"Boss. All's been quiet," Carlo, one of my soldiers said. He stood by the single window that hadn't been boarded up, peering out into the empty parking lot.
"Has he given you any trouble?" I asked casually, stopping only two feet in front of the hostage. He was maybe twenty-five, his white shirt and loosened tie an indication that he certainly wasn't on Peter's security detail.
"Nah. Good as gold. Kinda expected him to cry for his mommy, but he hasn't said much of anything." Michael sniffed and moved to one of the booths, sitting on the edge of the table.
"Have you been treated all right?" I asked the hostage, even offering a smile.
"Ya... yes, sir."
"Polite. I like that." I studied his eyes. What little he knew was likely low level. "Excellent. I do like our guests to be treated fairly." I yanked one of the chairs, sitting down in front of him. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and placing the tips of my fingers together. "I have a few questions."
"Are you going to let me go?" he spat, recoiling as if prepared for a round of violence.
"That depends on how helpful you are," I answered, able to see Carlo smiling. The young man did have a few bruises, but certainly nothing that would be permanent.
"O-Okay."
"All right. Now, I need to know how much you know about Peter's company."
He bit his lip before shaking his head. "Not much. I just started working there about three months ago. I did accounting work."
"Ah, okay. That means you probably knew a number of the employees."
He nodded over and over again, his entire body shaking.
"Excellent. See, you are very helpful. What I need to know if the executives of the company other than Mr. Church. Management. Board of directors."
"I... I, um, never knew the board, but there were two other people who helped Mr. Church."
I nodded toward Michael, who was already prepared to write down the names.
"Then by all means, who are they?" I asked as I leaned in closer.
He rattled off the two, even adding a third person who handled the various export accounts. That was a good enough start. "That's very good. What's your name?"
"Ke-Kevin, sir. My name is Kevin Reynolds."
I wasn't entirely certain why I had asked his name. Perhaps to keep track of him. I didn't like putting a name to a face. That humanized them, a reminder that life was precious. "Well, Kevin Reynolds, it's your lucky day. I'm certain you're aware of who I am?"
"Yesss... sir."
"Let me hear you say it."
"Aleksei Petrov, crime boss."
I chuckled and gave Carlo a look. "Kevin, after I leave, my associate here is going to put you in his car and take you to a drop-off point. It will be close to the office, but you will have to walk a mile or so in order to get there. Is that all right with you?"
"Yes! God, yes, sir and thank you sir," Kevin blubbered.
"I am a fair man. You did your part. I do have to ask you one more favor." I sat back, giving him another smile.
"Anything. Anything you ask, sir."
"Fantastic. Simply find Mr. Church and tell him that Mr. Petrov is giving him a present. That would be you. Tell him that in doing so, my generosity has been depleted. He'll understand very clearly what I'm saying." I patted him on the knee and rose to a standing position.
"Absolutely, sir. I'll find him right away."
I heard Kevin's chattering as I nodded toward both my men. They knew what to do, the exact location of where to drop him off. As I walked outside, taking a deep breath, I couldn't help but grin.
The tables had turned. Peter had no idea who he was playing with.
My hand? A royal flush. Willow
Frustrating.
Infuriating.
Mindboggling.
There were dozens of words floating in my mind including asshole. I'd fumed the entire time since he left, uncertain of why I'd agreed to help him in the first place. Him. The bastard had a name.
Aleksei.
Gorgeous.
Built like a freaking Norse god.