Page 98 of The Councilor
My mood was in the toilet, which meant a lot of people could die.
And I was eager to enjoy every moment.
CHAPTER 26
Aleksander
The cloak of darkness.
That’s one reason I appreciated the night. It allowed for an entrance and exit without being noticed, especially when I wore all dark blue. It was a known misconception that criminals wore all black. Blue didn’t reflect in the light and the last thing I wanted was to be stopped by some wayward cop.
At least Roman had come through, providing a couple of names and locations. I’d made a mess at a few of them, but speed and information were essential. And besides…
I was making a statement.
Word would get around.
Now I was standing outside the apartment of a man who’d once been Jericho’s best friend. They’d worked the streets together, the guy spending time inside prison after being caughtdistributing drugs. I’d often said drugs were the bane of anyone’s existence. Case in point.
The guy lived in squalor, the facility in the Bronx dirty and rat infested. The stench in the air due to the recent rains was horrific as well.
I moved up the stairs, the sounds of fighting and women yelling easily heard through the paper-thin walls.
The apartment had lost its brass numbers a long time before, now carved into the cheap wooden door with a knife. Crude but effective enough. I yanked out my weapon, pulling on the silencer. I was worried about being heard only because one of the other tenants might try to stop me. Even I didn’t want to kill innocent men and women.
At this point.
I waited and made certain no one else was around, kicking in the door with ease, the doorjamb splintering.
I’d refused a detail of men, ordering them to keep searching instead. I wasn’t worried about my safety in the least. Fuck the world. Fuck living.
Nothing meant anything without her.
I tried to shove the images of her face out of my mind as the man in question came bounding out from another room. Almost instantly, horror filled his face. He knew what I was here for. I was certain of it.
When he grabbed his weapon, attempting to fire off a shot, I powered a single bullet into his good arm. The weapon went flying from his hand, his sharp cry full of agony. I advanced quickly, grabbing him by the throat.
“Ronald. How good to see you. Now, we can end this nicely or badly. It’s entirely up to you.”
He panted from the pain but was still trying to fight me until I squeezed with enough pressure it would be easy to snap his neck.
“Where is your buddy, Jericho?”
My question did catch him off guard. His eyes opened wide and he sputtered, choking from my tight hold.
I loosened it to a point, allowing him to catch his breath and talk. “In prison.”
“Bullshit. You and I both know it. You were his right-hand buddy. You’re going to stand here and lie to me that he didn’t make contact? Bullshit.”
Of course he acted as if he wasn’t going to answer me. I knew quite a bit about anatomy. You studied that enough while defending cases. I pushed the barrel of my weapon against his kneecap, acting as if I was going to pull the trigger. “No. No!”
“Then talk.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something on a table not too far away. I took a chance and let him go, taking two long strides toward the scrap of material. As soon as I brought it to my nose, my body began to shake. It smelled like her.
“Where are they? The girl. The asshole. Tell me now and I won’t make you suffer.”
He continued to sputter, already blubbering, which I loathed.
“Where is she?” My voice was barely recognizable.