Page 115 of The Enemy Protector
Sergei
I get a call from an unknown number. Not unheard of, but it doesn’t happen often. Usually, it’s someone in the law warning me I’m about to get raided.
“Yes?” I answer.
“Sokolov.” An unfamiliar voice with a heavy Russian accent has me sitting up a little straighter. “You want to stop what’s happening at Baranov warehouse B? Midnight.”
The line goes dead before I can respond.
It could be a trap. Probably is a trap. But if there’s even a chance this is legitimate intelligence about an active operation, I can’t ignore it.
Sofia went to bed an hour ago. Or went to her room, anyway. We haven’t shared a bed since our fight three days ago. She’s been cold. Treating me like a business associate instead of her husband.
I deserve it.
And I might have encouraged it. Nelson told me she wasn’t talking to him either. But he told me she’s back to her old self. That was the goal. Yuri is not fucking around. He will come for her. I feel it. She doesn’t have to save her own life, but she needs to assist my men in keeping her ass alive.
I grab my jacket and my gun. Kirill is in the sitting room watching something on his tablet.
“I need you here,” I tell him. “Sofia doesn’t leave this house.”
He looks up, immediately alert. “Where are you going?”
“Anonymous tip.”
“That’s a trap.”
“Probably.”
“You’re not going alone.” He’s on his feet and opening the safe in the floor. “We’ve got enough security here.”
It’s hard to remember I’m the pakhan. I get killed and it isn’t just me that dies. My crew will be attacked from all sides. Innocent people will die.
“Fine, but just us. We’re only observing.”
He smirks. “Sure.”
I take my personal car, not the SUV. Less conspicuous. The drive to Greenpoint takes twenty minutes. I park two blocks away, and we approach on foot.
The warehouse looks quiet from the outside. No unusual activity. No guards posted at the entrance.
That’s the first sign something’s wrong.
“We should call back up,” Kirill says.
“We’re just taking a look.”
I pull my gun and ease the door open.
The powerful mentholated smell hits me first. And then the metallic smell of blood.
Kirill nudges me once. The smart move would be to call a team.
I shake my head once.
Male voices speaking in Russian come from inside. At least three distinct speakers.
We stay in the shadows as we move deeper into the warehouse.
