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“Understandable,” he replied easily. “It is the same for us.”
“So, what do you have for us, Sartori?”
Instead of answering, Morocco Carrisi’s voice came over the speaker. “Artem and Hannah Rostova were clean,” he said. “All the evidence points to average people, living average lives, dying averagely.”
“That sounds boring,” Melor muttered.
“However, their associates weren’t so clean, though nothing alarming,” Morocco went on. “What I was able to find out was that Louie Manziel had a best friend, Edik Ovchinnikov, and he also lived in Esso Village.” I looked over at Maksim, and I’d never seen such concentration on his face before. “Now, as I was looking into Edik, I decided to look into his mother as well. She was a single mother, and you’d be surprised what single mothers are willing to do if it means feeding their children.”
“Did you find anything significant?” I asked.
There was a heartbeat of silence before Morocco said, “I was able to find that she was often visited by a male friend, Dimitri Barychev.” Every man at the table froze, but before any of us could ask any questions, Morocco kept going. “Now, since I don’t have to tell you who Dimitri Barychev is, what I can tell you is that Arina Ovchinnikov ended up having a second son a year after the visits, and she named him Nikel Ovchinnikov Barychev.”
“Holy shit,” Melor muttered. “They have a half-brother?”
“Looks that way,” Morocco replied. “However, that’s not the only interesting thing that I was able to find out, though it certainly is a surprise.”
“What else were you able to find?” Melor asked, Maksim silent as a tomb.
“Being much older than his younger brother, Edik took care of Nikel often because their mother worked so much. So, when Nikel was only twenty, there was some kind of accident, and Edik was found dead in a creek along the woodlands near their homes. According to the police reports and newspaper clippings, only Edik, Nikel, and Louie had been there, the entire thing deemed a tragic accident.”
“Was it?” I asked.
“Not sure,” Morocco answered. “With Nikel and Louie singing the same story, the police hadn’t looked too far into it. They chalked it up to boys being boys.”
“Were you able to find any pictures on Nikel?” Maksim asked, finally speaking.
“Yes,” he answered, and I could feel my chest expand with a breath that I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding. “He looks like his brothers.”
“He is not my brother,” Maksim bit out.
“Hate to break it to you, but denial is no match for DNA, Maksim,” Morocco replied flippantly. “Nikel Ovchinnikov Barychev is your half-brother, and the man resembles you and Akim enough to cement that fact. Now, if that’s not enough to convince you, his medical records will also be included in the folder that Aurelio will be dropping off for you and The O’Brien.”
“It seems as if we’ve found Klive Simpson’s personal connection to Port Townsend, gentlemen,” Nero remarked, his voice coming over the speaker once again.
“So, is he here to try and join the bratva?” Melor mused.
“Doubtful,” Nero replied. “Our guess is that he’s here for some kind of self-perceived revenge or something. Had he been here to meet you guys or join the bratva, then he would have announced himself when he first appeared in Port Townsend.”
“Plus, why assemble a group of troublemakers if he wanted to join you?” Morocco added. “Though he could have just been trying to prove himself, that would only make sense if he hadn’t also targeted you guys. Yeah, no. He’s not here for a family reunion.”
“Which brings us to another concern,” Nero chimed in.
“Which is?”
“Whether Maksim and Akim want to claim him or not, he is still the brother of two high-ranking bratva,” Nero stated evenly. “What would you like us to do with him should he end up on our side of the fence again. While I have no problem doing what needs to be done, I’d like to know if he will be worth an all-out war or not.”
On principle, if the Sartoris or O’Briens killed the brother of the bratva, war would not be in question. Despite our unspoken truce, it was fanciful to believe that it was going to last forever. At the heart of it all, we were all enemies, and that was not a fact forgotten, no matter how much money we were making off each other with our current ceasefire.
Nevertheless, this was a situation that I would normally discuss with Maksim, even if he weren’t personally involved in this. Maksim was my sovietnik, and as my counselor, his opinion and input were very valuable. Still, I knew Maksim well enough to know what his answer was without having to even speak with him about it.
“Treat him as you would any other bratva member that oversteps,” Maksim finally answered. “While it might still lead to war, it would not be a personal one.”
After a heartbeat of silence, Nero asked, “You have no desire for us to hand him over alive?”
Before Maksim could answer, Melor said, “Ideally, if you could hand him over alive, then that would be optional for us. However, if not, no one’s feelings would be hurt over it.”
“Very well,” Nero replied. “I’ll let The O’Brien know how to proceed.”
