I step over Boris's body. Someone else can clean this up.
Outside, night has fully fallen. Misha and Sergei have the chemist on his knees in the dirt between the cabins. He’s a young guy, maybe thirty, with crooked glasses. Thin build, soft hands. Terrified.
"What happened?" Misha asks, reading my face. "The gunshot?—"
"Boris is dead."
They understand immediately. No questions. A traitor was dealt with.
"The lab geek was hiding in the basement," Sergei says, excited. "Whole fucking bunker down there. Steel door, electronic lock. But a good gun can blow away any lock if you know where to aim."
Bunker? The chemist must be important to Dmitri's business. That kind of security costs real money.
"Permission to shoot him, Boss?" Sergei's hand moves to his weapon. Eager. Too eager.
I look at the chemist. He’s crying now, snot running down his face. Pathetic. But potentially useful.
"Wait," Misha says. "We could recruit him instead. This guy's gotta be good if Dmitri's protecting him this hard. I know some connections who'd want him. The Koreans are always looking for quality chemists."
The chemist jumps on it. "Yes! Yes, I'll work for you. Whatever you need. I'm good, really good at synthesis. Clean product, high yield. Please, I have a daughter, she's only six, she lives with her mother in Evanston?—"
"Shut the fuck up," Sergei snaps. "Nobody cares about your brat."
"We should care," Misha argues. "Kid makes him controllable. Gives us leverage."
"Fuck leverage. He's a loose end." Sergei spits on the ground. "How many times do we gotta learn this shit? Keep these pussies around, they flip the second they get a chance. One phone call to the cops and we're fucked."
"And waste a potential asset? You know how much the Koreans pay for good chemists? Hundred grand minimum for a referral. Maybe more if he's as good as he says."
"Hundred grand's nothing if he rats us out, dipshit."
"He won't rat if we know where his kid sleeps at night."
"Oh, so now we're babysitting some nerd and threatening six-year-olds? That's your big plan?"
"Better than your plan, which is to shoot everything that moves."
"Worked fine so far."
"Yeah? How'd that work out with the Sokolov situation? You shot first, and we lost three guys in the blowback?—"
"Fuck you, that was different."
"Was it? Because it seems like your answer to everything is to put a bullet in it."
I'm already walking away, heading back to the car. Their voices fade behind me, still arguing, about to come to blows.
I need to see her.
"Boss?" Misha calls after me.
I stop and turn. They're both watching me, the chemist forgotten for the moment.
"We still need a plan to get to Dmitri," I say. "The guy might come in handy. Keep him captive. Get what you can—what he knows, where the other labs are. Then we'll decide."
They nod. Sergei looks disappointed but accepts it. Misha starts making calls.
The drive back is long. Misha is behind the wheel, giving me space.
