Page 5 of The Enemy Protector
My father is coming.
I don’t want to think about how angry he’ll be. So I close my eyes and see green snake eyes.
I have so many questions. Who was he? Where was he?
By the time my father arrives with Gregor and Pavel and all the fury of a man who nearly lost the only thing he has left, I’m ready to sleep again.
And those green eyes are waiting for me in the blackness.
2
Sergei
PRESENT DAY
This city runs on information.
I built a network that tells me what’s happening before it happens. Who’s meeting who. What’s moving through my territory. Where it came from. Where it’s going.
That’s how I stayed alive long enough to take the head of the table. Nothing moves in this city without brushing my hand first.
Kirill sits across from me in my home office. He’s been my underboss for eleven years, and he knows better than to waste my time.
“Castellano moved two shipments through the West Side last week,” he says. “Same route. Same crew. He’s getting comfortable.”
“He’s getting sloppy.” I study the photograph. Three men. A loading dock. Timestamps that tell me Castellano’s operation hasn’t been tested in a while. “Let him. Comfortable men make comfortable mistakes.”
“Want to hit ’em?”
I catch the hopeful glint in Kirill’s eyes.
“No. Go on.”
“The Yee family is consolidating. Bought out two of the independents operating in Flushing.”
“Expected.” I set the report aside. “What about the ports?”
“Quiet.”
Good.
That means the pipeline is running the way I built it to run. No surprises. No mistakes. The men who survive in this city know where not to step.
I prefer reason. Blood is messier.
“And Baranov?” I ask like the name doesn’t make my stomach tighten.
“Close.”
“How close?”
“Mikhail had another episode last week. His doctor, the private one, not the one his people know about, is apparently recommending hospice within the year. Possibly sooner.”
I nod slowly, giving away nothing.
It’s just news.
“His people are already repositioning,” Kirill adds.
