Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
I was standing in the underground parking lot of a half-built apartment building. Radimir used it as a tax write-off: it had been under construction for over five years but never actually completed. That meant no one ever came down to its basement parking level. If they had, they’d have gotten quite a shock.
I turned a slow circle. Eighteen cars gleamed under the cool white lights, and every one of them was the sort of supercar people dream about. Lamborghinis, Ferraris, a Pagani Zonda…there was even a Bugatti Veyron. Some of the cars we sold for cash, but most were used as bribes: some people are rich enough that they’re immune to money, but no one can resist their childhood dream car. The garage had become like my own personal museum. Cars came and went over the months, but the overall collection felt like mine.
I smiled and ran my hand over the flank of a beautiful silver Aston Martin. “What’s our plan for this one?” I asked.
Valentin sighed, relieved that I had my head back in the game. “That’s being shipped to India, to one of Selina Kirk-Hughes’s sales—” he broke off. “Is that…?”
I looked up at the ceiling. I could hear it, too: a police siren, coming closer. “Probably just passing by.”
We waited for the Doppler shift as the siren went by us. But it just kept getting louder, and now I could hear others, a rising chorus. “It can’t be us,” I said. “No one knows we’re down here.” From the outside, the building looked like a dark, disused construction site.
But then the sirens reached full volume...and stopped, right above us.
“Chyort,” breathed Valentin. We both started looking for an exit. Except...this was a basement. All the exits led upwards, towards the cops. We looked at each other in horror. Radimir owned the building through a complex series of holding companies: no one could tie it to us. But if we were caught down here with four million dollars’ worth of stolen cars…
Voices, upstairs. Coming rapidly down the stairs.
Valentin, ever resourceful, ran to a drain cover and levered it up. Both of us recoiled as the stench of the sewer hit us. Valentin climbed in and started descending the ladder. “Come on!” he hissed. “You want to go to jail?”
I hesitated, looking around. I couldn’t lose all this. Not my cars! My brain refused to accept that the raid was happening. No one knows about this place. They can’t have found it, it’s not possible!
Then I heard a familiar female voice, rising above the others. “You two, down there. The rest of you on the south side!”
Alison! And suddenly, it was possible.
I scrambled into the sewer and slid the drain cover closed above my head. Before I could even climb down the ladder, boots clattered above me as cops swarmed the garage. I hung there, squeezing the rungs in silent fury. Goddamn you, Brooks! The drain cover had a couple of tiny square holes in it and when I shifted my head, I glimpsed her: hands on her hips, scowling at the cars. “They must be here somewhere!” she yelled. “Search everywhere!”
Very, very quietly, I climbed down the ladder into hip-deep, stinking water and crept away.
Valentin and I had to wade for half a mile before we could climb back up. We emerged down the street from the garage, filthy and coughing from the smell. I wiped my hands on my suit and looked at the ring of red and blue lights encircling the garage.
Gone. Four million dollars' worth of cars. Four million! It wasn’t just the money; it was the power they could have bought us. They could have been used to smooth things over with district attorneys or bribe judges. And in some stupid, childish way, they’d been mine.
The anger expanded in my chest, and I paced, unable to stand still. Alison. She must have figured out, somehow, that I was behind the car thefts and found the common link between the owners: they’d all visited the same restaurant. She’d probably put a tracker on one of the cars, let me steal it, and then follow it to the garage. Yebat’! How dare she? How fucking dare she?! I drew in a shuddering breath, every muscle tight with rage. I’d never hated anyone so much, but, even now, the memory of her soft skin, the feel of her pussy caressing my cock through those tight, tight leggings…
“Blyat’!” I yelled. “Blya, blya...Blyat’!” I picked up the drain cover and hurled it at the nearest parked car, caving in its hood and shattering the windshield. The alarm started to blare.
Valentin put his hand on my arm. “Gennadiy?”
I spun around. “Leave me alone!” I roared.
He stumbled back...and the look on his face made me freeze. He was shocked, wounded...even a little afraid. And that felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. The anger blew away like mist and, for the first time in months, I saw clearly.