"I know." Gleb nods. "I sent her back inside."
"Good." I head toward the elevator. "She's not to leave the casino. If she insists on getting out of the penthouse, Lazar will escort her. But she stays in the building, no matter what."
"Understood." Gleb pulls out his radio. "I'll make sure Lazar knows."
The elevator ride down gives me time to switch my focus from Tatiana to the situation at hand. One of Malcom's men killed Yakov on my property, and now we're going to make him pay for it. The Kozlovs think they can operate freely against us, but they're about to learn otherwise.
My car's waiting in my reserved spot, and I get in and punch the address Vadim sent into the GPS. The warehouse is twenty minutes away in a part of the city that's mostly industrial and abandoned. Perfect place for the Kozlovs to hide while they regroup.
Traffic is light this early, and I make it there in fifteen minutes. Vadim's car is already parked a block away, and I pull up behind it. He and Fyodor are standing on the street corner looking at something on Vadim's phone when I approach.
"There are two guards outside." Vadim shows me the screen displaying a live feed from a camera he must've set up or hacked into. "Probably more inside with our guy."
"How do you want to do this?" I check my gun and make sure the safety's off.
"I want the front door." Fyodor grins. "Quick and loud—we'll take out the guards before they can radio for backup."
"And if there are civilians inside?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. These men are hotheaded and impulsive. I can see why my brother trusts them so much.
"You think Kozlov lets innocent lives hover around his organization?" Vadim puts his phone away. "Besides, this warehouse has been abandoned for two years. If anyone's in there, they're with the Kozlovs."
We move as a unit down the street staying close to the buildings for cover. The warehouse comes into view, and I can see two men standing near the entrance smoking cigarettes. They're not paying attention to their surroundings, which is going to cost them.
Vadim and I take the left guard while Fyodor moves right. We're on them before they realize what's happening. I put two rounds in my target's chest and he drops without making a sound. The other guard tries to reach for his weapon, but Fyodor shoots him in the head before he can clear his holster. Unfortunately, the whole interchange is loud and I'm sure we've tipped off everyone inside the building.
"Inside," Vadim barks as he kicks open the warehouse door, and we move through in formation.
The interior's mostly empty except for old machinery and stacked pallets. We clear the first room and move deeper into the building following the sound of voices coming from somewhere in the back. They're talking in harsh, clipped tones, saying something about getting out of there in a Serbian dialect.
A door at the end of a hallway stands partially open with light spilling out, and I can hear at least three voices inside, one of them louder than the others.
Vadim counts down with his fingers. Three. Two. One. Then we breach the door, and everything happens at once. There are four men inside and they all reach for weapons. I put down the closest one with a shot to the chest that has him clutching himself as crimson blooms on his shirt. Fyodor takes out another with two quick rounds that make my ears ring while the third man gets a shot off that goes wide before Vadim drops him.
That leaves Anton Petrov backed against the far wall with his hands up. It's been a very long time since I've seen the fucker up close, and man has he gotten old. Vadim and Fyodor keep their guns trained on him as I advance, shaking my head. So this is the fucker who killed my informant without mercy on my property.
"Don't shoot." His voice shakes. "I'm unarmed."
"We know exactly who you are." I walk toward him with my gun pointed at his chest. "You killed Yakov outside my casino, you sick bastard. And what a shame that I'm here to see to it that you understand why that was a very bad choice."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He's sweating, large, pearlescent beads that roll down his forehead and bulbous nose. "I wasn't anywhere near your casino."
"We've got you on camera." Vadim moves to block the door. "Getting out of your car. Walking into the alley. Driving away after you put a bullet in his head."
"That wasn't me." Petrov looks between the three of us, trying to figure out if there's any way out of this. "You've got the wrong guy." Famous last words to every man who ever did anything wrong. I'm not even surprised at his disgusting denial.
"No, we don't." I grab him by the throat and slam him against the wall. "And you're going to tell us everything you know about the Kozlov operation before I put a bullet in your skull."
Petrov tries to back away, but there's nowhere to go. His hands are trembling and I swear any second, he will piss himself.
"I don't know anything." He's choking now as my grip tightens. "I'm just a soldier. They don't tell me shit."
Fyodor walks over with a knife in his hand. "Let's see if we can help you remember."
I release Petrov's throat, and Fyodor grabs his right hand, spreading the fingers flat against the wall. The knife comes down fast and pins his pinky finger to the concrete. Petrov screams.
"That's one." Fyodor twists the blade as blood spray paints the wall and runs down to the floor. "You've got nine more. Start talking or we keep going."
"Fuck you." Petrov's face is white with pain but he's stubborn, not giving up. "I'm not telling you anything."
