He didn’t know where to go from here, either. All of his other contacts had ties to the syndicate and there was no doubt Papa Tokarev was on to them and beyond mad by now. Chances were he’d given orders for Riley to be killed on sight, which would push Misha over the edge, so they had to avoid their usual crowd at any cost. Misha’s outside connections consisted of a bunch of freelance mechanics, a string of long-forgotten one-night stands, and Riley, who might or might not know a coyote or two, but probably nobody able to help them out of this level of shit. No telling whether Riley would even be useful in a gunfight: a few trips out to the shooting range had assured Andrej that the man could definitely hit what he aimed for, but Andrej doubted Riley had ever pointed his gun at a human being. As far as he’d been able to tell, the extent of violence in Riley’s life so far boiled down to the branding of hapless cows and the odd brawl.

Andrej wasn’t cold enough yet to call this a flaw, but it certainly was inconvenient in their current situation.

Maybe Kolya knew somebody useful, but from what little he’d divulged of his personal history, the few friends of his who were still alive lived in Russia. Also, if they were anything like Kolya, involving them would be like putting out fire with gasoline.

“Where else could you have gone?” J.C. shrugged. “Somehow, that boy of yours pissed off the government. This shit’s serious. I don’t think even your don will be able to protect you from the hell that’s about to rain down.”

“My ‘don’ doesn’t know about this,” Andrej informed him with a frown, “and I’d rather keep it that way, thanks. Last thing we need is the old man taking potshots at Riley. Misha’s one nudge from going postal as it is.”

Maybe Russia wasn’t such a bad idea. Or Iceland. Seemed to be a nice, peaceful sort of country, except for the occasional volcanic eruption.

Apparently, the horses were smaller than Riley was used to, but he’d simply have to deal. Also, lots of green, there. Rustic ambience. It’d be a nice change of pace. No sane person would ever search for them in Iceland.

That was when Andrej noticed a funny look on J.C.’s face. His heart plummeted. “What? What now?”

“Does your Russian friend know you went off the reservation?” J.C.

inquired quietly. “Because he very politely asked permission for your boss to be allowed into the compound and I didn’t know better so I granted it.”

Andrej blinked. “I’m gonna need that cheat sheet now, J.C.”

THIRTY-NINE

“KOLYA what?”