Page 57 of Deadly Legacy
Stepan muttered something in Russian, his usual stoicism cracking at the sight of dozens of surveillance photos covering the adjacent wall. Every image featured Reuben; leaving their building, at business meetings, even sitting alone at their regular restaurant.
Nikon moved closer, blood pulsing in his temples. The largest screen showed Matthew Capital’s main conference room, the feed active and clear.
“He’s been watching us. Watching Reuben.” Nikon’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears.
Files covered a steel table, labeled with dates and locations. Nikon flipped through them—detailed reports on Reuben’s movements, transcripts of business calls, personal routines. A folder marked “Weaknesses” contained analyses of their arguments, potential pressure points in their relationship.
“Sir.” Stepan nodded toward a map on the opposite wall. Red pins marked Matvei properties, blue ones indicated Matthew Capital locations. Yellow sticky notes detailed security weaknesses.
The radio interrupted. “All of Dmitrii’s men at the north property are secured.”
“South location clear,” another voice confirmed. “Found their money stash. Ten million, at least.”
“Surveillance hub equipment destroyed. All hard drives secured.”
The intel from each location had built a picture of Dmitrii’s crumbling empire. With every report, Nikon imagined a noose tightening around his enemy’s neck.
A small red light blinked on one of the consoles. Someone was watching. The camera above the main monitor swiveled toward them.
“He knows we’re here.” Nikon gestured sharply toward the security feeds, already turning on his heel. “Move. Now.” He strode forward without looking back, gun at the ready, each step quick and purposeful.
They pushed deeper into the facility, past storage rooms containing enough weapons to equip a small army. The construction changed from aging boatyard structures to reinforced concrete. It was a bunker built for a siege.
A door at the end of the hall stood partially open. As they approached, a single gunshot rang out. Nikon flattened himself against the wall, signaling the team to hold position. From inside, heated voices argued.
“—going to die for your stupid pride!”
“I have men coming—”
“They’ve taken everything else! You think anyone’s coming now?”
Dmitrii. The voice carried the distinctive smooth tone Nikon remembered, now cracked with panic.
Stepan raised three fingers, then two, then one. They burst through the door.
The smell hit him first, sweat mingling with expensive cologne. The room was a command center, though far more rudimentary than the previous setup; hastily assembledequipment on folding tables, cables snaking across concrete floors.
Two men spun toward the entrance: Dmitrii in an expensive suit, now rumpled from stress, and a broad-shouldered man Nikon recognized as Dmitrii’s personal bodyguard.
The bodyguard raised his weapon. Stepan fired first, hitting him in the shoulder. The man dropped his gun, clutching his wound.
Dmitrii backed toward a steel door on the far side of the room, eyes darting between Nikon and the exit. He spread his arms with a mocking smile. “Ah, Matvei... didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to interrupt?”
“My mother taught me plenty.” Nikon gestured toward the screens displaying their private spaces. “Including how to deal with men who make things personal.”
“Personal?” Dmitrii’s laugh was hollow. “This is war. Your clever pretty boy made you weak. Made you vulnerable.”
The bodyguard looked between them, blood seeping between his fingers. Understanding dawned in his eyes, a survival instinct flickering. He raised his good hand in surrender, sliding away from Dmitrii.
“Smart man.” Nikon nodded toward Stepan, who moved to secure the bodyguard. “Shame you work for someone with poorer judgment.”
“You think I didn’t plan for this? For you?” His hand inched toward his jacket. “I’ve been ten steps ahead of you from the beginning.”
“I wouldn’t.” Nikon kept his gun trained on Dmitrii’s chest. “It ends now.”
Dmitrii backed toward the steel door, each word dripping with manufactured pain. “The great Nikon Matvei. You think I wanted what you built? The empire, the respect?” His eyes kept darting between Nikon and his escape route, the theatricaldisplay betraying his true intent. “That pretty boy who crawled under your skin. Tell me, Nikon, does he know the monster he sleeps beside, or have you fooled him too?”
Nikon recognized the familiar stalling tactics. “You’ve only known how to destroy or steal. Never build.” He took another step forward. “That’s why you’ll always lose.”
