Igor startles at the sound of it and turns his head despite not being able to see anything. He’s mumbling in a shaky voice. “Moy Bog ne ostavit menya…”
“I can’t tell what the fuck he’s saying,” Maverick says. “He’s been mumbling through broken teeth for an hour.”
The broken teeth bit is because Maverick punched an extra hole in his mouth. I can tell because of the blood all over the front of his shirt.
“‘My God will not forsake me,’” Baron translates with no emotion. He doesn’t like this part of the job and never has. To be honest, I don’t either. But I’ve hardened to it over the years, using the pain I feel when I think about Nik’s body going cold on the concrete before his sixteenth birthday to block out the moral sense that tries to get in the way.
Maverick chuckles as he stands behind Igor. Slowly, he pulls the bag off his head. “There’s no God here,suka.Only the devil.”
Igor looks up at me. Sure enough, his mouth is bashed in and his eye is swollen.
“You really did a number on him before I got here,” I say.
“Sorry, boss. I’m a glutton for a little fun.”
“Jameson also had to rough him up a bit at Foxy’s to get him to comply,” Damon says.
“Resisting arrest.” Maverick shakes his head and clicks his tongue.
“Sounds like you’ve had a rough night,” I say calmly to our prisoner. “So let’s get to it.”
I turn to the table as Igor loses his shit, thrashing in his chair and begging in Russian.
“Pozhaluysta, pozhaluysta, pozhaluysta!”
I set my gun on the table and look back over my shoulder casually. “I’m just getting things ready. In case you decide not to play along.”
Igor continues to cry. Blood runs in the tears streaming down his face. Between Maverick’s fist and Jameson’s force, he seems pretty softened up already.
Still, I grab a pair of pliers. Then I pace slowly in front of him.
“Tell me, Igor. What kinds of things do you do working for Tristan?”
“On moy boss—” he stutters and I cut him off.
“English. I’ve had a long day, Igor. I should be lying in bed with my woman right now, not talking to you. Make this easy on my brain and maybe I’ll go easy on you.”
It’s a lie. But persuasion usually is.
“Tristan is my boss. He’s a brother. We are like family,” Igor says.
“Hmm,” I say. “Funny thing about Tristan Chadovich, Igor. He doesn’t seem to give two shits about his family. Blood or otherwise.”
“I have known for a long time,” he says. “I have always been loyal to him.”
“And has that loyalty been returned?” I ask.
Igor opens his mouth, then stops. “That is a trick question,” he says.
I smirk. “What makes you think I’m playing games?”
“Because if I say I am loyal, you will hurt me. But because of my loyalty, I know more about him than most. He is… not so smart when he is drunk. And he is drunk a lot.”
I nod and turn the pliers in my hand. Igor’s nervous eyes are locked on them. “You’re not as stupid as everyone says you are. At least so far.” I stop in front of him. “So tell me. What should I know about Tristan? What is he up to?”
“He has your cocaine.”
I look around and Maverick chuckles.
