Page 157 of Toxic Salvation
“Two car accidents during routine resupply runs,” Osip starts. “One the day Tali was born, another three days later. Ihor’s men caused both, but they ran before we could catch them.”
“Any evidence left behind?”
“Nothing. They just wanted to rattle us. We tracked the license plates to random rental cars from secondhand dealers.”
“There was also a break-in at the warehouse in Ingleside,” Pavel continues. “We caught the guy, but he swallowed a cyanide pill before we could question him. We sent his body back to Ihor as a message.”
I’m getting angrier by the second. “What else?”
They exchange another look—saving the worst for last.
“Ihor’s been visiting the new hospital board members,” Pavel says. “Trying to intimidate them, turn them against us. We’ve got security details on all of them now.”
“And?”
“The cops came sniffing around last week,” Osip says. “Anonymous tip about arms dealing. We think we threw them off, but…”
“But now, we’re on their radar.” I slam my fist on the table. “Goddammit—this is exactly the kind of shit I needed to know about immediately.”
“We handled it,” Pavel insists. “The cops haven’t followed up in five days. All our teams have been briefed. Security’s tight.”
“I should have been the one briefing those teams. I should have been the one calling this meeting.” I stand up and start pacing behind my chair. “You went behind my back.”
“We were trying to protect your time with your family,” Pavel argues. “Tali won’t be a baby for long. We didn’t want you to miss these weeks just because Ihor’s being a pain in the ass.”
“I don’t get time off,” I snap. “I don’t have that luxury. When I’m not paying attention, people die. It’s that simple.”
“We understand,” Osip says quietly.
“Do you? Because this ends now. I need to know about every goddamn thing that happens in this organization. Every threat, every meeting, every sneeze that seems suspicious. Clear?”
“Clear,” they both say.
I head for the door, then pause. “One more thing.”
They both tense, probably expecting punishment. Instead, I think about Vesper’s words. About family and good intentions.
“Thank you,” I say. “For wanting to give me time with my son.”
Pavel smiles. “Anytime, brother.”
“But don’t ever fucking do it again.”
His smile widens. “Noted.”
“Now, get Denis on the phone,” I order. “We’ve got work to do.”
53
VESPER
I’ve never been more excited for a doctor’s appointment in my whole entire life.
Although, to be fair, this is also my six-week check-up. Which means, once I’m cleared, I can jump Kovan’s bones like I’ve been dreaming of doing pretty much ever since I gave birth.
That’s what they don’t tell you about having a baby. Your body is broken and weak. You’re bleeding and lactating and you’re sore in places you didn’t know you could be sore from.
But you still crave the things you crave.
