Page 10 of Wraith
“These are the guys watching her place. See the tattoo on his neck? It’s the symbol for the Shayka gang from Omsk. They used to deal in petty things—in respects to any other hardcore gangs. But startin’ two years ago they’ve graduated to bigger and better things—murder for hire, serious drugs, guns, human traffickin’.”
“Which would explain why I haven’t heard about them. They hit the scene after I was out.”
“Precisely.”
“It would make sense for Russians to be after the Lala now,” Wraith said thoughtfully. “The last place Hemmingway had it was in Russia. And their leader is this Storogenko guy?”
“Yeah. You see, none of the Shayka makes a move without this cat say so. If they’re after the Blackbird, it’s on his orders.”
Wraith rubbed the back of his neck. “What does this guy want with the Lala though? Sure, it’s pricy but it’s not like he’d be able to move it through the black market without setting off a shit load of bells. It’s a liability for anyone.”
Tex stopped typing to level his attention on Wraith. “Listen man, there’s the black market and then there’s theblack market—know what I mean? If he wants to move it and not get caught, he’d be able to move it and not get caught.”
“I was afraid of that,” Wraith said. “He probably wants it to fund his growing organization.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Tex tilted his neck one way then the next. “Listen, I have to get ready to head out. If this guy is after Blackbird, you’re going to need some firepower…whoa! Wait a minute.”
“What?”
“You have that look on your face.”
“What look?” Wraith asked.
“The one which says you’re about to do something stupid.”
Wraith smiled. “Nothing stupid. I figure if there’s going to be a war I might as well take it to them. Get this thing over with and get the Blackbird back into her regular life.”
“You know better. There is no going back.”
Wraith exhaled long and hard. Tex was right. “I’m hoping, for her sake, you’re wrong.”
“I’ll get you firepower and a ride to Russia, but I can only get you as far as Chelyabinsk. Once you get there, you’re on your own getting to Omsk and back to Chelyabinsk.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“You need papers?”
“No, not all my old ones were burned my last time in. I don’t know why I hung onto them but, I guess they’re coming handy.”
“Okay good. I’ll set up a care package for you in Kurgan.”
“Thanks.”
“The plane leaves in three days,” Tex said. “Be at the Kirkland Lake Airport at 9 p.m for pick up.”
“All right.”
“Hit me up if you need me.”
Wraith promised he would and after Tex was gone, he rubbed the back of his neck and descended the stairs to the sound of someone in the kitchen. At the door, he leaned his shoulder against the frame, watching Amelia peer intently into a steaming pan. “You don’t have to cook anything.”
She gasped and spun to look at him, spatula hefted in the air.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Morning.” Amelia went back to her pot. “I’m making pancakes. It’s all I could find.”
Wraith nodded needlessly and stepped further into the room. “I know your father hasn’t been around much, but when he was, do you remember if he mentioned the name Storogenko?”
