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“Nah, if Timur was going to do this, he wouldn’t be sneaky,” Oleg argues, frowning. “He’d have gone in, guns blazing, and took out our men. And they’d have bombed the plane and the hangar, not stolen it. They have their own shit. They don’t need ours.”

“Then who the fuck did it?”

“Where’s Simeon?” I ask. “Would that fucker be stupid enough to do this to prove some kind of point?”

“Nah, our guys said he hasn’t moved from his place in over a day. He’s got a bunch of whores there, and he’s living it up with them and his men. He even missed a meeting with his father if the texts our guys intercepted are anything to go by. And Timur was pissed.” Oleg’s smirk speaks volumes.

“Fucker’s going to die at his father’s hand if he’s not careful,” Zakhar says. “Alright, so it’s not him. Then who the fuck else could have done this shit?”

My mind whirls and goes to a certain blonde who dared to set my fucking bed on fire only a few hours ago.

Fury starts to burn, but I clamp it down. No, it’s ridiculous. A woman like that, she’s not going to steal a fucking plane.

“What about the cartel?” I demand. “One of their men was killed, and we found that bomb. They’re not going to be happy.”

“Nothing on the channels, but we don’t know how many men they’ve had around.” Oleg pulls out his phone. “I’ll have our men get on it. It makes the most sense. It could be a way to hit at you. Use your plane for something that will have the Feds on your ass.”

“But we have a great deal with them. Why would they jeopardize this? And that bomb? That seems over the top. I figured they would try to slip something extra in one of the crates, test to make sure our claims of being able to get through the border into Canada undetected were true.” Zakhar shakes his head. “I don’t like this. How do we know that whoever that slimeball was actually represents the cartel?”

I look at Oleg. “Have you reached Miguel?”

“Nothing. He’s either ignoring us, or he’s out of service. The calls drop whenever we call.”

“Or he has us blocked,” Zakhar mutters.

I grab my phone from my desk, pull out the SIM, and grab another one from the drawer in my desk. One Miguel definitely won’t have blocked.

The phone rings, and Miguel’s smooth greeting comes through the line. “Miguel, you’ve been avoiding me.” I keep my tone cool, even.

A small pause. “Ilya. How are you, my friend? I have been busy and⁠—”

“Cut the crap, Miguel,” I snap. “You’ve been avoiding me because you’re trying to figure out how to do damage control. We found your little test. Was that the plan? You wanted to kill me?” I don’t disguise my icy fury, my words biting and cold.

“No, no, of course not!” Miguel barks, his own irritation leaking through. “Look, Ilya, this deal, it is too lucrative for us both to have someone fucking with us. I heard about the bomb, and I’m trying to find out who put it in there. No one is owning up to it. Yet.”

“And what about the slimeball you sent with the shipment?”

A brief pause. “Hosea is not a slimeball,” he snaps. “He would never have let this happen.”

“That’s not the name of the man who was there, Miguel.” I look at Oleg for confirmation. He nods and turns his phone toward me. “My men have identified him as Nicolas Herrera.”

Miguel’s cursing is a harsh mixture of Spanish and English, but I can keep up enough to realize the man is someone who should not have been there.

“Is that motherfucker dead?” Miguel spits.

“Yes. Killed before he could set off the bomb. Who was he, Miguel? And don’t you fucking dare bullshit me.”

“He’s been trying to undermine me for the last six months. Went into hiding. If he knew about our agreement and that shipment, he’s getting the intel from someone I trust. Fuck! And that means Hosea is missing.”

“It sounds like you have shit to sort out, Miguel. And until you do, do not send anything else to be shipped. Our deal is on hold.”

“Damn it, Ilya. I have people expecting those shipments.”

“Do I sound like I care, Miguel? You’re lucky I don’t pull out of the entire thing and send my men to teach you a lesson. I don’t give a fuck who he was. He was your man. He tried to kill me, and that’s more than enough for me to declare war. Do you want that, Miguel? Because we both know who will win.” It’s a promise, and he knows it.

He’s outmanned, outsmarted, and outgunned.

He’s silent, but I can feel his fury rolling through the phone. People will die tonight for this fuckup. “Two days, Ilya. Give me two days, and then we can move past this.”