27. Maxim
27
MAXIM
A fter my call with Alek, Yusef reported in. He was quick to act in my stead, just like I knew he would be. Not only did he give my brothers and our top leaders replacement, brand-new phones and lines, but he also provided me with all their contacts.
Until we knew how the breach and hack had happened that allowed us to be tracked, we couldn’t determine how long these new numbers would remain safe. As such, I spoke with caution.
Nik called me before I left the building. He was quick to reach out, asking how he could help. Word of Nadia’s being taken had spread at home, and my brothers wanted to assist me.
Before, I would’ve been annoyed, almost offended for them to come to me and offer help. Usually, it was the other way around. I was typically the one at the mansion, at the computer, and backing them up with the intel and details they needed to be safe and successful out there. Now, the roles were reversed. But I knew he wasn’t stepping on my toes or trying to prove that I wasn’t an independently strong brother on the streets.
He cared. If the roles were reversed and he needed help with Amy’s safety, I wouldn’t have hesitated to offer my assistance. And I had. I’d helped Alek, Nik, and Ivan with their adventures in claiming their women.
“What can I do?” he asked, plain and simple, straight to the point.
“Fuck, I don’t know.” I rubbed my hand over my face, wishing I could think of another way to search for her. Until I could know how far they might have taken Nadia, I felt lost. She could be held in the city here or flown away. Yusef had someone following the travel angle, but that was a massive undertaking.
“There’s not a lot of chatter about the Avilovs here,” he said, seeming to realize that I didn’t like this silence between us. Like he knew I was flustered and pacing, hating the lack of direction and answers.
“I bet not,” I replied.
“They’re so much more involved internationally and usually stay away from much of the activity in the States, let alone New York.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “I don’t recall Uncle Pavel having anything to do with the Avilov name either.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“It’s interesting that Kastava would have looked to him for backing.”
Nik hummed. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s the one thing that does make sense. Alek really set him up to suffer with that sting at the Colver docks. And since then, the Valkovs have risen in prominence and power because of his leadership.”
He wasn’t praising Alek for nothing. Our oldest brother was a good Pakhan with a clear motivation to make our family the top in New York.
“Sergei wouldn’t have found any backing or allies in the city.”
“So,” I finished for him, “he had to look outside of it.”
“Yeah. And I’m not surprised he’d know of Avilov. He likely ran into him at some point with his presence at the docks.”
I hadn’t considered that yet. We didn’t know much about the Avilovs, nothing specific, at least. What did stand out was Lev Avilov’s preference to travel—often—and usually by boat. He was frequently seen on his many yachts. If his mode of transportation was by water, then he would’ve likely encountered Kastava, perhaps at the docks where he’d try to screw over the Valkov name.
“Do we have information about his seacraft?” Yusef had someone looking into the Kastava properties to figure out where Dmitri might be. If Lev preferred to stay off the land, there wouldn’t be as many properties tied to the Avilovs, or if there were, nothing easily trackable.
“I think Brandon and Yusef assigned someone to look into that already. I’m heading downstairs right now, though. I’ll follow up and make sure someone’s on it.”
“Thanks, Nikolai.”
“We’ll keep you posted.”
I sighed, exiting the penthouse to check the neighborhood again. Henry was canvassing the area, and he still had the Valkov employees here on the task. But I couldn’t sit around. I had to move. I had to physically involve myself in looking, because waiting for answers and updates would drive me insane. Every minute that Nadia was gone, I felt the crushing weight of pain on my heart.
Where are you, sweetheart? Where?
Just like I did yesterday, I walked the perimeter of the building. Out here, under the sunshine, everything looked so ordinary. Life carried on as usual. Street vendors walked around selling wares. Pedestrians hustled along on commutes to their offices. Buses zoomed by.
No one else was acting like war had been declared. Nothing signaled grief and anger, or misery and impatience. My frustration was a living beast trapped within me, and seeing the normal, everyday scene of the city pissed me off more.
How could no one have seen her? How?
The surveillance from the building either had to have been scrubbed or someone pulled off a goddamn magic Houdini trick to get her out of the penthouse. It was as though she’d vanished into thin air after struggling to get free. Henry had an IT employee working on the files here, but backtracking and figuring out a cyber trail didn’t usually result in instant answers.
I had to be patient, but that seemed like an impossible feat. Every minute felt so long. Each hour passed grudgingly slowly.
When I walked along the back of the building, I spotted the grungy homeless man. He was watching me pass by, but before I moved away to complete my circuit, he cleared his throat.
I stopped, glancing at him.
He didn’t speak, but I was confident he’d made that noise to stop me.
Then, ever so slightly, he tilted his head to the side.
Without being obvious, I scanned the area but focused on the direction he’d indicated. Nothing stood out. Only the work alley to my left and more of the same to the right.
I wondered if it was a jerk. An involuntary motion from some sort of physical issue, but I dismissed the idea. This was the same man who’d been camped out here since I arrived in Chicago.
He hadn’t changed. And I recalled at once what stood out about him. He looked as grungy as all the other homeless people I’d asked yesterday. I’d stopped at them all and given them money for any clues if they’d seen Nadia being taken away.
This guy was different, though. His eyes weren’t bloodshot. He looked as hopeless and filthy as the others, but he acted with an innate sense of wellbeing that couldn’t be disguised as poor health or hygiene.
“Can’t you spare some change?” he asked, tilting his head more clearly to indicate the yet-to-be-filled aluminum pan he was collecting money in. Street peddlers didn't typically attract my attention. They blended in, all the same as they begged and solicited handouts.
But something snagged me. I didn’t have time to talk with him if he couldn’t tell me anything. I walked closer anyway, reaching in my pocket for a few coins to toss in.
I raised one brow, studying him closer.
“Did you find your wife?” he asked, lowering his voice but maintaining that slangy tone.
“I didn’t say that she was my wife,” I replied coolly. Nadia would be mine in every sense of the word, but this guy didn’t know that.
“Will she be yours?” he pressed.
“What’s it to you?”
“You were asking around about her yesterday.”
I nodded. “It’s of great importance that I locate her.”
He stared up at me, making me more intrigued. His gaze was clear and serious.
“I am asking if she is a sold woman or if she is yours , Mr. Valkov.”
I didn’t move. I held my breath in and fought not to show any reaction to his knowing my name. It might be common knowledge that the tall building behind me was a Valkov property, but I doubted it. We often used layers of protection, owning land and buildings under shell corps and untraceable names. All syndicated crime families did that. It was why—as Nik and Alek discussed with me—we struggled to know where to find the Kastavas who had Dmitri captive as well as where Lev Avilov might take Nadia.
“Again,” I replied calmly, “what is it to you?”
“Our interests might overlap, Maxim. Our goals might align in a mutually beneficial sense.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I asked. He might have been aware that this property belonged to my family, but I couldn’t guess how he’d know my name, specifically.
“Is she a sold woman you’ve lost? Or your woman?” he asked again. His tone was firm and full of authority, and I knew at once that this was no damn homeless beggar.
“Who’s asking?” Replying with questions was stupid. Those sorts of games were nothing but that, games, playing around where direct conversation could get more done. But I wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t reveal anything until he put out intel first.
“The CIA is asking.”
I smirked, looking away. “Fucking great.”
“You’re running out of time, Maxim,” he warned.
“To answer to you?” I mocked. The Bratva didn’t make a habit of working with the Feds—ever. That was just the nature of our lives. The last time we’d dealt with anyone in law enforcement, it was to take down Steven Murphy. He’d gone too far in trying to attack the Valkov Bratva, and we were all relieved he was now dead, thanks to another rival’s trigger-happy finger.
“To find her.”
I hardened my face. Staring at him with a lethal seriousness, I dared him to play with me. “Start talking.”
“You don’t have the upper hand here.”
That was always the debate. Law versus crime. Officers and agencies against criminals and organizations like the Bratva. This power play would never stop, and it certainly wouldn’t right here, between us. We were mere players in the big scheme of “right” versus “wrong”.
“What’s the difference?” I couldn’t answer him. Ever since Nik helped free the trafficked women from the Ortez Cartel, we were sending the women out where they’d be safe. We’d never dealt with selling humans, and Alek intended to keep it that way. This agent asking whether I had a sold woman would be a tricky question. Technically, Nadia was sold to Lev, via promises.
To answer him that she was my woman would be more complicated. That would ensure she would forever be associated with me in any law database. He would share this intel with his agency, and Nadia would have that label—a Mafia wife.
But she already is. The Petrovs were a small family, but Gregory was involved in transporting arms. He was in the Mafia.
“She’s mine,” I answered at last.
“According to you? Or her?”
“Both. Enough with the fucking games.”
“I have to check.” He glanced around, as though he couldn’t snap out of being observant at all times. “I can’t collaborate with you for the purpose of trafficking women, but if this is your woman who was taken…”
“Who said we’re collaborating at all?” To agree to work with him, I’d be breaking code.
“We should.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care about anything but getting that fucker. We’ve been after Avilov for decades.”
I shrugged. Not my business.
“Like I said, our goals align. I want to bring that asshole down. I almost did, twelve years ago, and it’s personal now.”
I smirked, too untrusting to jump at any offer of help from the law. “I thought you officers and agents were supposed to stick to protocol, not personal vendettas.”
He deadpanned at me. “Like we both don’t know how corrupted so many are. I’m not. I understand you can only take my word for that, but I’m operating under the duties of my position, of the law, to get that motherfucker before he’s dead. I want him to pay, like he should, for a lifetime of crimes.”
“How do our goals align?”
“They have her.”
I clenched my jaw, furious. “I asked you fucking yesterday…”
“And I didn’t know yesterday. My partner found them up near the lake. They stopped at a warehouse, and he saw her being carried in.”
“You have proof?”
He huffed. “On me?” He emphasized a glance at his blanketed spot. “I’m under cover. I don’t have a fucking phone on me.”
“And I’m supposed to take your word?”
I wanted help. I was desperate for clues to get to Nadia, but I couldn’t be hasty and err in judgment. This could be a trap. Another setup or sting.
“Ask your IT staff to go hack into the feed of the building there.” He tipped his head, indicating another building. “The florist shop. A uniformed man moved a garbage can out on a cart at 8:42 yesterday morning. She was in it, dumped into a van that my partner was already tailing.”
“Oh, yeah?” I got my phone out and called Henry, then I had this man repeat what this so-called agent said.
“Call me.” I disconnected for Henry to do his work inside.
“My partner called it in to another agent.” He frowned. “Avilov’s moving in soon by water. And he’ll disappear again. Help me get to him, and it’ll get you to your girl.”
“That’s it? We help each other and look the other way?”
“That’s it. I want Avilov. I don’t give a shit what you Valkovs do. Not my jurisdiction, and I don’t think anyone can top the crimes against humanity Avilov has had his hands in.”
“If you have a partner, why do you need my help?”
“They found him watching the warehouse. His cover was blown. He’s dead.”
His sober expression didn’t lie.
My phone pinged with a text from Henry.
Henry: He’s correct. This is the plate.
Attached was a still shot of Erik Avilov dumping Nadia into a van.
“Fuck.”
“See?” He shook his head and stood. “We’re running out of time. He’ll ship out and be harder to find. It seems he wants your woman. She’s bringing him close to land. Work with me. Please.”
“You go for Lev, and you look the other way.”
He rose to his full height, not leaning or limping with any handicap or weakness. “I want nothing to do with the Valkov Bratva. We team up—just for this—and no interference will follow.”
I felt like I was either selling myself short or giving my soul to the devil, but I stared at his outstretched hand and hesitated.
“I have no backup. I only need to get there, as quickly as possible, before the fucker is gone again.”
I gritted my teeth and shook his hand, finding his grip firm. “You got a name?”
He revealed his badge. “Tom Buttune.”
“Let’s go.”
He ran with me to the closest car in the garage. When a member of security prepared to follow us, I waved off the backup. “I’ve given Henry the location. He’ll send forces nearby, but they can’t have a whole team coming.”
Tom nodded. “I agree. The quicker we go and with fewer to detect, the better.”
My men planned to follow, at a distance, and I sped toward the address Tom input into the navigation. It wasn’t too far from here, and while the workday had already begun, traffic didn’t hold us back.
Tom filled me in on his career of hunting down Avilov. He listed the crimes he was determined to make Lev Avilov pay for. Justice, according to this older agent, would be coming.
“Just make sure?—”
Gunshots interrupted him. We were near the warehouse his deceased partner had tipped him off to finding. The passenger window shattered, and the agent groaned in pain.
He slapped his hand to his neck, right over his shoulder. Blood stained below his clutched position, and I knew he wouldn’t make it. It sounded like two shots, and as he parted his lips, blood trickled out.
“Fuck!” I grabbed my gun and aimed at the car that sped perpendicular to the SUV I was driving. I fired out the shattered window, killing the driver and sending the car swerving to the side.
“Tom. Tom!” I grabbed his arm and shook him. Fuck, he was dying.
“Get that motherfucker, Maxim. Kill him. For me.” I nodded, watching him struggle to keep his eyes open.
“Tell… Don.” He coughed on more blood.
“Don?” I volleyed my gaze between the dying agent in the passenger seat, too hardened to be freaked out about the violence and gore, and the road. I scanned the mirrors, keeping an eye out for any other scouts who’d shoot me.
“Don Freemen.” He gagged. Blood and bile spilled out onto his lap. “My… my…”
“Who?”
“Tell my boss. Don. If you can’t kill the fucker… tell Don to bring him down in my memory.”
“Don Freeman. CIA.” I repeated it only so he’d hear me. I wouldn’t promise to get involved in the law’s goals, but I could pass on the word that Tom died going after Lev. It was, honestly, the least I could do after he’d directed me to where Nadia was taken.
“FBI,” he corrected. “Tell—” He coughed harder yet and slumped toward the door. “Tell Don.”
He wheezed out a few more breaths but then seemed to seize, perhaps choking on his blood.
Those shots were aimed to kill, and within the minute, he was dead.
I stared ahead, ignoring the cooling corpse riding shotgun.
He wouldn’t slow me down. He wouldn’t stop me. My phone rang, and figuring it was Henry or someone else within the family, I ignored the summons.
With tunnel vision, I looked up at the warehouse in the distance and vowed to keep going until I got my girl back. Now, more than ever, I was determined to be her hero and get her away from the Avilovs for the final time.