It’s been more than a week since the dinner party and there has been no word from the Babai. They’re picking off the Ivanov trash one by one, which isn’t nothing.
But Petyr is still a ghost.
I’m halfway home when my phone rings. I accept the call on the car speaker when I see Konstantin’s name on the display.
“Did you just leave the office?” he asks.
“I’ve had enough for one day. Everyone is pissing me off.”
“I figured as much. No other reason you’d leave Orion before five o’clock.”
“If you suspected, then why are you calling me?”
“Just an update. We have four more Ivanov bodies,” he informs me. “One was in pretty bad shape. The i***t must have put up a fight.”
“Nope. Maybe this is part of the Babai’s process?”
“Or maybe they’re not all they’re cracked up to be,” I say through gri
