I kick, sweeping his legs out from under him. He topples over with a pained grunt. Still, the giant oaf refuses to give up. He rolls and sits up, reaching for his waistband again.
I draw my gun while he grapples for his and knock him over the skull with a loudthud.
He crumples and doesn’t move again.
One down.
With my gun in hand, I ease Lucy’s door open a crack.
A lanky man with a long, hawkish nose rummages through her makeshift desk. Seconds tick by as I stand there in silence, watching. Waiting. Biding my time and fighting to contain my anger while that asshole paws at Lucy’s stuff.
Another man emerges from her bedroom, empty-handed. His greasy dark hair is swept back in a tangled ponytail.
I push the door open a little bit more.
Ponytail’s head snaps up. “Lev?”
I stay silent.
“Get in here, Lev.” Ponytail’s Russian accent wafts through the ajar door.
A beat passes.
“Quit fucking around and help us search.”
I creep farther back behind the door.
Heavy footsteps approach. Someone curses in Russian while I steady my breathing. The footsteps draw closer.
Adrenaline courses through me as I sheathe my gun.
He should be here inthree.
Two.
The door flies open. “Kakogo cherta, Lev? What?—”
I snake an arm around Ponytail’s neck and interlock my fingers. “Sorry, man. Lev needed a little nap.”
His eyes widen, first with surprise, then fury. I don’t give him time to physically react. I put him in a chokehold, pressing down on his head and locking my arm around his neck.
He claws at my skin and attempts to scream, but I hold on tight and squeeze.
Even when the struggling slows, I maintain the pressure. Ponytail starts to sway.
His skin drains of color.
Once his eyes close and his body goes limp, I release him, and he collapses in a heap on the floor.
Another one down.
“Get in here,pobochnyy rebenok,” a deep, grimy voice commands from inside the apartment.
When I raise my head, I’m staring down the barrel of a gun.
Not the first time I’ve found myself in this predicament.
I eye him calmly. “Not happening.”