Deceitful Lies by Brook Wilder
Chapter 42
Andrei
The panorama from the high-rise office building inspires pride as I admire a view that only money can buy. The Manhattan skyline is illuminated by the late afternoon sun, humbling me amidst its vast empire of glass and steel.
I tug at my tie.
The Bratva cannot run on crime alone. Legitimate businesses shield the shady ones, and my construction and real estate ventures also require attention if they’re to remain profitable. So, I meet with all my workers—Bratva or not—in my midtown office weekly.
Straight or not, it brings out the competitor in me. I’m a slave to my ambition, unable to escape its bonds.
A knock at the door brings me back to the present. My secretary, Greta, enters, smiling and utterly unaware of what I do late at night. “Mr. Barinov? They’re ready for you in the boardroom.”
She’s a brunette fresh out of Baruch with a business degree. She may be eager to learn, but I can’t have her knowing too much. Today, I need her out of the way so the Bratva can talk privately and discuss our next move.
“Thank you, Greta,” I reply. “Could you run an errand this afternoon? It may take a while.”
She nods. “Of course, boss.”
I silently enter the boardroom and pull the door behind me until it clicks shut. Every man around the table this afternoon is Bratva. Dmitri sits at one end of the conference room table, and I sit down at the other. It’s time for a progress report on the orders we carried out last night.
Dmitri starts the meeting by getting to the point. “Viktor, give us your report first.”
The young man fidgets before speaking to the group and looks as if he’d rather face an armed enemy.
“The Karamazov safe house is located a safe distance from its nearest neighbor,” he starts, haltingly at first, but his voice gains confidence with every word. “Around 4:00 a.m., I got out of a rented car and crept through the empty streets toward the house. I was told where the security cameras were located, so crossing the lawn and scaling the fence was easy. No one saw me.
“I climbed to the second floor and easily opened a bedroom window.” He clears his throat several times. “It wasn’t locked. My target was sound asleep in a queen-sized bed, unarmed, with a woman next to him. She spent the night sleeping in bed beside a corpse, unaware of what happened.”
A murmur of approval fills the room, and men heartily acknowledge Viktor’s first kill.
“Molodets, molodoi chelovek.” Dmitri claps his hands together a few times. “Nice and clean.”
The rest of the day is spent in my office. Legitimate business is hard work, but it’s not dangerous shuffling papers and listening to subordinates recite figures. By the end of the day, I’m over it. My thoughts wander back home, and I wonder how secure it is.
I swear Paige will never wake up to find me dead beside her. I shake my head at the thought.
I’ve accepted that death happens, but I’m determined to protect her from reality. Paige wants me to be normal and honest. To put away my gun and go straight. Paige wants me to die from boredom, not a bullet.
Would it be worth it to make her happy? It would make her happier than another necklace. She wrapped her arms around me when I handed her the car keys the other day.
Dmitri sticks his head in my office. “I’m ready to bounce when you are. One more piece of paper, and I might shoot something.”
I sigh, thinking about the look of relief in Paige’s eyes every time I return home. I’m eager to see that look today.
“Me too,” I reply, grabbing my jacket. “Let’s go.”
***
The sun is hanging low, casting a blinding streak of light across the horizon, and the traffic on the Thruway has finally come to a standstill. Miles ahead, an accident has blocked off all lanes, and traffic has been crawling for the last twenty minutes. Drivers sit idly in their cars, not knowing how long the delay will last or what exactly has happened up ahead.
A tall, middle-aged man in a baseball cap gets out of his pickup truck to look down the road. He stands on the yellow line between the stopped cars, shielding his eyes as he takes off his cap.
A woman in an idling Honda rolls down her window. “What’s going on?” she asks him.
“I can’t tell,” he replies, wiping his hand across his forehead. “I can’t see past the curve in the road. All I see are brake lights.”
She mutters a curse and switches her engine off. “I better save my gas.”
I feel their frustration, not knowing how long we’ll be stuck here. I can get a lot done with a Bratva army at my fingertips, but I have no control over man-made disasters or acts of nature. I have to sit and wait like the rest.
Slowly, reports of a collision involving an eighteen-wheeler come across the radio, but the details are few. The truck flipped over, blocking off all lanes, and the police stopped traffic on both sides. There are no reports on the other vehicles involved, how long this delay will be, or what actually happened.
“The Rovers can handle the rough terrain,” says Dmitri. “We can ride down the shoulder to the next exit.”
“How far is it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “About a mile and a half.” His brow furrows as he squints into the distance.
I shake my head. “No, we might end up stuck behind a bigger mess or a cop.”
I stare out the window at the rocky incline hemming us in. Past it, tall trees limit access to the suburban streets. The center of the road is separated by a row of concrete dividers placed there for roadwork.
My gaze searches, looking for any way that might provide an escape from this traffic jam, but I don’t want to barrel through some stranger’s pool party, no matter how badly I want to get home.
“I have no bars on my phone,” I tell Dmitri. “Must be everyone checking their phones.”
He glances over. “You could get out and wave it around in the air like the other idiots.”
I shove the phone back into my pocket and glare at the traffic instead. “Paige let Emma go off with their cousin,” I continue. “I don’t like it, but she told me a Rover would follow them.”
“She’s finally learning,” replies Dmitri.
I understand why she took Emma out. The girl hated me for a solid day, but now she and Viktor are keeping a distance. I’m glad she has accepted my decision. Definitely quicker than Paige would have.
The girl is smart, brave, and willing to take a risk. And she is willing to be like us. I also want the best for Emma, but Paige and I have different ideas on how to obtain it.
“So,” After a pause, Dmitri asks. “Wwhy don’t you like Kenney Grant?”
“He may be her family and a cop, but I’ve learned to look under the surface. He’s too proud to help others without expecting something in return. I see it in his face. Those eyes are like that of a rat—watchful and shifty, and his smile is so tight it could crack.”
“Crooked?” asks Dmitri. “Or just disillusioned?”
“Neither,” I answer. “He’s a power-hungry bastard. He just happened to choose the law while we chose the Bratva.”
“The Bratva chose us.” Dmitri keeps his eyes straight ahead. “Do you think he might convince Paige to run?”
I laugh. “Even if she wanted to leave, she wouldn’t run to him. He’s a smug bastard. He’ll remind her twenty times a day—‘I told you so.’”
Our laughter is cut short when a loud rumble fills the air. Nothing is moving in front of us, but a dark SUV roars up the shoulder from behind. The SUV races past the stopped vehicles with ease, leaving a cloud of loose gravel and dirt in its wake. Inside the vehicle are several men in dark clothes with eyes fixed on us.
I recognize the faces of Karamazov’s men inside the SUV. Where there is one SUV, there will be more. The truck accident must be a trap. If they reach us, it won’t be to ask if we need assistance.
Dmitri stiffens beside me. “We need to move.”
We reach for our guns as the windows on the approaching SUV lower. Using the lights, Dmitri signals the other Rover and then quickly steps on the gas. They follow us over the rough incline toward the trees. The Rovers dodge the narrowly spaced trees as we head for cover.
The one SUV is soon followed by three more racing up the rocky incline after us.
“Definitely Igor’s men!” shouts Dmitri as I aim my gun. “Retribution came fast.”
Viktor’s kill was in line for promotion to brigadier in the Karamazov Bratva. A man who showed promise but was too full of pride and praise to practice caution. He might have lived longer if his bedroom window had been locked.
No bullets are fired. For now.
Only the crunching sound of tires rolling over tree roots is heard as a few copycats follow us in their trucks and SUVs. These people assume we know a way out and foolishly tail us, forming a shield between our enemies and us. Igor’s men push their SUVs but lose traction as the cars struggle on the rocks. They can’t go any farther and pursue us on foot when they see we’re blocked by the trees.
We have no choice but to get out and fight.
Gunshots echo around the woods, and the foolish drivers try to back down the hill, causing more chaos. I hold off shooting for a few seconds, hoping to give them a chance to flee. But Igor’s men aren’t as merciful and open fire without remorse.
Bullets fly and slam into the trees between us. We dodge and shoot, trying to free the Rovers. Shouts and curses are traded between us as we make a deadly spectacle of ourselves. Shots ring out like firecrackers in July as foolish people leave the safety of their cars to watch the show.
“What was Igor thinking?” I swear and take a shot. “We have plenty of witnesses now.”
“If they live. We might be able to get through,” says Dmitri, “But we’ll have to ram a fence.”
I look at the tall wooden fence obscuring the view of a manicured lawn from the Thruway.
“Do it,” I tell him.
Igor’s men are in hot pursuit, firing shots in our direction as we try to make an escape. Amidst the chaos, Seryozha slumps over behind the wheel of the Rover with a grimace of pain on his face. A trickle of blood trails down his temple, staining his white collar. His face is still, and his eyes are vacant from the impact of the bullet.
We toss his limp body into the back. Accounting for losses will have to wait.
Gunfire follows as we ram the fence. The fence groans, then splinters in an eruption of wood, and we speed away down a narrow driveway. Soon, the chaos we left behind is muffled by the ambient sounds of suburbia. The anger of losing another man makes my heart pound against my chest as I yank off my tie. I blame myself for being fooled.
“How the hell did Igor figure out we were there?” I ask.
Dmitri grips the wheel tight. “We had no cell service. Our routine is rarely the same. Our men would never tell. Maybe luck?”
I shake my head. “He’s been very lucky lately.”
Thankfully, we’re heading home. No one in the picturesque homes that we pass knows what we’ve just been through. On a perfect lawn, kids run through a sprinkler, screaming with happiness, not fear. I can appreciate why Paige thinks this life is safer and better. But anything can happen anywhere, and it’s best to be prepared for it.
I’m startled by the list of missed calls from Paige on my phone. “How far are we from the house?” I ask.
“Less than ten minutes,” replies Dmitri. “What’s going on?”
I scan through the texts. “She doesn’t say.” I decide to wait. A cell phone can be a deadly thing when you’re trying to hide. My fist clenches hard as one vivid and deadly scenario after another plays through my head.
Igor has only shown an interest in me, not my family. I hold onto that thought. He’s smart enough to leave them alone, or it means I will show him no mercy.
We enter the gate, and nothing seems amiss. There are no vehicles in the drive and no people hurrying about. The house looks as still as the ones we passed by on the suburban street. My mother’s window blinds are open.
That’s odd. They’re usually closed, but we never discussed using them as a signal.
I jump out of the Rover before it comes to a full stop, and the door swings open before I touch it. Paige flings herself into my arms. I hold her tight, feeling her body tremble. My hand strokes her hair as Paige’s warm tears wet my shirt. I’ll kill the person who made her cry.
“Paige?” I whisper.
“I tried to call you,” she sniffs. “Andrei, where have you been?” Her next words are choked off by a sob.
Natasha steps into the doorway, and her wide eyes send a spike of panic through me. Natasha never shows fear, but she’s frightened now.
I lean in close. “Paige, I didn’t hear you. Say it again. What happened?”
She takes a deep breath and speaks clearly. “Kenney took Emma.”
