Page 25 of Lord of Ruin

“Yes, but with baggage in tow. Viktor Marku wants to draw us out in the open. I don’t think he enjoyed losing two of his best men. It might have something to do with our ports.”

“As we suspected but I sense something occurred other than tracking down the goofball brothers. You’re thinking weapons sales?”

“Yes.”

“And this baggage?”

“Let’s call it unanticipated but with a five-foot six-inch hourglass figure.”

Her hateful look was the least of my worries at this point.

“What? Jesus Christ, how?”

“I’ll explain when we get there. Will you grease Gabriel’s palm to provide one more cleanup crew if I give you an address?”

He laughed. “You’re going to owe me.”

“Yeah, well, put it on my tab.” At this point, she was paying close attention to what was being said.

“Yeah, I’ll call him. Incidentally, so far there’s no issues with other members of the Brotherhood hearing about our Canadian friend Justin. Other than they agree it’s a joke being played.”

“I don’t think it’s a joke. I think someone is playing us.”

“Agree,” Phoenix huffed.

“Well, I have a bad feeling the Brotherhood might come to the same conclusions I have.”

“And that is?”

I glanced out the window. I loathed conspiracy theories but at this point, I had no clue what to think. “The Death Squad. While Viktor is an issue that we need to address, I have the distinct feeling Trudeau is nothing more than a warning of things to come from another entity entirely. If not the Death Squad, then who and why would they go to such trouble to cause us an issue?”

“Your theory is possible, but let’s not jump to conclusions. I’ll give Gabriel a call about the cleanup and mention this to him as well. Text me the address.”

“Will do. I think we should have a meeting of the family as well.”

“Agreed. Let me know when you’re close to the house and I’ll make my way over. Although I can’t stay too long. I have a birthday party to plan.”

“Oh, my God, you’re so domesticated.” At least I could smile briefly at this point.

“You have no idea, brother. It’ll happen to you one day.”

“Not this guy.”

As soon as I hung up the phone, she laughed, but not a happy laugh by anyone’s standards. It was almost evil, definitely maniacal.

“A cleanup crew. Does that mean some assholes are going to break into my place and swipe off the blood?”

“Yes, Jenna. That’s exactly what it means. Now, what’s the address of your clinic?”

“Why should I give it to you?”

“Because I doubt you want your landlord to come into your place and see a dead body in a pool of blood. Eventually, New York’s finest will want to have a long chat with you.”

Her eyes opened wide, the hatred still there.

But she gave me the address.

“And I’m five foot eight. Just so you know.”

---