Page 12 of No Reason to Trust

“Good,” Jake said. “I’ll have the paperwork from the Ganson case ready by the end of the day. I’ll leave it on your desk for your signature.”

“Great,” Nelson said, shifting in Jake’s guest chair. He took a deep breath and said, “I have the details for your undercover job,” he said. His gaze slid away from Jake.

“Yeah? What’ll I be doing?”

“You’re gonna meet with a group of Bratva members in Brooklyn,” he said, his gaze darting to Jake’s before quickly looking away. “They’re looking for an enforcer, and I thought you’d be a good candidate to send them. You’re big. Intimidating. And I’ve seen how menacing you can be while you’re working. I think you’ll fit all their requirements.”

“What exactly are they expecting me to do?” Jake asked. He resisted the urge to wipe his damp palms on his thighs. This sounded like a dangerous, likely lethal assignment.

“Collect protection money from store owners. Approach new store owners to coerce them into paying for protection. Rough up any store owners who resist.”

Jake frowned. “We’re the FBI. We don’t actuallyrough uppeople who won’t work with us.”

“You just need to make it look like they were roughed up. Give them a black eye. Something everyone will see so they know you’re serious.”

“You expect me to actuallyhurtpeople?” Jake asked, disbelief in his voice.

Nelson shrugged. “You wanna make an omelet? You gotta break a few eggs.”

Jake held his boss’s gaze, horrified by what Nelson wanted him to do. Unless the plan was for Jake to die before he could do any enforcing. Or reporting to Nelson’s boss what Nelson expected him to do. The possibility of an early grave was looking more and more likely.

Clearing his throat, Jake said, “When and where is this meeting supposed to take place?”

“I’ll contact my source and get that for you in a few days.”

“Okay. And when are they expecting me to show up?”

“Our source gave them a range of dates, one to two weeks from now.” Nelson smiled. “You’re finishing up a job for your previous employer.”

“Who would be…?” Jake frowned at Nelson. This sounded like the perfect formula for getting whacked by suspicious Russians.

“A rival group in a different part of Brooklyn. Not Brighton Beach. An area the Bratva is trying to expand into.”

“So not only am I roughing up store owners, but I’ll be suspected because I’m not local.”

Nelson shrugged. “Yeah, that’s a downside. The upside? You won’t have any history with these guys. So you can basically be whoever you want to be.”

“And what does the FBI expect to gain from this undercover operation?” Jake asked.

“Information,” Nelson said smoothly. “Insights into how the Bratva operates. And opportunities to flip members and turn them into informants.”

Jake frowned at him. “Has anyone from this group approached the FBI? Offered themselves as an informant in exchange for dismissing charges against them?”

“No, that’s part of your job. Find those guys. Try to flip them.”

Jake’s stomach twisted into a knot. Thank God Livvy would be there to back him up. Because he was definitely going to need it with this shit show. Pretty much everything Nelson said haddangersigns flashing in bright red.

“Okay, Nelson. I’m on it.”

Nelson smiled at him. “Good to hear, Dunbar. Check in daily while you’re undercover.”

“Will do, boss,” Jake said, watching Nelson walk out of his office.

Next up on his personal agenda -- figuring out why Nelson wanted him dead.

Jake left the office early. He needed to think through this assignment and figure out how to handle it. How Livvy could best back him up. And he needed to do some research on this new Bratva group.

He went to the library and looked up the name of the Bratva clan he’d be infiltrating. It was an actual group, a small social club in Sheepshead Bay. He dug into them, found they were active in all the usual Bratva niches -- occasional contract killing, loan sharking, prostitution, construction management, money laundering, robbery.

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