Page 47 of Tracking Shadows
The click of guns being drawn echoes in the warehouse, and Sergei’s smirk widens into a full-blown grin.
“I have to admit,” he says, chuckling darkly. “I’m impressed, Yuri. I told you not to bring anyone, and here you are—with just one skinny woman by your side.”
My jaw clenches, but I don’t flinch. Sergei’s laugh fills the space, but there’s nothing friendly about it. His men stand behind him, guns pointed directly at us.
Sergei steps closer, his grin widening as his eyes scan me from head to toe. “You know, Yuri,” he says, voice dripping with condescension, “for a new businessman, you should learn not to go to deals like this without some backup.” He looks around the empty warehouse, taking in Irina at my side with a smugness that makes my blood boil. “Then again,” he adds with a snicker, “you probably won’t have another kind of deal like this again.”
“You’re bold, Sergei,” I say, leaning back a little, my hands still casually at my sides. “Bold for someone who doesn’t hold a candle in the world of mafia families anymore. You might have been something once, but those days are long gone.” I let the words sink in, watching his smirk falter slightly, though he quickly tries to cover it.
Sergei’s smile tightens, but I don’t stop there. “You see, I like to keep to my word. But how do you know,” I say, lowering my voice, “that you’re not outnumbered right now? How do you know there isn’t a sniper waiting on the building across the street, with a red dot already fixed on your forehead?”
His face remains stiff, but I catch the flicker of doubt in his eyes. His gaze shifts for a moment, scanning the high windows of the warehouse, and just as he’s about to say something, I watch as the tiniest red dot appears on his forehead.
Sergei’s face pales, and he swears under his breath. His men, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor, glance around nervously. They’re no longer as sure of themselves, their guns still drawn, but hesitation clear in their movements.
I take a slow, measured step forward. “Now, Sergei,” I say, my voice calm and unbothered. “I’m not here to cause a ruckus. We had an agreement. You bring the money; you take the goods. Simple.”
Sergei’s eyes dart around the room, the pressure mounting as the sniper's red dot remains on his forehead. He’s panicking; I can see it. His control of the situation and the bravado he walked in with are crumbling in real-time.
“But if you didn’t bring any money,” I continue, my tone sharpening, “you should fuck off before things get messy.”
His lips curl into a snarl as his men shift uncomfortably, still waiting for his cue, their guns trembling slightly in their hands. I know they feel it, too—that creeping sense of vulnerability.
Sergei steps back, his face twisted in rage. “You think you can play games with me, Yuri?” he spits. “You think you can threaten me?”
“I’m not threatening you, Sergei,” I say smoothly. “I’m simply stating facts. You don’t have control here. You’re outnumbered and outplayed.” I glance toward the men behind him, letting the silence stretch between us. “So, why don’t you do the smart thing and pay up?”
Sergei’s fists clench at his sides, the veins in his neck bulging as he glares at me. His pride is wounded, and that’s the most dangerous thing for a man like him. “You think I’m afraid of you? You think I’m going to hand over money just because you’ve got a sniper trained on me?”
I shrug, unfazed. “No, I think you’re going to hand over the money because you don’t have a choice. Because if you don’t, the next red dot won’t be on your forehead—it’ll be on your men. One by one.”
“You’ve got balls, Yuri. I’ll give you that. But don’t think for a second that I won’t come after you once this is over. You and your skinny little girlfriend. The Broker won't let you go.”
“Not if I give him this for free. You see, something you should know about him is that he likes people who give. The Broker is not one to settle for anything or anyone not delivering. Is that not what you're here to prove, you old ass?”
“Fuck you!”
At that moment, Katya’s voice crackles through the earpiece. “Alexei, you’ve got more company. Sergei’s reinforcements are coming. Four more cars, heavily armed.”
I swear under my breath, my jaw clenching as the situation shifts.
“I’m sending the men in now.”
Just as Sergei opens his mouth to gloat, the large side doors of the warehouse swing open, and both of our men flood into the room simultaneously.
No one knows who fired first, but a flash of gunfire and chaos follows. The sharp crack of gunshots ricochets off the walls, and in an instant, everything snaps into full-blown violence.
I dive behind a stack of crates, shouting to Irina, “Stay low!” But in the confusion, I can’t see her. I fire back at Sergei’s men.
A bullet hits the crate I’m hiding behind, and it sends splinters of wood flying into the air. I duck lower, swearing under my breath.
Fuck. This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Katya, Does he still have more men coming?” I shout into the earpiece, my back pressed against the crate as bullets fly overhead.
“No, but I’m going to turn off the electricity system. You need to get out of there now through the tunnels,”
I peek over the crate, spotting Sergei in the middle of the chaos, barking orders at his men. His smug grin is gone, replaced by the cold, calculating expression of a man who sees shoot-outs like this often.