Chapter 24

24

Artur

P olina quivers in her chair, fury and despair warring in her eyes.

“Your father voted to have us killed,” I say, checking the clip in my gun, making sure that it’s full. “He walked into that meeting this morning, supposedly representing the Bratva. The organization that we are in charge of.”

“You didn’t have to kill him,” she says, her voice low, uneven.

Max scoffs, staring at the old man’s body. “Don’t lie to yourself. A crime like his could only be punished by death. He tried to make us out as pariahs just so he could get his grubby hands on the throne. Let this be a lesson to you, Polina. You reap what you sow.”

“He was my father!”

I give a lazy shrug. “Now, I believe Max here asked you a question. What are you going to do next? Are you going to give us what we want, or will you be begging us to kill you?”

She gives me a hard look. “You’d really torture me?”

“What makes you think you’re so fucking special?” Ivan snarls. “You bugged our office. You put Lyric in danger. You conspired against us. By all existing logic, I’m well within my rights to do whatever the hell I want to you.”

“Smith and Bowman took Lyric, and we need to get her back alive,” I say.

“I didn’t have anything to do with that!”

“Even if you didn’t, I know daddy dearest over there couldn’t keep his trap shut whenever he thought he had the upper hand. This is the last time I’m going to ask you for your help, or I swear to God, you will wish you were never born.”

“What address did they give you?” she asks after a long and heavy silence.

“45th and Lennox,” Max says.

“She’s not going to be there,” Polina replies. “It’s probably just a setup to get the three of you in one go. They’ll most likely return her to her father once it’s done.”

“What did they say during the meeting?” I ask.

She narrows her icy blue eyes at me. I can see the loathing and contempt, but I don’t care. I only care about getting Lyric away from Smith and Bowman. “Bowman said he’ll keep her out of harm’s way to ensure he’ll have Phelps’s support after it’s over. They go way back, apparently.”

“Yeah, we heard,” Max says.

“He’s going to take her to the FBI field office,” Polina says. “From what I understood, once they caught her, she’d be held somewhere nearby until she’s made compliant, and then they would bring her over to Smith’s turf.”

“It makes sense,” I sigh deeply, “and it’s fucking impenetrable.”

“That’s what Bowman was relying on,” Polina says. “My father asked him this morning how he could keep her there, legally speaking. Not every agent is on his and Smith’s payroll. It’s more of a shadow organization operating from the same building as the fucking Feds.”

“It’s how they made it work so well over the years—hiding in plain sight and behind legitimate FBI badges. We don’t even know how many of them are dirty,” Max mutters.

Ivan raises an eyebrow. “I’d rather assume they’re all dirty.”

“Assuming that would get us killed faster than us showing up at 45th and Lennox,” I tell him. “It’s precisely what Bowman wants. It’ll make quite the show for the media, for sure. ‘Bratva bosses storm the FBI’s Chicago field office, leaving nothing but carnage behind.’ No, we can’t play it like that.”

“You need a different approach,” Polina says. “They’re expecting you at that address. Right now, the three of you have a minor advantage, knowing where they’re keeping your bitch.”

“I will hit a woman,” I throw a nasty glower her way. “Don’t fucking test me.”

Polina rolls her eyes and it seems to me like she is finally ready to accept her fate. She’s moving fast through those stages of grief. Her instinct to survive has prevailed tonight.

“You’ll probably need a diversion at 45th and Lennox,” Polina sighs. “Something to keep Bowman’s hitmen busy while you deal with the field office. He and Smith are likely going to be there.”

Max comes closer, giving me a worried look. “We need a plan. We can’t just walk into that fucking building.”

“I know. We don’t have that many options, though. None that make me feel confident about our chances of survival anyway,” I say to him.

“If we do this,” Ivan cuts in, “we take them all down. Bowman, Smith, Phelps. We end it all tonight. Bring the whole Bratva in. For too long, they’ve tried to push us into a corner for their own gain. It has to stop. If we don’t deliver the definitive blow, we’ll lose the trust and respect of the other families. It’s why they voted against us this morning. We need to earn their trust back.”

“And what better way than to lay siege on the fucking FBI’s Chicago field office?” I chuckle, well aware that what Ivan says makes a ton of sense.

As much as we hate to admit it, he’s right. This morning’s vote was an alarm signal for us as leaders of the Bratva. We lost the confidence of some of our allies and partners. The other families think they’ve got the juice to take us down.

If we’re to succeed, if we’re to steer the Bratva in a different direction and earn their trust back, we need to do so decisively and mercilessly.

“I guess we’re going to war tonight,” I mumble, shaking my head slowly.

Max puts a hand on my shoulder. “We won’t be alone.”

“I’m on it,” Ivan says as he takes out his phone and starts making calls.

This is more than a rescue operation. It’s more than revenge. Definitely more than mere defense. We’re rallying our fighters from all over the city to help us. But at the same time, we need a subtler, more intelligent approach from a different angle. Matthew Phelps needs to go down tonight as well.

One way or another, we have to end it all before midnight.