Page 103 of Sexting the Pakhan

Kirill starts crying harder. “I was going to move it.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“When?” I ask again.

“Tonight,” Kirill says. “Lenkov said tonight. He heard people were checking Yard Seven. He said we had to move it before morning.”

Stepan looks at me.

That part matters. If Lenkov is moving tonight, we don’t have much time.

“What is in the cases?” I ask.

Kirill says, “I didn’t open them.”

I look at Pavel.

Pavel says, “Two cases from the route-data shipment, three customs seal cases, one cash case.”

Stepan’s face tightens.

The money is annoying. The route data and customs seals are worse. In the wrong hands, they don’t just cost money. They expose movement, people, timings, and names that keep other names alive.

I look back at Kirill. “Who was buying?”

Kirill’s mouth opens. No sound comes out.

Dima says, “Here we go.”

I wait.

Kirill whispers, “I don’t know his name.”

I almost hit him again, but Stepan speaks first.

“Description,” he says.

Kirill looks grateful for the easier question. “Older. Maybe fifty. Gray beard. He came in a black Mercedes. Lenkov talked to him. I stayed outside.”

“When?” Pavel asks.

“Last week,” Kirill says. “Behind the gas station on Eighth.”

Pavel writes it down.

I ask, “Levin?”

Kirill hesitates.

That’s enough.

“You heard Levin’s name,” I say.

Kirill says, “Lenkov said it once. He said Levin’s people pay better when the delivery is complete.”

Stepan’s eyes move to mine.