Page 31 of Den of Thieves

“Aunt Portia,” he called out to the woman that ran the kitchen. She helped his family so much over the years that she became like family.

“Alvin, what a lovely surprise.” She fluttered over faster than he thought possible for such a small woman. “Hilda is a saint. We just ran out.”

She took the pot and paused, looking him up and down.

“You should get some rest. You look exhausted,” she said, patting his cheek. Then she was on her way to check up on those in line for a warm meal and shelter from the brisk spring night.

Alvin yawned, stepping outside. The rain slowed to a sprinkle. Across the street, a large group of at least ten men gathered in the rundown park.

Well, that explains the cars, he thought. He turned right, headed back towards his car, but something about the men across the way didn’t feel right.

What were so many expensive SUVs doing in this hellhole? One man spoke adamantly, but Alvin was too far away to hear the words. He waved a fist in the air and his entourage yelled in response. When they separated, the man speaking stepped into the spotlight.

Alvin gasped; he didn’t know there was a meeting tonight. And why would they strategize in such a public place? Before thinking about it, he raised his hand and called out a greeting. The men surrounding the light post turned around, and a cold jolt of fear tingled down his spine.

Alvin knew those men, not all of them, but more than a few were identified in the King’s briefing earlier that week. These were not men that were on the fence about where their loyalties lied. They were the enemy.

Alvin dropped his arm and after calculating the distance between him and where he parked to be too far for a clean getaway, he hightailed it in the other direction.

“Hey! Stop!”

Alvin quickened his pace, flat out running as soon as he rounded the corner.

“Call Nikolai.” He panted into his phone.

“You’ve reached Nikolai Kovalyov, I’m busy.” *Beep*

“Fuck!” Alvin hung up and redialed.

The rain picked up again. He could barely see two yards in front of him. Luckily, he had a cousin that lived in the next building. If he could just make it to the buzzer.

“Ah!”

The gunshot echoed down the street. Alvin knew one or all of them were carrying, but he expected a warning shot first.

He wasn’t prepared for the searing pain that radiated throughout the left side of his back. The rain’s temperature was opposite of the hot warmth of his blood that pooled beneath his crumbled body.

“Hello? Alvin? What was that noise?” Nikolai’s voice echoed around him, but he didn’t have the words or energy to tell him where he was or what he’d just discovered.

Alvin never learned to swim, so the concept of not breathing was foreign and pure agony. He struggled in vain against the burning sensations in his chest. Choking was unavoidable as he fought to seize the oxygen he once took for granted. Spots dotted his eyes until his vision tunneled to a narrow sliver of light.

Death’s presence hovered nearby. The blood had become too much of a burden on his lungs. The last thing he saw was the long line of red disappearing down the storm drain.

12. “You’ll Achieve More From Being Absent, Than in the Eye of the Storm.”

-The Sun

Vladimir watched the men filter into the conference room. On the outside, the twelve gentlemen looked calm and dressed for success. But looks can be deceiving. The Bratva was on edge and the skin underneath the tailored cloth was covered in scars and tattoos that spoke to the danger each man was truly capable of.

He frowned, stroking his chin at the noticeably empty seat on the far side of the table.

“Where is Luka?” he ground out, irritated at the pakhan’s unexcused tardiness. It wasn’t like Luka Pavlov to be late for anything. The man prided himself on letting others know his family has been a part of the Bratva since nearly the beginning.

Everyone shrugged, looking amongst themselves. A nagging feeling that something was wrong seconds before Kristoff jumped out of his chair.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, looking at his phone. He flipped it around and showed the encrypted video message of masked men breaking into a house, abducting a woman, and shooting a man in less than thirty seconds.

“Who’s house is that?”

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