Chapter Fourteen Konstantin’s POV #2
“Don’t tell me you called to inform me of the latest troubles the Russian authorities are facing,” I answered, my voice calm.
“Don’t go that way with me, Konstantin,” he warned, his voice sounding anything but. “The bosses requested that you be contacted directly about having her.”
“What makes it certain that she’s a key suspect. Did Vitya Morozov himself say that?” I hedged.
“They were in a relationship, and it’s not her first time being around a criminal. What do you think?”
When I didn’t reply, he went on.
“There are grainy pictures of you escorting her through a private hangar on my table right now. This might be a wrong move, man. It’s not right to keep a wanted criminal with you, especially for someone of your reputation.”
“Escorting her into the country isn’t the same as having her under my roof. There are several ways the scenario could have gone. You know that,” I told him. “Frankly, I thought your call would be about something more…alarming.”
“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
“Petra, there have been two different raids in the previous week. These operations were at locations you guys could never have discovered on your own. And I know that scumbag in detention with you doesn’t even know of the existence of those cartels,” I explained, waiting for my words to sink in before proceeding with the actual blow.
“That makes me wonder how these guys’ businesses got to the authorities. ”
“That’s…that’s above my pay grade. The ministers just laid out the information, and we had to strike. We don’t know who the informant is, either.”
“Call me when you do,” I told him, ending the call.
“If he doesn’t know, it must be higher-up than we thought,” Sergei mused, retrieving his phone from the table.
“Sergei. Just leave. I need to think.”
“Okay, boss.”
**********
I was walking along the hallway of my suite when I saw her.
Through the half-open library door, I could see her neck bent over some white paper sheet that almost covered the whole table.
Not wanting to startle her, I stepped in quietly and approached the table.
Her hair was in a loose bun, and the scent of her perfume was sweet and simple, pulling me in.
From where I stood a few feet to her side, I could see that it wasn’t just paper.
It was a map.
Not just any map. It was a map of shipping routes, and she traced them with her fingertips.
I took another step closer to her chair so she could see me, asking, “What are you doing?”
Her head whipped to the side, and she looked up.
“Konstantin.”
I moved around her chair to the left, where the second chair was. As I settled in the chair beside her, she turned to me and calmly said, “Trying to understand the war you’ve dragged me into. If you want me to clear my name, I need to know what I’m accused of.”
Wow.
I didn’t say anything as she returned her attention to the map. I didn’t need to ask where she got the pencils, rulers, and other supplies from; Hans must have helped out. The girl knew how to wrap people around her fingers.
Her audacity stunned me.
Shifting closer, I placed my hands on the map, making her stop what she was tracing.
“The routes we use depend mainly on how heavy the shipment is,” I started to explain.
“Heavy doesn’t imply actual weight here, does it?” she inquired.
She’s smart.
“No, it doesn’t,” I answered, chuckling. “It’s about the cost and…well, I’d say magnitude of what we’re sending. A shipment of heroin won’t pass the route as a container of arms, regardless of the size.”
She nodded in understanding.
“This is the Baja route,” I explained, tracing one point to another on the map.
“Mostly, it’s for drugs. Other mafias move almost anything through the route, but we don’t.
The reason is that our customers and clients are quite segregated from each other.
So, using the same route for arms clients and drug customers means setting them up to meet. ”
“And they should not meet,” she pointed out.
“You got it,” I confirmed. “Sometimes, we use the California route as an annex,” I told her, tracing another line on the map. “If we have a reason to smell suspicion from the forces, or the client personally requests it.”
“If any client can request that their goods be moved through a particular route, they can pair with the government forces and sabotage or implicate you,” she said, shrugging.
“That would be possible if every client knew they could make such requests. Those who dictate routes are not ordinary clients.”
“Oh…I see.”
The whole conversation felt easy and natural. I realized how much I liked being like this with her.
“This is one of our most used routes,” I told her, tracing a line to the left. “Low traffic. No interference.”
“For the heavy stuff?” she asked, a hint of humor on her beautiful face.
Fuck, I want to kiss her.
She blinked, and that was when I realized I’d been staring at her.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
Here I am talking with someone I should be interrogating, like she was an ally.
I turned to the map. “Now this is classified,” I started, looking back at her.
“Boss!” Sergei called, bursting into the library.
I was on my feet in a second. He rushed in, and I met him a few feet away from the door.
“Talk to me.”
“Odnu iz vne?nih ohrannyh komand atakovali. Kto-to znaet, ?to Alina vnutri. Oni hotat’ dobrat’sa do nee.” One of the outer security teams has been hit. Someone knows Alina is inside. They want to get her.
My head turned towards her, and I looked back at Sergei.
Not on my watch.