Page 164 of Assassin

It was when his phone rang that he pulled it from his pocket, and he didn’t understand who would be calling him here.

It was a video call.

Hitting the answer button, he saw the emblem and then her face as she appeared to be on a jet.

Elizabeth Blackhawk.

“Well, well, well, Alexsandr. Welcome to the hood. How’s tricks?” she asked.

She’d been alerted by the wildlife cameras they hid in the trees that someone was at the warehouse, and she’d suspected who that was going to be.

A Russian rat.

“What is it that you want, you capitalistic pig?” he asked, his voice thick with animosity.

She laughed.

“Oink oink. You know how it is. What’s it like to be an autocrat’s bitch?” she asked, grinning.

He said nothing as the fire burned behind him—well, not at first.

“What do you want?” he finally said, wanting to cut her open and dance on her entrails.

She was blunt.

“We’re going to catch you. See, we have your face, the car you’re driving, and it won’t take me long to find your jet. Right now, I have agents hitting every small field in the area to find your way in and now, out. Just like Mommy and Daddy were tracked by Marines, you’re about to be too.”

For the first time in a long time, he felt fear.

Elizabeth wasn’t done.

“See, this was a trap. Once I found out that your ‘German’ mail-order bride was bringing you here, we needed you to make it into American airspace. If you spooked before then, I couldn’t hunt you like the dog you are. You walked right into my trap.”

He was furious.

And here, he thought that he had the upper hand since he was coming here a day early.

Fuck the Americans.

Elizabeth wasn’t done.

“You can’t leave the country, and it’s only a matter of time. Turn yourself in, and then, you don’t die.”

He laughed.

Oh, if he did what she asked, it would be far worse. He’d be spending his life in a cage. A concrete one called Gitmo.

Americans were never translucent with their plans.

“Never. You’ll never find me in this country. I have already sent my assassins out. It’s a matter of time.”

She smiled.

“Well, let’s see who’s better at hunting. My Marines or your state sponsored killers. I’m putting my money on the people that took out the Black Butcher and his programed, forced bride.”

He got angry.

No one talked about his mother like that.

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