Page 52 of Den of Thieves

“Fucking Vadim,” Nikolai cursed, shaking his head.

After much negotiating, Vladimir decided to save his rocket launcher for emergencies only. He picked up his Bushmaster as the vans slowed to a stop a block away from the hideout. They weren’t out of the cargo vans for a minute before bullets were raining down on them.

Literally. There were men waiting with guns on balconies of the apartment building above them, taking out his men before they had a chance to aim.

David shot as many men as he could before he cussed, diving back behind the van. “Reloading,” he yelled as Vladimir stepped in to cover him.

Vladimir took out the two men overhead. He didn’t have time to watch their bodies fall over the railing. A blacked-out van blocked the other end of the alley. And at least thirty armed men filed out with automatic weapons trained on them.

Vladimir didn’t care for MAC-10s. They were mostly for novices that couldn’t hit a bullseye the size of the Kremlin. Most didn’t have the funds or the resources to learn how to aim with automatic weapons to be useful. Karina was one of the few people he knew that practiced with hers enough to be lethal. The woman was a killer shot with her trusty TEC 9s.

Vladimir and his cousins trained with heavy machinery from an early age. It was the Kovalyov way. These goons didn’t stand a chance. That didn’t mean they couldn’t do harm on their way to an early grave.

Chaos ensued for what felt like the next hour, as both sides fought for dominance.

“Fuck, reloading!” Vladimir yelled, diving back behind the one van that was not shot to shit.

“Reloading!” Dean dove beside him while Daniil and David covered them. “Vladimir, these guys are good. Their aim sucks but—”

“Each man has a target.”

Dean’s eyebrows went up, but he nodded. Vladimir got to his feet. They were taking out the enemy one by one, but these guys were like fucking ants. When one guy fell, another eagerly took his place.

“Ahh!” another one of Vladimir’s men fell to the ground and Nikolai dragged him out of sight while Venchi had his back. The taller man fired twice, hitting their assailant twice in the stomach and once in the head.

No one dragged him out of the way. Osvo’s men used their fallen as shields or barricades against the barrage of bullets aimed their way.

“Nikolai!” Vladimir snapped.

This was not how today was supposed to go. He wanted to squash his enemy like a bug. Quickly and effectively to show the world the Bratva had not fallen and won’t succumb to a coup any time soon.

Instead, he made the mistake of underestimating his enemies. Nikolai met Vladimir’s gaze with a grunt and a nod of acceptance. An excited smile split his face as he lowered his weapon in favor of the black and red case sitting behind the front seat. He grabbed the handle when his opposite arm was pulled, jerking his body out of the van. He stumbled back, just as a large shadow loomed over them.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Take cover!”

The sound of blades whirled overhead. Vladimir squinted, but he couldn’t tell who it was. The chopper did nothing to hide the setting sun, and he was forced to look away before he could confirm if the pilot was friend or foe.

Bright red light poured from the helicopter. Not a second later, the bullets tore through the enemy like a hot knife through fresh butter. Vladimir allowed himself to be pulled away once the rounds concentrated on the vans at the end of the alley.

He ducked around the corner, just as it exploded.

They all cheered before rushing inside the nearest building to regroup. They won the battle, but the war was far from over.

“Nikolai, get me an aerial shot,” Vladimir said as soon as the door closed.

His order was met with silence. Vladimir looked around, finally noticing that Nikolai, Venchi and half of their men got separated in the chaos.

“Fuck.”

19. “I Can Do Bad All By Myself.”

-TYLER PERRY

Karina paced back and forth with the rage of a caged tiger waiting to strike. She and Aksana ranted and raved for the past thirty minutes about the sexist idiosyncrasy that was the Bratva.

“This is bullshit!” Aksana yelled for the fifth time, kicking the trashcan in the wine cellar of the basement.

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