Hard Target by Marquita Valentine Read Free Book Online Page B

making myself an annoying pest, but he was always patient with me.
    I owe him my life.
    “I’ll let you go. Work stuff.”
    “Don’t go so long without calling next time, little brother.”
    “Stop getting sentimental, Paxon .” Old man.
    After ending our call, I text my last resorts.
    My cousin Dmitry, a driver for the Bratva, who can get anyone out of anywhere, no questions asked. Or rather hardly any questions asked. In any case, I text my cousin Maxim as well, but this is where things get a little tricky.
    Maxim strictly works for MI-6. While I trust him, there is no way he’ll get involved with something that could potentially hurt his career or put his wife in jeopardy—no matter that they are estranged. However, he cannot ignore domestic terrorism in the City.
    Either way, Morgan and I are fucked if they can’t help us.
    While I wait for their responses, I check the cameras around the city, looking for signs of Wraith activity as well as gunned men skulking around this part of town. It’s rather fashionable, but no one gets to know their neighbors anymore, so that makes it perfect for an anonymous buyer.
    While I told Morgan that I won the safe house in an online poker game, the truth is I bought the restored mansion for a steal—a mere three million—with a corporation listed as the buyer. That’s not strictly illegal. Plus, the corporation is a good citizen, paying its fair share of taxes.
    After finding no sign of anyone from the Wraith Organization, I search world news bulletins.
    “ Blyad,” I growl, rechecking my steps. “How can there be absolutely nothing?”
    I shake my head in disbelief. Little is known about the Wraiths outside of the Bratva world. When I was a younger man, they were the transporters for our family. No muss. No fuss. Of course, someone wasn’t happy with their situation—my father, Vladimir, for one, but he’s long dead—killed by Grandfather for planning a coup against him. And for attempting to assassinate my brother.
    The only good thing I know is that Wraiths are near to extinction, courtesy of my Grandfather’s decree. Apparently, one of their higher-ranking men broke protocol by asking questions and demanding more money. When he didn’t get either, a full-fledged attack was waged on the Bratva.
    From what I remember, it didn’t last long—a day or two at the most. I was fourteen and Grandfather kept me away from most of the violence. However, he did not prevent me from watching their executions.
    “You should know what a man looks like in his last moments.”
    Rubbing my jaw, I log into a new search engine that allows me to spy on anyone, anywhere in the world who has a security system or a camera on a device connected to the Internet.
    It’s not something that most know about, but it’s growing in users every month. Unfortunately. While I find it useful, the Average Joe who does not want their own webcams and security systems used against them, will not.
    I log into Pinter’s personal account, one that I set up myself, and take a look around. He’s seated at his desk, talking to someone on the other side that I can’t see.
    Another quick press of a button and I’m privy to his conversation.
    “He’s like a fucking ghost.”
    “You knew Romanov was a risk,” a bodiless voice says.
    They must be video chatting. I zoom in on the screen. Though I can’t make out the face on his monitor, it’s obvious he’s in a Skype chat.
    “You assured me that he was done with the Bratva .”
    My skin crawls. He knew who I was, who I used to be before he hired me?
    “And I am not wrong,” that same voice insists.
    “Yet he stole the flash drive.”
    “I thought you said the little pizda stole it.”
    Anger rises, but there’s nothing I can do about his use of Russian pejorative to describe Morgan. For now, anyway. I attempt to get a view at the screen, but every effort I make is thwarted.
    David waves a hand in the air. “They are working together.”
    “We