The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(82)

Apparently, the Bratva wasn’t just news in New York, but all over the country. Susan was panicking, thinking that Lauren was in trouble, and while Ross too was upset, he was more concerned with how Mishca’s case was looking. He might not have liked Mishca for what he was, but he respected him well enough.

Mishca’s arrest, as well as half of the Volkov Bratva, was the biggest news on television. It had been on a loop for most of the day, broadcasting on every media outlet there was. By this time, Lauren couldn’t stand to hear what every reporter in the city was saying about Mishca and the ‘secret life he led.’

She knew there were some things that she didn’t know about the Bratva life, and knew that it dealt with illegal activities, but the way the media was trying to portray him made her cringe.

Lauren hadn’t understood why Alex demanded that she wear sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, at least not until they were outside the courthouse. The press was everywhere. Not that Alex hadn’t tried to explain on their way there, speaking on the fact that this was one of the biggest Bratva busts in the last decade.

According to her, the FBI had never tried to touch the Volkovs because like most problems they faced, their obstacles just disappeared. She might not have been paying much attention, but when Lauren heard this, she immediately thought of Ivan and how he was killed in prison, and how his statement had been lost.

No, she didn’t doubt that they took care of their problems.

As soon as they stepped out of the car, reporters were on them, snapping pictures, firing off rapid questions as though they could provide any answers. Following Alex’s lead, Lauren kept her head down and her mouth shut as she hurried up the steps, tuning everything out.

Walking into a courthouse for a marriage license was far different from attending it for an arraignment. Then, she hardly noticed her surroundings. Now. it felt sterile. Once the doors closed off the yelling reporters, Lauren took a deep breath, balling her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Now more than ever, she felt the weight of her wedding ring.

The actual room in which the arraignment would take place was modestly filled with people, a handful on either side of the room.

Lauren and Alex sat behind the defense’s table, greeting Jessica as she prepared the documents at her table. When she was ready, she waved Lauren over, telling her what to expect for the hearing.

A door to the side opened, a guard escorting Mishca out, his hands shackled in front of him. For someone facing RICO charges, he looked oddly calm, and Lauren couldn’t help but wonder if he knew something she didn’t about what was going on. His eyes scanned over the crowd, stopping on her as his mouth dipped into a frown.

But to her surprise, Mishca wasn’t the only one brought in. Luka strolled in next, ever cheerful, speaking candidly with the guard that was escorting him. He looked more than happy to abandon Luka at the table.

“I guess they’re getting tried together,” Alex whispered, looking just as confused as Lauren felt.

Mikhail was next with his own attorney, sitting at the other end of the table. If he was worried about the impending trial, it didn’t show on his face.

A few more came in, most Lauren had never met, though there were a few Lauren thought she’d seen in the past.

Once they were all settled, though there wasn’t much to do about the noise level since everyone was talking all at once, trying to get advice from the numerous attorneys in the room.

“All rise!” The bailiff announced in a booming voice. “The honorable Judge Larry Dobson presiding.”

Another door opened, a man in black robes entering. He was average height, with snowy white hair and a thick mustache. His mouth looked like it was permanently set in a frown, and when he claimed his seat—everyone else doing the same when he waved his hand—he spoke with an authority of a man with years of experience.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s not waste my time. How do the defendants plea?”

Choruses of answers rang out as the men rushed to answer, not waiting for their attorneys to speak for them. Mishca was drumming his fingers on the table, looking annoyed as he leaned over to whisper in Jessica’s ear.

Banging his gavel a few times, Judge Dobson called order, silencing the rallying call.

Jessica cleared her throat. “I believe it is a collective ‘not guilty,’ your honor.”

“So noted.” He turned to the State’s Attorney. “And the state on bail?”

“Remand, your honor,” said the man in a crisp pin-striped suit. “The defendants have been charged under the RICO act—and two of them are high-ranking members of the Russian criminal organization: Vory v Zakone. They have unlimited resources, and should be considered a flight risk.”

“Your honor, neither of my clients have ever been convicted of any crime. Mishca Volkov owns multiple clubs in the Manhattan area, has donated to dozens of local charities, and was recently married. Luka Sergeyev works as Mr. Volkov’s wife personal security. Unless the Attorney General would like to indict Mrs. Volkov, I highly doubt he could commit any crime while tailing her.”

“Your honor!” He didn’t have to yell ‘objection’ it was clear in his voice.

“Save your antics for the trial, Miss. Turney. Bail is set at five-hundred-thousand each, cash or bond. Anything else?”

Jessica dug through her briefcase, pulling out another set of documents. “At this time, I would like to submit a motion to sever.”