Page 53 of Dark King Daddy

Anton nodded. “Agreed.”

Uncle Kostya folded his arms. “You force frightened men onto routes and one of them panics, you create another problem.”

“We increase escort coverage,” Daniil said.

“With what people? Half your soldiers were at a funeral this morning. The other half are securing your properties because you expect the next strike.”

Daniil looked at him. “We have enough.”

“Do you?”

The room tightened.

Anton stepped in before the challenge became something else.

“We continue the routes,” he said. “Both organizations. Visible escorts. Temporary hazard pay for drivers.”

“Pay confirms the routes are dangerous,” Nikita said.

“They are dangerous,” Anton answered.

“Yes. But the question is whether we want every driver’s wife hearing that from his pay stub.”

I looked at Nikita.

He spoke calmly, almost conversationally, but his eyes missed nothing.

“What do you suggest?” I asked.

“Reassurance from people they trust.”

“Captains?”

“Some. Dispatchers. Yard managers. Union representatives. Men who work beside them.”

“Compromised employees are among those people,” Daniil said.

“Exactly.”

Silence settled.

Daniil looked at Anton. “We continue.”

Anton held his gaze. “We continue.”

The decision was made. No one in the room believed the words alone would be enough.

Uncle Kostya waited three seconds.

“Anton. Ksenia,” he said. “Your father’s office.”

My brother’s shoulders stiffened.

We walked down the corridor in silence.

Papa’s office still smelled like him.

Tea. Tobacco. The cedar blocks he kept in the cabinet because he said old buildings had too many moths. His papers remained stacked at the right side of the desk. His pen lay across the blotter.