26. Anton
CHAPTER 26
ANTON
DAY 5 – MORNING – THE RECKONING
T he sun was barely rising when the team gathered around the table, a sense of urgency hanging in the air, even over the steam of fresh coffee. Marcie sat beside me as we reviewed the plan we’d finalised yesterday. We weren’t wasting any time—Elizabeth Traynor and her associates would face the consequences of their actions today.
The mood was grim. The Bratva in the UK, led by the Rominov family, had always held a policy of never harming a woman. When an enemy was female, alternative methods had always been used—coercion, bribery, or relying on the local authorities. But this time, those tactics wouldn’t work. Traynor had some of the local police in her pocket, and even if we tried to go to Interpol, like we had with the MP, exposing her would also reveal our involvement in his downfall. That would lead to one question: why? And ultimately expose the Rominov family as Bratva—a secret we’d gone to great lengths to protect.
So, with heavy hearts, we’d agreed on the bitter truth: Elizabeth Traynor would go down with her men today, and these hunts would be ended for good.
Vlad and Trigger were already preparing to go after one of Traynor’s men. They’d turn the hunter into the hunted, capture one and bring him here where we planned on extracting as much information from him as possible, before using him to lure Traynor and the remaining hunters into a trap.
I turned to Marko, who was quietly reviewing a map of the area on his tablet. “Once we have the information, we’ll need to move quickly. We can’t afford to waste time.”
He looked up at me with a sharp, calculating gaze. “You’ll have what you need. Once we finalise the details, it won’t take long to get everything set up.”
I glanced at Marcie, who was quiet, her eyes focused. She was ready for what was coming, despite the fear still lingering beneath her calm exterior. I reached for her hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. “We end this today,” I murmured.
By the time Vlad and Trigger returned, dragging the hunter between them, we had already finalised the rest of our plan. The interrogation went as expected—the man being cowardly and compliant with no weapons or backup to provide false bravado. It didn’t take long for him to spill the information we needed. Remaining hunters, numbers, the layout of the hacienda—everything.
As I stared at the map, my finger traced the route to the old stables. “This is where we set the trap,” I said, my voice low, decisive. “The terrain is familiar to us. There’s no use looking for anywhere else when we know the area around there works well enough for what we need to do. We’ll use it to our advantage. As discussed, Trigger, you’re coming with me, Miki, Ash, and Marcie. The rest of you—Vlad, Romi, Marko—head to the hacienda. We deal with it in a two-pronged attack.”
Glancing at Marko, I spoke directly to him, knowing he’d want to gather any remaining evidence before we burned the place to the ground. As the IT expert and the one who’d been responsible for collecting intel on previous hunters, this was his chance to get what we needed. “Marko, get in, clean house, grab anything useful, then burn it all. Make the hacienda look like an accident,” I instructed, taking command of the mission with the same ease I had back in the SAS.
He nodded affirmative. I could feel Marcie’s gaze on me, but I didn’t break my focus. There was no room to allow my worry for her in. She needed to do this as much as the rest of us. I would just have to ensure that she survived. No matter what it took. Nothing mattered except that.
I ached to pull her close, to remind her of how much she meant to me before we faced danger once again. But with the clock ticking, there was no time to linger. We had to finish what we’d started.
Ash, Miki, you’ll be positioned outside the stables. Marcie will come inside with me. We’ll act as bait. When the hunters close in, you two stay hidden, let them think we’re cornered. Then we spring our trap and finish them.”
“Trigger, you’ll be the sniper, picking off anyone who tries to run. We can’t afford any escape.”
He nodded sharply, his lips pressed into a thin line. Trigger was a man of few words at a time like this, but he understood the gravity of the situation. We all did.
We finished ironing out the rest of the finer details throughout the morning and then grabbed some lunch before setting off to our respective locations.
Once we reached the stables, I called Marko and we set our plan in motion.
The hunter was forced to radio in, telling his boss, Traynor, that he knew where we were hiding: the stables.
“She’s coming,” Marko said over the phone from his post near to the hacienda, his voice low as he listened in on their radio frequency. “And she’s bringing her men.”
I turned to the others. “Get into position. We’ll take them out one by one as they approach, just like we said. It while take a will for them to get here from the hacienda, but if there are any nearby, they’ll be here sooner. Stay sharp.”
The hours dragged as I sat with my arm around Marcie in the hayloft, the air thick with the scent of hay and anticipation. Traps were set inside and out, every piece in place, ready to catch the hunters. Now we just had to lure them in.
My phone buzzed, the vibration sharp against the quiet.
“There are a couple of hunters, amateurs by the looks of things, headed your way. We’ll take them out before they get to you, but be ready just in case. Who knows how soon the rest will get here,” Miki said.
“Roger that,” I replied before hanging up.
I turned to Marcie, taking her face between my hands. “Okay, honey, it’s time. Remember the plan?”
She nodded, her breath hitching slightly as she gulped.
“Good. Stick to what we rehearsed, and it’ll be fine.” I kissed her gently—first on the forehead, then on her lips. My voice dropped to a whisper, firm but tender. “Whatever happens, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Releasing her, I climbed down the ladder, my boots landing softly on the hay-strewn floor. Marcie leaned over the edge of the loft, her wide eyes locking on mine. Blowing me a kiss, she forced a smile. I winked and returned the gesture before slipping into position behind the door, my knife in hand. The memory of yesterday’s ambush on Ash made me smirk.
Outside, muffled sounds broke the stillness—footsteps, low voices. Then silence. My phone buzzed again. It was a text from Miki: Two down. Another coming in from the left.
I peeked through the cracked door and spotted him, his movements slow, careful. Leave this one to me, I texted back.
The barrel of a rifle appeared first, poking cautiously through the doorway. The door creaked open wider, inch by inch, until he stepped inside. I waited, muscles coiled, until he was just past me. In one fluid motion, my arm locked around his throat, and the blade sliced clean through. He dropped instantly, a dull thud as his body hit the floor.
No hesitation. No remorse. As Ash had said, I’d been taught to kill first, ask questions later. The only reason Ash survived was because I wasn’t sure if he was friend or foe. This time, there was no doubt.
The air outside fractured with shouts and gunfire, a cacophony that signalled the hunt was escalating. Dragging the body out of the way, I pressed myself against the wall, knife ready, and waited.
The stable door burst open and two hunters stumbled inside, their faces taut with panic. One clutched a shotgun, eyes darting wildly, while the other leaned against the doorframe, breathless and rattled.
Before either could get their bearings, Marcie struck. A hay bale crashed down from above, slamming into the shotgun-wielder and driving him to his knees. His startled grunt was the only sound he managed before I was on him. The blade flashed in my hand, a clean, swift strike that left him lifeless on the ground.
The second hunter barely had time to react. His roar of rage turned into a bellow as he charged, slamming me against the stable wall with brute force. Pain shot through my ribs as his fist connected with my gut, and a second blow landed squarely on my jaw. My vision swam, but I held my ground, grappling with him for control.
In the struggle, my hand found the grip of my gun. Twisting free of his grasp, I brought the barrel up and fired. The sharp crack of the shot echoed in the confined space, and his body dropped in a lifeless heap.
Breathing hard, I scanned the stable, listening for any movement outside. Above, Marcie peered down from the loft, her face pale but resolute.
“Good work, honey,” I said, reloading my gun. “But stay put. This isn’t over yet.”
Miki shouted from outside and I went to meet him. Together, we got rid of all the bodies, not wanting to alert the psycho bitch and her men when they arrived. It took them another ten minutes before they finally appeared.
Marcie was beside me in the workshop ready for the next part of our plan, her face set in determination, but I could see the strain in her eyes. She had her own stake in this fight, but I wished she didn’t have to be here.
Anger surged through me when I looked at the woman who had caused all of our problems. Traynor stood outside one of the jeeps, directing her men to surround the stable, just as we’d suspected she would.
The guys picked off the first few hunters as they crept into the area, silent shadows against the backdrop of the old wooden structure. The sound of bodies hitting the ground was muffled by the crackling of radio static.
Everything was going according to plan, and that had me worried. As I fought with another hunter, my concern ratcheted up when I realised I could no longer see Marcie.
Where was she?
A scream rent the air, sharp and gut-wrenching, and I turned to see Marcie in the arms of a hunter, his blade pressed to her throat. My blood ran cold at the sight.
“Got the bitch, boss,” the guy said into his radio, and all noise from outside ceased.
“Everyone surrender, or Marcie’s throat gets slit. You know I’m not bluffing,” Elizabeth Traynor called, her voice sharp and commanding, dripping with malicious glee.
Shit. All sounds of gunfire ceased.
The guy I was fighting sneered as I raised my hands, signalling surrender. He scooped his gun off the ground where it had fallen and trained it on me.
Moments later, the psycho herself strode into the stable, her cold smile as venomous as her reputation. Miki and Ash followed, their hands tied behind their backs, forced to their knees by Traynor’s men. My own hands were quickly restrained.
No sign of Trigger. Good. At least one of our guys was still out there, ready to help when needed.
My gaze shot to Marcie as she whimpered, her face contorted in revulsion while the brute holding her let his free hand roam her body.
“Hey, get your filthy hands off her!” I snarled, struggling to stand.
The bastard behind me rammed the butt of his shotgun into the back of my leg, forcing it to buckle. Another thug moved in, pressing the barrel of a handgun against my head.
“Now, now, Pete, you’ll get your turn to play later. For now, it’s my turn to have fun,” Traynor said with a smirk, her tone mocking and laced with dark promise.
“Yes, boss,” the brute replied, his filthy paw finally stopping its revolting journey over Marcie.
I locked eyes with Miki, a silent message passing between us. They’d surrendered for Marcie’s sake, but the moment an opportunity presented itself, we’d turn the tables again. And that bastard holding her? He was mine.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise? And a delightful one at that,” Elizabeth sneered, her lips curling in smug satisfaction. “Not only do I get to exact revenge on Anton and Marcie, but Ash and Miki Rominov, too. Quite the unexpected bonus.”
Her men smirked and sniggered, emboldened by her gloating. She was revelling in her moment, pacing before us with the air of a predator savouring its prey.
“Oh, this is perfect,” she continued, her voice sharp and triumphant. “And I have another surprise. A special treat for you, Marcie.”
Elizabeth’s grin widened, a sadistic gleam lighting up her eyes. She was enjoying this far too much, feeding off our reactions.
“I’ve brought you an old friend. Wasn’t that kind of me?” she purred, her tone dripping with mockery.
Marcie’s eyes widened, the disgust on her face melting into stark, unfiltered fear.
I twisted my neck, following her gaze, and felt the blood in my veins turn to ice. Rupert Basingstoke stepped forward, a sickeningly eager smile stretching across his face.
Marcie’s stalker.
He had the look of a man who’d been waiting far too long for this moment, his eyes gleaming with dark intent.
What the hell? He was supposed to be in jail.
“I had to pull quite a few strings and call in several favours to make this reunion happen,” Elizabeth said, her tone dripping with smugness. “But I’ve always been resourceful. I knew how much Rupert would want to be a part of my plans for you, Marcie.”
“I do indeed,” Rupert drawled, stepping forward to yank Marcie out of the brute’s arms and into his own. His grip was possessive, sickeningly familiar, as his hand slid down her face.
“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” he cooed, his lips brushing against her ear. Marcie shuddered, disgust etched across her features as she squirmed to break free. But Rupert only tightened his hold, licking a slow, deliberate line up her neck before planting a kiss on her jaw.
Her choked gasp was drowned by Rupert’s manic laughter, a sound that clawed at my ears, quickly joined by the shrill, mocking laugh of Elizabeth Traynor.
“Rupert is going to have his fun with you, Marcie,” Elizabeth said, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “And when he’s done, my men will take their turn. It’s going to be a long, slow, painful end for you.”
“You bloody bitch! I’ll kill you for this!” I roared, my voice tight with fury, my control shattered. Every muscle in my body screamed for action, but the cold press of a gun barrel against my skull kept me frozen.
Elizabeth’s laugh was icy and sharp as a blade. “Ha! You’re in no position to make threats, Mr DuPont. Ex-special forces or not, your skills might have helped you before, taking down a few hunters at a time. But this? You’re facing the might of my entire team. You’ve lost.”
Fear and dread warred with a cold, simmering determination as I fought to keep a lid on my rising panic. I couldn’t fail Marcie. I wouldn’t fail her. Not after everything we’d endured. I hadn’t been able to save Louisa or Elaine, but this time, it was different. I’d save Marcie—or die trying.