Page 3 of Reid's Fixation
Reid nodded, “What do you need me to do?”
Mark let out a small breath, “I need to get you to go undercover. You have to get into his operation and bring him down from the inside out. You need to find the evidence I haven’t been able to find. But it won’t be easy. You will be in danger there and I know Nikolai isn’t kind, nor is he lenient. You will be tested and if you fail, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Reid thought about what Mark was asking him to do. Knowing that if he did this job and messed it up, he could be killed. He slowly nodded, “Okay. I can do it.”
Mark grinned, “Good. Good. That’s really good. Let me get you all the intel I have on Nikolai and we will go from there.”
* * *
Mark spent the next few days going over everything with Reid that he knew about Nikolai Mikhail.
Mark had Nikolai’s house mapped out mostly, and Mark knew about almost all of his men. He had arrested several himself.
He told Reid about the businesses that Nikolai owned to help him launder money and about the known drug dens that Nikolai oversaw.
He didn’t know where they had their women held that they used for their prostitution ring, but Mark had faith that Reid would find it.
Mark had let him know that Nikolai’s lawyers were good. Always on top of each and every arrest and warrant and had gotten the men that Mark had arrested off every single time. In fact, Nikolai’s lawyers always came after the Department for not ‘having enough evidence.’
And they were right. Reid had looked over a few of the cases and knew that they hadn’t had enough to go on to make the arrest but had done it anyway.
Mark hated it and told him how much he struggled each time with how quickly known murderers and rapists went free.
Reid had poured over every single scrap of information that they had on Nikolai Mikhail and felt as if he knew every single thing he needed to know and he was ready.
By the end of the week, he was dressed down in casual clothes, worn jeans, a leather jacket on top of a plain white t-shirt and had gone to one of the bars that Nikolai owned and sat quietly inside, just watching.
When Nikolai walked in the bar and up in the VIP section, he did so without looking around and walked with a casual grace, as if he had no worries in the world. Reid kept his eyes on him the entire time, observing each step he took.
After Nikolai sat down, he looked around the club and caught him watching, the man narrowed his eyes at him, but where a lesser man would look away, Reid kept eye contact.
Nikolai raised his eyebrow, almost in challenge and Reid quirked his eyebrow too, just waiting.
Nikolai never looked away from him but nodded to the men at his side and within moments the big thugs who had been at Nikolai’s side walked to his table, he stood and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You will come with us.”
Reid gestured to them, “By all means. Lead the way.”
They turned and he followed behind them. Hoping against hope that he walked away from this encounter.
When they got to Nikolai’s table the man leaned back in his chair, “You are quite bold to stare at me that way. Are you asking for death?’
Reid shook his head, “Not death. Just a job.”
Nikolai’s brows raised, his slight Russian accent coming through, “A job? You think I give people a job for being bold and staring at me while I am minding my own business, do you?”
Reid shrugged, “I don’t know. It couldn’t hurt to try.”
Nikolai looked him up and down, “You are soft. Too soft. You couldn’t handle a job with me. This is a guarantee.”
Reid simply stood and waited, his eyes tracking each movement and knowing that one of Nikolai’s men favored his right leg and often limped from an old injury.
With one quick move, Reid kicked the man in his bad leg, the man cried out, and hit the ground, holding his leg, and Reid reached in the man’s jacket and grabbed the gun out of his shoulder holster and was above him with his gun pointed at him.
The other men all stood and rushed him, and Reid just put the gun back in the other man’s holster.
He stood back up, facing everyone and Nikolai stood from his chair slowly, “What is your name?”
