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Miles nodded and headed back to the car. The low hum of the engine sounded and faded away. I hoped he wouldn’t go far.
I didn’t know why, but I had a bad feeling brewing in the pit of my belly, and I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
Miles drove away, and Murtagh led Caspian and me away from the road and towards a thick grouping of trees that bordered the property. The wrought iron fencing was rusted and ill-cared for, and Murtagh easily broke off several pieces so that we could all fit through.
Caspian, Murtagh, and I crouched down and moved silently and quickly through the tree cover, staying out of sight of the guards who were patrolling the perimeter.
“Where to now, Zazie?” Murtagh asked, and I looked around. The strange pull felt like it was coming straight from the building, and I grimaced, knowing that we were going to have to find our way inside somehow.
“We have to get inside. But there’s a way in, I can feel it,” I replied.
The three of us crept along the perimeter of the property, using the thick bushes as cover. The further away from the road we went, the more guards we saw. In fact, the place was crawling with them.
And they weren’t friendly guards, either. They looked like rugged gangsters.
“What is this place?” I whispered, looking up at Caspian. I knew for a fact that he knew gangsters a lot better than I did.
“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling we’re going to find out,” Caspian replied, his voice low.
The two of them followed me, and eventually, we came to the rear of the building where there was a door slightly ajar.
We crept closer, making sure to stay hidden.
Murtagh motioned for us to wait, and we watched as he approached the door, pressing his ear against it. When he was satisfied that there was no one on the other side, he pushed it open painstakingly slowly.
The door creaked slightly, and I held my breath, but no one came. After a moment of silence, Murtagh crept forward and gestured for the two of us to follow. We entered into what appeared to be a back hallway, where it seemed the janitorial staff came and went.
The floors were made of worn wooden planks, and the walls were an aged grey. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from a row of narrow windows along the upper part of the wall.
There were several open doors off to the side, and I slipped inside one, looking around. The room was some sort of supply closet, but it didn’t smell like cleaning supplies or dusty blankets. The smell in the room was mostly a strange metallic sort of smell. I frowned, opened one of the boxes, and found it to be full of semi-automatic machine guns.
My eyes widened and I heard footsteps approaching and quickly grabbed a couple of guns and tossed one to Murtagh and another to Caspian, before the door opened.
There were three men in the hall, dressed in black combat uniforms.
“Fuck,” Murtagh rasped.
“Who the fuck are you?” One of the men asked, and Caspian literally growled. The rumbling sound reverberated throughout the room, and I shivered, feeling it deep down into the marrow of my bones. I turned my head to the side, seeing his nails lengthen into claws right before my eyes. Was he going to transform into a dragon here? In the middle of a supply closet?
The man who had spoken drew his weapon, aiming it at Murtagh’s chest. “Opoznaytes, inache my budem strelyat!” he demanded, and I had the feeling he was assuring us that he’d shoot us if we didn’t do something specific. I put my hands up in surrender just-in-case, unused to having guns pointed at me, or anyone in my party, and not liking the sensation.
Caspian slowly moved in front of me, but Murtagh was already gritting back, “You know, if you don’t want people breaking in, you should probably lock the door.”
The guard’s brows lifted in surprise, he took a second, then seemed to decide to respond to him in English, and barked, “Do you even know whose house you three broke into?”
Caspian straightened, his tone not seeming intimidated as he drawled, “Off-hand… no.” The guard bristled, shifting the weight of the automatic weapon in his arms. “But let me guess, someone important?”
“The boss is going to want to have a word with you,” the guard snarled and took a step closer, his eyes narrowing in open challenge.
“The boss, huh?” Murtagh said, and the three guards exchanged annoyed glances. “Which boss, then?”
“Gregor Drekov,” the main guard answered.
Caspian’s posture suddenly stood tall and he seemed to straighten out his coat. “Well, fuck me sideways,” Caspian muttered.
“Should I know him?” Murtagh asked, turning his head towards Caspian slightly.
Caspian snorted derisively. “You? No. Why would you know him? You’re a shitty little shop owner,” he waved his fingers dismissively at Murtagh. “I know him,” Caspian said, his tone back to his natural aloofness. “He might be one of the most powerful bratva bosses in Russia.”
