THE DRIVE TO DROVOSKY’S PORT IS SILENT.
It’s not the calm kind of silence that’s comfortable. No, it’s the kind that’s charged, just like it was back at home, the kind that has everyone in the car holding their breaths and gripping their guns tighter, shoulders straightening the more we get closer to the port.
We all know not all of us would be going back home. And we’re okay with that.
That’s how far the members of the Bratva are loyal to it.
Yuri is seated beside me, checking the drone feed on his tablet. While Kirill, as agreed on, is in the vehicle behind ours, leading the second unit.
Finally, when it’s almost midnight, our convoy reaches the abandoned shipyard. The port is too dark and quiet, even the drop of a pin can be heard.
And the moment Yuri, I, and five guards get out o
