“Be that as it may. I’m thanking you, Stevens. If anything unplanned happens to me, promise me you’ll take care of Angel and Inessa. Get them as far away from the mob as you can. Please.”
“You can’t think like this, Max. You’ve got to be one hundred percent focused today. I’ll keep you safe. No more talk like this. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“I’ll see you at the usual spot in an hour.”
I drank a cup of coffee before I left the house–I was way too stressed out to eat. Maintaining my cool with Grigoriy was paramount to my survival. If I lost my shit or my breakfast, I’d be a dead man for sure, so an empty stomach was best.
The coffee shop with the dodge bathroom door was quiet when I arrived. I waited in the men’s room for Stevens to unlock the portal to my salvation.
“Hi, Max. Come in.”
The office was teaming with men and women in DEA gear. Stevens led me to a chair where I sat down. A woman I hadn’t seen before asked me to unbutton my shirt. She had a small device in her hand which she taped to my chest. The mere thought that someone would find this gadget on me constricted my sphincter tighter than a drum.
“Is this a good idea?” I asked Stevens.
“It’s a precaution. If Grigoriy gets any ideas, we need to know about them. Don’t worry. He’s not likely to frisk you anyway. And even if he does, he won’t find it.”
“You’d better be right about this. I’d like to keep my tongue inside my mouth if it’s all the same to you.”
“We’ve got this. It’s not our first bust, Max.”
“It’s my first. Just saying.”
“Okay, people,” Stevens said out loud. “It’s go-time. Are we ready, Shaw?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Here we go, Max. It’s showtime.”
“Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
I left Stevens and his team and drove to the hotel suite where Grigoriy and his partners were meeting me. My heart was racing, and I felt a bit like a lamb led to the slaughter. But there was no turning back. The fat lady was warming up her voice box.
I parked and took the elevator up to Grigoriy’s temporary pad.
Deep breaths, Max. Lose the nerves.
Pep talk done, I knocked on the door and waited. One of my host’s muscle heads opened the door. There was scarcely an inch of his skin that wasn’t tattooed. He growled a greeting in Russian, looked me over, then stepped aside so I could enter.
I followed another bodyguard into the living room where Grigoriy and his partners were relaxing on sofas.
“Good morning, Maxim,” he greeted me. “You know the boys,” he said and waved a hand about the room.
“Hello, Grigoriy. You look well.” I nodded my head in recognition to the other men in the room.
“Come. Sit. Can I offer you a coffee, Maxim?”
Grigoriy was in a good mood. It was rare, so I went with it.
“Thank you.”
He gave someone a look and before long I was holding a cup of coffee.
“This is a nice place, hey?”
“Good choice. I hear the chef has a few Michelin stars.”