White Nights: The Complete Duet by Anna Zaires & Charmaine Pauls

Author:Anna Zaires & Charmaine Pauls [Zaires, Anna & Pauls, Charmaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grey Eagle Publications
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

9

Alex

Rushing out the front door, I run into Igor.

“I parked the car,” he says. “Yuri locked up the garage. Do you need anything else before I head out?”

I pull on my gloves. “Where are the others?”

“Having dinner at the barracks.”

“Get them.” I make my way to the garage with long strides. “Take three armored cars and bring a dozen men. Yuri too.”

He doesn’t ask questions. He jogs around the mansion as I unlock the garage door by pressing my thumb on the wall-mounted fingerprint scanner. The roller door lifts. The garage houses the cars I use for the city as well as a motorbike and an off-road four-by-four.

A hidden button at the back opens a false wall panel. Behind it is one of the several weapon vaults on the property. A digital lock requires a retina scan and thumbprint. I open the door and step inside the walk-in safe just as Igor returns with Leonid, Dimitri, Yuri, and twelve of the men not scheduled for the night guard shift. Three cars with bullet-proof windows and reinforced bodywork pull up outside, their headlights illuminating the snow-covered garden.

I take an AK-47 from the gun stand and hand it to Igor. “Take automatic rifles and grenades. Smoke bombs too.”

Leonid hands the weapons to the men who gear up while Dimitri picks three drivers. I instruct them where to go, and in under a minute, we’re leaving the property in four cars.

Leonid and I sit in the back. Yuri drives and Dimitri rides shotgun. No one handles a car like Yuri. He can maneuver a Land Rover down a cliff at a forty-five-degree angle. I don’t trust any other driver. Plus, he’s good with a gun.

Our convoy slips smoothly into the sleeping streets of the upmarket neighborhood. I don’t expect a war, but I take nothing for granted where these motherfuckers are concerned.

The gang that uses the eight-pointed star emblem operates from a shady part of St. Petersburg. They’re a bunch of lowlife scums who make their money by smuggling weapons and drugs, but they’ll do any job for a price. They’re not picky about the so-called freelance work they take on.

After leaving the historical center behind, we head toward Kupchino and park at the back of a warehouse with an eight-pointed star painted on the wall. That’s where the gang stores their merchandise. I came here a couple of times in my youth when I was running deliveries. The attached building serves as their clubhouse, with the kitchen as a sorry excuse for a restaurant.

I scan the surroundings before we get out. Nothing stirs. They’re not expecting a visit. They won’t even see us coming. At my signal, the men exit their vehicles. Half of them follow me while the other half surround the building. Leonid goes ahead to scout the area, his gun pointed in front of him.

For now, we benefit from the cover of the dark night, but as soon as we hit the area illuminated by the streetlights, we move along the side where there are no windows.

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