Page 86 of No More Lies
“You know what the fuck I’m getting at, Steve. We all get what he’s done to your family, and he will pay, but this is bigger. I need you to wrap your head around that or you will find yourself sidelined.”
“Copy that.” Steve grabbed his truck keys. “Can we get going now?” He started walking outside, not waiting for an answer.
“I take it Sam wanted to bench him?” Ryan asked.
“Yes. But we all know he wouldn’t have listened. Better to keep him in line of sight. “We must take Volkov alive. Sam was very clear heads will roll if we screw up. Washington is watching this closely. There’s too much at stake. Killing him is a last resort.”
“We got this, Dex,” Donnie said. “We have your back, and we’ll all have eyes on Steve.” The others voiced their agreement.
“Let’s hope that’s enough.”
Chapter 20
Diane stood opposite Volkov as he held Anya in his arms. His daughter appeared happy; she was giggling and grabbing at her father’s fingers. Volkov looked at Anya adoringly. The man did indeed love his daughter. At any other time, the scene before her would be charming. A doting father playing with his daughter. Anya was happy and safe, but Megan? She was scared and alone somewhere.
“Where’s my daughter?” She fought to keep her voice calm, not wanting him to see just how petrified she felt.
“All in good time, Mrs. Williams. She’s safe and nothing will happen to her if you do what I ask.”
“I’m not doing anything until I see Megan.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You are not in a position to negotiate.” He nodded at the man next to her who left the room. Moments later he was back, holding Melanie Costas. Wide, frightened eyes pleaded silently for help as muffled sounds came from her duct-taped mouth. The man took out a gun and placed it at her temple, Volkov turned away, blocking his daughter’s view.
Diane gasped. “No!”
“I don’t think you’ve met Melanie Costas, Natasha’s lawyer. If you do not cooperate, she dies first. Your choice.” Volkov shrugged like it was no big deal.
Melanie strained against the man’s grip, trying to speak through the tape. She looked close to Diane’s age. She wore a smart gray work suit, with a white blouse. A stark red-purple bruise had bloomed on her cheek. Diane recoiled feeling sick.
“Alright! What do you need me to do?” Jesus, these men were animals. Whatever it took to get them all out of here safely, she would do it.
Volkov nodded at the man again and he dragged Melanie away.
“Come, sit.” He motioned to a seat at the dining table.
As she walked toward the table, she took in her surroundings. They were in a house. It had been about a twenty-minute drive, but her sense of direction under the hood had been lost. The house looked expensive, but not the taste she would expect from a man like Volkov. Antique furniture and old china in glass cabinets, adorned the rooms, surprising her. It didn’t match the designer suits and flashy cars Volkov paraded around in. They had been standing in the living room in front of a fireplace. The mantel held pictures of cats. No pictures of Volkov or Anya. The dining table divided the living area from the kitchen. Diane pulled out a chair and sat down, willing herself to remain calm. You can do this, Diane. For Megan. Megan was OK. She had to be OK.