The skin on the back of my neck prickles with awareness. Though there are numerous Russian Bratva groups, we deal with the two most prominent often. One is run by Demyan, a good man Nicolai and Rafael know well, as they’ve all worked together at one time or another. I’ve met him a few times when he’s visited America and found him not only to be hard-working, but a man of integrity. Since they are our sister group, we deal with them frequently and trust them.
But the second group, the Thieves, is rival to the Moscow contingent, and responsible for great devastation. Along with other members of American Bratva, the Thieves are responsible for the largest human trafficking ring in America, and some of our members, as well as some of our members’ wives, have had dealings with them. They’re known for being underhanded, vicious, and cruel, and my dislike for the group is far more personal.
The Thieves are responsible for the death of my Amaliya.
I watch Rafael visibly bristle as well. It is because of the Thieves that Rafael and his wife Laina, once known as Olena in another place and time, relocated to our group in America. Amaliya was Olena’s mother.
“The Thieves?” I ask Tomas.
“Fucking Thieves,” Rafael mutters, clenching his fists.
“The very same,” Tomas says to me, before returning to address the group again. “As you know, when Nicolai joined the Boston group with dual enrollment, I made a promise our group would no longer have any dealings with the trafficking rings. I’ve adhered to that promise. But many of you also know that the Thieves have not. Trafficking still comprises the majority of their business. The biggest concern is that this one insidious traitor is only representative of a larger group,” Tomas says. “Before his demise, he promised this group would see an uprising. That we didn’t know how deeply the forces against us ran.”
A low murmur ripples through the group. The respectable members of the Bratva know that we aren’t brother against brother but united in an unbreakable bond, tied to one another by a code of conduct.
“How does this affect us?” one of my men asks. It’s a good question. The men all look to Tomas, but it is Nicolai who speaks next.
“Last night, during the interrogation, it came to light that the Thieves intend on taking over as American Bratva. They want to eliminate our group. This much we can surmise from what our interrogation revealed.”
“Taking over?” Simon asks. “Eliminating? How?”
Nicolai shakes his head. “We aren’t sure, since those who run the group and ultimately make the decisions clearly keep their agenda hidden, but it’s obvious to us that at the very least, they intend on increasing the volume of trafficking they do, and once their trade gains power, of potentially wiping out every rival Bratva group in America.”
We sit in silence for a minute. This type of insidious uprising among fellow Bratva is unheard of, but given the downward spiral of some of the leadership in recent years, it doesn’t surprise me. Myron’s betrayal of his daughter was, sadly, only one of many such despicable actions.
Tomas speaks next. “My sources tell me the Thieves plan on relying heavily on Afghani refugees and immigrants. The women are beautiful, and with few connections, difficult to trace.”
I imagine Taara, my beautiful prisoner, sold to one of the men at auction, and my fists clench by my sides.
“So, what will we do?” someone asks. “We have to stand against them, even if it means we go to war.”
But my mind is already turning over the possibilities. I stroke my chin. As pakhan, I am called to make sacrifices. I have, over and over again, but this time… as they continue to talk, my plan grows, until I finally speak up to get their attention.
“I have an idea,” I say, aware of how Nicolai’s eyes follow me. “You say the plan comes from upper leadership, Tomas?”
Tomas nods. “My sources say that those lower in rank know of no plans, and my investigations confirm this. Most of the Bratva men prefer we remain either neutral or allies.”
“Then if we found a way to out those who are plotting to overtake us, we stop the root of the problem before it gains traction, yes?”
Tomas nods. Nicolai’s eyes narrow on me. He’s already suspecting something risky, and he isn’t wrong.
“Yes,” Tomas says.
The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced this is the correct choice of action. If my plan goes off without a hitch, Taara will have a chance to prove her loyalty to me, and ultimately redeem herself, and I will be able to put an end to the dangers that threaten my brothers.
“Tomas. Nicolai. You will have lunch with me, and we will discuss what I have in mind. Afterward, we will reconvene to discuss.” I nod to Tomas. “Bring Taara and Caroline to me.”