No Tomorrow by Tom Wood

together, yes?”
    â€œWe’ll be best of friends in no time.”
    The warehouse’s office annex had its own entrance—a glass door set perpendicular to the steel gate. A reception area stood on the other side, with a long, fixed countertopped with glass. The carpet had once been blue but was now stained with dirt and oil. The polystyrene ceiling tiles were stained yellow with nicotine from the days when smoking was allowed in the workplace. Downstairs, the interior office walls were wallpaper-covered aluminum, fronted by plate glass and glass doors. Some had lowered strip blinds. Most offices were kitted out with desks and chairs and filing cabinets—all cheap furnishings that had been well used in their time. There were a number of old computers, printers, and other obsolete and worthless pieces of electronic equipment, and a telephone landline in every room, discolored from age and use. The ground-floor offices had been left untouched, but Dmitri and Yigor had occupied the first floor. The offices there were similar to those below, except much larger and therefore less numerous.
    There was also a boardroom and kitchen. Norimov’s men had claimed an office each to serve as a bedroom, complete with folding cot, sleeping bag, and other small luxuries. What had once been a boardroom now served as a communal area for Dmitri and Yigor. One half of the large oval table was covered in soiled pizza boxes, greasy take-out containers, empty cigarette packs, crushed cans, and warped bottles of soft drinks.
    â€œYou can have that one,” Yigor said, pointing to an empty room. “No need to pay for hotel. Save your money. I will get you a bed. Norimov pays for everything. Then you have more of the cash to spend on the women. This town is full of it. Buy them fancy cocktail that tastes of kids’ sweets; they like you lots. Good deal, yes? Norimov pay you plenty of the money, yes?”
    Victor shook his head. “There is no payment. This is not a job.”
    Yigor pulled a face. “Then you crazy. This war is going to be danger everywhere. Norimov’s enemies going to kill everyone he knows. They kill you too, if they can. You should ask for lots of money. So, you want a bed?”
    Victor said, “I’ll pass.”
    â€œSuit self. Waste all your money on that hotel.”
    Two hotels,
Victor thought.
    They kept their outside jackets on inside the warehouse because there was no heating. There was electricity, so there were at least lights. Most of the bulbs and fluorescent tubes were missing or burned out, however, leaving many offices unlit and large areas of the warehouse floor in darkness. One corner had a collection of crates, pallets, and chains that served as makeshift weights for the two Russians to work out with.
    Yigor said, “What do we do first, Mr. Bad Man?”
    â€œTake me to where she works.”

Chapter 16
    N orimov hadn’t spoken to his daughter in years, but he kept track of her life as much as he was able. She went by her mother’s maiden name: Maynard. Gisele was twenty-two years old and had studied law in London and was a couple of months into her yearlong pupilage at a law firm prior to qualifying as a barrister. The firm was located in the heart of the city’s financial district. Dmitri drove. Victor opted to sit in the backseat because he didn’t want to be surrounded by giants. The drive was short and Yigor told jokes for the entire journey. He was the only one who laughed at them.
    â€œI’ve already tried here,” Dmitri said as he found a spot to pull in to.
    â€œThat’s good,” Victor replied. “When?”
    Dmitri shrugged as he applied the emergency brake. “Soon as I arrived in London.”
    â€œA lot can change in a week. Wait for me.”
    â€œSure.” He relaxed in the seat and set the back of his head onto the rest. “I