Nash Security Solutions

by Lola Silverman

  Francesca gently touched Ava’s shoulder. “All right,” she said softly. “I’ll back off. But I’m not giving up, and Nash won’t either.”

  *

  Nash was feeling pretty good about himself, all things considered. This job was slowly driving him insane, but he had a new strategy that would hopefully help to tie things up. As for the situation with Ava, he had a new strategy for that as well.

  “So,” Quentin said expectantly.

  The open speculation in Quentin’s tone would have bugged Nash yesterday. Today he didn’t care. “So, what? I want you to take Wrath and Carson. No.” Nash scratched his chin. “Screw that. I’m going myself.”

  Quentin’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re going where?”

  “You and I are going to go talk to the Russians,” Nash decided. “It’s time to put this thing to rest for once and for all. With Anton missing”—Nash used air quotes since they happened to know that Anton was buried in Stedman’s backyard—“the Russians should be in a bit of a disorganized mess by now. Hopefully, this means that the big boss will come back from Russia.”

  “And you think it’s a good idea to walk in there holding a white flag and waving our dicks even though they’ve been shooting at us for weeks now?” Quentin looked unconvinced. Nash couldn’t blame him, really.

  “I have a feeling,” Nash explained. “It’s time to check it out and see if I’m right.”

  “Have you mentioned this plan to Ava?” Quentin cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s kind of her call. Right?”

  “Her call?” Nash struggled with the urge to let his mouth drop wide open in shock. “No! It’s not her call! Why would you even think that? This isn’t her operation.”

  “Actually, it sort of is.” Quentin pursed his lips. “The original job is done, Boss. We were fired, as I recall. So, Ava asked if you could help her uncover what was going on and make sure that her family members are safe into the bargain. Okay, fine. So, that means it’s her operation and you’re sort of just along for the ride.”

  Nash started to speak but couldn’t actually come up with a response to that bit of twisted logic. Was that how his men actually viewed this whole disaster? Did they see him as subordinate to Ava? She was certainly a forceful personality. There was no doubt about that. But the idea that he was somehow at her beck and call did not set well for the former marine turned civilian contractor.

  Pushing open the door of the surveillance truck, Nash exited and stood for a while in the brisk morning air. He liked spring in the Northeast. The temperatures were warmer, but not hot like they were in the southern portion of the country. The sky today was a brilliant blue. The fog that had rolled in few nights ago had dissipated completely, and the whole world felt fresh.

  Nash sometimes wondered what Ava’s neighbors thought about his men and their surveillance truck. They’d had several complaints about the parking, but the Boston PD was plenty aware of what they were up to. This left Nash and his men on the receiving end of a fair amount of rude stares from the busy surrounding neighborhood.

  Even now, a woman walking her dog was giving Nash the evil eye. He wondered how much worse it would be if he were to eventually settle here with Ava. She had lived in this neighborhood almost her entire life. If she had a man move in, there would no doubt be a wave of surprise from the neighbors.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Healy,” Nash called out to the old woman and the portly pug. The lady grunted and nodded but didn’t offer a greeting. Nash had known instantly that the woman didn’t have any use for men like him, though he had done nothing to earn her disapproval.

  What was he doing anyway? Imagining himself playing house with Ava and being a full-time husband? Was he insane? Nash had never been in a successful long-term relationship. Women did not do well with men who were gone for long periods of time. At least not in his experience. Those long absences seemed to lead to awkward moments like walking in on his wife fucking another man in his bed.

  Nash made a face. That was a memory he could do without.

  “What?” Quentin stepped out of the truck and took up a position by Nash’s shoulder. “You looked like you just ate something sour.”

  “I just had a bad thought, that’s all.” Nash shook it off. He really didn’t want to think about that. “Sometimes I really wonder…”

  “Wonder what?” Quentin frowned. “You’re acting really odd lately. Sometimes I really wonder too. I wonder if you’ve sort of lost your purpose in what I thought we were doing here.”

  “I think that’s a given,” Nash muttered. He rubbed a hand over his head. “I don’t care what Ava has to say about it. We’re going to head over to the Sokolov estate and see what these men have to say about their leader’s disappearance.”

  “Remember that Analise sort of established that the younger soldiers are basically being told to guard empty rooms,” Quentin reminded Nash. “This may not go over well if you barge in and cast a bunch of doubt on their leaders. Who knows how brainwashed they are.”

  Quentin was right. One of his other employees, Analise, had discovered the suite of rooms inside the estate empty with four men guarding the place. It was like Anton hadn’t ever told the younger members of the Bratva that their fearless leader had fled back to Russia to avoid any penalties for his illegal activities here in the US.

  “We’ll keep it in mind,” Nash told Quentin. “Let’s go before something else goes wrong or gets in the way.”

  Chapter Six

  Ava stared at the ruined Boston cream pie. Francesca had finally stepped into the other room to take a phone call, which gave Ava a moment to check out last night’s kitchen disaster. It wasn’t like this was the first time she had experienced a cooking fail. It was more that this fell under the heading of epic fail for no good reason. What had she been thinking?

  “That is one ugly cream pie.” Tegan came striding into the kitchen, with Kayla right on her heels.

  Of all the people that Ava did not want to see right now, her daughter and her niece were at the top of the list. It wasn’t that Ava didn’t like the young women. She just wasn’t in the mood to be happy for them right now. It was Ava’s turn to be grumpy, and she planned to take full advantage.

  Ava opened her mouth to speak and then changed her mind at the last minute about what she was going to say. What do you want and why are you here just didn’t seem appropriate no matter how irritable she felt. “What brings you two out here?” Ava said instead. Yeah. That was better.

  Tegan cocked her head and gave her mother a very pointed look. Apparently, Ava wasn’t doing such a grand job of hiding her agitation. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

  “That’s rude,” Kayla commented. “Aunt Ava, we just stopped by to see if you had any interest in stalking Stedman at the Hyde-Pierson Financial board meeting this morning.”

  “What?” Ava could not hide her interest in this particular endeavor. “I totally forgot the first Monday of the month board meeting,” Ava murmured. “We’re all stockholders.”

  “Which technically means we’re allowed to attend,” Tegan added.

  Ava gestured to the other room. “Francesca’s in there. I vote we grab her and go.”

  “Are you going dressed like that?” Tegan glanced at her mother’s attire.

  Ava looked down at her soft stretch capris and colorful blouse. There was really nothing wrong with what she was wearing. It just wasn’t her usual killer elegant outfit. “You know what,” Ava mused. “I’m totally going like this. If nothing else, it will put Stedman off guard and make him act like himself, to see a woman in there not even bothering to try and look like anything but a mom.”

  Kayla snorted. “Meaning you’re going to try and push his buttons and make him act like an ass.”

  “Precisely!” Ava said with glee. “Now. Let’s grab Francesca and get the hell out of here before we’re late!”

  *

  Nash had been standing for more than twenty minutes
in the same spot across the street from the house where the Sokolov Bratva ran their operations. Nobody seemed bothered by his presence less than thirty yards from their territory. In fact, he could see almost no activity. There were some guards meandering about, but they looked more bored than anything else. It was almost eerie.

  “Boss, there’s nothing going on here,” Quentin murmured. “If I had to bet, the old guy isn’t even in.”

  “The real question is whether or not they know that Anton is dead.” Nash sucked in a deep breath and held it. His brain was running possible scenarios at a furious pace. Finally, he went with the one that seemed on the surface to be the stupidest. At least it was the most direct.

  Quentin looked startled when Nash started off across the street. “Uh, Boss?”

  “Are you coming or not?” Nash called over his shoulder. “I figure there’s no point in standing out here any longer.”

  Quentin had to jog to keep up with Nash as he darted across the street between cars. The traffic in Boston was horrendous. There was no way that Nash would be able to tolerate this place long term. Not that he had a reason to be thinking such things. Dammit. He needed to focus on what he was doing and forget about Ava and anything else for now.

  Nash walked right up to the front gates. Even more astonishing was the fact that he put his hand on the big wrought iron monstrosity and just shoved it open. He had been here before. The gate hadn’t opened like that just a few weeks back. Obviously, something had happened to dramatically change the way things were run around here.

  Quentin was twitchy. Nash could feel it. He couldn’t put his finger on what was going on, but he felt the tension just as much as Quentin did. The two of them had been in plenty of tight spots before, but each one carried its own brand of tension, and this one was certainly odd.

  “Stop right there.”

  The thickly accented voice had come from the vicinity of the front steps, but the door was still firmly closed. Nash stopped walking and peered at the porch. From the deep shadows beneath a deep overhang, a man emerged. He was tall and muscular with a clean-shaven head. Nash recognized him from the recon they’d done on the Boston Bratva. This was Aloysha.

  “What do you want?” Aloysha demanded. “You work for Stedman? Tell him we’re not dancing to his tune anymore. Do you understand this?”

  Nash smiled coldly. “I don’t work for Stedman. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I’m here to talk to Anton.”

  Aloysha’s expression narrowed suspiciously. “Stedman lies. It is the only thing that can be counted on about him. Perhaps we need to test your truth.”

  Two more men materialized from the darkness. They were carrying automatic weapons slung over their shoulders. Nash felt that stillness he always did before the storm hit. Either they were going to have a conversation or they were going to spill some blood.

  *

  The surge of power Ava felt when she walked into that damn board meeting was pretty much worth all of the irritation and confusion of the last five weeks. Stedman had placed himself at the head of the table because that was pretty much how he did things. There were seven other board members present. It was readily apparent that Ava, Francesca, Kayla, and Tegan were not only unexpected arrivals, but that they had interrupted Stedman’s dramatic opening statement.

  Ava didn’t give a shit.

  “I’m sorry, but this is a closed meeting.” Stedman gave Ava a cold look.

  In the past, that alone would have made her cringe away. Not anymore. Ava glanced around the table at the other board members, and the first thing she noticed on most of their faces was relief. Good. So, they weren’t all mice or pawns. They were just uncertain of how to get around a man who had crowned himself king of the company.

  To Ava’s surprise, it was Francesca that took the lead. She bustled right over to an empty chair beside an elderly gentleman that Ava vaguely remembered that Francesca did charity work in some of the lower income areas of Boston with this man. Apparently, the two of them had a good rapport, because the old guy was beaming.

  Francesca took the empty seat beside the elderly man. “Hello, Jameson, it’s so good to see you!”

  “Miss Francesca, I’m certainly glad to see you come to a board meeting,” Jameson said. His shrewd gaze flicked up toward Stedman. He looked less than pleased. “We could sure use some fresh outlooks on our board.”

  There was a murmur of agreement around the table. That seemed to decide Kayla and Tegan. They took seats next to Francesca and folded their hands in front of them. There was an air of expectancy at the table that hadn’t been there only a moment before.

  Then Ava took her seat at the opposite end of the table from Stedman. She gazed at her ex-husband and made a little shooing motion with her hands. “Well? You were talking. Don’t let us interrupt your meeting. Go ahead and say your piece.”

  Stedman did not even bother to pretend to play nice. “You don’t belong here.”

  “Actually, all of us do,” Ava pointed out. “We’re board members and stock holders, and you and the rest of this group are answerable to us just like we are answerable to you for the things that we vote for this company.” Ava exhaled as she tried to hang onto her composure.

  “Fine.” Stedman’s face was nearly expressionless. “You want to play with the big boys?”

  “Oh, bring it, Stedman,” Ava snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself in so deep with the Bratva, with your shareholders, with the bank management, and with just about every other entity you think you own. I can’t wait to see how you think you’re going to dig yourself out of this one.”

  *

  There were moments in life where decisions had to be made based upon gut and not intellect. This was one of those moments. Nash made a split-second decision and hoped that it wouldn’t erupt into a firefight.

  Holding out his weapon, he squatted down and carefully laid it on the ground. “We know where Anton’s body is,” Nash told Aloysha in a voice that carried to every single man hovering around the property.

  Aloysha’s dark brows creased into a frown. “You lie.”

  “No.” Nash gave a single shake of his head. “Two of my operatives”—that was so much easier than trying to explain Ava’s and Francesca’s roles—“heard Anton and Stedman have an argument several nights ago. Last night, one of them spotted Stedman burying Anton’s body in the backyard of his estate in Brookline.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Aloysha burst into laughter. The two men standing on either side of him glanced at each other as though they weren’t sure they could join in. Seconds later, they were laughing too. Nash waited. When Aloysha saw that Nash did not appear to find any of this amusing, he gradually stopped laughing.

  “You are serious?” Aloysha’s thick Russian accent made his words almost indistinguishable. “You say Anton is buried in some backyard in Brookline?”

  “Right beside the pergola,” Nash added.

  Aloysha said something Nash could not understand in Russian. Then he inhaled and let a breath out slow. “This is bad. Very bad.”

  One of the other men muttered to Aloysha. Nash wondered just how subordinate these other men were to Aloysha. There was something about the way they stood that suggested their position within the Bratva might be equal. It would not have surprised Nash to find that it was true. Anton had been the second-in-command. The old man Sokolov was in charge. The Russians were suspicious by nature, and their organization was set up to work with that in mind. There were designated spies within the Bratva that reported back to the leaders. If these other two men held that sort of position, then it was possible that all three of them had been trying to figure out what happened to their bosses.

  “About a year ago,” Aloysha began. “My Pekhan—Sokolov—he tells us that he has found a man, an American, who will join the Bratva and make us untouchable. This man could take money right out from under the noses of our enemies.”

  “Stedman,” Nash guessed. It didn’t take a rocket s
cientist to guess that the banker was well placed to steal directly from the account holders.

  Aloysha gave a careless shrug. “At first, we think it’s fine. The banker was good with money. He was good with business. He had an office at my club—you know it, I think?”

  “The White Russian.” Nash did not add that Ava’s daughter and niece had been the ones to seduce and then drug Aloysha in order to search his office for information. “My associates found a book there that belonged to Stedman.”

  Aloysha’s lip curled. “Ah, yes, the ladies.” Then the Russian laughed and held up his hands. “I fell prey to pretty women just like many men over the centuries have.”

  “What about the book?” Nash pressed. Ever since Tegan and Kayla had come to him with the story of the book, Nash had wondered how it fit in. Ava’s reason had never held up in his mind. Now he had a feeling he was right.

  “The book was part of a cypher. Stedman had given the book to Anton so that he could keep track of the wire transfers. After a few months went by, Stedman was tired of having Anton looking over his shoulder.” Aloysha’s expression was grim. “If Stedman killed Anton, I would bet good money that’s why.”

  “Then you believe me?” Nash demanded.

  Aloysha cocked his head to one side. One of the other men whispered something in his ear. Finally, he answered Nash. “I will believe you once we’ve gone digging in Brookline.”

  Well, that was certainly one way to get the job done. Perhaps this was the best option after all. Boston PD wasn’t going to dig in the yard without a warrant. And you didn’t get a warrant because you smelled something bad.

  “Jason Nash,” Aloysha called out. “You need to talk to Sergei Yurevich of the New York Bratva. He’ll have something to say that you want to know.”

  “Thanks.” It was time to go. Nash had his head, some information, and Quentin hadn’t had to kill anyone. They were doing better than anticipated, but it wasn’t a good idea to press their luck.