Page 53 of The Brigadier

The man was almost always cool as a cucumber. It was something I’d admired about him. This morning, I could tell he was ready to burn the world down. Not that I blamed him. He had a wife, hints of a baby or six on the way, and a life thatfinally made him happy. To threaten that in any way was akin to starting a war.

I immediately placed the mug on the kitchen counter and headed to the front of the house, the weapon now in both hands. I’d need to risk my son seeing his father holding a gun. At some point, he’d need to learn the truth about me.

“They scaled the wall to get in,” I said, more in talking the situation through.

“Yeah, using grappling hooks and thick rope. Slick operation. No warning. No indication of who the fuck is responsible. No flicker of security. No strange views on the cameras. Nothing. Goddamn it. This crap isn’t supposed to be happening.”

No one fucked with his space any more than they did mine. “Pakhan. Allow your men to handle this for you. Get to a safehouse. Take your family with you and you keep your ass there.”

He hated it when I called him the Pakhan.

“Are you handling me now?” He was growling, which wasn’t a good sign for anyone else but it was just his frustration talking.

“Yes, I am. Deal with it. Whoever is doing this wants you rattled and guess what? You are, more than at any other time because he, she, or it touched a nerve. Stop. Think. Breathe. This is just a fucking charade. A masquerade ball where he’s inviting the players. If you think of it that way, maybe you can plan a little parting gift for the guests. If you know what I mean.”

There was no sound at all for a few seconds. Then he laughed like the man I knew. “You were always the single person who couldeasily put things into the kind of perspective that mattered. Calming yet cunning.”

“That’s me. The two C’s. Now, don’t act as if you’re freaked. Just leave town. Let me do some sleuthing.”

“Sleuthing. Good word. Yeah, I’ll get the family unit ready. I can handle every aspect of business from our other house. Caroline is pretty freaked. She gets what I do and always has. She can tolerate being followed around by my men, but this was a stark reminder of just how close to danger she remains. Aleksander is moving his family too, although he has yet to notice anyone lurking around his estate. I suggest you do the same. Whatever this attack meant, it’s getting ready to escalate.”

There was a large window considered bulletproof in the living room. I stood just in the morning shadows, staring out at the already busy street. Brighton Beach was always teeming with activity.

“Nothing facilitated this? No argument. No confrontation?” While my good friend was usually very good at keeping his temper, often he didn’t realize his pointed statements didn’t win him any favors. He’d become a very opinionated man.

I paid attention to the vehicles in the street, suddenly loathing the fact the house was so damn close. Of course any non-Russian organization would be a complete fool to dare consider attacking what were called the princes of Russian royalty, the complete regime. It might be a ridiculous title but was one that had been around for a long time. The old timers had fight left in them and would come to a scene with the full intent and purpose of brutally attacking the enemies.

That was one reason so many were attracted to the community. Protection. Teamwork. Rare these days. Still, I had a disturbing feeling that had been further ignited by the attack on Vadim.

“No. Yesterday was office paperwork mostly. I can tell you that Caroline was outside watering flowers and could swear she noticed two dark SUVs going by the gate more than once.”

“And your fucking guards didn’t see this?”

“Here’s the thing. It was during the exact few moments the guards shift to a new group. It was as if whoever planned this attack knew the timing.” Vadim wasn’t calming down.

Hell, neither was I.

“For the love of God. That means it was planned from the inside.” Why hadn’t we grilled our goddamn employees? Who had the most to lose? As my father used to tell me, anyone would sell their soul to the devil for the right price. Sadly, this hit close to home.

I checked my watch. The shift in guards was about to change. Two vehicles appeared I knew very well. Suddenly, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. I could feel something happening.

Vadim snorted. “I assure you a list is being developed.”

A list. We’d forgotten every aspect of why the old system used by his father and grandfather had worked and worked well. Including using intimidation to keep all employees honest, no matter the pay grade. And how was that done? Regular sweeps of their bank accounts to check for payoffs. Okay, that had been during a less complicated time of doing business.

In my mind it was just as easy, the ability to keep trackers on work computers and all forms of communication and social media easy enough. Even phones could easily be scanned. Instead of using the ever-increasing ways of spying on someone, Vadim had instead been determined to trust people.

Yeah, I was cranky as fuck and maybe a bit too old school, but that had made me very good at observation as well as catching assholes in the act just as they were getting started.

Something caught my eye and I remained glued to the window. A fucking dark SUV passing by slowly. Now, I was no fool; the streets of New York were filled with them. From celebrities to politicians, monsters to musicians, the vehicles could be equipped with everything from full-scale communications equipment and refreshment stations to certain bulletproof materials.

It was the new, improved limo.

What it also allowed for was blacked-out windows. Against the law or not. No one fucked with anyone behind smoked glass.

“What the hell, Nikolay? Did I lose you?” Vadim asked.

“I have a bad feeling this group is going from household to household.”

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