Page 28 of Demetri
Opening his computer, Victor clicks on the email, and the video file sent starts to play. As we watch footage of a small storage facility, in the location given to us last night, a silver car with tinted windows rolls into the frame. The car sits there for several minutes until another vehicle pulls in behind it. Three men step out of the silver car, none of which I recognize.
"Do you know them from anywhere?" I ask Victor as our eyes stay fixed on the screen.
"No."
The door to the other vehicle swings open and I watch a booted foot appear, planting itself on the gravel ground. I'd know those snakeskin boots anywhere.
"Fuck." Victor shakes his head as the rest of Sergei's body emerges from the shadows of the driver's seat.
I feel the cords in my necks tighten as a fiery rage builds inside of me as I watch a man I have known and put my trust in betray me. Sergei shakes the hands of each man, then walks to the storage building they've parked in front of. Removing a padlock, he lifts open the door. I continue to stay silent as one of the men takes a crowbar and opens one of the wooden boxes, then pulls out a gun. There is only one way Sergei could have gotten his hands on massive amounts of inventory. He stole it. From me. "Do we know where he is now?" I question as I bottle my anger.
"Luca is out looking for him now."
Snatching the clear vase from the table sitting in the center of the table, I hurled it across the room, watching it shatter against the brick wall. "Bring him in," I growl. I pause, controlling the urge to destroy everything around me. I let out a heavy breath. "Victor."
"Sir," he answers after quietly standing by while I lost my temper.
"Call Ruslan. I want him and his men out on the streets. I want them to do whatever it takes to find answers. I'm through playing these childish games of cat and mouse."
Forty minutes later,I'm pouring myself a drink, when Sergei walks into my office. "You wanted to see me, boss?"
"Have a seat." I lift the tumbler in my hand, "Drink?" I offer.
He laughs nervously, and his eyes dart around the room. "Uh, yeah, sure," he answers, and I give Victor the whiskey I poured, and he hands it to Sergei.
I pour another for myself. Crossing the room, I sit in the chair across from Sergei. The room falls silent, and the atmosphere in the room changes. "Tell me, Sergei. Have I not been good to you all these years?"
I notice the slight tremble of his hand. "Yes, Boss." His voice breaks a little when he answers.
"You've proven overtime I could trust you. I put you in charge of my companies whenever I'm away from home. Correct?"
Beads of sweat form above his brow, and he goes to stand. "What are you getting—"
His words are cut short when Victor clamps his hand down on Sergei's shoulder, forcing him back into his seat. "Mr. Volkov asked you a question."
Sergei swallows hard; his eyes fixed on me. "Yes."
Sitting my whiskey down, I lift my gun off the table and rest it on my lap. Leaning back in my chair, I drink in the fear written on his face for a moment before lifting my weapon and pulling the trigger. The bullet shatters Sergei's left knee. His screams of pain echo off the walls. "I have given you so much over the years, and you betray my faith in you by stealing from me." Blood from his wound soaks his pant leg and begins to pool around his shoe slowly. I stand, and his watery eyes stay on my every move.
"I didn't. I swear!" Sergei screeches. His lie earns him a blow to the side of his head with the butt of my gun.
"More lies," I bellow. "Tell me, Sergei. Where does one get millions of dollars' worth of artillery to sell to low life street thugs?" Sergei starts to open his fat trap once more, but I warn him. "Lying will only make this worse for you." I allow a few seconds for him to confess his sins. "You disappoint me," I tell him. Crossing the room, I set my gun down and snag a cigar from the box sitting on top of my desk. Picking up the cutter, I walk toward Sergei. "Do you know anything about the package delivered to the restaurant last night?" I ask, knowing he was made aware of the incident.
"Your new pussy means nothing to me," Sergei spews, spittle flies from his mouth. Turning, I pick up my gun and put a bullet in his other leg for his loose lips and disrespect toward my woman. Sergei roars through the pain.
"Fuck! I told you, it wasn't me who sent the package last night."
Cutting the cigar, I place it in my mouth. Grabbing Sergei's right hand, I slide his ring finger into the cigar cutter. He struggles to pull away. "You wear expensive things. Things my money has afforded you, and yet you feel as if you have nothing." Pressing down, the blade slices through his finger. I sit the cutter on the table beside him and wipe the blood on my hands off on the sleeve of his suit.
Cradling his hand, Sergei grinds his teeth. "You don't deserve what you have. The money or power." He laughs hysterically. "I don't fear you as these other poor bastards do. So yeah, I confess. I did it. I stole from you." He continues to laugh as the blood bubbles from his missing appendage, and the blood seeping from both legs gathers in more substantial quantities on the floor beneath him.
His words strike a nerve, and I snap. In the blink of an eye, I grab hold of his face and force the cold hard barrel of my gun in his mouth, and Sergei's eyes widen. "You feel that motherfucker?" I shove the barrel further down his throat until he starts to choke on it. "That's fear." I waste no more of my time on him and pull the fucking trigger.
After my adrenaline subsides, I pull the barrel out of his mouth and lay the gun on the table. Victor stands a few feet away, waiting for my orders as I stride across the room. Picking up my lighter, I light the cigar still hanging from my lips. "Someone get this shit cleaned up."
14
Glory
