elderly man of his size would draw attention, but being hunched over and hobbling along with the use of a cane, would cause most people to dismiss him. At least that was my hope. “Don’t be late,” he warned before turning and falling into character, his feet shuffling along the sidewalk.
When ten minutes had dragged by as if in slow motion, I took a last look around, not taking the concealment of the darkness for granted. Evil tended to lurk in the shadows. Relieved to notice absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, I made my own approach, every sense on hyperalert.
Once inside the hotel, I didn’t look around. We’d all studied the floorplan, even taken a virtual tour offered on the Internet. I avoided the foyer and the bank of elevators, opening a door and climbing the stairs. Reaching the landing of the fifth floor, I was surprised to discover I wasn’t alone in the stairwell.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded as quietly as I could.
Yuri stepped aside and gestured to the glass in the door. Moving forward, I looked out to see we weren’t the only ones awake. One of Nikolai’s goons was standing in front of the doors that led to the presidential suite. If that wasn’t bad enough, Grigori was moving down the hallway toward him, drawing the attention I’d so wanted to avoid. Nikolai’s lackey stepped forward, his hand moving to slide under the lapel of his coat.
Grigori’s advance never even faltered. Gone was the hunched posture, the deprecating attitude. The older man appeared as fit and strong as someone half his age, his back ramrod straight as he stepped to stand toe to toe with Kosloff’s goon.
Within a matter of moments, the guard dog dropped his hand from the butt of his gun to take Grigori’s, giving it a shake even as he gave a bow of his head, accepted and then walked away without a single glance behind him. While I attempted to assimilate what I had witnessed, I saw Grigori turn toward the stairwell and watched his eyebrow arch as he used the cane to motion toward the door of the suite.
“I believe that’s our invitation,” Yuri said, grabbing the doorknob. “Are you going to stand there and gape, or are you going to join our little party?” Yuri asked with a chuckle.
Questions could wait though as I watched a steel determination come over Grigori’s face, I had a feeling I already knew the answer. While Nikolai might have been given the honor of representing the bratva’s interests in New York, that was all he was… a representative.
Grigori, on the other hand, was the bratva.
He was the one in command of the Russian mafia and all its branches. Kosloff’s minion had obviously understood that and determined it to be in his best interests to give way to Grigori… most likely earning himself a place in whatever hierarchy would replace Nikolai.
We all drew our guns and remained silent as we entered the suite. Clara had drawn the outlay of the rooms, marking those Nikolai had taken as his own. We crossed a marble foyer with the soft lighting of concealed bulbs illuminating our way. The silence was thick until a cry sliced through it like a knife… stabbing into my soul as well.
Only Yuri’s quick reaction and the vise-like clamp he had on my arm kept me from forgetting all about stealth and slamming into the room where Clara’s cry had come from. Grigori simply looked at me for a moment, whether to admonish me or as a gesture of understanding from one man to another, I didn’t know, but it was enough for me to nod and have Yuri release me.
Grigori turned the knob and pushed the door open, great attention to a proper maintenance schedule assuring there was not so much as a faint squeak of a hinge or the brush of wood over the thick pile of the carpet to herald our entrance into the master suite. I would never forget the view that greeted us, but if I had any doubts about what would happen here tonight, the sight of Clara spread-eagled on the bed, her fingers clenching against the ropes, her heels pushing against the sheets, held in place by Nikolai’s restraints had each one disappearing like smoke in the wind.
“Get the fuck off her,” I demanded, lifting my gun to aim at the back of Nikolai’s head.
When he didn’t so much as flinch, I stepped forward, and