I smile. Not knowing a lot at this point in time means you don’t know shit. Or that you’re not being allowed to report it.
“I’ll call in. I’ll say I got freaked out and escaped when Kiro did,” I tell him. People do that during shootings—just run for the hills. “In the meantime, I need to get us somewhere. I need medical supplies. Kiro needs medical attention. I’ve got ID, but…”
“Don’t use it.” He tells me there’s a Holiday Superstore ten miles up where I can get basic medical supplies. He gives me directions to a small motel well beyond that—he’ll get a room under his own name. “Don’t bother giving your ID or license plate. They’ll take mine.”
Of course they will. Leave it to a muckraking rag to know these things are even options for purchase.
“Stay safe. I’m having cash and ID couriered up there. They’ll knock and tell you it’s a package fromStormline.”
“Got it.”
“How long is his hair?” Murray asks.
“What?”
“How long?”
“It’s long. I’m going to need to clean him up.”
“Don’t cut it.”
“What?”
“Look, I’ve got a courier heading out there with ten thousand dollars. You know why? Because I’m buying a story on Savage Adonis. When I buy a story on Savage Adonis, I want Savage Adonis, not a frat boy.”
I run my fingers through his hair. “All he wants to do is to go north. I think he wants to go home.”
“And you’re going with him. You’ll help him. You’ll take photos along the way.”
“The Albanian mafia…” I whisper, half to him, half to myself.
“Your boy dealt them a serious setback. Just stay off the grid and you’ll be fine.”
Riiiight, I say under my breath.
He continues. “Savage Adonis wants to head into the woods? Good. That’s the safest place you can be. If anybody can get lost in the woods, it’s him. Tell me you have a charger for that phone of yours.”
“I’ll grab a charger pack.”
“Good girl. Stay with him. Don’t stop taking pictures.”
Chapter Fifteen
Aleksio
Istroll intoAgronika with my brother Viktor and Tito and Yuri and a few of our guys. We move through the front dining room, all dark wood paneling and candlelight illuminating the heavy red curtains and tapestries all over the walls.
There’s a hush all across the place.
Yeah, we’re the Dragusha brothers walking through Agronika, famous for roasted lamb, stuffed peppers, and being the stronghold of our greatest enemy, Bloody Lazarus Morina.
People bolt up from feast-laden tables and walk out—quickly and quietly. Some even as they’re still chewing.
I catch Viktor’s eye. He’s determined. Ready to get bloody. His black suit has a bit of a shine to it, as though even his suit is ready to get bloody.
The images on the tapestries that cover the walls are nothing but a lot of strange animals and soldiers on horseback, unless you give a shit about Albanian history. Then you know it’s the traditional tales. Love and war, tragedy and redemption. Fantastically powerful families like mythical beasts woven all through. The lions are the Dragushas more often than not.
The Dragushas are an old family.