Nine

Flynn

Isaak Sokolov, the head of the Russian Mafia, was waiting for me at the warehouse. And he wasn’t alone.

“I see you brought some friends,” I said as I took my seat.

Isaak didn’t seem amused. His friends, Alexei and Nicolei, were brothers who had earned Ol’ Ike’s trust over the years. They’d done well for themselves in working their way up the ladder, eventually earning the rank of second in command—unless of course, Isaak ever had children. Which I could never imagine.

Isaak was a brute of a man–tall, imposing, and big in a way that wasn’t fat. He was pure muscle. He didn’t need bodyguards, but he brought them along just in case. To intimidate or impress, I assumed. And it worked on most people—but I wasn’t most people. I wasn’t intimidated by brute strength because I knew Ike might be big, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed either. Now Alexei, that boy was bright. He was somebody I was going to have to watch out for.

“You have a snitch, Mr. O’Brien,” Isaak said without preamble—getting right to the point. I liked that in a businessman.

“Do ya have any proof, my friend?”

“I’m not your friend, Mr. O’Brien.”

“Of course you’re not. It’s just a saying, Mr. Sokolov,” I said. “But the first part of the question still remains—where’s your proof?”

Isaak looked at me, narrowing eyes that burned with anger, before Nicolei answered for him. “First, the two cops outside our warehouse during our run–”

“Could’ve just been following a suspicious-looking vehicle,” I said. “We don’t know for sure it was intentional or that they had any idea–”

Nicolei tossed down some photos in front of me. The pictures depicted a police barricade outside of the same warehouse where the murders had taken place.

“Probably looking for the two cops, which we’ve taken care of.”

Nicolei placed more photos of police officers raiding their other warehouses around the city.

“And those, Mr. O’Brien? Do you believe those to be connected to the police killings, too?”

“Could be? If they linked the warehouse to you, why not?”

Isaak spoke up again, finally breaking his silence. “You brought this trouble on us, Mr. O’Brien. It’s your men and their carelessness who caused this to happen,” he growled. “Now, tell me–what am I supposed to do?”

He was right that we were the ones who’d brought this trouble raining down. Not that I could admit that. I glared at Colin who was sitting beside me. This shit was still on him.

“We’ve taken care of the problem, Mr. Sokolov,” I said. “I trust you have other locations around the city–safe places the police don’t know about yet? Let’s keep it that way.”

“Too late, shithead,” Isaak said. “They’ve already started arresting my men.”

“On what charges?” I asked.

“You tell me.”

“This is the first I’m hearing about all this,” I said. “Let me meet with my men and see what I can find out, but if I were you, I’d be looking at your men as well.”

As I spoke, I stared at Alexei and Nicolei. They had every reason to try and take their leader out in an effort to gain control of the organization. They both were smarter than Isaak, and I had no doubt they could run the Russian brotherhood better than him. But then again, I didn’t think I could do business with the likes of them. Ol’ Ike was a scary fuck, but Nicolei and Alexei were pure evil. They were the type of men you just couldn’t trust.

“My men are trustworthy, it’s you dirty Irishmen we have to–”

“Hey now, Ike, listen up, man,” I said with some heat in my voice so he knew I was serious. “We’ve been nothing but good to you and your guys–have we not? I’ve kept my word, and you can bet I’ll keep it this time, too. If there’s a snitch—and that’s a very big if—we’ll catch the bastard, and he will die a very painful death. Are we clear?”

“Good.” Isaak stood up and motioned for his minions to follow him. “I expect a report back from you tomorrow after you talk to your men.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, giving Colin a smile as I said it.

Once Isaak was gone, Colin broke out in laughter. An odd sound, considering how serious the circumstances were. But Colin often handled stress in strange and mysterious ways.

“Someone is gonna have to die to appease the overlord, you know that, Flynn?” Colin said, his face still red from laughing.

“Not if I can help it,” I said.

“You think you can fix this without killing someone?”

“I’m not killing anyone unless there’s proof he’s a snitch, Colin,” I said. “Otherwise, what the fuck are we about, eh? A brotherhood doesn’t turn on each other, not to appease anyone, and no matter how bloody dangerous they may be. We stick together. Only if there’s proof and with my approval will we do what needs to be done. But only then—and only if he’s really a snitch.”

Colin stood up and patted me on the back. “You’re a better man than me, Flynn.”

And that’s why I was the leader of our organization, and he was not. Even our parents knew that something wasn’t right with Colin. I might be bloody crazy myself, but he was certifiably insane in the most dangerous way possible.