Chapter 2: The Devil's Car

ERDEM

I felt the boy was lying.

I'd spent fifteen years reading people-their tells, their fears, the micro-expressions that betrayed intention before action. Hendrix had almost none of them, his fear appeared genuine but underneath it all, I sensed something coiled tight, waiting.

Dangerous or damaged? I wondered, swirling the whiskey in my glass. Perhaps both.

The car moved smoothly through the city's arterial roads, heading toward the estate on the northern cliffs, beside me in the driver's compartment, separated by bulletproof glass, sat Konstantin and my driver, Yuri, both armed and loyal.

Loyalty purchased with blood and money-the only currency that mattered.

"Tell me about your skills," I said, breaking the silence.

He flinched-a small, believable reaction. "Sir?"

"The auctioneer mentioned data extraction and languages, what else?"

"I... I can read encrypted files, basic coding, I speak English, Russian, Turkish and some Arabic." His voice remained soft, hesitant. "The Kozlovs used me to translate intercepted communications."

"And before the Kozlov?"

A pause. "I don't remember clearly, sir. Different organizations, they didn't give names."

"Convenient, you'll be tested," I said. "If your skills are as advertised, you'll work in my intelligence division and if you lied, you'll work elsewhere in the grave."

"I understand sir."

"Do you?" I leaned forward slightly, watching his pulse jump at his throat.

My phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen: Silas.

"Where are you? Mother wants you at dinner."

I ignored it. Silas could wait, mother's dinners were performances of family unity that fooled no one, least of all the families we did business with.

The car slowed unexpectedly. through the partition, I saw Konstantin speaking into his radio, his expression hardening.

I pressed the intercom. "Problem?"

"Checkpoint ahead, sir, not ours."

My hand moved to the gun holster at my side. "Whose?"

"Unknown, three vehicles blocking the road, armed men."

Beside me, Hendrix had gone very still.

"Reverse," I ordered.

"Can't, sir, two more vehicles behind us."

Ambush.

I drew my weapon smoothly, checking the chamber. "How many?"

"Twelve visible, possibly more."

Hendrix's breathing had quickened, his hands gripping the edge of the seat. If this was an act, it was flawless.

"Stay down," I told him. "If you move, I'll assume you're part of this and shoot you myself."

He nodded jerkily, sliding down in his seat.

Through the tinted windows, I saw men approaching-tactical gear, automatic weapons, face covered, professional, this wasn't a random robbery.

Someone wanted me dead.

Silas? Niko Arzan? One of the families?

The list of people who'd benefit from my death was long and distinguished.

Konstantin's voice crackled through the intercom. "Sir, they're demanding you exit the vehicle."

"Tell them to go fuck themselves."

A burst of gunfire shattered the night-warning shots into the air. The car's armor would hold against small arms but if they had explosives or armor-piercing rounds, we were trapped.

Another burst of gunfire, this time against the car's body, the bullets sparked off the armor plating but didn't penetrate.

"Sir," Konstantin said, tension threading his voice. "They're bringing up something heavy."

Through the window, I saw two men carrying a launcher. RPG, probably.

Fuck.

"Ram through," I ordered. "Now."

"The checkpoint-"

"Ram through."

Yuri didn't hesitate. The engine roared and the car surged forward. I braced myself against the seat as we smashed into the first vehicle blocking our path. Metal screamed. glass shattered. The impact threw me forward but the seatbelt caught me.

Hendrix had been thrown against the door, blood trickled from his temple where he'd struck the window frame.

Gunfire erupted. The car's armor held but I heard the distinctive thunk of rounds hitting the bulletproof glass, spiderwebbing the rear window.

We broke through the checkpoint, but the pursuing vehicles were already moving.

"Faster," I said calmly.

Yuri pushed the car to its limits. The city blurred past as we raced through empty industrial streets, behind us, headlights followed likewolves.

I checked my phone. No signal-they were jamming communications.

Very professional.

"Who are they?" Hendrix whispered.

"If I knew that, they'd already be dead."

A bullet struck the rear window directly in front of my face-the glass held, but the spiderwed pattern spread, another few hits and it would fail.

I made a decision.

"Konstantin, next turn, stop the car."

In the mirror I saw Konstantin's eyes widen. "Sir. that's-"

"An order."

Yuri took a hard right into an alley between warehouses. The moment the car stopped, I was moving.

"Stay here," I told Hendrix. "Lock the doors after I exit, if anyone but me tries to open them, there's a gun in the compartment under your seat, use it."

His eyes met mine-shocked, confused but sharp.

I didn't wait for his response. I opened the door an stepped into the night.

HENDRIX

He was insane.

Through the spiderwebbed rear window, I watched him stand in the center of the alley, gun held loosely at his side, waiting.

He's going to die. The man I came to kill is going to die and I havn't learned anything.

The pursuing vehicles screeched to a halt at the alley's entrance. Doors opened, men poured out, weapons raised.

Erdem didn't move.

One of the men stepped forward, removing his mask. I couldn't see his face clearly from this angle but his body languge radiated authority.

"Erdem Veyra," the man called out. "You're a difficult man to corner."

"And yet here I am." Erdem's voice was calm. "Who sent you? Is this Silas finally growing a spine?"

The man laughed. "Does it matter? You've made too many enemies, Veyra. Tonight, they collect."

"Then collect."

The man raised his weapon and Erdem moved.

It happened so fast I almost missed it. Erdem's gun came up, fired twice-the lead man dropped. Simultaneously, Erdem moved behind a dumpster as the other men opened fire, the alley erupted into a chaos.

But Erdem wasn't alone.

From the rooftops, muzzle flashes appeared. Sniper fire, three of the attackers fell before they could find cover. Konstantin and Yuri exited the car's front compartment, weapons blazing with professional precision.

It was a trap. Erdem set a trap using himself as bait.

I watched, frozen, as the ambush became a massacre. In ninety seconds, it was over.

Ten bodies and Erdem standing in the center, breathing hard but uninjured. His white shirt was splattered with blood that wasn't his.

He walked back to the car and I heard the locks disengage, the door opened.

Erdem slid back into his seat, gun still in hand and looked at me with those cold smoke-colored eyes.

"You didn't use the gun," he observed.

I realized my hand was still pressed against my bleeding temple. I'd completely forgotten about the weapon he'd mentioned.

"I... I didn't think-"

"Oh yeah, you didn't."

Konstantin appeared at the window. "Sir, we should move, police will respond soon."

"Clean it," Erdem ordered. "Make it look like a gang violence, I want the bodies identified and their families visited by morning."

"Yes, sir."

The car began to move again, leaving the carnage behind. I sat in stunned silence, my mind racing.

Erdem was cleaning the blood off his hands with a handkerchief, movements precise, he'd done this many times.

He glanced at me, something unreadable in his expression. "You're wondering if the devil you know might be worse than the devils you've escaped."

I didn't answer.

"Good," he said. "Fear keeps you sharp and you'll need to stay very, very sharp in my house, Hendrix."

The way he said my name made it sound like a threat and promise.

I pressed my thumb against the small cut on my palm, the pain grounding me.

I can do this. I have to do this.

"Welcome home, Hendrix," Erdem said softly.

And I realized with cold certainty that leaving this place alive would be significantly harder than entering it.