He had loyalists. Political leverage. Corrupt officials.
Informants embedded in law enforcement.
Home advantage made him dangerous.
But I had resources he couldn’t match.
I forced a smile for her. “A few days, little laurel tree.”
I tapped her nose lightly.
“I promise.”
It was a promise I intended to keep — even if it meant reducing Los Angeles to ashes to do it.
I leaned forward and pressed a slow kiss to her forehead.
I lingered.
Memorizing her warmth.
Then I straightened.
Before my voice could betray doubt, I turned away.
I didn’t look back.
If I saw fear on her face again, it would weaken my resolve.
Chapter 15
RUSLAN BARANOV
Ten hours after takeoff from Athens —
The wheels of the lead Gulfstream touched down on the private airstrip outside Long Beach.
No lights flashed for arrival.
No official clearance records logged publicly.
The operation was off-books.
Untraceable.
A convoy of blacked-out SUVs already waited at the runway perimeter — engines idling, doors open, drivers standing in tactical formation.
My battalion had arrived in waves.
Three cargo planes had landed earlier at separate regional airports — staggered intentionally to avoid radar clustering and suspicion.
Two hundred and forty men.
Elite.
Handpicked.
Loyal to me — not to contracts.
