Page 39 of A Life Imagined
Marsela’s teasing tone turned cold.“The product in the crate—we want it back.”
“And by ‘we,’ you’re referring to your small group of investors?”
“They’re not as small as you think.And they’re not afraid to throw their weight around.”
“So who’re we talking?The Bergs, Osmani?”
There was a long pause.“What do you know about the families?”she asked.
“Only what I’ve heard in passing.”
“Then you’ve heard enough to know you’re messing with the wrong people.If you don’t return what’s ours—”
“Then what?”he challenged, not about to be cowed by this woman and her crew of Balkan gangsters.
“You don’t want to find out.”
The line went dead.
Mathias thrummed his fingers against the desk.Despite her threats, Marsela’s maneuvering felt toothless, almost tame.She was getting something out of their back-and-forth, and he couldn’t put his finger on what.
Preoccupied, he was taken off guard when the office door swung open and Rayan strode in.He was wearing a suit, and his face was set in an angry frown.Mathias blinked, briefly transported to the past, as though Rayan had transformed back into his second.
“Didn’t know it was dress-up day,” he remarked, covering his surprise.
Rayan unfolded the piece of paper in his hand and splayed it out across Mathias’s desk.It was a map of continental Europe that had been marked up in several places with black pen.“I went to see the mayor.”
“And you two are planning a vacation?”Mathias asked as he peered at the scribbles Rayan had made across the map.Rayan scowled at him, and Mathias relented.“I take it things didn’t go well with Durand.”
“I’m here for a favor.”
Mathias stilled.The man wasn’t asking to borrow the car.What he wanted involved something from before.Rayan wasn’t an idiot—he knew there were activities Mathias still dabbled in that stretched the definition oflegal.Mathias was too pragmatic to let needless regulation get in the way of his success.They’d never directly discussed the topic, but Mathias had known to keep Rayan out of his affairs.And Rayan—for the most part—had chosen to look the other way.That was, until now.He’d been witness to enough of Mathias’s negotiations during his time—IOUs carefully distributed and later meticulously collected.If he wanted something off the menu, Rayan would have to be willing to pay for it.
“You know how this works.I don’t give them away for free.Even to you.”
“I know.I intend to repay it.”
“How, I wonder?”Mathias asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Let me worry about that.”
“I’m not going to knock him off.”
“Jesus,” Rayan hissed, glancing at the door and lowering his voice.“I’m not asking you to whack the mayor.”
“So, what is this favor?”
“There are smaller gangs—hustlers who prey on migrant encampments.They pick up men and take them to work illegally out east on construction sites, in mines and factories.The groups negotiate contracts with these businesses and profit from the forced labor.”Rayan indicated to the points he’d marked on the map.“We’re aware of several places in Poland and the Czech Republic, but there are many more.And without knowing which group is involved, it becomes almost impossible to find them.”
Mathias could see where this was heading.
“I need to track down someone who’s been picked up.I thought you might still have connections out east who’d have more information.”
“You mean the Russians,” Mathias said.The Bratva had a fair amount to do with smuggling people into Europe through the eastern borders and would no doubt be familiar with the groups that operated inside the continent.
Rayan nodded.
“Who is this someone?”
