“Will you swear your allegiance?” she’d asked, slender fingers wrapped around the cold metal with an easy familiarity that would’ve shocked her father. “Will you fight for me like you did for my brother?”
“No,” Andrej had answered, because he’d only ever followed Misha and that wasn’t going to change. “I’m done with this. When Misha quit, so did I.”
She didn’t need him anyway. She was taking over already, directing the guests, receiving their condolences with cool grace, her husband and daughters always a respectful step behind her. The entire East Coast branch of the syndicate was present and accounted for, but the expected power plays weren’t happening. Mariya had them well in hand, had stretched her wings and was flying as though she’d been born to it, confident in her
leadership ability as Misha never had been. Power suited her, Andrej observed, not without pride. He’d never seen her look so alive.
Anton stood at Mariya’s side through it all, showing his support and scaring off any potential troublemakers. He was still a legend among these killers, a boogeyman dressed in a crisp suit, watching them all with dead eyes. He looked old. He’d looked old since they’d buried Misha. Well. An empty coffin with a framed picture of Misha in it, and the knife he’d used to kill his first man. Misha’s body hadn’t been found.
“He’s with God now,” the priest had claimed, all patronizing kindness.
Andrej preferred to believe that Misha was with Riley.
It made him happier.
He listened to the whole ashes-to-ashes spiel, thinking of Misha going out in a blaze of glory with Riley and McClane. He thought of the look on Misha’s face when Riley had let him make that choice, hadn’t tried to push him away. So happy to be allowed to die with the one he loved. Crazy bastard. Crazy, lucky bastard.
He missed Kolya more than he’d anticipated. Kolya had been the one to get both of them out of those tunnels when the detonation had proved too much for the brittle limestone ceiling and the whole thing had come down on them with a groan and the clinking of breaking stalactites. Andrej wouldn’t have found his way back without his cheat sheet, but Kolya’s memory was better than GPS even in pitch-black darkness. Kolya hadn’t understood why Andrej had chosen to go back to New York with Mariya and Anton before the military could rally and snatch them all up, but someone had to tie up all the loose ends. Someone had to honor Misha and his father by showing up at their funerals, take care of the money issues, and make sure none of the vultures took off with Misha’s favorite guns.