Corporate Plaything - Page 41

Served the bastard right.

Matt yanked the blindfold on the goon who had dragged Anna from the beach. “Is this the place?”

“Yes, sir,” the man answered in a thick Russian accent, cowering.

“Well, then.” Matt banged the warehouse’s steel doors. “UPS!”

It took several minutes for someone to answer the door. The small slot on the door opened. Someone peeked out, eyes blazing in panic.

“Y-you…” The man’s voice was muffled behind the door.

Justin cleared his throat. “Good evening. We wish to see Mr. Ivan Koleniskov.”

“What d-do you want?”

“Don’t these gentlemen belong to you?” Justin gestured his hand towards the three goons. “We have a few business proposals we’d like to discuss with your boss.”

Silence stretched between them.

“Hey! You dead?” Matt barked and slammed his fist on the door.

“I…I ask first.” The sound of footsteps clattered.

Matt growled. “This is taking too long.”

Justin turned to him, smiling. “Antsy, aren’t you? Do you prefer to come uninvited?”

“We’re not fucking vampires.”

His brother sighed, waving his hand. “Do whatever you must.”

“Finally.” Matt drew Shadow Black from its scabbard. The sound of the unsheathed blade echoed in the dingy, industrial warehouse complex. His chatharnaks drew a sharp breath and stepped back.

“Don’t get yourself carried away, brother of mine. No beheading. No dismemberment. And no life-threatening injury to these humans,” Justin reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Matt lifted the blade high, summoning his powers and making several slashes against the steel warehouse door. He gave it a hard kick and everything fell back with a deafening rumble. “Honey! We’re home.”

“Don’t joke around.” Justin sounded grim. “Finding Joseph Vincent is our priority.”

“I heard you the first hundred times.” Matt stepped over the shards of metal, scanning his surroundings. The gloomy warehouse seemed to be where Koleniskov’s base operation took place.

A huge eighteen-wheeler that must have been used to transport stolen goods the syndicate was trafficking was parked inside. According to the private investigator Justin had hired, Koleniskov also smuggled hi-tech merchandise from the US to Eastern Europe in addition to running a cyber-theft ring. Every available surface in t

he warehouse floor was filled with stacks of crates and boxes. Packing peanuts and sawdust was scattered everywhere.

Matt threaded his way towards the dark passageway. He ordered one of his chatharnaks to stay and guard Yuri and his fellow goons, while the others followed him. During the interrogation, Yuri had confessed that Joseph Vincent was being detained in their main warehouse in Queens. At first, Koleniskov had said Vincent was locked in his mansion, but when Yuri called in that he had had an accident with Anna, Koleniskov said he had moved Vincent to Queens to avoid complications with the law.

Matt stopped and listened. Footsteps and men shouting in Russian echoed from the far side of the warehouse. He looked up. More men ran down from the upper stairs. Matt heard the soft clicks of magazines being loaded into guns. He’d expected that he and his entourage wouldn’t receive a warm welcome. He turned to Darek, the captain of his chatharnaks, to take care of the second floor. He had briefed his chatharnaks that humans had invented clever weapons such as guns and rifles. Still. Humans didn’t have speed and strength like Azurian warrior nymphs.

Darek inclined his head and flashed towards the stairs. His movement was so fast, it looked like a blur in the human’s eyes. A heartbeat later, the sound of dull thuds from bodies falling on the concrete floor could be heard.

Matt heard a faint click. Instinctively, he charged towards the source of the noise. He knocked the gun from the man’s hand and slammed him against the wall. The man shrieked in pain.

Matt grabbed him by the collar. “Joseph Vincent. Where is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Matt sighed. Why did the bad guys always come up with such idiotic lines just like in the movies? Matt felt compelled to give the man a little persuasion to spit out the truth. Azurian style. He grabbed his arm and broke a couple of his bones with the hilt of Shadow Black. The man howled.

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