Sold to the Hitman(61)

The common muscle truly does want the regime deposed badly enough to work and sacrifice together.

I slip up the stairs quietly, checking each step before putting my full weight on it. A few of the recently hired men who got me in might be on my side, but the staff within these manor walls are unlikely to be so accommodating. At least, not on short notice.

Starting to stick my head out the door to the hallway, I pull back inside as an armed patrol passes by. He’s clad in a gray jacket that his hand is hidden inside, and I don’t have to guess what he’s packing in there.

This isn’t the kind of security one expects on an average day, even for a crime lord. Sergei is expecting me.

I reach into my jacket and pull out the hard little black object I brought along for the job tonight. I check the opposite direction down the hallway before slipping up after the guard silently and bringing the blackjack down over his head. In an instant, he’s out cold.

I catch him as he falls and lift him up over my shoulder, making sure to remove the pistol falling from his hand and stow it in my belt. I know I can’t be far from a storage room at this level of the estate.

It isn’t difficult to find one, and I quickly carry my man inside and close the door behind me. The room seems to be used for food storage, as there are crates of dry goods and fresh produce laid out on tables, presumably for the reception of Kasym’s funeral.

I set the guard onto the ground and strip him in a matter of seconds. In less than a minute, I’ve donned his coat and trousers, and I’m able to pull the collar of the jacket up to obscure my face. To the staff, I won’t be distinguishable from any of the other guards newly brought inside for this job.

After binding and gagging the guard with a spare tablecloth, I store him inside a pantry and head back out.

As soon as I’m in the hallway again, my heart skips a beat as I see a maid a few yards ahead of me. She turns to glance at me as I come out...and to my relief, she turns back and carries on her way.

I make haste in the opposite direction.

I make my way swiftly up several flights of stairs, moving as quietly as possible. I’ve had the good fortune of having been to this manor before.

And a hitman never forgets the layout of a building.

The smell of fine wood and rich, expensive carpeting accompanies me as I move up the stairs. It’s a strange contrast for the Sergei I know, the sleazy, skeevy Bratva boss on his way to some other hedonistic diversion. But the relatively pristine state of the house is telling that he spends very little time here; the place hardly seems lived-in.

But I know my information is good. He’s here, and he’s scared.

He has a study-office on the top floor. I make my way to the floor just below that, then take a left into the long hallway. The security on the top floor will be even tighter right now, if I know Sergei.

So I make my way down the hall towards a bedroom I stayed in the one time I visited this place. I was here on business, one of the first times I met Sergei. A mutual friend was introducing us, and I remember loathing the man from the very start.

But even with that gut instinct, I never thought I’d be where I am today.

I push open the door to the old guest room, and the door bumps into the butler who was half a pace to the door handle.

He looks apologetic for a moment, until he gets a good look at my face.

“Wait, you’re not —”

I’m on him in an instant, one of my hands wrapping around his head, covering his mouth, the other hand pointing the gun at his head.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I whisper as the man trembles in my grasp, his eyes focusing on the gun barrel. “I’m going to end this. But I need information.”

I feel his head give an almost imperceptible nod, the man clearly too afraid to make any sudden movements.

“That window there,” I nod my head towards the open curtains at the far end of the room, near the bed, “will the guards be looking up at them? Monitoring the windows, the roof?”

There’s a pause as the butler thinks, then he gives his head a quick shake, looking up at me in no small measure of terror — but honesty.

“Good. I’m about to release you. Go into that closet by the door and hide. You’ll know when it’s time to leave.”

I let the man go, and he takes a breath, grasping his throat for a moment before scurrying off to obey my orders without a moment wasted. I make my way towards the window.

Sliding it open, the night air greets me, but I only savor it for a breath before climbing up on the railing and crawling up the side of the brick wall.

I glance at the grounds below as I go. The gardens are crawling with guards — it would have been impossible to get here without my allies on the inside.