Finally, my phone vibrates and we get the all clear. I say my goodbyes to Sandra and tell her I’ll be in touch. I also give her my number and ask her to call if there is any news, or if she needs anything.
We head outside, me and Andrius, with Cassie flanked between us. Ethan and Luka bring up the rear. My security service pulls up outside the drop-off bay. The sleek black Mercedes with bulletproof tinted windows is out of place amongst the taxis and small buses idling nearby. We climb in, Cassie in the back between me and Andrius, and Luka and Ethan behind us in the third row.
As the car glides silently through the streets, I turn to Cassie. “What did the nurses want to talk to you about?”
“Nothing important,” she says.
Little liar.
I leave it though, for now. I’m bone weary, and Cassie is probably still in shock, so it’s not the time. We arrive back at the house, and my heart sinks when I look at it. I’ve never loved the house; I simply saw it as a safe place to stay. Now it’s not even that. It’s tainted, with the blood of Vasily, Derek, and others marring its surface, even if that blood is hidden.
Derek will survive, but he won’t be working for me for a long time. The doctors told me he’s going to need a lot of physiotherapy and ongoing treatment. I’ll pay his wage for as long as he needs, and if he can’t work again, I’ll pay him a damn good pension.
When I get out of the car, the two dogs rush out and greet me. Damn it, they’ve only known me a few days and yet they greet me as if I’m their best friend. Dogs are the fucking best, I think as I stroke them.
My phone jumps in my pocket. I take it out and read the text message as the others troop past me and into the house.
“Be there first thing in the morning, boss. Things are covered here, and I’m not worried about them taking care of themselves for a couple of weeks, B.”
Thank fuck. Bohdan will be here tomorrow. I have Andrius, the four British Special Forces guys, who I might not like, but they seem shit-hot at what they do. There’s also Alexei and another of Allyov’s men, a Polish man called Kasper who has already endured much teasing about being a ghost.
Cassie heads into the kitchen, climbs onto a stool by the breakfast bar, and puts her head in her hands. Why not go into the living room and veg out on the sofa? Or go to bed?
“Why are you hiding out in here?” I ask as I follow her into the kitchen.
“I need a bit of quiet,” she says. “I like this room. It’s friendly.”
“You want a glass of wine?” I ask.
“God, yes. Red please.”
I open a bottle, pour her a large glass and take it to her. “Here you go. Why don’t you go and sit in the living room? Rest up on the sofa.”
She nods, takes the glass and does what I say, squeezing past the group of men gathered in the hallway.
I go up to the men. “Meeting. Kitchen. Now.”
They all shuffle in, and I busy myself pouring drinks for everyone. There’s a mixture of people wanting brandy, whisky, and vodka, which I serve up and hand out.
Once we’re all standing around, sipping at our drinks, I speak.
“As you can imagine, it’s been a very shitty twenty-four hours. I was attacked, on my own property by the Armenians and Popov. They took out Derek and Vasily. They’ll both live, but Derek won’t be back to fighting fitness for some time. Vasily, who looked worse to me, is going to be okay. He needs surgery, but they’ve said his recovery should be smooth.”
I sip at the scotch and relish the burn.
“The Armenian who got involved with Popov is called Tigran. He’s dead, along with Popov, but sadly he wasn’t the head of the Armenian snake. From the intel I’ve got so far, these men are involved in shitty stuff. People trafficking, domestic slavery. Not the kind of thing we want going on under our noses. They’re also aiming for us, so whether we want a war or not, we’ve got one.”
“Myself, Allyov, and Andrius are all in their crosshairs.”
“And the Greeks are going to be dragged into this,” Andrius says. “I’ve received reliable info that