Page 173 of Toxic Salvation
“M-my f-family…” he mumbles.
“They will be looked after,” I assure him. “I will keep my promise, Denis. I swear it.”
The fear on his face ebbs instantly. If it weren’t for the blood dripping from him, he’d look almost peaceful.
“Was it Ihor?” I ask. “Did he do this?”
I feel something at my wrist. Denis is trying to push something into my palm. It’s a scrap of fabric. A red skull stitched into black material.
“This is a gang sign,” I say.
“So not Ihor?” Osip asks in confusion.
“Denis, who gave you?—”
But when I look up from the scrap of fabric, Denis is already gone. His eyes stare unblinkingly into the street light hanging above us.
“Fuck.” I lay him back on the rough concrete. “Get his body off the street. I want him cleaned up and prepared for burial.”
“Do you think this was just a random attack?” Osip asks. “That gang sign—I’ve seen it before. They’re low-level. Not connected to the Bratvas.”
“But they can be paid to do a Bratva’s dirty work,” I growl. “Denis was Ihor’s right-hand man. The fact that he was targeted so soon after he defected is significant. Ihor may not have murdered Denis himself, but he sure as hell ordered this.”
Osip shakes his head. “I don’t get it. As far as Ihor is concerned, Denis is his man.”
“Don’t be so fucking stupid, Osip!” Pavel explodes, staring at Denis with regret. “It’s obvious what this means.”
Osip blinks at Pavel, his skin a sallow yellow under the street lamps. “Is it?”
I wipe the blood on my hands against the seat of my trousers. The red smears across the dark fabric. “Ihor knows.”
“Knows what, exactly?” Osip whispers, though I suspect he’s already come to the same conclusion.
“That Denis turned.” I stand up, my knees cracking. “That we got to him. That his most trusted lieutenant has been feeding us information for weeks.”
Pavel passes a hand over his face. “How is that possible? We were careful. Denis was careful.”
“Careful doesn’t mean invisible.” I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts. “Someone saw something. Someone talked. Or maybe Ihor’s just smarter than we gave him credit for.”
“What do we do now?” Osip asks.
I look down at Denis’s body one more time. A man who died because he chose the right side. A man who left behind wives and daughters who will never see him again.
“Now, we assume that Ihor knows everything Denis knew. Every location. Every safe house. Every plan we shared with him.” I start walking toward the car. “And we prepare for war.”
“What about the other men who turned?” Pavel asks, falling into step beside me. “Are they all compromised?”
“We have to act like they are.” I stop at the driver’s side door and look back at the grimy street corner where Denis died. “Contact every single one of them. Tell them to disappear for forty-eight hours. New locations, new phones, new everything.”
“And after forty-eight hours?”
“After forty-eight hours, we’ll know who else Ihor got to.” I open the car door. “Because anyone who doesn’t make contact by then is either dead or never really turned in the first place.”
Osip climbs into the passenger seat. “This changes everything.”
“No,” I correct him as I start the engine. “This changes nothing. We always knew Ihor was dangerous. We always knew he was smart. The only thing that’s changed is that now, we know he’s ready.”
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