Page 16 of Beastly Armory

Markus’s eyes sparkle behind the thick frames of his glasses. I remember Papa telling me he had a drinking problem back in the day. “None for me, thanks.” Licking his bottom lip, he looks like he wants to say anything, except no.

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Derichschecks his gun and magazine before sliding it back in its hip holster.

Pouring two neat scotches, I hand him the crystal double. With a look of victory, I raise my glass to toast. “Should we drink to the old saying?The den of the beast lies in the east?”

Derichs nods, but with a small grin, his dimples fold into his cheeks when he says, “How about, good men die young… so, let’s go be badass motherfuckers!”

With a chuckle, I clink my glass to his. “I’ll drink to that.”

Five

MAXIMILLIAN

It’s 8 p.m. My hand perched behind the passenger seat, I wait in my Barracuda, narrowing my eyes through the darkness at the metal building blocking the view of the river. Derichs studies the area with me, dragging his palms down the front of his jeans. A light shines inside the warehouse, streams of yellow filtering through small gaps in the walls and doorway, interrupted at times by shadows waltzing through.

“Okay. Let’s go,” I say, breaking the tense silence. Derichs meets my gaze and nods. He’s ready.

As we approach the side door we planned to enter, it slides open with some effort. The man holding it open is wearing a black suit and a smug expression, like he’s got the upper hand. Marching in front, I keep my focus straight ahead. I approach the man in the middle of the room, standing with another just behind his left shoulder. My eyes dare a quick peek out the barred skinnywindows above us, but I don’t see Aries in his position. Hopefully, he’s there.

Drumming in my neck, my pulse races as I stand in front of Antonov. His small eyes are just a hair too close together, which gives him an even more menacing look than the way he’s holding his muscular body. He’s younger than Markus alluded to, probably in his mid-thirties. Stroking his shaved chin in contemplation, his large red bull tattoo flexes across his hand as he eyes me suspiciously.

“S’not Antonov,” Derichs whispers near my ear. My brow furrows as the deep and forceful rhythm of my heart flares from a bass drum to a rapid snare beat. If it’s not Antonov, then who is it?

“Maximillian. Leon. Freidenberg. Son of Gerald Leon, who was a complete cuck. Did you know he liked to watch your mother take some big dicks? Well, before she was flame grilled, that is.” A heady Eastern European accent comes through the end of each word. I will the sweat to stop pouring from my forehead and steady my breathing. This is bait, and I’m not taking it. “I’d still have fucked her holes after, honestly. She was a beautiful woman.”

“And whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? I’m told you’re not Sergei Antonov.”

The man’s shoulders relax. Which means something has put him at ease. It was either me not succumbing to his taunt, or he feels confident in his safety. I sneak glances around the perimeter, monitoring the positions of his men. Derichs was right. They are exactly where hesaid they would be. His head is on a constant swivel just behind me.

“Morozov.”

“Morozov. I was told I would be meeting with someone who could get me the business licenses. Someone worth a shit.”

He snorts. “Antonov didn’t think it was worth his time to meet with you.” Holding out a palm, he adds, “I just came to collect the hundred it will cost you.”

My mouth opens slightly, but I try to school my face as much as I can. “Hundred? Hundred k?”

He laughs and pulls his hand back. Turning, he walks a few steps away from me. Everything in me screams that I’m suddenly in danger. “Oh. You don’t have the money? Hmm. That could be a problem.” With a swift spin on his heel, he turns back to me. “For you.”

“I can offer ten percent of the profits. Just like my grandfather and his father did. And I believe the father before that one.” The skin on my right hand itches to reach for my Glock in its holster. An energy travels from Derichs’s body, and I sense he’s getting the same vibe. My jaw tightens.

Opening his long arms to his sides, he asks, “How about a trade? You tell me where the rest of the armories are, and I allow you to run your business.” As he drops his arms, my eyes rest on their movement. He could reach quickly for his gun at any time. The man behind his shoulder already has a hand on his belt as I spy Derichs slowly moves his to his holster out of the corner of my eye.

“I don’t know where the armories are.”

Morozov’s head dips back for a moment before he stares me down. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t feign ignorance. It’s so overplayed.”

My muscles twitch, ready to escape. “How would I know? I’ve been gone from Gnarled Pine my entire life. My family never told me. I just want to run my car wash and body shop. That’s it.”

The air in the room condenses.

Morozov’s eyebrows raise, and he smiles broadly, flashing a wide gap between his front teeth. “Oh, well, if you don’t know… what good are you?”

His hand reaches for his gun at the same time as mine. The man behind his shoulder gets a sharp hole through his forehead as he slumps forward to his knees, then flat on his face. A red beam of light swivels through the upper window, Aries scanning to take more out. Morozov aims behind my shoulder and fires while both me and my man shift to our right, making our way to escape route one behind a set of thick concrete pillars.

Derichs groans loudly, but his legs keep running with mine. He’s been hit, I know it, but we need to move. A thunderstorm of bullets rains down on us from the second story platforms, each pelt causing a cacophony of discordant sounds. The metal walls of the building ring echoes of each whirr as they pass my head. I’m focused on getting to cover by shooting my way around the room despite the chaos and confusion.

Just before I dive behind the wall of the pillar, I lift my gun toward Morozov. He’s at a forty-five-degreeangle, so my bullet only clips his shoulder. As his body jolts from the first shot, I put another in his chest, and down he goes.

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