The hotel bar at the base of the Monaco has an ugly nautical theme, probably because it’s ten feet from the inner harbor. The place is crowded on a Friday night, and I pause on the threshold and scan the faces for anyone I recognize.
Nobody stands out. That’s the problem with the Mantis. I only knew a few of their key members, and most of them would never bother stepping foot in Baltimore. Their low-tier thugs are totally unknown to me.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t spot them, like the guy standing alone near the windows and looking too casual as he stares at his phone. The bulge under his jacket suggests he’s not here for the sugary drinks. There are another couple of mooks elbowed up at the end of the bar, both of them studiously watching the Orioles get their asses kicked by the Phillies on TV, neither of them dressed like they belong.
Then there’s Iron Head himself. He’s got a booth to himself. A martini sits half-finished at his elbow as he types something into his phone. I want to hang around a little longer until I can make out the rest of his crew, since there’s no way he’s only got three men watching his back, but I don’t have time.
Jeremy Fong, also known to me as Iron Head, smiles up at me as I slip into the seat across from him. “It’s good to see you again, Permafrost.”
“You as well.” I lean back, arms crossed over my chest. There’s a strange flutter in my gut as Iron Head finishes on his phone.
I don’t get nervous for deals like this. I rely on skill and rational thinking, not emotions or guesswork, and that means I don’t have anything to be worried about. When I take a job, it gets done, and that’s why people keep hiring me. No surprises, no bullshit.
Except it isn’t me I’m thinking about right now.
If I were the only one involved in this mess, I could find a way to deal with it, but my wife’s wrapped up at the center, and I still haven’t thought of how I’ll untangle her.
“Sorry for that.” He puts his phone down and folds his hands together. Iron Head’s dressed in a simple black suit with a dark red tie the color of blood, like his throat was slashed open. His smile is somewhat charming.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was just some average business consultant.
“I don’t have a whole lot to offer at the moment.”
“I’ll be honest and admit that I’m surprised. When I hired you, I was told that I was hiring the best.”
“You were, and forgive the cliché, but this is a needle in a haystack situation.”
“That’s supposed to be what you do. You conjure lost needles.”
“And I will, but I need more time and more information.” Mostly because I need to know if Iron Head and Mantis have Riley on their suspect list. Otherwise, I’ll be able to steer them in a different direction.
“You have everything we have.” He tilts his head to the side as if considering. Around us, men and women in business outfits laugh and talk over expensive drinks. The American workforce slowly unwinding. I wonder how many mistakes will be made tonight.
“Then I’ll need time.” I proceed to tell him what I’ve done so far, the patterns I’ve searched, the dead ends I’ve followed. He listens intently as I lay out several potential places the watch could be, carefully mentioning Riley’s father toward the middle while making it clear that he’s not really on my radar.
Iron Head listens patiently. When I’m done, his lips press together for a moment in thought. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, spreading his hands. “I am going to convince my superiors to give you another four weeks. Consider it a wedding present.” He smiles broadly, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“I appreciate that,” I say, suppressing the ugly feeling running down into my toes. He’s only being polite. There’s no way he knows my wife is deeply involved. “The wedding was only just last night. I guess word spreads fast.”
“An alliance between the McGraths and the Brotherhood certainly has some people talking.” He takes a sip of his drink. It looks like that’s the first time he’s touched it. “Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon right now?”
“No rest for the wicked.”
He laughs and tugs at his shirt sleeves. “Yes, I’m aware of that. The work never ends. You know, I met your new bride.” His eyes sparkle with amusement. “She was quite charming.”
“We were an arranged match.”
“I heard. What an antiquated idea.”
“All too common in our world.”
“You’re right. That’s because we’re a bunch of antiques ourselves. We have to be twice as good and ten times as clever to survive as the world moves on without us.” He puts his phone into his jacket pocket. “Give Riley my regards. You have one month, Permafrost. I hope you have much more to give me during our next meeting. We’ll speak again in a week.” He slips from the booth and stands.
I’m ready to be done with this mess. He seems to have accepted my excuses, but they sit like dead bugs on my tongue. I hate coming to a client without a solution or at least a clear path to getting the job done. This meeting was about as terrible as I get at what I do, and now Iron Head is going to walk away from here thinking maybe my reputation is overblown.
But I can’t care about that.
I’d torch my own name if it meant keeping my wife safe, and I don’t even know why.
If only to preserve the alliance Tigran and Arsen worked so hard to create.
“One more thing,” Iron Head says before he leaves. His eyes move toward the bar where the two soldiers are waiting. They don’t acknowledge him, but they’re definitely paying attention now. “I really hate to say this, but I believe I need to be explicit just to avoid any possible misunderstandings between us.” He moves to face me, still smiling that used car dealership grin, but this time there’s an edge to it. “If you fail, my employers will be extremely unhappy. I will personally make sure that you are held liable, and your entire organization will be torched from the ground up. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I say, struggling to keep my jaw from flexing. I hate fucking threats, especially ones that don’t need to be spoken out loud. “We’ll be square.”
“That’s great. Congratulations again on your marriage.” He nods and walks off, leaving me alone.
I stew for a few minutes. That was a frustrating meeting. I have one month to solve a mystery that I’ve already solved, and I still have no idea how I’m going to wriggle out of this mess.
But I did learn something interesting.
Iron Head is as fucked as I am if I can’t come up with the watch.
It was hidden in that speech. Mantis doesn’t accept failure—and they’ll blame him for the loss of the watch to begin with. I get the feeling that his superiors aren’t even involved in these negotiations. If they knew he lost it, Iron Head would be rotting somewhere in a parking garage, and I’d be talking to someone completely different.
That’s good to know.
I wait for Iron Head’s men to leave before I head out. I check my phone and find a text from Tigran telling me to meet him at Pomegranate House. That’s a restaurant owned by the Brotherhood and popular with high-ranking members. It’s a quick drive over, and I’m thinking about my problem with Riley and the watch the whole way. No solutions magically present themselves, and I’m deeply frustrated as I head inside.
Tigran’s sitting at the bar toward the far end. This place used to be managed by his brother Arsen before he became the patron. Now it’s the informal meeting place for anyone that wants to impress the Brotherhood. Half the clientele is related to our family in some way, and the other half wants to do business with us.
“How’d your meeting go?” he asks as I sit in the stool beside him. The bartender brings me that fancy Japanese whiskey I like so much without having to ask.
“I’m still alive,” I say, taking a sip and savoring the burn. I’m tempted to get blasted tonight, if only so I don’t have to think about how fucked I am right now.
“And how’s your home life?” Tigran’s trying not to smile, the sly bastard.
“She hasn’t moved in yet. Not officially, at least.”
“Looking forward to it?”
I give him a flat stare. “Dying of excitement.”
Tigran’s grin gets huge. I try not to feel resentful of him, but it’s difficult. He’s the reason I’m in this mess, at least partially. I took the Mantis job, and Riley stole the watch, but Tigran’s the one who convinced me to marry her in the first place.
The Brotherhood is important to me. I didn’t have much growing up, and the Brotherhood was my only real option to get ahead. I was a quiet kid, good with computers, and always getting into scraps with the bigger guys in the neighborhood. They toughened me up and taught me how to fight on the streets, and I learned how to crack into computers while trying to ignore my mother crying in the kitchen because Dad got drunk and disappeared for a few days again. If it weren’t for my early mentors in the organization, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Probably in prison.
Which is why I’m happy to do my part for my family. I just still can’t help but feel a little resentment toward the massive pile of shit that just got dumped on my head.
“I know marriage seems daunting right now, but you’ll be okay. Riley seems like a decent girl.”
“She seems like trouble,” I grumble, drinking some more.
“Ah, come on. At least she’s pretty.”
“Don’t let Dasha hear you say that.”
“Please, we both know I’m unhealthily obsessed with my wife, but I still have eyes. And I could tell you liked that pretty little Irish girl.”
That pretty little Irish girl broke into my house, got herself off on my bed, stole an important artifact from a violent gang, and is going to get me killed.
But yeah, she’s sexy as hell, and I guess that means all that other stuff doesn’t matter.
“Doesn’t matter either way. We’re married, and I plan on doing my duty.”
“Which is to knock her up.”
I raise my glass. “Here’s to impregnating a woman I barely know.”
“Here, here.” He taps his glass to mine and sips, still smiling. “On that note, I have a present for you.”
“Yeah? Did you get me new dishes? We put those on the registry.”
“Better than that.” He leans in closer. “I’m promoting you.”
I go very still. Tigran’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he lets that sink in. I’ve been climbing the ranks of the Brotherhood for years now, but I figured I hit the ceiling when I was made Tigran’s driver and personal fixer. I’m one of the most trusted and best-paid members of the whole organization, especially considering my technical skills.
“I figured the only way to rise was for one of the uncles to pass,” I admit, trying to keep the excitement from my voice.
“You know Arsen’s been making some changes. I convinced him that we need to start changing with the times, and you’re the man I want to lead the new crew we’re building.”
“What kind of crew?” I ask.
“You’re officially our Head of Cyber Intelligence. That’s just some fancy way of saying you’re going to run our hacking division. At the moment, you’re the only actual hacker we have, but we’re going to change that. We want you to grow our cybercrimes operation, Alexan. Find, train, and nurture young talent. Create a culture around making fucking money and being the best. You’ll be equal to anyone else in the Brotherhood, save for the patron himself. Congratulations, my friend.”
Dread fills my stomach.
This should be the best moment of my life. It’s what I’ve always wanted. This is real power and responsibility. I have the rare opportunity to grow a new division within the organization and leave a lasting legacy. This new crew will be entirely mine, built around my ideas and processes, and we’ll succeed because of my hard work.
But all I can think of is how I’m going to let Tigran and Arsen down.
Not because I can’t handle this. No, if they had promoted me before Riley came into my life, I’d be fucking ecstatic. I already have a dozen ideas for how I can put the team together and the sort of digital heists we’ll pull off.
Only I’m not sure I’m going to be alive in a month to see it through.
Tigran sips his drink, smirking. His eyebrows raise as the silence stretches.
“You letting it sink in, cousin?” he asks. “Because you haven’t said anything yet.”
“Sorry, no, this is good,” I say finally, shaking away the bad feeling threatening to drown me. I push it aside and wrap myself in cold logic. I can handle this promotion easily—and I can fix this shit with Mantis.
I just need to figure it out.
“I think it’s good too,” Tigran says with a laugh. “That’s one hell of an understatement.”
“I won’t let you down,” I tell him seriously. “This is the honor of my life. We’re going to build something incredible together.”
“I have no doubts about that.” Tigran shakes my hand and leans in to slap my back. “Congratulations, cousin,” he says quietly. “You deserve this.”
Like fucking hell I do.
If he knew what was really going on with Riley and Mantis, he’d shoot me in the head, cut Riley’s throat, and wash his hands of the McGraths entirely, all to avoid Mantis coming down on the Brotherhood.
But I won’t give him that chance. I hate holding information back, especially now that I’ve taken this huge leap forward, but I have to think about my wife now.
That beautiful pain in my ass.
