“A group of rebels in the Bratva are causing trouble for me. They’re working with the Albanians. They took control of the armory.”
Ilyasov stares at me for a long while, weighing my words and sipping on his vodka periodically until it’s drained. Then he stands up. “Come with me.”
I want to ask where we’re going, but I know he’s trying to assert his dominance. He’s changing the location of the meeting on the fly to keep me on my toes.
Acting uncomfortable would only give him what he wants. But fighting back won’t give me what I want.
Play his game, Dima, I counsel myself. For just a little bit longer.
He strides back down the hallway I was led through earlier. Men dressed in black with earpieces stand at attention outside various doorways. They don’t say anything as Ilyasov walks out t
