Chapter Two #2
Viktor had become anything but soft. But that didn’t stop me from teasing him about going soft since he fell in love with Emilia, his wife and the mother of my only nephew.
Of course, finding love changed him, but going lax with Bratva business wasn’t one of those changes.
Aside from the happiness and satisfaction that radiated from him, Viktor now lived more intentionally.
Fewer late nights at work, more unexpected compliments using actual words, and more consideration towards staff.
While I couldn’t relate to it, I knew enough to know he now lived like a man who had someone to go home to.
My brothers and I couldn’t deny that, while he had always led the Lobanov Bratva with unquestionable integrity, he now led with a larger purpose.
“Thanks in advance,” I remarked, chuckling.
We were walking into the warehouse in less than twenty minutes.
“Did the clients complain directly to you?” Viktor inquired as we approached my office.
“Only one of them. I’m not in correspondence with the other two. They informed Yuri.”
Yuri was my right-hand man; he was one of the few men Viktor really knew.
“So, they don’t know if you’ve gotten any complaints yet?”
“They don’t.”
“Good.”
“So, should I call them all to my office?”
“No. We go to them,” he revealed, putting his hands into his pockets as I moved ahead towards the double doors.
“Sir! Good morning, sir!” the three men around the door greeted, surprise clear on their faces as I entered the large room.
“Morning,” I replied as more of them looked up from packaging and sorting, giving their greetings.
“Good morning, sir! Welcome, sir!” they greeted Viktor as he joined me.
“Pakhan.”
“Older brother.”
“Sir Viktor.”
Their attempts at whispering to one another carried around the room as Viktor blinked at me, signaling for me to share the information.
“Three clients had a common issue with their deliveries. Their packages were incomplete.”
Viktor pulled his hands out of his pockets as I added, “The three orders were from yesterday’s second shipment.”
“Anyone got anything to disclose?” I prompted.
Heads turned, and eyes flicked, but no sound was made.
“Tall guy at the back,” Viktor called, gesturing towards one of the redhead twins.
“Sir,” he answered, his eyes wary.
“What’s your name?”
“Juan, sir.”
Juan was easily the tallest of my men. Although his twin brother was almost as tall as his 6.5’ height, Juan’s sense of humor was what everyone knew him for.
“Juan, how many people handle one shift?”
“About ten, sir.”
“About ten, or ten?”
“Ten whenever the order quantity is very high, sir.”
Viktor nodded before throwing another question in his direction. “And has it been high recently?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Identify those who worked on that shift for me, Juan,” Viktor demanded.
Juan opened his mouth to speak, but Viktor beat him to it.
“Were you on the shift?” he inquired, slanting his head a fraction, the way he did whenever he asked a question he already knew the answer to.
“Yes, sir,” Juan responded, nodding fervently.
“Okay,” he answered, looking around the room. “Everyone who wasn’t on the affected shift, exit the room.”
“Yes, sir!” many of them chorused as they shuffled out of the room, leaving us with Juan and eleven other men, two of whom were stationed at the door as guards.
Viktor advanced closer to the center of the room where the ten of them had gathered.
“This is going to be very quick, being a detour,” he disclosed, turning to meet my amused gaze. “Just concise conversations. And some tools, if need be.”
He let his words sink in before going on.
“It’s no coincidence that three orders, packed during the same shift, were incomplete.
Some of you held some drug packets back at some point while packing these orders.
All of you staring at me right now belong in one of two categories: the culprits and those who know them. There’s no middle ground.”
He took another step closer to them as he explained, “Now, I couldn’t give a fuck about who took these items. I’m concerned about those who witnessed it, those who would like to tell me who the culprits are.
Because only the witnesses have a chance of walking out of this room unscathed.
However, if no one has anything to share, I’ll assume you’re all culprits.
Which makes things simple, nothing more than ten clean shots. ”
“Sir! I swear I didn’t see anything. I just face the seals I’m fixing. I don’t discuss or look around,” Keith rushed, his eyes pleading.
“Really? You guys eat together on breaks, don’t you? Do you think I believe you didn’t hear a word about an activity that must have been planned for weeks?” Viktor asked, his tone level.
“I don’t…” he started before Viktor casually pulled out his gun. With widened eyes, Keith rushed, “Please, sir!”
“In case any of you are stupid enough to think otherwise, I’m not in the habit of drawn-out tortures. Anyone who gives valuable information goes free, without any fear of being attacked, since none of the culprits will be left alive,” Viktor revealed.
“Sir, I was coerced!” Juan shouted, lifting his hands above his head.
“Coerced into what? I’ve got no time for follow-up questions.”
“I was going to tell Yuri when I heard, but they…” Juan explained, pointing to the three men on his left, “…they…they said they’d kill Santiago and me. So I…I got scared. I didn’t even tell Santi. He has a kid on the way, I couldn’t put him in danger.”
“Well, you’re going to die now if you make me ask what you discovered,” Viktor answered.
“They were talking about how expensive a single packet is and how Leonid had a guy who was interested in buying them in retail. I didn’t know when or how they planned to steal them,” he rushed.
“Sir, he’s lying. We were not talking about these drug packets. My aunt lost her child after years of treatment. I was telling my guys how much the drugs were worth, but we concluded that she wouldn’t agree,” Leonid rushed, his voice loud.
“Move forward, the three of you,” Viktor instructed, gesturing with his gun.
Nodding at the one in the middle, he asked, “Leonid’s aunt, the one he was telling you about…”
The guy nodded earnestly.
“She lives where?”
“Sir?”
“Repeating myself is the same as sanctioning your death,” Viktor said, his expression devoid of emotion.
“Russia,” he answered.
“That was what he told you guys, right?” Viktor asked the third guy.
“Sir…” the guy drawled before Viktor pulled the trigger, eliciting a rough growl from him as he held his bloodied right ear.
“Should I ask again?”
“Here in America, sir,” he practically wheezed, tears glossing his bloodshot eyes.
“Leonid, considering that I’ll call her right now to confirm, where does your aunt live?” Viktor inquired.
“Scotland,” Leonid revealed with a terrified expression on his face.
“And that brings me to my last question. How many of you were involved?”
“It was just us three, sir.”
Viktor turned to me as he put his gun back in its holster. “You have your guys, brother.”
“We’re sorry, boss.”
“We’ll refund all the money.”
“We’ll never try it again, sir!”
“That was quick,” I commented, smiling at Viktor, who was already moving towards the door.
“Gary,” I called one of the men guarding the door. “Take them to the basement. Yuri will come by later to attend to them.”
“How did you know Juan knew something?” I asked as we walked out of the warehouse’s metal doors.
“He was scared. A weaker link,” he revealed, going the other way towards the passenger door.
“Bye, sir!” Rory greeted, closing the passenger door for him.
“Don’t send anything out until Yuri gets here,” I instructed Paul.
“Yes, boss.”
“They were all scared. Most of them have never seen you,” I continued as I started the engine.
“They were apprehensive. He was scared, “ he clarified. “They were all trying to act normal, yes. But he was trying much harder, even before you stated the reason for the visit. And that only means he’s trying to cover something that he knows will put him in trouble.”
“Your mighty Pakhan detective skills are still strong,” I commented as I swerved onto the empty avenue.
“You could have handled it yourself,” he pointed out. “Just as effectively.”
“Maybe almost but not quite,” I corrected. “Let’s just say I miss working with you. You know, like our mafia soldier days.”
A half-smile appeared on his face. “A meeting awaits us, I hope you remember that.”
“Of course. We’ll be there before you can say Jack.”
**********
Sergei hadn’t arrived when Viktor and I arrived at my estate. Roman’s green Bugatti Chiron Super Sport was in the parking lot as I came to a stop.
“How did the funeral go?” Roman asked, rising to his feet as we joined them in my private meeting room. “Yuri said you weren’t there for long.”
Amidst half hugs and handshakes, Viktor answered, “It was brief; the usual. We’d be here earlier if Mikhail didn’t stage a detour to his warehouse.”
“How’s Emilia and the young man?” Roman inquired as we sat, his clean-shaven face and sleek suit making him look every bit the legitimate businessman he was.
Viktor, taking his place at the head of the table, answered, “They are okay. With the number of times you ask after him, your name might be the first one he knows-before Mikhail and Konstantin.”
“That’s not happening,” I negated from my seat to Viktor’s right.
“Well, we’ll see, brother,” Roman uttered, shrugging.
Yuri came in then, greeting and taking the seat to my right, opposite Roman.
“Sergei should be here any minute,” Viktor informed.
“If he hasn’t taken the liberty to do what he calls driving,” Roman added, making me chuckle.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” Sergei stated, marching into the meeting room, briefcase in hand.
His blue eyes reflected wisdom sharpened by experience, and his 6’1” slim frame made him look even younger than he really was.
“Good morning, Sergei,” Viktor greeted, and we all followed suit as the grey-haired man settled into the seat to Viktor’s left.
Sergei Ivanov was a Bratva elder. As one of the soldiers who worked the closest to our late father, he was one of the few people we trusted. He was no longer in active service but kept to recording and researching through the many channels still available to him.
“We were just wondering if you drove yourself,” I revealed, my tone light.
“You’d better keep wondering because I won’t be answering that,” he replied, humor clear in his voice as he brought out some papers from his leather briefcase.
“Back to business,” Viktor declared, his expression serious.
Sergei cleared his throat once before speaking.
“Giovanni Moretti died in a hit. An ambush, really. But it was not sudden or unexpected. For months, Giovanni had been skimming from weapons deals with our rivals.”
“The Irish mob?” Roman inquired, a slight, confused frown on his face.
“Yes,” Sergei confirmed. “They warned him. Severely. But he didn’t take heed. He walked into an ambush that they set for him. We had nothing to do with the ambush. But we didn’t stop it, either. We let him fall because he had already double-crossed. He had become a liability to the Lobanov Bratva.”
“But why would Giovanni feel the need to do something like that? The Morettis have never been involved in double dealings,” Roman expressed.
“I can’t say it’s so surprising. I mean, Marco Moretti has been in heavy debt from gambling and his reckless deals. He was probably trying to help his father out,” I disclosed.
“Aside from his gambling debts, Marco is our debtor,” Yuri divulged.
“What?” I asked.
“He owes us millions. I also found out he’s been quietly working with the Caruso family for a while now,” Viktor divulged.
“He’s betraying us?!” I questioned, surprised at all the new information about the bastard Marco.
“Yes. I didn’t want to make it public when I found out,” Viktor answered. “But it’s now time for retribution. Mikhail, since Giovanni was in your fold, you’ll take it up.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“He can’t go scot-free while owing us millions,” Roman added.
“Marco won’t pay just like that,” Viktor warned. “The Moretti name is stained.”
“Then, I’ll just cut him down. Sell whatever he has left,” I opined.
“No, Mikhail,” Viktor refused. “That’ll be too easy. He doesn’t get to regret or find a way to pay back. We’ll take something he values. Something important to him. His daughter.”
The fact that Viktor himself mentioned Marco’s daughter excited something in me. But, instead of reacting the way I felt, I practically snarled, “His daughter? What if it doesn’t make him pay his debt? What if I don’t want to keep a grown lady in my house?”
“There are no choices here, brother. It’s about the Bratva, not you,” Viktor pointed out. “Reach out to him. Give him a close ultimatum. If he fails to show up, take the collateral.”
“Yes, boss,” I concurred, smirking like Isabella’s defiance wasn’t flashing through my mind.