Sons of Anarchy: Bratva

Sons of Anarchy: Bratva

Christopher Golden

Language: English

Pages: 256

ISBN: 1250060834

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Set between the third and fourth episodes of season four of the groundbreaking television drama Sons of Anarchy, from the mind of Executive Producer Kurt Sutter…

With half of the club recently released from Stockton State Penitentiary, and the Galindo drug cartel bringing down heat at every turn, the MC already has its hands full. Yet Jax Teller the V.P. of SAMCRO has another problem to deal with. He just learned that his Irish half-sister Trinity has been in the U.S. for months entangled with Russian BRATVA gangsters. Now that she's abruptly gone missing, he's sure the brewing mafia war is connected to her disappearance. Jax heads to Nevada with Chibs and Opie to search for her and seek revenge. Trinity may be half-Irish, but she's also half-Teller and where Teller's go, trouble follows.

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of the office. “I see it on your faces.” Oleg nodded grimly. “We hit three or four of them. There were two I don’t think will be getting up again. One was Vasily. I didn’t see the face of the other.” “Krupin?” Timur asked. “He was hit in the shoulder. Probably not a killing wound,” Gavril replied. Kirill frowned, studying them. Trinity noticed that they all seemed to be holding their breath. “There is something you’re not saying,” Kirill observed. Oleg and Gavril exchanged a glance, and

the music now that it’s here.” “I didn’t, though … I would never…” Opie held Luka’s gun. He raised it, aimed at Joyce’s head. “Someone told them we were headed to Drinkwater’s house.” “That could’ve been any of the guys! Thor, Hopper, even Rollie. Shit, man, Baghead is a basket case!” Jax shook his head. “Only it wasn’t any of them. I should’ve known it back at Birdland. You were so clued in about the Russians, where and when they’d be there. Started trouble with ’em because you figured you

her as if she were someone he only vaguely knew and did not like very much. “Trinity,” Oleg said. She punched him in the chest. Did it a second time. Oleg reached for her wrist, but she dropped her arm away. He blinked. “You knew we had business with SAMCRO—” “And I didn’t want it to be our business. I’m a Belfast girl. I’ve never been to California. Jax and me, we share a father. Wasn’t too long ago we’d never laid eyes on each other. I didn’t want you and me to be about SAMCRO any more

recessed doorway of a guest room and so laser-focused on the space where they expected to see Chibs firing at them that it was a couple of seconds before one of them noticed her. Trinity didn’t try to aim. She lifted the gun and fired its last two bullets, then ducked back into the room and threw herself onto the floor. Bullets tore up the open doorway, splintered wood and drywall flying. More gunfire, but echoing now from the next room as much as it was out in the corridor. She heard a cry of

the throat. Trinity had loved dear Caitlin. They’d been at school together as girls and spent plenty of nights together at the pub, as well as mornings on a run in the park. Once they’d even been in jail together, and the less said about that, the better. Trinity had been unable to cry at Caitlin’s funeral, rage obliterating her grief, desperate to get her fingers around the handle of a knife and give Tim Kelley what he had coming. Less than a month later, the bastard was done for, but it hadn’t

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