Page 49 of Emerald

14

Ivan

Andrei calls my phone just as I’m parking my Hummer in an alleyway behind the Deutsche Bank.

I already have a good idea what he’s calling about, but I pick up the phone anyway.

“What is it?” I say, brusquely.

“It’s the girl,” he says. “She’s escaping over the back wall. What do you want me to do?”

Andrei means, should he shoot her, or just capture her and bring her back.

I knew this was the likely outcome of leaving Sloane alone in my room, which is not nearly as secure as the basement cells. But still, I feel an unreasonable stab of disappointment. I had hoped she wouldn’t want to run away. Or at least, not so soon.

I should have known better.

“Just let her go,” I say to Andrei.

There’s a pause. Then he says, confused, “Let her go?”

“You heard me!” I bark at him.

“Right, of course,” he says. “You got it, boss.”

I hang up the phone, my face hot.

Sloane was a prisoner. Of course she was going to run the minute she got the chance.

Still, I can’t help feeling like she abandoned me.

What else did I expect?

Nothing. I didn’t expect anything from her.

But stupidly, I hoped.

There’s no time to worry about it now. We’re on Volynskiy Pereulok, close to the Church of the Savior on the Spilled Blood. Dom says that Remizov has a safe deposit box at this bank.

We haven’t figured out exactly which box is his. So, we’re going to rob them all.

As I suspected, when we spied on Remizov’s operations at the diamond district, we saw that he now has several uniformed cops standing guard. They’re not involved in the sale of the gemstones, but it’s clear that Remizov is operating with their tacit approval, under their protection.

I’m amazed at the blatant control he’s securing over the St. Petersburg police. It’s not as if the cops haven’t taken bribes to turn a blind eye before, but this is police collaboration on a whole new level.

I’ve met with the heads of the St. Petersburg branches of the Sidarov, Nikitin, and Markov families. Only the Markovs were willing to join my men today. Olaf Sidarov openly admitted that he’s already allied himself with Remizov, and Eli Nikitin said he wanted to remain neutral for the time being—which means he wants to see which way the wind is blowing so he can attach himself to the apparent winner.

If that winner is me, Nikitin is very wrong to think I’m going to forget his cowardice and disloyalty.

Hedeon Markov, by contrast, is an old gangster who’s never kissed the ring of anyone in this city. He’s as stubborn as a mule. Today I love him for that.

He’s sent me four men to add to my nine, including his son Kristoff. Kristoff is as fat and grumpy as his father, but I’ve heard that he once took down four men in a bar fight, and half the walls in the bar as well. So I’m glad to have his scowling bulk next to me.

I’ve also got Alter Farkas, whose wife and daughters were killed by Remizov’s men in the raid on the diamond district. He’s even older than Hedeon Markov, and no fighter, but he has information that will be useful to me today.

I divide my men into three groups, with Markov and Farkas’s men parceled out amongst them. I’m not taking any chances on double-crossing. I’ve instructed Dom and the others that no one texts or calls anybody until after our work is done.

We split up to hit three places at once—the bank, the diamond district, and the customs office where Remizov has been usurping the Stepanov’s drug smuggling operation.

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