Ivan’s POV
TW: VIOLENCE!
I had always kept my legal business apart from my illegal business, but that wasn’t always possible. Like right now. I needed to get the man screaming and kicking in the trunk to a dark, secluded, quiet place. Preferably, the dungeon in my house, that would be a risk, all I needed was for someone to hear his screams and we are fucked.
There hadn’t been anything to tie him up, so Sidorov and the boys simply tossed him inside the trunk. I picked up the camera he had with me and scrolled through.
“How many pictures did he take?” Sidorov asked from the front seat.
“Not much,” I replied as I rubbed the stubble on my chin. The picture the reporter had captured was clear as day, it had my face in it and it showed the contents of the crates. This would be bad for me if it had gotten out. I shoved the camera onto the seat beside me.
How did he discover the hidden warehouse? Did the reporter not know how stupid this was? How completely idiotic he was to cross the line with a man like him? Soon enough, he was going to find out though, that there was more to me than the philanthropist I portrayed for the media.
As soon as we pulled into the abandoned building behind one of the clubs I owned, I climbed out of the car, and Sidorov and Alek joined me.
Alek opened the trunk and the man tried to jump out but Alek was faster. He punched in the face and the man scrambled back into the trunk.
“Arggh! Fuck,” He groaned. “Let me go!” He shouted as Alek tried to pull him out of the trunk.
I looked at the man as he shrunk away from us. He was at least thirty-five.
“You’re going to come with us, I am not in the mood for these tantrums, you don’t want to test me,” I said.
He held his now bleeding nose from Alek’s punch to His face earlier. “I am not afraid of you,” he said as his voice shook. “I know what you are, what you do.” His eyes darted from me to Sidorov to Alek and then back to me. “All of you, you’re nothing but criminals. I know exactly what you do!” He spat out.
“Then you know what I can do to you,” I replied calmly. “Seriously, I don’t have the patience for this. You’re coming with us.”
“No! So you can kill me and get away with it?” He moved back. “If you have to kill me, you might as well do it here so I can leave evidence here and you go down for murder.”
Sidorov stepped forward, but I held out a hand. “I’ll handle him,” I said softly.
I took my pocket knife out and pressed it against his throat as I grabbed his shirt. “Step out!” I growled.
Fear clouded his eyes as he moved to get out of the trunk, the moment he was out, I drove a punch to his gut, and he groaned and fell hard against the floor, hurting his shoulder in the process.
Sidorov moved quickly, he took off the man’s shoe and snatched his sock, shoving it into his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up,” Sidorov snapped as he slapped the man. He pulled out his belt and wrapped it around the man’s head, effectively muffling his sounds and securing the sock in his mouth.
“Get him inside,” I said to Alek and Sidorov. The van with Fedor and the men who worked under him at the warehouse Was yet to get here. There were two things to take care of; finding out who sent this reporter and what happened to the shipments. I had to kill two birds with a stone.
I took out my phone and called Igor while Sidorov and Akek dragged the reporter into the abandoned building.
“Where are you?” I asked as soon as the call connected.
“We are here boss,” Igor replied, and immediately the headlights of the van came into view.
The van came to a halt in front of me. Igor and six other of my men pulled the culprits out of the van into the abandoned building.
As soon as I joined them, Sidorov waved a wallet at me. “His name is Boris Makarov, works for the RASS newspaper.” He turned and held the man’s chin up. “Is this your current address, Boris?”
When he didn’t reply, Sidorov punched him. “I asked a question,” he snapped.
Boris nodded frantically, and a single tear dropped to his cheek.
“You have a family, don’t you?” I asked.
Another nod.
“Good. Then you know how this works, yes? You give me the information I want, or we visit them.”
He visibly shuddered as he nodded harder than the last time.
“Nice, so this should be quick.”
Sidorov and Alek got to work they steered the reporter to a chair that was usually kept there and tied him to it with duct tape Alek had gotten from the club.
Once secured tightly to the chair, I yanked the gag from Boris’s mouth.
“Alek, join Igor and the rest to get answers from Fedor and his men. I don’t care how you do it, be as brutal as you want to be, I just need the truth about those shipments. Got it?”
“Yes, boss,” he answered and turned to the other side of the building where the other interrogation was being held.
Sidorov pointed a gun at Boris as he began the interrogation. “What were you going to do with the pictures? And who told you about the warehouse?”
“I-I don’t know,” Boris answered.
I brought out my pocket knife and stabbed his thigh. He screamed as he wriggled against the chair.
I tilted my head. “This is what happens when you waste my time. I have meetings to set up and lots of paperwork to complete.”
I pulled out the knife in his thigh with great force and he cried out, thrashing his head from left to right while his thigh bled.
“Now, let’s try that again,” I said. “I ask questions and you give me immediate and honest answers, yes?”
“Y-yes, f-fuck,” He wheezes.
“How did you know where the warehouse was and what were the pictures for?”
“I- it’s for a story,” Boris croaked. “About the warehouse, I received a tip, I swear!” His eyes darted between me and Sidorov. “I received a call that said the Kozlovs weren’t as clean as the media portrayed. I only followed up on it. That’s my job.”
“Who gave you the tip?”
“It was anonymous, how should I know?” He muttered.
“But you have the caller’s number,” I stated.
He squirmed in the seat. “N-no.”
“He is so full of shit,” Sidorov groaned. “Mind if I speed this up? Clearly, he’s here to waste our fine.”
“Okay,” I said.
Sidorov picked up his belt that was discarded when I yanked it off Boris’s mouth and stalked over to Boris. His pleading fell on deaf ears as Sidorov hit his chest repeatedly with the belt. He cried and begged as he wriggled against the chair.
I let it go on for a while before I held up my hand to stop him.
I walked over and searched his pockets for his phone and scrolled through it. He had a wife and three kids. I decided to search for him on the Internet. Apparently, he was arrested for sexual harassment at his workplace and then tried to bully the victim into keeping quiet.
How did he keep his job? Someone with influence must have helped so he could get dirt on me. This was nothing new.
“No wonder you’re desperate for a story, you’re trying to save your career,” I mused.
I opened his call log, took a picture of it, and sent it to our hacker guy, just in case Boris would hold out for long and was willing to take the name of his informant to his grave.
“Who knew where you were going today,” Sidorov asked.
“My family! Everyone!” Boris yelled as sweat broke out on his face. “I told my colleagues, my wife, my brother!”
“Lies,” I cut in. “Sidorov, you shouldn’t have asked that, he was bound to lie to save himself anyway.”
“Y-you don’t know that, I could have,” he stuttered.
“Sure, you could have,” I shrugged. “But I know a liar when I see one. I can see it in your eyes. And I hate to break it to you, but I can still do what I want with you even if you did tell everyone.”
Boris dropped his gaze in defeat. As expected. People like him were ridiculously easy to read.
This was so damn annoying and not how I planned my day. I needed a cigarette. I patted my pockets and realized I’d left it at the office. “You got any cig?” I asked Sidorov.
“Yeah,” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I took one out and slipped it between my lips.
“Lighter.” He passed me one.
I pressed down on it and the flake flickered to life as the tip burned red before it calmed.
I exhaled a cloud of smoke and moved closer to the culprit. “I’m sure you know who tipped you, you’ve been discussing with them and they have been sending you money. It’s all in your phone. You’re going to give me the name of that person,” I said calmly.
“I don’t-” His words were cut off as I stabbed my cigarette butt into the hole my knife made in his thigh earlier, without warning. The sounds he made were more animal than human as he jerked and bucked into a chair. It moved and scraped against the concrete, looking like it would tip over at any moment. I gripped his shoulders hard and held on.
When he could speak again he sobbed uncontrollably. “He didn’t give me his name, I swear! He-he just called one day and offered me money and told me he could help me revive my career if I was willing to take the risk!” He cried out. “But I know he wasn’t from here, he… he had an accent, it was usually muffled but I could tell.”
Though I had a hunch, I still asked. “An accent you say… what type?”
“British,” He croaked out.
I squeezed his shoulders. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? I mean, you’ve held out for long even with the torture and threats to your family. This could all be bullshit.”
“I swear!” I’ve told you nothing but the truth.” I searched His eyes and saw he was serious.
Now, I know I have a lot of enemies. Not just in Russia, but the whole of Europe, in this business you always have to watch your back. But I was damn sure this was Smith’s doing, my instincts were never wrong.
I have to hand it to him. He outsmarted my guard and had a lot of nerve to try shit with me time and time again.
Just then, Igor’s call came in.
“Got anything out of them?” I asked.
“Yes, boss. Fedor has been stealing guns to sell to local gangs to make money off it. But this time he made a mistake,” Igor replied.
My jaws clenched. “Finish him off.”
“Yes, boss.”
I hung up and turned back toward Boris, his eyes widened as he realized what I wanted to do. He immediately pissed himself as he whimpered, shouted, and cried. I took out my gun and pulled the trigger, silencing him for life.
I’ve been too soft and lenient with Smith. I thought to myself. I have to put an end to this at once.
“Sidorov, get the boys to clean up this mess. Leave no trace behind, he’s a reporter. Any mistake could be bad for us. Take care of his car too. And soon we leave for London, we have unfinished business.”