“You have your father’s temper,” I say.
“Some thoughts can be inside thoughts. You don’t have to share every observation with the world.” Hunter huffs.
I shrug.
We finish our half glasses of Vodka and my phone buzzes in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see an unfamiliar number. I open the message and see Valerie’s name.
VALERIE: I’m interested in the offer. Don’t have much time though. Bribe me with dinner or it’s all over email.
“She confirmed Chase’s statement,” I say.
Hunter shakes his head, but gives up, storming away. Chase shrugs. “Have a good night. A free night. No … shenanigans.”
I head to my room, shut the door, and get through a shower in the ensuite bathroom. In bed, I respond to Valerie.
LIEF: Email is preferred.
VALERIE: You on top of me is actually preferred.
She’s brazen, doesn’t hide what she wants. But, as Hunter stated, it is better that she not be involved. Which means keeping our distance from her, especially on our own turf.
The week passes and I find myself standing near the college, leaned up against a building, looking at my phone to blend in. Smoking used to be the best option, from what I’ve heard.
I glance at the picture of my target, then glance around. Wanted for questioning. A simple snag and bag mission.
When the man walks around the corner, the scar on his face, a perfect match to the photo, same dark eyes, same hat even, I tap his shoulder.
“Do you know how to get to American University?”
“Sure, it’s just down that road. You’re close.” He points.
When his eyes leave me, I twist him around, hit the necessary button on my phone, then inject the sedative I hid up my sleeve. He stumbles slightly, and I support his weight. “You should lay off the alcohol, friend.”
The car pulls up and I thank another pedestrian for helping me to get him into the vehicle. We draw a bag over his face once in the safety of the tinted car and Sven nods to me. “Never an issue with you, Lief.”
“My job is simple,” I say.
We bring the man to the mansion and down to the basement. Soundproofed, sectioned off for an interrogation room, some holding facilities, and a room I prefer not to think about. I drop the man into the interrogation room, use a zip tie on his arms, so he is stuck to the chair. Bolted into the floor, as I suggested.
Leaving him in the locked room, I get Mr. Volkov. He arches an eyebrow at me as I pull him from his meeting in the smoking lounge he likes to use to entertain guests. There are three unfamiliar male faces.
“Mr. Erikson, how can I help you?”
“Your package has been delivered. Is anything else required of me tonight?”
“I’d like you to sit in with me. Have Hunter join my guests, they’re from the motherland and shouldn’t be left alone for long.”
I text Hunter as I follow. Mr. Volkov down to the basement. I stand behind the man as instructed as Mr. Volkov sits. Pulling the canvas bag off his head, he sputters and groans.
“Now, Mr. Smith.” Mr. Volkov folds his hands. “My sources tell me that you have some … overlapping friends.”
“Wha?” He’s still under the effects of the sedative.
“Don’t play coy, it’s unbecoming.” Then he nods to me.
I wrap my hand around his neck, specifically the untattooed hand, then squeeze, pushing up on his jaw as he struggles against me. When Mr. Volkov nods again, I release the man.
“I don’t have time for men who are unwilling to cooperate. Time is valuable … wouldn’t you agree?”