Page 127 of Assassin: Part 1

I’m not sure how long we walk, but finally, we reach another door. Lane shoves Mishka out of the way, who doesn’t argue, and jabs her thumb over a scanner. Then repeats the same with an eye scanner. “I’m taking you off this fucking thing,” she hisses at Mishka as she yanks open the door.

“You can try.” He shrugs, stalking inside.

I stare at the open door and then at Lane who’s watching me. Her expression is resigned, but she doesn’t apologize. “This is how you’ve been getting into the house without being detected.”

“Yes.”

“And how many more of these do you have?”

“We don’t have time to go into it now, but I’ll tell you that it’s enough your brother and Oleg are going to be pissed when they find out. Now get in before I change my mind and lock your ass out here.”

Jaw clenched and body tight, I step inside and gape.

She’s got a whole damn apartment down here and a setup that will have Oleg eaten up with jealousy.

The entire space has to be over 2000-square feet, with a modern kitchen, conference table, workout space, large bed in the back corner, and an entire setup of computer screens and various electronics I can’t even begin to understand, and finally a door that I assume leads to a bathroom.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“Start talking, Mishka, before I gut you,” Lane barks, drawing my attention back to the main reason we’re here.

Damn it, was she ever going to tell me about this place? The logical part of me already knows the answer.

Mishka pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to her, and Lane narrows her eyes as she inspects it. I ease closer.

It’s a USB stick.

That’s what this is all about?

Lane carefully pulls the cap away, inspects the end, and then moves toward her computer screens. “Where did you get this?”

“I’ve been searching every room of the house and found a hidden one off my father’s office. It was full of old boxes with original files of all his transactions over the years, including with the Butcher, and an old rickety desk. And then I found this hidden in a compartment in the desk. The only place in there with no dust.”

“Did you already review it?” Lane asks, inserting the USB and typing away. Screens flare to life, and I gape again at the information that jumps up.

Blinking red lights, camera angles from inside my house, my warehouses, and what I assume is the Belov estate. There’s one screen on the far right I can’t make out, and she minimizes it quickly, putting up another screen with a map.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up, because I know that was on purpose. Whatever is up there, she doesn’t want me to see, and it’s probably not anything I’m going to like.

Then I realize something. A couple of the red dots are moving. And one of them is located right where we are. In the middle of nowhere on the map.

“Are those trackers?” I blurt out.

“Yes. How the hell do you think I was able to keep an eye on you and Mila?” Lane asks, fingers moving quickly over the keys. “Mishka, what am I walking into here?”

His silence has me looking over at him. His lips are pulled into a hard line. “You’ll see as soon as you open it. And Lane, it’s not fucking good.”

Her eyes sharpen, and she types faster while a lead ball weighs in my stomach. Within seconds, the screens in front of her are filling with documents and videos moving too fast for me to really understand what I’m looking at.

Finally, everything is out, and then she curses as she pulls up a few for her to review. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” she hisses. Her head whips to stare at Mishka, who gives her a grim nod.

“What? What is it?” I demand, crowding closer.

“How is that fucking possible? He had to have a death wish,” Lane continues, ignoring me.

“My father was ambitious, but I thought they were the best of friends, and that was apparently not the case.”

Lane shakes her head. “Damn it. I’m going to scan everything, and we’ll see what my system comes up with. I thought you said your father wasn’t good with electronics and shit.” She hits some buttons, and the files on screen spread out over all of them. There has to be hundreds of them.