Chapter 23

Nights in Brighton Beach always carried the briny scent of sea breeze, mixed with the grease of fish and chips and the sharp tang of cheap vodka. It was known as "Little Odessa," streets lined with signs in the Cyrillic alphabet, the air drifting with a distinctly Eastern European melancholy.

But tonight, that melancholy was shredded by the roar of violent engines.

"Czar Caviar" was situat