Page 116 of Blood & Snow

The trap begins to take shape in my mind.

An apartment building filled with pensioners who go to bed early, hallways that muffle sound so said residents can sleep peacefully, and a target whose love for his mother has made him vulnerable.

"I'll take him alone," I say.

The lieutenants exchange glances.

Ivan clears his throat as he leans over the table folding his hands together.

"This isn't a simple elimination, boss. Shubin has forty-two confirmed kills, including two of our best soldiers last month."

"Forty-three kills," Igor corrects.

"We found Sergei's body this morning in the Moskva River. Shubin's signature was carved into his chest."

The giant slithering S slit into the flesh of a man killed by that bastard isn't something you soon forget.

I've seen his mark a number of times, and I won't be the forty-fourth kill.

I stand and walk to the windows where outside, a fresh layer of snow highlights the city's lights.

Office buildings extend toward the horizon, their glass surfaces reflecting the charcoal gray sky.

Somewhere among those towers, people are living absolutely mundane and boring lives.

I'm sure they're aware there are men like me out here plotting death and revenge, but they're peaceful and unalarmed—just like Shubin's mother.

"The old woman," I say without turning around.

"Does she know what her son does for work?"

"She's eighty-three and half-blind," Ivan replies.

"Probably thinks he sells insurance."

The irony isn't lost on me.

A mother who raised a killer while believing she raised a provider.

The lies we tell toprotect the innocent, even as we corrupt everything they touch.

That poor old woman has lived her entire life in the dark most likely, and what a shock it will be to learn her son has been brutally murdered.

She won't believe the reports when they come out, how many men this asshole has killed, but perhaps the shock will simply send her to her grave to be with him on the other side.

"Send the others home tonight. I work alone on this."

"Boss—" Igor says but I cut him off.

"Alone."

I won't allow them to argue with me.

If I storm in there with five men simply because they're afraid Shubin will overpower me, it'll draw attention.

We'll be noticed, and that will trace back to Markov—who won't be happy.

I collect the photographs and surveillance reports, studying the building's layout one final time.