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I step back, my heart hammering in my chest so hard that it hurts. “You want me to get ready now?”
He stands up, grabbing the little piece of cotton from the desk. “Yes, and don’t delay. This is time sensitive. The sooner we find the lab, the sooner we can finish Dimitri’s research.”
Once I change my clothes and come back downstairs, Dimitri hands me a belt with a holster on it. “Put this on,” he says, wrapping it around my hips.
“You want me to carry a gun?” I ask, my heart leaping into my throat.
“It’s required if you’re on business. Really, everyone in the Bratva carries a hundred percent of the time, but you don’t have to carry if you’re at the house. It’s just when we go out.”
The weight of the belt and subsequent gun on my hip are unusual but not uncomfortable. The heaviness reminds me that I’m carrying a significant burden with me now: The reality of being a member of a powerful criminal organization. One wrong choice could land me in prison or six feet under.
I try not to think about that consequence too much, though. It distracts me from being in the moment and enjoying the life that I’ve fallen into. I’m more positive now about everything than I was when Dimitri died. Maybe this is the universe’s way of apologizing.
Or maybe it’s just another curse. Only time will tell.
Ivan is already at the door with his shoes on by the time I’ve adjusted my holster to where it doesn’t flap around. The thigh strap is useful, but the elastic was a little loose at first. I think it used to belong to Ivan, because his thighs are so large from all the muscle he has.
“Ready?” he asks, smoothing his curls back and flashing me a winning grin.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply, slipping into a pair of plain white sneakers.
He pulls open the door. “Let’s take the convertible. The weather is just begging for it today.”
20
Ivan
I almost do another loop around the cotton farm just to hear Lily’s carefree laughter again, but we can’t draw attention to ourselves. The car is already flashy enough, and even with the darkness of night setting in, there’s still a chance we could be seen by the wrong people.
I’ve had Donovan trying to get a location on the Red Hitters since they shot up Dimitri’s funeral, but it’s not as easy as walking into the police station and demanding to know who all is involved.
The best way to get them is to find out where one of them lives, a difficult task in and of itself. Once we know one of their locations, we can track them until they arrive at a mutual meeting place.
As long as it’s a regular location with a consistent time and date for meetings, and there aren’t any other unrelated people meeting in the same location, it would be possible to rig the place with explosives and blow the bastards sky high.
I’m done dancing around the law and pretending I’m not a bad guy. I want them to know me, fear me, and never send anyone at me again for fear that they will be annihilated. I am the bad guy, and they’ll either respect that or be on the first train to hell the next morning.
It’ll be easier to get that sort of respect with Project G in full swing. If we can convert that precious chemical compound that Dimitri was working on into cold, hard cash, we won’t need to fear the Red Hitters any longer. Revenue will go from millions to trillions, and we can pay off every politician south of Canada to continue operations without ever being bothered again.
Police would mean nothing at that point, but that’s all hinging on finding the research Dimitri was so close to finishing. Without it, we have nothing.
I pull a large flashlight from the convertible after we park it behind an old barn half a mile down the road. Handing it to Lily, I grab a few more supplies, lock picks and a bomb detector to make sure we don’t get blown to pieces the moment we open the door to Dimitri’s shack.
“You’re going to want to stay close,” I say to Lily as we cross the road and head toward the cotton field. “I doubt there are any people out this late, but there could be wild animals. Snakes are just as dangerous as people.”
“Sometimes snakes are people,” she replies, tapping the side of her head with her finger.
I chuckle. “In this case, they’re reptiles and they tend to bite people who step on them by accident. Copperheads are common around here.”
“Yeah, I know. One got into Dimitri’s house one time and had a bunch of babies under his couch. I’ve never heard a grown man scream so high-pitched before.”
A smile. “He’s always been scared of snakes. That must’ve been terrifying for him.”
“Yes, but he dealt with them quickly. He always took care of business, no matter what. He taught me that fear wasn’t something to be controlled by. You must act regardless of fear,” she says.
“You’ve learned a lot from him and I’m thankful for that. Without his teachings, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle being a part of the Bratva,” I say as we venture down the road. We’re closer to the cotton field now. I catch hints of it in the distance as Lily’s flashlight sways with her stride.
“I’m not really sure if I can handle it, to be honest,” she says, looking up at me.
