Page 6 of Maximus

CHAPTER 4

Maximus knocked on the hotel door after ensuring he wasn’t followed or tracked. A massive man resembling a younger, stronger version of Abrasha Molchalin answered the door. He uttered one word. “Maximus.”

Maximus gave his passcode, “Force.”

The man opened the door, revealing a forty-five in his hand, and ushered him in. “Val, Malice, and Reaper are in the kitchen. I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Why?” Maximus turned to look at the man. “My plans include you.”

“Excuse me?” Val said as she walked out of the kitchen with a glass of wine. “He’s still recovering from surgery.”

“Can he talk for himself?” Maximus asked and turned back to Smith. “I think you at the show would cause enough of a diversion and commotion with the guards that all of us would benefit.”

Smith crossed his arms over his chest. “I would like to know your plan before I agree.”

Max smiled. “I like him.” He jabbed his thumb at Smith while talking to Val.

“Yeah, well, I have you beat. I love him.” She went over and leaned against the wall of muscle as he protectively put his arm around one of the deadliest women in the world.

“Max, I’d say it’s been a long time, but then again, that would be an understatement,” Reaper said as he and Malice walked out of the kitchen. Malice had a sandwich, and Reaper had a drink in his hand. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

“Yeah, why’s that?” Malice asked.

“My mother doesn’t like the smell, and I never acquired a taste for it.” Max shrugged. Reaper chuckled. “Mommy issues?”

“Man, if you knew my mom, you’d have them, too. Are we ready to get down to business?” Max sat down in the chair nearest to him.

“Always,” Malice said. “What’s the plan?”

Max shrugged. “Killing Abrasha in a very loud, very public fashion.” He glanced at Smith. “Will that be an issue with you?”

Smith sat down on the couch with Val and leveled a stare at him. “Only if you fail.”

Max smiled at the man. “That won’t happen this time. All right. This is what I’ve worked out. Elena Ivanova is his art curator. I have an in with her. At this point, I have nothing indicating she’s in bed with Abrasha, but she’s worked with him for four years.”

Reaper whistled. “And she’s not dead?”

“Are you sure she’s not his mistress?” Val asked.

“From everything I’ve discovered, she’s a permanent resident of Sochi, and there’s nothing to indicate a relationship other than through art.” Max shrugged. “You can have Con or Jewell dig if you want, but they’ll find the same thing.”

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot you were good with computers, too,” Malice said with his mouth full of his last bite of sandwich.

“I know a thing or two,” Max acknowledged. They’d never know how good he was. No one would. “She’s planning two showings. One in two weeks, the next two weeks after that. She doesn’t know about the second showing.”

Smith narrowed his eyes. “Explain that, please.”

“I’ve enticed her with a ploy suggesting my clientele is selling a highly sought after painting. She’s sent Abrasha’s financials, all verified by Swiss banking protocols. I won’t make contact with her for a couple of days.”

“Letting her stew,” Reaper said, nodding.

“Exactly. Then I’ll casually run into her.” Max leaned forward and detailed the rest of his plan.

Smith looked at Val and nodded. She turned to him. “It has a lot of moving parts, but damn, I think you’ve got a good trap set up. The only thing I require is Smith to wear body armor.”

Smith rolled his eyes. “That would limit my ability to fight.”

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