Page 4 of Blood & Snow

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My stomach tightens.

The man has been handling my cleanup operations for two years.

He does professional work, with complete discretion, and there are never any complications or loose ends.

But he's getting antsy, and it's a concern.

"Concerns become complications," Markov continues.

"Complications become threats. Find a replacement before you begin operations against the Brotherhood. Someone desperate enough to take the work, competent enough to handle it properly, and expendable enough that when this is over, they can be the final body that needs to be cleaned."

The war against Sokolov will generate more corpses than I've produced in the past six months combined.

I need someone new, someone hungry, someone with no connections to complicate their disposal when the operation concludes.

"And make their deaths educational," Markov replies.

"They believed they could steal from us without consequences. Show them what happens when amateurs challenge professionals who have been killing for longer than they've been breathing."

The meeting concludes without handshakes or pleasantries.

I take the elevator down and by the time I reach street level, my mind has begun making a structured plan of how to do this.

I'm going to need help or I'm going to end up joining Sokolov and his men.

Snow falls across Red Square when I emerge onto the street.

October in Moscow always feels apocalyptic as the city disappears under layers of ice and darkness while the sun barely climbs above the horizon before setting again.

They're perfect conditions for conducting a war that must remain invisible to civilian authorities.

But underneath the strategic planning runs a more immediate concern about finding someone to sanitize the crime scenes I'm about to create.

Because we can't get caught.

Even one tiny drop of blood would link a single murder back to me, and they'll all be tied together after that.

Moskovsky Komsomoletspublishes classified advertisements every morning.

Desperate people scan those pages looking for employment that doesn't require background checks or extensive qualifications—hotel cleaning services, office maintenance positions, residential housekeeping jobs.

All are potential covers for less legitimate work arrangements.

I'll place an advertisement tomorrow morning.

Something appropriately vague about cleaning services requiring flexible hours and offering immediate cash payments.

Then I'll wait to see who responds, who's hungry enough to walk into a crime scene and begin scrubbing without asking too many questions about the previous occupant's fate.

I have two months to prove my worth, which means I have mere hours to find someone to replace my current cleaner, and their test to see how well they perform will be to sanitize the man I'm on my way to eliminate now.

And if his replacement can handle that task, I'll keep them for a few days before I find a new one.

I scrape the last traces of blood from under my fingernails and begin planning a war that will fill Moscow's gutters with Brotherhood corpses before the new year arrives.

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