Deadly (Born Bratva Book 5) (29 page)

Roksana

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.” I flick my wrist and toss the hot contents of the coffee cup in the guy’s face. He gasps and jerks against his restraints, his eyes squinting as he adjusts to the harsh lighting and tries to get his bearings.

I want answers. This little prick has me worried. Is he a snitch or maybe even a cop? I know my father well enough to know he wouldn’t sanction killing a DEA agent. I hope like hell we haven’t underestimated this guy.

“You fucking bitch!” he sputters, shaking his head like a dog who got caught in the rain and sending a shower of coffee through the air. His indignation is quickly replaced by a surprisingly dignified, caustic anger.

I shake my head no in Oleg’s direction when I see the fire in his eyes and his hand lifts to knock the man’s teeth down his throat. I step toward Miguelito, stopping a few feet in front of him.

“You’re right, of course,” I say softly as I begin to slowly circle him, and he frowns warily. “I am indeed a bitch—a cold hearted, cold blooded bitch. But you’re the one tied up in a chair.” From behind him, I lean down and whisper close to his ear. “Last time I checked, that would make you
my
bitch. In light of that information you’d do well to stay on my good side.”

I straighten and nod at Anastasia. “Why don’t you introduce us to our friend here?”

She’s been going through his wallet and begins to read off the information from his I.D.

“Miguel Jorge Sanchez.” She continues calling out the same address as the woman we’ve been watching.

“I wonder if that woman of yours knows you’re an informant for the DEA? In fact…I wonder if your homeboys know you’ve been snitching on them.”

Oleg is shaking his head at the guy like he can’t believe he’s stupid enough to think he can play both sides of the fence. I walk around to stand in front of the chair and cross my arms over my chest.

“You think you’ve got everybody fooled – everybody except us. Your girlfriend thinks you love her; your gang thinks you’re down for them; and the cops? Who knows what the hell they think. You could use a friend right now. Maybe I can be your friend. Let’s start by you telling me what the hell you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in.”

Up until now, Miguelito hasn’t been anything but a nickel and dime drug dealer with connections to pilots who frequent several key Venezuelan airstrips. Seeing him talking to the DEA has me wondering if this guy is going to be more trouble than we thought.

Oleg

“I’m not telling you shit.”

I grab a handful of his greasy hair and viciously yank his head back. “The way I see it, you need to give me any information I want. So let’s get right to it. Are you a cop?”

“If I am, you guys are in a hell of a lot of trouble.”

I release his hair with a shove, saying contemptuously, “You underestimate me if you think what I want is as simple as your death. Although the idea of killing you here and now for the pure pleasure of it is appealing, there are more important issues at stake than my personal gratification.”

“Fuck you,” he hisses with a snarl, but his eyes betray the fear that’s fast taking hold inside his head. Still, it will take some effort to break this guy’s spirit.

I cut my eyes at Dmitriy. “Gag him but don’t blindfold him,” I say, raising my voice on the last few words in order to be heard over our guest’s screams.

“Man, please don’t leave me here in the dark.”

“Oh, don’t worry you won’t be alone, my friend. I’m calling in The
Tenderizer.”

“What the fuck is a tenderizer?” The panic in his voice is obvious.

I ignore his question and turn my attention to Dmitriy. “We’ll meet you two out in the SUV.”

I turn to leave before the man can say anything else and the last sound I hear is the gratifying tearing of duct tape just before Anastasia seals it over Miguel’s mouth. His muffled screams soothe my soul and send a wave of calm through me as we approach the SUV.

Roksana waits to speak until we’re settled in the vehicle to wait for Dmitriy and Anastasia. “This shit just got complicated. It isn’t like we’re dealing with some punk street gang anymore. The potential for the DEA being involved with this guy? That changes everything.”

“That’s why we have to get your father involved. The decisions that need to be made right now are far beyond my pay grade.” Even though what I’m saying is true, it isn’t just about money, it’s about respect. I would never make decisions that involve law enforcement agencies. Making the wrong call could bring the whole organization down. It’s not my place to decide how to deal with this cluster-fuck of a mess.

The timing couldn’t be worse. If we weren’t looking at going somewhat legit, we could just kill the guy and be done with it. Or we could turn him over to his homeboys and let them kill him for being a snitch, but if I know the Pakhan he’s going to see things in a different light. In situations like that I’m not going to second guess him and make a decision that can come back to bite me in the ass.

The rear doors open and Dmitriy and Anastasia climb in.

“Everything in order?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah,” Dmitriy chuckles. “We left him in good hands.”

“
Horosho.
” I give him a curt nod as our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. Dmitriy is, in my opinion, an unsung Bratva hero, always in the background, always to be counted on.

It isn’t just the deep respect and more than a little fear that my boss inspires in his people that prompt me to be careful. It’s the fact that I will soon marry his only daughter -- the only woman for me -- and I’m not about to do anything to jeopardize our future together. Glazov isn’t above using my love for his daughter to manipulate me to his purpose. It’s all about control for him and he’ll do anything to get it and keep it—as well he should.

Oleg

“Sir…” I wait for the Pakhan to acknowledge me before I continue.

Glazov looks up from his laptop, his assessing gaze taking in my posture and facial expression, coming to his own conclusions about the reason for my visit.

“You’re troubled, son. Why?”

“You asked me to keep you up to date on the surveillance…”

He raises the sardonic brow of a man who’s losing his patience. “Yes, I did. Get to the point.”

“Yeah, get to the point,” Novak chimes in.

“Fuck you, Novak,” I mutter before I realize I’ve spoken.

“Boys, play nice,” Glazov drawls, rolling his eyes.

“It seems one of the men we’ve been following is either working with the DEA or he could possibly be an agent. I doubt he’s an agent, he’s too young, but at the very least he’s an informant. We observed him with a known DEA agent tonight in the alley behind the strip club he frequents.”

“And since you’re concerned enough to bring this to my attention, I’m assuming this agent isn’t on our payroll?”

“No, sir, he isn’t.”

“And this…” Glazov moves his hand in the air as if he’s trying to bring the man’s name to remembrance.

“Miguel Sanchez,” I offer.

“Yes, and this Miguel is the one who’s running his drug business from the same Venezuelan airstrips the diamond forgers are using?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such stupidity. Where is he now?”

“We have him tied up in the warehouse. He’s spending some quality time with The Tenderizer.”

Glazov leans back in his chair and interlocks his fingers behind his neck, a hum of satisfaction escaping his lips as he locks eyes with Novak. “Oleg, go back to the warehouse and oversee the efforts to make him talk. If the shipment of diamonds wasn’t a fluke, then this guy’s insignificant. All I need him for is to tell us who he takes his orders from. I want a name, Oleg. Then I will know who my enemy is.”

“Yes, Pakhan.”

With a curt nod, Glazov turns back to his laptop and I am dismissed. I’m reaching for the door knob when his ominous voice stops me in my tracks.

“Oh, and Oleg?”

“Yes, sir,” I reply as I turn back to face him. For just a moment, his eyes look as dead as mine, conveying his single-minded, unemotional commitment to the task at hand.

“Don’t come back without that name. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Pakhan.”