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Letting go of his coat I wave a hand of dismissal.

What to do next…

Out front, some of my guys shove through the door, my lieutenant barking an order to let me know they have secured the perimeter. I love how efficient they are.

“Mikael, search every crate. Looks like drug smuggling. We need to know who these bastards are and what they are doing on our turf.”

“Da, Kapitan.” He salutes.

I step out of the fishy confines of the warehouse, taking a breath. The fight was exhilarating, but not enough. Pent up energy courses through my veins, making me twitchy.

“I am going to report back to the compound, directly to Pyotr. He will want to know about this,” I announce to my crew, leaving them to their work. Pausing in the doorway, I catch a glimpse of my next targets slinking along in the dark alleyway outside.

“Trying to sneak off, you little brat?”

“Just getting clear of the mess, letting your team do their work,” Matvey smiles at me, only glancing at Ciro once. But it’s the twitch of his nose to the left that gives him away.

“Where were you really headed so quickly? And what the fuck were you thinking engaging with a hostile force without backup?” Now I am starting to get heated, emotion trying to take the lead. He’s still my brother after all, and he almost just got shot.

“Uspokoysya! Calm down. We were just defending ourselves, right Ciro?”

“They definitely shot first.”

“They would not have shot if you did not get spotted, ah?”

“Semantics! They would have gotten away with the drugs and disappeared if we didn’t go back there and stop them.”

“Stop them? I distinctly remember doing most of that work myself while you lay in fish guts. You fucking stink.”

“Hey! I’m a pretty good fighter, thank you very much?—”

“No. I mean you stink.”

“Dammit! She’s right. Now we have to go shower before—” Mat drops off mid-sentence, muttering something about needing to get to bed early.

“Before what?”

“Before reporting to Pyotr.”

“Good boy,” I snap, turning back to Andreev and nailing him with one last hard stare before we leave. “Come, we go together. I want more details, anything you can remember.”

Ciro and Matvey follow me out.

“Yours or ours?” Ciro jingles Matvey’s car keys.

“Yours.”

“I’ll drive!” Matvey holds up his hands for the keys.

“Nope. You talk, he drives.”

“No fucking way, I just got it back from the body shop!”

“What are you trying to say, Mat?” Ciro chuckles, sliding into the driver’s seat of the jet-black Camaro. My brother and his inflated ego. Not that I don’t love muscle cars.

“You do not put scratch on it.”

“Oh, you’ve never driven with me before. Cute.” Ciro grins, revving the engine once before slamming it into gear and gunning it.