lower-level soldier knew he’d crossed a line.
What I knew about Kazimir allowed me only to be but so concerned.
There was nothing worse than not knowing the enemy to erase from this planet.
Most assassination attempts were glorified, more than one organization laying claim.
In the aftermath, it had been apparent there’d been a single gunman, the spent rounds from an assault rifle easily purchased, left as evidence. He or she couldn’t care less we knew what weapon had been used.
It was possible the person responsible was hiding, biding their time for some other glorious attempt, but it had been two weeks since the attack and there was zero new information.
The church had been searched from top to bottom at Kazimir’s insistence with no clues as to how the assailant had escaped. Every priest had been accounted for, their backgrounds checked.
I’d personally walked the streets of Moscow, ensuring our informants and other associates knew it was in their best interest to talk.
None had, other than providing some ghost stories as possibilities.
A few had mentioned a time for reckoning.
In Russian folklore, there were several tales about the devil receiving his reckoning by being trapped by clever soldiers or peasants.
Given Kazimir had often been called the devil and that he’d been trapped before only to beat the sentence handed down, the stories were wild and violent.
And all fabricated but detailed enough to instill concern in any God-fearing Russians. Not that I believed Kazimir had fallen prey to such bullshit, but that didn’t mean the assassin wasn’t enjoying playing a vicious game.
I had thoughts on who was behind the attack, but so far Kazimir wasn’t interested in what I had to say. I couldn’t blame him. After how his blood brother Mikhail had betrayed him by imprisoning him and killing their father, I understood the sensitivity regarding the subject.
That didn’t mean I didn’t keep my eyes open.
At least by Kazimir calling me for a meeting, it meant he was still fully engaged in business operations. With his wife and sons safe, surrounded by trusted soldiers, I knew the situation would turn explosive soon enough.
Kazimir wasn’t the kind of man to sit behind locked doors for long. He was eager and ready to destroy all those involved.
After taking a deep breath, I headed outside, moving slowly to where he was seated. He knew instantly when I’d arrived, shifting in his seat while fiddling with the label on his beer bottle. “Did you ever play the game of rock, paper, scissors?”
The question was so out of left field I had no idea how to answer. “Maybe once or twice. Why?”
“Then I would say I’m the scissors and you as the beast are the rock.”
“Interesting analogy.” I moved to one of the other chairs, sitting down on the edge.
As usual, his expression was blank, but even though he was wearing dark shades, I sensed a hint of amusement.
I’d been called the beast or Zver’ in Russian more times than I could count.
The nickname suited me much like the devil did with the Pakhan. “Then who is the paper?”
He took a pull on his beer before removing his sunglasses, pocketing them and sitting up. “According to a buddy of mine, that would be the Ghost.”
“The Ghost.”
“Yes. I believe the analogy of the game works.” With his upper lip curling, he allowed the statement to linger.
“What is this, some gameshow I’m being graded on with whether I figure out what the fuck you’re talking about?”
Besides Rafaela and perhaps Stash, I was the only person allowed to talk to him with such disrespect.
His laugh was less flatlined and more like my friend who used to coerce me into doing dumb shit years ago. Long before he was forced into the position of Pakhan. “Yes, it would seem our mystery player goes by the Ghost. Fitting since he disappeared without a trace.”
We knew that with the assailant being unsuccessful, he’d likely return to finish the deed at some point in the future. “Alright. Any other brilliant information other than he wears sheets and goes around terrifying people by jumping from behind furniture whispering ‘boo’?”
His eyes flashed. No, he wasn’t losing it. The man was the most cunning asshole I’d ever met. “It would seem the Ghost is a world traveler. Supposedly, he’s left Moscow for New York.”
“New York. As in the Big Apple?”
“The very one. And guess where you’re going?”
“Are we moving?”
He reached to a table next to him, grabbing an envelope. “Maybe. First, you’re headed to New York for an extended stay.”
There was an unmistakable tone in his voice, distinctive in a way that I knew well. “Where are you going?” I accepted the envelope, uncertain what I’d find inside. He waited until I opened the flap, finding a first-class plane ticket.
“Who says I’m going anywhere?”
“Because we own two jets. Why would I need to fly on a commercial airline?”
Chuckling, he kept his eyes pinned on me. “Have we become spoiled in our riches?”
My snort was exactly how I felt. “Hardly.” He knew how I lived, keeping my wealth to myself. “You’re playing a game of your own.”
“Games provide a break to the doldrums. However, you’re right. I’m taking Rafaela and my sons to a secure location. I can’t have them placed directly in harm’s way.”
“No offense, Pakhan, but Rafaela comes from a powerful lineage in organized crime. She is completely adept at handling aspects of danger.”
He locked eyes with mine, allowing his veil of determined power to break if only for an instant. “Did you know Golden Angel was nicked by a bullet?”
Exhaling, I shook my head. “No, I didn’t know.”
“Do you know how close Golden’s head was to Artem’s little face? An inch. One. Inch. Sasha tried to protect his mother, putting him directly in harm’s way. I can’t allow my son to grow up with a ghost lingering under his bed.”
I did understand. “How’s Golden?”
“She’s fine. Lucky. And Rafaela won’t allow her dog out of her sight.
” He looked away briefly, flexing his fingers.
“I’m angry, so enraged I can’t think clearly, Kirill.
That’s not the behavior needed from the leader of a powerful army or the CEO of a billion-dollar corporation.
I need to focus and I can’t do that here.
You need to be my eyes, ears, and my right arm. Can you do that?”
“Of course I can,” I said without hesitation. “Am I to assume you plan on using a decoy to hide your eventual destination?”
“You would assume right. Plus, I don’t want anyone other than Dimitri and a few of our trusted men to know you’re in New York. If the Ghost wants to play a game of hide and seek, he picked the wrong goddamn family.” He fisted his hand, his entire face pinched.
“Understood. I assume your cousin is eager to help us flush out the Ghost.”
“More than eager. Plus, with the hotel reopening, your presence when discovered won’t appear as anything other than business.”
“When do I leave?”
“Tomorrow. You’ll have carte blanche to handle the situation as you see fit while searching for this bastard.”
I offered a sly smile. “I’ll enjoy the hunt.” I stood, knowing he’d said the only few things necessary. “Take care of your family.”
“I intend to.” He fiddled with his beer bottle a bit more before lifting his head. The darkness in his eyes was telling of exactly what he would do once the assassin was found. “I want all those who provided any assistance handled.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I mean what I said. Find the fucker.”
“I’ll find him. Don’t worry.” I shoved the envelope into my jacket, heading for the door then stopped. “Kazimir, I hope it’s not the case, but the Ghost was also the name of the assassin sent to kidnap your now wife. You know who hired them.”
Kazimir sighed. “Kirill. If it’s my brother, I want him alive. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make him suffer.”
Mikhail. A man Kazimir would have laid down his life to protect, the same one who decided to make his own flesh and blood suffer. I’d love to kill the bastard myself, but Kazimir deserved the honor.
“Yes, sir. The torture will be savage.”