Page 94 of Malicious Claim

Chapter Thirty Eight

Whispers in the Dark

Makros and Leila had checked out of the hotel. Nicolai had already arrived to take Leila back to the Crete mansion. Makros, on his part, had to make a quick detour.

The man he had waited to see was in the corner of a dimly lit section of a bar, drinking a whiskey. A shipping contact—one of the last neutral agents still functioning in this war.

Makros sat down across from him. "You have something for me?"

The man nodded, sliding a crumpled sheet of paper across the table. "A manifest. Last-minute cargo additions. Someone's been adding goods to your shipments without your knowledge."

Makros smoothed out the paper, scanning the names. One of them stood out in particular.

The son of a bitch had been right in front of him.

Without saying another word, Makros stood, dropping a fat roll of money on the table. "You never saw me."

The man smiled. "You were never here."

Makros walked out, already dialing one of his capos' number. "We have a lead. I just sent you a name."

Then he went home.

Makros sat alone in his private lounge, the red liquid in his glass catching the firelight. His mind wasn't at ease.

He had made amends for the sabotage of the Russian Bratva whose cargo had been detonated but the problem persisted. One of his own men had given the perpetrators a tip-off. Dragon wasalready on it, but Makros was itching with impatience to find out who was responsible.

And then the phone rang. On a secure line.

Makros answered immediately. "Who is this?"

On the other end came a low laugh. "Now, is that a proper way to greet an old friend?"

Makros tensed. "Aleksei."

"You're shocked. You shouldn't be. I always pay my dues."

Makros leaned back, stirring his drink. "And what dues would that be?"

"You released me when you should have killed me," Aleksei said to him. "And I haven't forgotten. That's why I'm calling you now. Vincenzo has spies in your ranks. Two of them. I extracted their numbers from his phone before I disappeared."

Makros breathed slowly. "Give me the numbers."

Aleksei gave them to him.

Makros wrote them down.

"You should stay in hiding, Aleksei."

Aleksei laughed. "I'm hiding in plain sight. I'm here in Moscow, under the nose of the Orel Bratva."

Makros straightened up. "Isn't that a coincidence?"

Aleksei's voice rose up a notch. "Speak up? I can't hear you over the helicopter."

"You live at an airport?"

"Of course. I live close to my exit route in case shit happens."