The Dividing Line: ABSOLUTION #COMPLETED (Book 3)

11 ѱ CAUGHT UP (BWWM)

Wednesday, 04/24/2019 6:30 pm

It was pretty standard to turn a call for a meeting into a three-day event whenever leaders requested the attendance of chapter heads. Pressing matters of business, conflicts, and leadership changes came to the light of day at that time.

     Concluding the business with the attorney, about ten of Igor's men entered the office.

     "He is not to leave this room. Even if he has to take a piss..." He picked up a water bottle, emptied it, and sat it back on the desk.

     "What am I supposed to do with that?" Asked Bruce.

     "If he has to take a piss, he can piss in that." Igor pointed at the empty water bottle and walked outside.

     "Awaiting your order, sir." One of the heavily armed men asked as he walked out of the building.

     "Surround this building. I don't want anyone going in or coming out."

     "Sir. Yes, sir." His men responded to his command as they positioned themselves around the building.

     Reaching his white 2019 Ford F-350 Platinum, he stepped inside the truck and placed a call to his second in command. Issuing a set of instructions, Igor explained the situation at hand.

     "I need you to place Travis in charge. Bring a hundred of our finest guys in case things get a little hairy over here. I needed you here yesterday. I'll contact Colonial Hanson. Meet at the normal rendezvous point, and he will get you here in a jiffy. Be prepared to move out at 2000 hours."

     The next call he made was to the Colonial to fly his guys out. He explained that there would be a nice little bonus for him if he could make it happen ASAP. The men settled on a fee,  secured the business transaction, and placed an emergency text to the other leaders.

     TEXT:

     Group Text (Lin, Raf, Var):

     Office Now... ☠☠☠

                         👍: Lin

                         👍: Raf

                  🤬🤬: Var

ѱ ѱ ѱ

Igor opened his middle console and grabbed a pair of tactical leather gloves, a hunting knife, and a bottle of Aalborg Akvavit Jubilaeums. He placed the knife in a compartment on his belt loop then shoved the gloves in his vest pocket.

     As he trained his eyes on the bottle of hot liquor, he recalled the last time he allowed himself to take a drink. That night he broke a promise he had made to himself for the last time. He reached for the bottle his uncle had given him the last time he visited Denmark. Even though he accepted the gift, he had no intention of breaking the seal.

     Igor eyed the bottle for a beat. Finally, his hand reached over and opened it. He placed the opening to his lips and took a long drag of the fiery herbal liquor. Fifteen years ago, he promised he would never drink again after returning from his trip to Atlanta, Georgia. His need to confirm with his own eyes that all was well drew him to a city he had no business being in.

     There was no reason for him to take that trip. Yet, even though he lied to himself and everyone else that mattered, including his wife, he managed to pull off the visit like he had many times before.

     Once a year, for thirteen years straight, Igor was smart enough to cover his tracks. He always managed to make his connection while out of town, making the trip appear legitimate. But he knew an ulterior motive drew him to different locations in the US and a couple of sights abroad.