The Law of Three

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Peep Show

 -- New York City --

“We’re not the only ones watching her.”

“I know.”

Roland and Irina observed the street from a patio table at a corner café. Sarkey’s apartment was a 2nd story rent control in a five-floor walkup located in Hell’s Kitchen. He had positioned his people around Sarkey’s neighborhood the night before. Disguised as everything from homeless beggars and drunkards to mothers on a stroll with infants in carriages his hunters blended into the surroundings seamlessly. They’d accrued years of experience in cities across Europe, Asia and Africa, at least those that had survived.

His earpiece crackled to life. “Three vehicles approaching,” Raul muttered. “Two SUVs front and back of a four door sedan. She’s in the sedan.”

“Hold your positions. Peter, Maria, keep eyes on our friends. Everyone else off the net,” ordered Irina, controlling the hunters and trackers as she always did.

The caravan pulled up in front of Sarkey’s apartment. Raul had discovered where she’d lived by following her partner the night before. He’d led them straight here when he came to retrieve fresh clothes and check on the security people already in place. Irina had been the first to spot Szábacs gangsters as they deployed. Seems the Cuman Union had beaten them here.

“We watch the Union. The Union watches the apartment building. The agents watch her. What a cluster,” Roland said, with a slight shake of his head.

“At least the Union isn’t aware of us,” Irina stated.

She stirred sugar into her coffee and raised it to her lips.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Irina stopped mid sip.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Roland ignored her as he watched Sarkey hurry up the stairs to her apartment flanked by her security detail. The last time he’d seen her she was hanging from a fire escape several stories above the street.

“Roland?” she hissed.

Irina grabbed his hand and dug her nails into the flesh of his palm. He gave her a stern look.

“My hand, please,” he hissed.

Now that she had his attention she let go.

“What do you mean we can’t be sure?”

Roland opened his mouth to speak then a thought occurred to him and he paused.

“Roland,” she insisted.

Roland sighed.

“It spoke to me.”

Irina reacted with shock.

“When?”

“Before the attack.” Roland scanned the street before returning his gaze to Irina. “Then again after the helicopter went down.”

“I hate it when they do that,” she shuddered. “So that’s how you knew it was alive.”

“I wasn’t completely sure it had survived until yesterday at the motel.”

“Jesus. The Union must know. Which means we’re dead.” Irina’s hand trembled. Coffee spilled out of the cup. She set it down hard causing the spoon to rattle out of the cup and onto the table. “We have to move. Now!”

“No.”

“Roland. Don’t be crazy.”

Irina stood quickly, anxious to be out of the open.

“I’m not. I don’t believe it’s told the Union.”

“What?” she asked, incredulously. “How do you know?”

“Because of what it said.”

Irina looked at him, waiting.

“It wants to tell me a story, Irina.”

Roland looked at her and smiled. Irina slumped into her chair.

“A story about what?”

“Its pain.”

Irina leaned back in her chair all the strength ebbing out of her body.

“Its pain?” Irina snorted. “Sweet fucking Jesus.”