Dual Eclipse
4th installment in the Mikhailov Bratva series.
Start Date: February 18th 2024.
End Date: October 28th 2024.
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Victoria
I had nothing to do with these people-those with lifeless eyes, those that held their...
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“I don’t know if someone is trying to hack into our phone, but I keep getting these codes,” I said to Clara as she swerved the car recklessly on the streets. Jesus, we would hit a pole or something if she didn’t slow down. The shaking made me nauseous, and it’s good that I found somewhere for Julia to stay.
Arlo no longer worked at the police station but at the Intelligence Directorate, and I was lucky he accommodated my sister’s stay. I owed him big since these people had their ethics and rules.
“Control the wheel. Give me the phone.” She hit another corner.
“What do you know about coding?”
“My husband is Marco Bortsov, Victoria. I know coding. I see it every day. The wheel!” I take charge, and she takes the phone.
“What does it say?”
“It’s still analysing.” She steps on the brakes when a woman crosses the street like it is nobody’s business. “¿Qué carajo?” Clara hit the horn. The woman raised her middle finger and kicked the front bumper. “¡Perra!”
“The phone, Clara.” She hit the gas, and I steered the wheel.
“Almost there.” She murmured. A grey vehicle sped near ours, and Clara stepped on the brakes. “They’re telling us to turn around.”
“No, the fuck we aren’t doing that. The pilot died, and the two men who were supposed to guard us.”
“We are turning around.” She gave me the phone before grabbing the wheel. “We’re on plan B. Rafael was never at any house. They’ve been following a dead lead.”
“That conniving bastard.” I hissed.
“We lead him to Camilo. Camilo is waiting on the street for Luyano with his men and women. They’ll attack from there.”
“Great.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “You think it’s that simple? I mean, the man slips out of everyone’s fingers. The police couldn’t get him.”
“Camilo will. The psicópata always gets everything he wants. Although he had no deals or business with Rafael, everyone knows the man has to stop.”
“Isn’t that the grey Mustang?” I pointed right. I looked at the one we followed and back right. “How many are they?”
“Ay, Dios.” She hisses. “That pendejo. What colour is the man wearing?”
“I don’t know. Black or Navy Blue.”
“Rafael has a green shirt. I saw him when he sped by. Did you notice coloured tags on the vehicle?”
“There was a red smear mark on the back bumper,” I recalled seeing the mark from the side-view mirror.
“We’re following the wrong car.” She stepped on the brakes and stopped. “We don’t even have fucking service to tell the men what’s happening. They could be leading the wrong car to Camilo.”
