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)
The first job was to understand who we were dealing with. I found photos of the Aristovs and pinned them to the wall. Gennadiy, the murderous crime boss we were focused on. Radimir, his older brother, with his three-piece suits and permanent icy scowl. Valentin, the younger brother, who was thought to be the family’s hitman. And then there was Mikhail, the brothers’ uncle, an older man who did most of the liaising with the rich and powerful and never went anywhere without his pack of Malamute dogs.
“Gennadiy Aristov?” Caroline twirled a lock of golden hair around her finger and blinked up at me nervously from behind her glasses. “I heard some guy once...displeased him and he beat him so hard, they couldn’t identify the body.”
Hadderwell sighed. Tall and balding, he was leaning against the wall, one eye on the stock trading app on his phone. “Brooks, you have no chance of taking this guy down.”
His buddy Fitch—short, squat, and with a thick, ginger mustache—put his feet up on a desk and grunted in agreement. “The guy’s serious.”
I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. “So am I.”
Early the next morning, I pulled up outside Gennadiy’s house, ready to start surveillance. I leaned forward, arms on the steering wheel, and just stared.
The place was massive, a beautiful three-story mansion at least a hundred years old, built from gray stone. What must a place like that cost, especially here, within easy driving distance of the city? Tens of millions, easily. And all of it from guns, drugs, and gambling. I felt the anger bloom in my chest, tensing my shoulders and then rolling down my spine. He’d got where he was by trampling the little people, by not caring who he hurt. Well, enough. My fingers squeezed the steering wheel. I’m taking you down.
One thing I had to grudgingly admit: the mansion was far more tasteful than the showy, tacky palaces most criminals spent their money on. He was a ruthless bastard…but he had class.
Then I got my second shock of the day. Gennadiy emerged from the mansion in a thunderstorm-gray suit and marched over to his BMW. He’s leaving already?! It wasn’t even seven a.m. yet! I’d gotten there what I thought was crazy early to make sure I caught him, but I hadn’t imagined him leaving for at least another hour or so. Apparently, he was an early riser, like me.
Gennadiy ran a hand lovingly over his car’s roof, then climbed in and drove off. I quickly started up my unmarked car and followed.
Usually, when we’re tailing a suspect, we’ll stay three cars behind them and keep passing them off between different agents so they don’t notice they’re being followed. But right now, I was staying close: I wanted Gennadiy to see me. I wanted him to know he was under surveillance.
He was sharp. Within just a few minutes, he was checking his mirrors. Then he made a couple of unnecessary turns, just to see if I’d follow, and I did.
At the next red light, our cars stopped close enough that I could see him glaring at me in his rear-view mirror, his gray eyes absolutely furious. I smiled sweetly, feeling a little thrill of victory. I wanted him pissed off and shaken, I wanted him pressured. Pressured criminals make mistakes, and mistakes are how I catch them.
At first, I thought it wasn’t working. He drove with mechanical precision to the gleaming skyscraper that housed Aristov Incorporated, the massive property company run by his brother. I waited for him outside, then followed him to the casino. Then to the docks. Aside from the scowls he gave me each time he climbed out of his car, it was like he was pretending I wasn’t there.
But no criminal can be calm with a cop breathing down their neck. As the day went on, I saw his shoulders start to hunch with tension and his driving becoming jerky. I was getting to him.
And then, just as the sun was setting, it happened.
He turned suddenly down an alley, and I missed the turn and had to reverse. For a second, I thought I’d lost him. Then I saw his car, down at the end. I accelerated...and then had to pull up fast when I realized his car was stopped. Too late, I saw that there was no one inside.
I saw movement in my peripheral vision, twisted around...and saw Gennadiy standing next to my car. He stared at me through the glass, his gray eyes breathtakingly cold. I swallowed. He was much, much taller than me, even when I was standing. Sitting down, it was like having a giant towering over me.
He put his hands on my car’s roof, like he was planning to rip it off. His fingers began a slow, deliberate drumbeat on the metal. His expression said, What are we going to do with you?