Prologue
Manhattan, 2008
“Now what? I’m a dead man. I’m going to die.”
“No, you aren’t, Ivan. Trust me, you did the right thing Ivan.” Dante Romanoff attempted to calm his cousin. Things were in motion. It was like it was fate, a destiny none of them could have ever imagined. Certainly not Ivan, who only six months ago was fighting in the desert beside his best friend Commerce and their team of Marines, a Special Operations unit.
Ivan Sokolov looked at his hands. They were shaking, and tainted with blood. Kolikov’s blood. He had killed before, in the heat of battle, his life or the enemies. Why did this feel so different? Why, when Kolikov was nothing but evil? The man was a ruthless, nasty bastard who killed people with an order and a snap of his fingers and for little reason. Locca K
