Boris’ voice comes through the intercom before I can retort. “Boss, we’ve got a situation downstairs. Four black sedans just pulled up.”
The three of us freeze. I’m on my feet before his next words come through, my chair scraping against the floor.
I press the intercom button and ask, “How many men?”
“Six, maybe seven. All armed, tactical gear.” Boris pauses, then adds, “Boss, it’s your brother. But he’s got a full tactical team with him.”
I frown. Alexei showing up unannounced isn’t unusual, but bringing armed men to my home is.
“Something’s wrong,” I comment.
Katya looks between me and the intercom. “Why would your brother come with a tactical team?”
“I have no idea. But it can’t be good.”
Boris’ voice comes through again. “Boss, they’re coming up. Should I let them through?”
“Let them up. But stay alert.”
Footsteps sound in the hallway outside, heavy boots, from the sound of them. Then Alexei’s voice carries through the door as he barks, “Dmitri! We need to talk!”
I move to the front door but don’t open it. Instead, I hover my hand over the deadbolt. “What do you want, Alexei?”
“I want to end this madness before it destroys everything our family built.”
“What madness?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Through the peephole, I see Maxim and Igor taking positions at opposite ends of the hallway.
“They’re covering the hallway,” I tell Katya and Anya, keeping my voice low.
“How many ways out?” Katya asks, checking her weapon.
“Service elevator, main elevator, emergency stairwell. But I’m sure they have them covered.”
Anya closes her laptop and pulls out her pistol. “How reasonable is your brother when it comes to negotiation?”
“About as reasonable as a rabid dog.”
She moves to cover the kitchen entrance while keeping out of sight from the front door.
I open the door but keep the chain engaged, creating just enough space to talk. “Alexei, you’re making a mistake.”
“The only mistake I made was letting this go on as long as I have.” He steps closer, keeping his hands visible but close to his jacket, where I’m sure his firearm is stored. At this moment, his face bears the same hard lines I remember from our father. “Send out the FSB agent, and we can settle this without bloodshed.”
“She’s not?—”
“Don’t waste my time with denials.” He cuts me off.
“You don’t understand the situation.”
“Oh, I understand. You’ve been compromised by a woman who was sent to destroy us.”
Behind me, Katya mutters something in Russian. I glance back and see her checking her magazine. Her face is cold and focused.
“Alexei, listen to me?—”
