Page 89 of Skin Deep

Church folded his hands together on the tabletop. “I was in Her Royal Majesty’s Special Air Service Regiment, G Squadron based out of Manchester. I’ve seen combat on two continents and in the air. Before that, I survived training at altitudes and in conditions that would make your soldiers weep. I’ve been shot, stabbed, kidnapped, and tortured. Back home, I’m a bloody war hero. I imagine it means quite little to you Yanks, however, so allow me to put it in terms you can understand. I am one badass motherfucker with more training and a body count higher than most of you put together, and I have more class than all of you. I also make one damn fine cup of tea. Any more questions?”

I glared at Xander, hoping he’d get the message to shut up. He frowned and leaned back in his chair, pouting in silence.

“He might be right,” Aleksi volunteered. “We were able to pull the wool over their eyes at the factory, but Simeon would have put his best men on Sergei. He’s expecting you to go after him. And even with the few men Nikita and I have available, we’re still outmatched. I’d rather not risk our people if we don’t have to.”

“And what will people say when they hear that the Russians hired a bunch of mercs to win their coup for them?” Xavier asked.

Aleksi shrugged. “Probably nothing. Anyone who would object to it will be dead.”

“Enough.” I rubbed my temples. “It doesn’t matter to us what the Russians do. This isn’t about that. We want Sergei. Killing Simeon’s men is a secondary objective.”

I turned to Pax, studying him. It had been over twenty-four hours since both of us thought we were dead men. I didn’t want to risk him again. I certainly didn’t want to risk my brothers. They might be good shots, but they could also be impulsive. While we were trained to kill, infiltrating a guarded compound to extract a single man alive required communication and more manpower than we had. Boone was right about that much.

“A lot of guards to keep a murderer safe,” I tapped my fingers on the table in thought. “But he’s not just a murderer and Simeon’s grandson, is he?” I looked over at Aleksi. “So much for making Sergei your shit boy.”

Aleksi sighed and spread his hands wide. “What do you want me to do, eh? I was heir apparent until I wasn’t. The split in the family is done. I have my men and Sergei has his.”

“When I hand you your throne, Aleksi, you had better not fucking forget who put you there,” I said coldly.

Aleksi bowed his head. “I don’t forget my friends. Everyone at this table is an ally. I hope.”

“Long as I’m gettin’ paid, I’ll put on a bonnet and dance the Charleston, baby,” Boone said.

“Speaking of getting paid, how much is your assistance going to cost?” I asked.

Boone shrugged. “One fifty.”

“Fuck that,” River spat and shook his head.

Pax frowned at me. “A hundred and fifty…”

“Thousand,” Boone supplied. “And the way I figure, that’s a fuckin’ discount. It’s nine big ones a head and there are twenty-one heads. I’m doing four and one third heads for free.”

“You can do better,” I said.

Boone leaned forward with a sneer. “I’m sorry. You seem to be under the impression that the price is negotiable, sweetheart. It ain’t.”

“Fifty,” I countered.

He snorted. “Darlin’, please. Don’t insult my talent. Look, I’ll come down to one twenty, but I can’t take a penny less.”

“Seventy-five,” I said, “And you’ll get me, River, and Pax.”

“Wait a minute,” Xander said with a frown. “Why not me and Xavier?”

“Because you’ve got a broken arm,” I growled, “and Xavier’s useless with a gun.”

Xavier shrugged in agreement. “He’s got a point.”

Boone drew his fingers through his beard. “I might be willing to come down some more if you’re putting yourselves on the line, but…”

“I’m going to write down an offer,” Shepherd said, whipping out a pen and paper from his suit pocket. “As long as you don’t read it out loud, and everyone walks away alive, I will pay one third from my personal funds. The Laskin family will pay another third, and the Volkovs will carry the final third. Half up front and half plus the bonus to be delivered after.” He scribbled something on his paper.

I leaned forward, trying to get a peek at the number he wrote down, but he folded the paper before I could see and slid it across the table to Boone. Boone smirked and collected the paper, unfolding it and skimming it with wide eyes.

I caught Shepherd’s eye and mouthed, “What the fuck?”

“Trust me,” he mouthed back.

---