Near Miss

After everyone had taken a drink, Asimov said, “I have news. As we all know, the lawyer Stone Barrington has been a blight on our family for some time now. But that ends tomorrow night. Before the sun comes up on Saturday, he will be dead.”

“Barrington has escaped our attempts before,” the man who oversaw the family’s illegal gambling interests said. “Are you sure he will not do so again?”

“I have taken measures to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

“Anton Pentkovsky thought the same. As did the Gromykos.”

Several of the men around the table nodded in agreement.

Asimov’s jaw tensed. He had been expecting a more positive reaction. “I am neither Anton Pentkovsky nor either of the Greeks. If I say it will be different this time, I mean it.”

The Bean Counter leaned forward and gave Asimov a sympathetic smile. “Perhaps sharing your plan with us will help everyone feel the same confidence.”

“Yes,” someone else said. “We would like to know.”

Voices of assent rose in support.

“I can’t give you the specifics,” Asimov said, “but I can tell you that I have hired the best in the business to do the job. I’m sure you have heard of the Sarge?”

The looks of skepticism he’d been given quickly turned into one of disbelief.

“The Sarge?” one of the men said. “That was a smart move.”

“Thank you,” Asimov said.

“He has an excellent reputation,” another offered.

“And the Sarge is taking care of Barrington tomorrow?” a third asked.

“He is,” Asimov said.

Smiles began breaking out. If the Sarge was on the job, then there was no way it could fail.

The Bean Counter rose and raised his glass toward Asimov, and said, “Then I think another toast is in order. To the imminent demise of Stone Barrington.” He drank.

The others did the same.

Asimov smirked, and then motioned to the man guarding the door. “More wine!”

Lauren was at her desk when the Bean Counter returned with Korolev, who had once again been his driver. The Bean Counter motioned for both for them to come into his office.

Lauren shot Korolev a questioning look. He shrugged and they followed their boss inside.

“Close the door,” the Bean Counter said.

Lauren did so.

The Bean Counter sat behind his desk and pointed at the chairs on the other side. “Sit.” When they had, he said, “You both have a choice to make.”

“Choice?” Korolev said.

“A simple one. You need to decide where your alliances lay. And I’m not referring to the two of you sleeping together.”

Both Korolev and Lauren stared at him, wide-eyed.

“As long as it doesn’t affect your work, I don’t care,” the Bean Counter said. “What I’m asking is if your loyalty is to me or Dmitri Asimov.” He looked directly at Lauren. “I know you were devoted to Peter Greco, and that you kept him informed on what was happening in the family when he was pulling back.”

She gulped. “I... I—”

“I don’t care. I let you do that because it was useful to me. But Greco is gone.”

She stammered again, but no words came out.

Korolev said, “Mr. Asimov is the head of the family.”

“Is that your answer, then?”

“You,” Lauren said. “I choose you.” She looked at Korolev, urging him to say the same.

“I have sworn my loyalty to the family,” Korolev said to the Bean Counter. “I’ve had few dealings with Mr. Asimov, but those I have had have not been... ideal. You have never done wrong by me.”

“I need you to say it,” the Bean Counter said.

“My loyalty is with you,” Korolev said, after a moment. “Why are you asking us this?”

“Because there is an excellent chance that Asimov will be out of favor in the next twenty-four hours. The family is already fragile. The choices made in the wake of his screwup will be the difference between whether the family survives or not. With your help, I will bring stability to the organization.”

“What do you need us to do?” Korolev said.

Chapter 66

Stone woke up on Friday morning to the touch of Carly’s hand bringing him to attention. He returned the gesture until she could stand it no more and rolled him onto his back to show him how much she appreciated his efforts.

Later, as they lay blissfully beside each other, Stone said, “Is it just my imagination, or was that particularly enjoyable?”

“I hope so,” Carly said. “I put in extra effort.”

He turned on his side to look at her. “Are you saying you don’t usually put in the effort?”

“Not at all. I always put in the effort. This was just extra.” She swung off the bed and stood, giving him a view he appreciated.

“I’m not ungrateful,” he said, “in fact, I’m just the opposite, but is there a reason why?”

She stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, looked back, and said matter-of-factly, “If things don’t go well tonight, this could be our last time.”

She disappeared through the doorway, and Stone rolled onto his back, feeling suddenly less relaxed than he had a moment before.