21
We park in a Costco lot in Sunset Park.
According to Google Maps, the place where they’re keeping Mira is an industrial warehouse. What these guys are doing so far from Brighton Beach, none of us have a clue. Brighton Beach is where the Russian Mafia is supposed to be headquartered, according to Eugene. I hope that this actually plays to our advantage. If they do call for reinforcements, it’s a twenty-minute drive without traffic, according to Julia’s phone. Of course, that assumes the reinforcements are on Brighton Beach, and—this is a big one—that they’re going to need reinforcements against the four of us.
Caleb jumps out of his seat and starts rummaging through the trunk of the Hummer.
“Are we shopping for supplies?” I ask, looking in the direction of the huge store. I’m only ha
