It is a strange, almost surreal feeling to know that I have defeated a ruthless Mafia gangster’s security system, though to be fair to the gangster, I had an unfair advantage. One he never considered when he was setting up his security system. That he would be betrayed by his own family.

I think of my father sleeping like a baby in the trunk of the car while he takes his last journey on this earth, and don’t feel the least bit frightened or regretful. In fact, I feel nothing. Not even anger in my heart. My father has already taken all that I loved away from me. I don’t allow my mind to dwell on Noah even for a second. The loss is too great, too profound. I don’t think I have started to come to terms with the idea that he might be gone, just like Sergei. Part of a dream. No, I’d rather push it away and deal with it later when I am able to.

I focus my mind on the task at hand as we head to the outer rim of the city where I have only gone once. Then I was sixteen years old. I sat in the back of my father’s car and paid careful attention as he told me to learn the route by heart. This is the Evanoff safe house. Only he and I know of it. Not even Baba does.

‘If ever there is any kind of trouble, I want you to come here and wait until I come and get you.’

What a strange and twisted turn of fate that the very house that is meant to be a safe house for him and me, will end up as the most unsafe place for him.

It is dark and things don’t look the same as they did in the bright light of day, but one by one the landmarks come into view, and one by one I tick them off. Bridge. Shell gas station. Vauxhall tube station. NCP carpark. Railway crossing. Weeping willow tree in the Seven-Eleven carpark. Block of Council estate apartments.

The men remain ducked. Almost an hour after we began our journey, I spot the row of industrial looking warehouse and mechanics. The area is badly lit and isolated. My father picked it because it is a place that you’d struggle to find without directions. It is also a place he is not known. A rough, depressed place where poor people live and work. We pass foraging foxes near some bins, a couple of beggars sleeping rough, and a group of kids drinking and smoking.

The roads are bad, filled with pot holes and I slow right down as I don’t want to go past the entrance and have to double back. The more invisible we are the less attention we will attract. I peer worriedly out of the window. All these storefronts look so similar in the dark. Dimitri said the tranquilizer would keep my father out for up to three hours, and since it’s now been an hour-and-a-half since it was administered, I’m anxious that we get him into the building and secured before he comes around.

‘Here it is,’ I announce with relief as I spot the narrow doorway. I fish into my pocket for the key that he gave me, and take the small torch I brought.

I tell the men to wait in the car as I walk in the path of the headlights towards the entrance door. The heavy lock looks rusted and I pray that the key will work. With a little persuasion the key goes in and thankfully turns. I have to use my shoulder to open the heavy door and then step inside. I shine my torch to the left and then the right, locate the light switches and pull them.

Yes!

Bravo Papa. You paid your bills.

The lights are not wonderful, but adequate and I start looking around for the door to the basement that he said was virtually soundproof. I spot it at the far end of the warehouse. The door is locked, but I find a key in my bunch and I open it. The air smells damp and stale. I shine my torch to the sides and find the light switch on the left of the door. I turn it on.

It’s eerily silent. I take a few steps and nearly scream when something brushes my leg, Ugh, rats. Cobwebs catch my hair and send a shiver down my spine. Obviously no one has been here for a long time. I duck my head and see that the room itself is exactly as I remember it. There is a fridge, a cupboard, a bed, chairs, tables. Everything you could possibly need for a week’s stay.

I go back outside and wave to the men to bring him in. While they are lifting my father from the trunk, I reach for the rucksack that I placed in the car earlier in the evening.

I watch as they each take an arm from the inert man and wrap it over their shoulders. Then they rush him through the door. Once inside they let his sleeping body rest against a timber beam.

‘What do you want us to do with him?’ Kiri asks.

‘Down here,’ I call as I make my way down the short flight of steps. I turn around and watch them lie him on his back on the steps and simply let go. My father’s body bumps all the way down. To be honest their roughness horrifies me and then I realize what a mad thought that is.

‘Where next?’ Kiri asks, standing next to my father’s body. His voice is loud as it echoes and reverberates around us.

I scan the cold concrete room again. ‘Put him on the chair and tie him up securely. The ropes are in the rucksack,’ I point out.

‘Okay, Miss Evanoff.’

I look at my father as he sleeps on the chair and I am suddenly moved by his sleeping form. This is my father. What am I doing? I grasp my throat with my hand and remember what he did to Sergei. And my Noah. This is not my Papa. This man is a stranger. Don’t be fooled, Tasha. Behind that peaceful sleeping face lies the heart of an evil monster.

‘Are you sure he is properly secured? Hands and feet?’ I ask.

‘Yes, he can move his head so don’t get too close to his face,’ Vasluv, the older man, tells me.

That brings a scatter of goose bumps on my flesh. I swallow my fear. ‘Good,’ I tell them. ‘You can leave and I’ll text you when it’s time.’ 

‘You’ll be alright on your own?’ Vasluv enquires.

I gaze at him blankly. I definitely did not expect concern from one of Dimitri’s cold-blooded killers. ‘Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. Thank you.’ 

He nods. ‘We will wait for your message to return and do the necessary.’