Page 40 of Toxic Salvation
“Excellent. Now, you mentioned Ihor has dirt on other people. I want to know about that. Names, details, everything you know about his blackmail operation. Write it all down.”
“Whatever you need,pakhan.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I release him and he stumbles backward onto his couch.
Vasily looks like he might kiss my feet. Since I have enough of his filth on me already, I head for the door before he can try.
By the time I reach the street, Osip is already pacing under a lamppost, muttering curses in Russian.
“You need to work on your people skills,” I inform him.
He turns on his heel to face me. “You just let that piece of shit off the hook!”
“Haven’t you heard the saying that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?”
“Yeah, from my ninety-year-old grandmother, but she had dementia. What’s your excuse?”
I lean against the building, amused despite everything. “You can’t buy loyalty, Osip. You have to earn it.”
“You should have put a bullet in his brain.”
“And accomplished what? He’d be dead, we’d have no intel, and Ihor would know we’re onto him.” I shake my head. “This way, we get a complete picture of his operation. We get leverage. Then we offer everyone a better deal and watch his support crumble.”
“What guarantee do you have that Vasily isn’t calling Ihor right now?”
“I’m a decent judge of character,” I say. Osip snorts at that, but I continue, “Plus, I planted bugs throughout his apartment while we were talking. Every call, every conversation—we’ll hear it all.”
That stops his pacing. “Goddammit, man, why didn’t you lead with that?”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Come on, big guy. Let me buy you a drink. The expensive kind.”
“Now, you’re talking.” As we climb into the Range Rover, Osip’s mood shifts back to business. “Once you’ve destroyed Ihor’s network and turned his people… what then?”
“What do you think?”
He whistles low. “You’re really going to do it.”
“I can’t afford not to. Vesper’s pregnant, Luka needs stability, and Ihor has made it clear he’ll never stop being a threat.” I start the engine, my jaw tight. “Removing him from the Bratva isn’t enough anymore. I need him gone. Permanently.”
“Looks like we’re planning a funeral,” Osip remarks as he settles back in his seat.
I nod. “Get your black suit ready.”
15
KOVAN
Osip peers through his window, squinting at the bright lights illuminating St. Raphael’s entrance. “This is the hospital.”
“Brilliant observation.” I slide out of the passenger seat and walk around to his side. “Nothing gets past you.”
“I thought we were getting a drink.”
“You are.” I toss him some cash. “On the house. Find a pretty woman to share it with you. Oh, and…” I hand him my keys, too. “Take my car home.”
He catches the keys and vaults over the center console with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Once he settles behind the wheel, he cranks down the window and grins at me. “Any parting words?”
I roll my eyes. “None worth sharing with a cretin like you. And for God’s sake, wipe that ridiculous expression off your face.”
