Page 1 of Hunt Me
PROLOGUE
Mikhail Dmitriyev
Darkness was my friend.
Violence my obsession.
Bloodshed my reward.
A motto I’d chosen to live by.
“Time to kill the motherfuckers.”
Sergio’s voice rumbled through the group of soldiers. The deep tone was tinged with the same hatred we all felt.
No one betrayed the Dmitriyev Bratva and lived.
The Irish had been doing it for years, attempting to destroy the empire my father and uncle had created. I sneered as I moved forward into the broken-down yet operable amusement park, a relic from the early glory days of Las Vegas. Now, the once-cherished family entertainment center catered to birthday parties and school functions, barely making ends meet. Notfor long. The Irish had full intention of building a glorious entertainment mecca.
The twenty-five acres of land located just outside of Vegas was prime real estate. After its destruction, a resort would be built.
But with the Dmitriyev name attached.
The true reason for the park’s continued existence was to allow the Irish scum to launder money more creatively than most. The facility was also used as a meeting zone, a safe retreat away from prying eyes and law enforcement. Families of the Irish clan enjoyed the park while the monsters running the organization discussed who they’d annihilate next.
In addition, the park was used to house millions of dollars of illegal drugs, their mainstay of financial gain. Today, they’d lose a substantive dollar amount. That thought alone kept a smile on my face and a bloodthirst in my veins.
Why?
Because I’d been the one to discover the park’s existence, a location formerly enshrouded in secrecy and security. Because of my investigative skills, I’d been promoted to an enforcer of my father’s regime. A true honor and one I carried with pride. My first test was to end the Irish patriarch’s life.
And I do so gladly, with joy in my heart.
I’d learned everything I could about the O’Shaughnessy clan, the patriarch little more than a butcher. He and his monsters had killed our people for the last time. We were eager to send them back to Los Angeles where they came from. Only I’d prefer to do so in body bags. They foolishly believed they were omnipotent,laughing at us for attempting to rule the city. Without extra security, they were sitting ducks.
At least the fuckers had made the attack easy.
Today was reckoning day.
It was time for Tristen and his entire brigade to meet their makers.
We’d cut through the iron fence at the back of the property. Twilight was just settling in, shadows forming across the empty maintenance buildings. We moved like true soldiers between them, heading for the building housing the Irishmen.
Music caught my attention, the carnival-like sounds creating an unsettling feeling.
The park should be closed, Sundays always used for ‘maintenance.’ Or in other words, to hold the secret meetings and to count their fortune.
In the lead, I threw out my hand, forcing the others to stop. I shifted against the building, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“What’s wrong?” Sergio asked. He was my father’s lieutenant, a man who’d traveled with my father and uncle when they’d left Moscow. As the most trusted man in my father’s employ and his friend, he was the leader of every mission.
“The music.”
He laughed and clapped me on the back. “A cover,mladshiy brat. They always keep their cover intact.”
Young brother. Sergio used the phrase selectively, a nod of respect to a single recruit groomed from a group of soldierseager to please their master. My father. With confirmation of the amusement park as a target, I’d become the chosen one, Sergio my mentor. After I passed tonight’s test, the phrase would be buried along with my initiation. Until another was chosen. The old ways, initiations and tests as required by the Pakhan. Tonight, Sergio was allowing me to take the lead, forever watchful while teaching me the ropes.
A true honor.
