In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Upcoming

  In the Beginning

  London Miller

  Copyright © 2013 London Miller

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1492708542

  ISBN-13: 978-1492708544

  For H.

  You believed in this when no one else would.

  Foreword

  The Volkov Bratva:

  1. Forsake his relatives—mother, father, brothers, sisters…

  Allow no family to come between your obligations to the Volkov Bratva.

  2. Not have a family of his own—no wife, no children*

  Have no family to be used as a weakness.

  3. Never, under any circumstances work, no matter how much difficulty this brings*

  Live only by means that are permitted by the Volkov Bratva.

  4. Help other thieves—both by moral and material support, utilizing the commune of thieves

  Hold the Bratva sacred; they are your only family.

  5. Keep secret information about the whereabouts of accomplices

  Never betray the confidence of a fellow Vor.

  6. In unavoidable situations, take the blame for someone else, buying the other person time for freedom

  Provide an alibi for a fellow Vor.

  7. Demand a convocation of inquiry for the purpose of resolving disputes in the event of a confrontation between thieves

  If problems arise with a fellow Vor, bring the case to the Counsel.

  8. If necessary, participate in such inquiries

  Provide evidence to support your claim against a fellow Vor.

  9. Carry out the punishment of the offending thief as decided by the convocation

  Once the convocation has reached a decision, mete out justice.

  10. Not resist carrying out the decision of punishing the offending thief who is found guilty, with punishment determined by convocation

  Never hesitate to mete out punishment after a decision is made.

  11. Have good command of the thieves’ jargon (Fehnay)

  Talk the talk.

  12. Do Not gamble without being able to cover losses

  Do not bet more than you can afford to lose.

  13. Teach the trade to young beginners

  Pass along knowledge to up and coming Vor.

  14. Have, if possible, informants from the rank and file of thieves

  Even men in the lowest ranks can serve a purpose.

  15. Not lose your reasoning ability when using alcohol

  Do not allow your choice of poison to skew judgment.

  16. Have nothing to do with the authorities

  Never help police.

  17. Not take weapons from the hands of authorities; not serve in the military

  To serve in the military is to be considered a suka.

  18. Make good on promises given to other thieves

  Be a man of honor among thieves

  *At a meeting between high ranking officials in the Vory v Zakone, these rules were redacted.

  Prologue

  6:30 p.m. November 15, 1997

  Michigan

  Home of Dr. Cameron Thompson

  Dr. Cameron sat in the comfortable chair behind his desk—a gift from his wife for their third wedding anniversary—staring at the ceiling as he tried to quell the sense of foreboding in his heart.

  Crayon drawings, both taped and framed, hung along the walls, bookcases, and even his desk. Even those pictures, ones that normally filled him with such joy and peace, could not take his mind from his worries.

  Several weeks ago, he had mistakenly learned something that was never meant to be revealed, a secret that he stumbled across in the course of his work… a secret that would be fatal for someone like him. No one could have predicted this turn of events, especially when it was a freak accident, but despite constant reassurances, he and his employer did not see eye to eye on the matter.

  Dr. Cameron knew that no matter how many promises were made, no matter how many times he swore to keep his mouth closed, he was a dead man. As a medical man, it was odd for him, knowing that at any moment, he would die. There was hope, of course, but not in this world. When he agreed to help the businessmen involved in the seedy side of the underworld, he knew that loyalty was important to men like these, especially when it dealt with their personal lives.

  But if he had learned anything from his time in their employment, it was that information was power, so as a last act of preservation, should anything happen to him, he kept his own secrets, knowing that one day, this information would solve a crime that would be forgotten over time.

  A crime, he thought with a bitter laugh. It was never easy planning the events after your own death.

  Sighing, he rubbed his tired eyes, wishing that the grueling tension would ebb, if only for a moment. Dr. Cameron had been living like a man with one foot in the grave, but none of his coworkers, nor his wife, had noticed his strange behavior.

  He was glad for that, knowing that if they had, they would ask too many questions, questions that he would be unable to answer without putting them all in danger.

  If his wife had noticed, she would have realized that he had set up a college fund for Lauren, enough for her to attend any school in the country. He had even made sure his insurance was up to date, knowing that once he was gone, Susan would need it.

  He fingered the gold band on his left hand, feeling the engraved words along the underside of it.

  Until the end…

  They were the same words that were inscribed on hers as well, the same words they had spoken on their wedding day. If he had any regrets, it was that he failed to keep his promise to her.

  He stewed in silence, wishing—

  “Daddy! Hide and seek!”

  Dr. Cameron blinked, smiling at his five-year-old daughter, Lauren, as she stood in the entryway, clutching a white and pink blanket in her tiny fist. She was tiny for her age, barely reaching his waist, but what she lacked in size, she made up for in energy.

  Between his hours at the hospital—and time spent worrying about his fate—he hadn’t seen much of Lauren and that brought another sharp lance of pain to his chest. To never see her beaming smile, to never read her another bedtime story, she was what he would miss the most.

  He had only just arrived home twenty minutes ago after a two day run at the hospital where he worked as the lead surgeon. Susan had run out the door to grab a late dinner, accustomed to his hectic schedule. Lauren had been occupied in front of the television, singing along to Blue’s Clues in her adorable high pitched voice.

&nbs
p; Dr. Cameron was tired, exhausted really, but he could never deny her anything, especially when time was running out. “One game,” he told her sternly but with affection, knowing that if she asked for ‘just one more’ as she always did, he would cave. “It’ll be your bedtime soon.”

  With a quick peck on her cheek, he sent her off with a gentle push, making a show of covering his eyes and counting loudly. She scampered off, her giggles echoing through the empty house. He had no worries of finding her as she made a habit of always hiding in the closet near the front door, burying herself beneath their winter coats.

  When the sound of her running feet tapered off, Dr. Cameron stopped counting, stomping his feet loud enough for her to hear as he glanced around the corner. Sure enough, the door was cracked and he could almost hear her smothered laughter.

  “Now where oh where did my little Lauren go?” He called out, walking around the living room scratching his head. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Lauren’s brown hair for just a second before she scurried back out of sight, making him smile.

  Just as he circled around, intending to sneak up on her, the doorbell rang twice in quick succession, halting him in his steps.

  Dr. Cameron frowned, a number of possibilities of who might be on the other side running through his mind, making his heart race, but he quickly banished the thoughts.

  I kept my word.

  They might have been criminals, but the men he worked for were quite blunt with how they would handle anyone that crossed them. He had to believe, for the sake of his family that they would keep their word as well.

  Though he hadn’t been expecting any company, Susan might have invited someone over and forgotten to mention it. She was a local seamstress, and often did a lot of work for women looking to get their bridal gowns taken in or hemmed. More often than not, they came at all hours of the night, panicking when they thought they might walk down the aisle less than perfect.

  Dr. Cameron took one glance at the closet door, then pushed the curtains shielding the front porch to the side, gazing out the window to see who stood there.

  Two young men—probably in their mid to late twenties—one with a gleaming bald head, the other with a tiger head tattooed across his jugular, the skin still puffy and red from the new ink.

  They looked harmless enough, distinctly lacking the distinctive marks he had grown familiar with that might have sent Dr. Cameron into a panic. Yet anyone showing up at nearly seven in the middle of the night that he didn’t know was suspicious.

  He was tempted not to answer, pretend he wasn’t home and hope that they would leave in peace, but their gazes had already snapped to him, looking at him with a cold…was that determination? He knew then, without a doubt, that he was about to die. If he ran now, no one would be safe, not his wife, not his daughter, not even his coworkers. They never left any loose ends, it was their way.

  Tiptoeing back over to the closet, Dr. Cameron peered down at his daughter. “Stay quiet, Lauren,” he said in a hushed whisper. “No matter what you hear…no matter what happens, don’t make a noise, okay?”

  At her hesitant nod, he gave her a small smile. “Daddy loves you honey.”

  “Love you too, Daddy.”

  The words nearly brought tears to his eyes as he stared at her, committing her face to memory. If he were to die, there was a chance that he would lose all his memories of his time on earth, but he hoped that even in the afterlife, he would remember his daughter.

  With a heavy heart, he took a step back, pushing the closet door up to expel the crack, just leaving a sliver open that it wasn’t completely dark in there, knowing Lauren would be afraid. He quickly blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall, not wanting to show any weakness.

  He swallowed, clearing his throat, finally greeting his visitors with a tight smile.

  “How can I help you gentlemen?” He asked with a calmness he didn’t feel.

  “You’re wanted by the Boss,” the bald one said, his voice laced strongly with an Eastern European accent.

  Dr. Cameron stepped to the side, allowing them entry, angling his body in front of the closet. Thankfully, he was a man of above average height and build and was able to shield most of the door.

  “I didn’t know I needed escorts,” he said ruefully, keeping the men’s attention on him.

  Sure, it was not unusual for the Boss to call on Dr. Cameron. His job was to be available at any time, ready to fly out to New York at the drop of a hat.

  “You’re here alone?” The other asked, his eyes skirting the interior with a calculating gleam. He stopped on the television where cartoons were still playing then to the number of toys that were littered on the floor in front of it.

  “Yes,” he said quickly thinking on the spot, “my wife went out to grab dinner. She’s picking up our daughter from the sitter’s.”

  That answer seemed to placate the man. If Dr. Cameron was not thankful for anything else, he was thankful that the men here were dumb enough not to check.

  There was not enough time for him to take another breath before he was staring at the barrel of a gleaming silver handgun, a silencer firmly attached to the end of it.

  The one with the tiger tattoo smiled coldly, lowering the gun until it pointed at his chest.

  Dr. Cameron heard steps at the front door, a man entering the house, taking his bowler hat off and holding it in front of him. His eyes widened in recognition. He had assumed before, but now he had confirmation as to why he was about to die.

  With a sinister smile, the man said, “Suzhenogo konyom ne Ob’edyesh.”

  The enforcer pulled the trigger.

  As the first bullet slammed into Dr. Cameron, he stumbled backwards from the momentum of the bullet, clutching at his chest, blood seeping between his splayed fingers. Searing pain flared to life, the unimaginable agony taking his breath away.

  When the second bullet hit, he fell against the closet door, slamming it shut with a resounding click, but despite that sound echoing in his ears, he thought he heard Lauren’s soft gasp.

  Blood quickly began filling his lungs. He coughed it up, blood spraying past his lips as he tried uselessly to free his airway, even as his organs started shutting down.

  With an unwavering stare, he faced the man in charge that loomed over him, but his vision was growing hazy, his breaths shallow.

  Dr. Cameron didn’t beg. He didn’t ask for these men to spare his life because he wanted them to finish it, knowing that they would leave quickly once he was dead. He closed his eyes as the enforcer once again aimed the gun at his chest. He pictured his wife and daughter, smiling at him, remembering their love.

  His last coherent thought before the third bullet lodged itself in his heart was:

  At least they didn’t find Lauren.

  Chapter one:

  Welcome to New York

  15 years later…

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay on campus?” Susan asked for the hundredth time since they had gotten on the interstate leaving Michigan.

  They had just passed the Welcome to New York sign and Lauren Thompson was secretly glad. Not just because she was eager to get out of the car after their nine hour long drive, but because her mom was more worried about this move than Lauren was.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind,” she went on. “I’m sure there are still some dorms left.”

  If there were, Lauren didn’t want to stay in them. She had read many a horror story about living in the suite style dorms at the universities in New York, so she didn’t want to chance the idea of paying a butt load of out of state tuition and fees, all to have a terrible roommate.

  “It’s fine, mom. Plus, if there were something wrong with Amber, I’m sure Ross would have found it when he did the background check on her.”

  Lauren smiled as Detective Thomas Ross stiffened in the front passenger seat, shrugging guiltily as all eyes turned to him.

  Ross was a Michigan police detective, working the jo
b since before Lauren was born. He was of average height, and normally wore a stern frown when he was working on a case, but he had kind brown eyes with the standard army haircut that he refused to change long after he was out of the service.

  She wasn’t upset that he ran the background check, she wasn’t even upset that her mom was freaking out about her moving hundreds of miles away to attend the University of New York after being accepted after a year at Michigan State.

  For the last decade and a half, it had just been the three of them, a pseudo family brought together after the tragic death of her father. Ross had been one of the first responders, and from what they told her, he had been the one to find her.

  Since then, Ross had made a point of staying around in her life. At first, he would only stop by if there was a lead on the case, but he soon started dropping by just to make sure that Lauren was coping well. Soon, he was there every other day, maybe for dinner—he lived alone and his only sister lived two hours away—or if Susan invited him over. Sometimes, Lauren thought that there might be something more to their relationship, but Susan swore up and down that it was strictly platonic.

  He had been reluctant to come on the trip with them, always trying not to overstep any boundaries, but it took no time at all to force him into their van when Lauren guilted him by saying who would see her off and who would check the locks to make sure that no one could break in.

  “She has a point, Susan,” Ross interjected. “She knows what to look out for with strangers.”

  “I learned from the best,” she added, giving him a hi-five.

  Susan glared at him as they stopped at a red light, a sea of yellow taxis swarming around them. “Whose side are you on?”