6. Vanya
6
VANYA
M y first round takes the man about to stomp Ciro’s head in right through the throat.
Letting go of the tightly twisted arm of the screaming man I just disarmed, I kick him down; he clutches his broken wrist. A swift tap to the jaw leaves him sprawled in a pile of soggy boxes.
Spin, flick of my wrist, two daggers in two arms, guns clatter to the ground.
Dive to avoid a spray of bullets, roll and come up on my knees sliding, blasting through wooden crates and showering the walls with these fuckers’ blood. They scatter like spiders, dragging away their wounded.
Organized.
Efficient.
Just no match for me.
“Do we pursue?” Matvey pokes his head up from his cover. Smart boy. He knows when I arrive to stay out of my way.
“ Net . We make sure Grigory Andreev is safe. Find out who they were, why they were here. I will call in scouts to track them.”
Offering a hand to Ciro, I pull him to his feet, sniffing at his filthy clothes. The look he gives me makes my stomach do a flip, so I scowl, leaving him to watch me walk back inside.
“Explain,” I order to my brother as he falls in beside me.
“The short version is that we discovered some illegal drugs being stacked out of Andreev’s fish crates. I think those guys are the same ones from the photos, or at least affiliated with them.”
“So Grigory is smuggling a little on the side?”
“I don’t think so. He was pretty shaken up. Looked terrified. Not to mention they clearly did not like us walking in on them.”
“Hm. I do not like it. We’ve gotten more reports of foreigners at several other ports conducting business without local consent. Let’s see what our fishmonger has to say.”
Just as I speak the words, I spot him to my left, hiding.
“Talk, Andreev! What the fuck is going on?” I snatch the back of his coat as he sneaks out, trying to make for the side door.
“I-it is not what it looks like, Miss Sokolov! They threatened me…”
“Were those threats made in cash? I checked your safe. Looks pretty full to me.”
“I did not want to take it. These men…they are killers. They showed me pictures of my granddaughters.”
“I do not care what they said or showed you, Grigory. This does not look good for you. Even under threat, you know what to do; you should have contacted the Volk. For fuck’s sake, you have my number.”
“I panicked.”
“Coward. We cannot protect you if you are not forthcoming.”
Mr. Andreev drops his head, nodding.
I hate being the stone-cold bitch, but people behave foolishly. They do not learn and must be taught hard lessons.
The same lessons I learned early on, clawing my way to my position.
“P-please put in good word with Pyotr, I cannot lose my business…”
“Don’t piss yourself. Relax. I believe you did not have choice. But I will follow up on this, and you better not be lying, Grigory.”
Letting go of his coat I wave a hand of dismissal.
What to do next…
Out front, some of my guys shove through the door, my lieutenant barking an order to let me know they have secured the perimeter. I love how efficient they are.
“Mikael, search every crate. Looks like drug smuggling. We need to know who these bastards are and what they are doing on our turf.”
“ Da, Kapitan. ” He salutes.
I step out of the fishy confines of the warehouse, taking a breath. The fight was exhilarating, but not enough. Pent up energy courses through my veins, making me twitchy.
“I am going to report back to the compound, directly to Pyotr. He will want to know about this,” I announce to my crew, leaving them to their work. Pausing in the doorway, I catch a glimpse of my next targets slinking along in the dark alleyway outside.
“Trying to sneak off, you little brat?”
“Just getting clear of the mess, letting your team do their work,” Matvey smiles at me, only glancing at Ciro once. But it’s the twitch of his nose to the left that gives him away.
“Where were you really headed so quickly? And what the fuck were you thinking engaging with a hostile force without backup?” Now I am starting to get heated, emotion trying to take the lead. He’s still my brother after all, and he almost just got shot.
“ Uspokoysya ! Calm down. We were just defending ourselves, right Ciro?”
“They definitely shot first.”
“They would not have shot if you did not get spotted, ah?”
“Semantics! They would have gotten away with the drugs and disappeared if we didn’t go back there and stop them.”
“Stop them? I distinctly remember doing most of that work myself while you lay in fish guts. You fucking stink.”
“Hey! I’m a pretty good fighter, thank you very much?—”
“No. I mean you stink.”
“Dammit! She’s right. Now we have to go shower before—” Mat drops off mid-sentence, muttering something about needing to get to bed early.
“Before what?”
“Before reporting to Pyotr.”
“Good boy,” I snap, turning back to Andreev and nailing him with one last hard stare before we leave. “Come, we go together. I want more details, anything you can remember.”
Ciro and Matvey follow me out.
“Yours or ours?” Ciro jingles Matvey’s car keys.
“Yours.”
“I’ll drive!” Matvey holds up his hands for the keys.
“Nope. You talk, he drives.”
“No fucking way, I just got it back from the body shop!”
“What are you trying to say, Mat?” Ciro chuckles, sliding into the driver’s seat of the jet-black Camaro. My brother and his inflated ego. Not that I don’t love muscle cars.
“You do not put scratch on it.”
“Oh, you’ve never driven with me before. Cute.” Ciro grins, revving the engine once before slamming it into gear and gunning it.
“Fuck!” Mat yelps, falling back hard as the car jerks forward suddenly, roaring down the street.
A little laugh slips through my lips at the thrill of speed and the expert, insane half-donut that Ciro pulls at the end of the cul-de-sac. Smooth as silk, he peels out into the night, swerving through the sparse traffic like he owns these fucking streets.
“I’m impressed.”
“Easily, it seems.” He sniffs. Cocky bastard.
“Do I have to sit back here and listen to you two flirt?”
“That or you can buckle up. We’ve got company.” Ciro’s tone drops.
Through my side mirror I see the two cars, zagging along behind us, keeping pace. Bold move on our turf.
“I guess I will get a chance to be not so easily impressed, ah?”
“Hang on!” Ciro skids a hard right, looking past me to catch a glimpse of the two cars pursuing us.
“What the hell are they thinking?” Matvey muses. “Following us in our backyard is…just fucking stupid.”
“Maybe they want to know where home base is?”
All three of us flinch as a gunshot sounds, cracking into the back of Mat’s car.
“Or they want to stop us before we can tell someone about them!” I yell.
“Aw come on! I just got last damage fixed!”
“Better the car than your head!”
“Eh, I dunno, he could use an extra hole or two,” Ciro snipes, that telltale laughter shaking his voice. He’s getting worked up. And the grin on his face is widening as the stakes rise.
“Take left, we lead them away from compound, to industrial area. We lose them, or we kill them.” And hopefully keep one alive for questioning, I leave unsaid.
I bark off more directions for him, knowing these streets like my own skin. This is my home. And they have no clue who they are toying with.
“I should have driven, I know area better.”
“But I’m a better driver.”
“Says you.”
“We’ll see what you have to say when this is done. If we live.”
My chest heaves as he increases speed, locking eyes with me as he does. It’s the speed. Yes, only the speed that is making my heart pound in my chest. Not the smoldering stare that he never breaks as he swerves around a stopped truck, through an intersection, a red light, veering around two near collisions at breathtaking velocity.
The tight streets of the old factory district offer much cover. Parked cars, trucks, containers. But as hard as it makes it for them to get a shot, it makes it just as difficult for me to return fire out my window.
“We need an opening!”
“I need a goddamn barf bag…” Matvey mutters.
“Motion sickness?” Ciro chirps.
“No. You two make me sick.”
Ciro’s mischievous smile is contagious. And more than just the banter between us, I am enjoying this danger with him way too much. The worst part is, he fucking knows it.
Two more wild, hairpin turns and I’m flushed, thoroughly riled up and excited. And absolutely not because he slipped a hand over onto my thigh. Protective arrogant bullshit.
Or he’s just pushing the limits.
Either way, it’s a good thing my brother is in the car. If it was just us, I might get some crazy ideas putting his concentration to the test.
The back window explodes suddenly, drawing a string of curses from all three of us. Ice cold air whips into the car.
“Sorry Matty! But at least now you can give them some payback!”
“You do not have to tell me two times.”
“Twice!”
He sets to it immediately, turning around and clearing the rest of the pebbled glass. Unfortunately, our tails have the same advantage of cover, staying just far enough back to avoid Matvey’s assault.
“I think it is time to turn tables, no?”
“Agreed. The straightaway up ahead?”
“ Da .”
Ciro veers to the left, through a chain-link gate. Then he slams the gas, the magnificent engine roars and we rocket forward onto the wide, vacant avenue between two abandoned brick buildings.
He continues to accelerate, smashing us back into the seats, and the two black cars follow suit.
“They’re gaining!”
“Let ’em.” Ciro growls and I cannot resist any longer, completely caught up in the fray.
My hand is on his thigh, sliding across his lap. Only to find his cock already rock-hard and straining against his pants. Biting my lip, my fingers tighten, gripping him as we soar toward the waterfront.
“Brace!” He shouts, and slams on the brakes, throwing a hand across my chest and copping a feel in the process. Just before he slides his hand down, grazing between my thighs and pressing just enough to make me arch my back and flex.
Matvey curses, bouncing against the back of Ciro’s seat as the car screeches to a halt and the two pursuing sports cars whoosh past us, barely missing on either side. Then Ciro’s hand is back on the shifter, first gear, surging after them.
Both cars hesitate, turning along the route, clearly at a loss for how to handle us chasing them. One slows, trying to come alongside us while two dark-eyed killers take aim out the back window, automatic weapons. So I quickly take the opportunity to blow out a couple of tires.
The car spins, clipping the loading dock wall, Ciro whips in, clipping their bumper, sending them into a roll as we speed away. As much as I hate to admit, he was right. Ciro is more than impressive behind the wheel.
He is a fucking magician.
Leaving the first car tumbling in our wake, we gain on the lead car. Guns emerge from the windows again, spraying bullets back at us, but Ciro doesn’t give them an easy target. A few more shots and they have to reload.
That’s when their driver decides to try a maneuver of his own, making to spin around on us to either make us hit them, or give them a clear shot. Dangerous, no matter how you look at it.
But Ciro huffs indignantly, swerving wide, pulling the hand brake and whipping us into a tailspin, using our heavier vehicle to clip the front end of the BMW as it comes around and causing them to loose control.
With a crunch of metal and glass, the other car slams into the brick wall, coming to a sudden stop.
And Ciro simply rides out the momentum of the drift, easing us up right beside the wreck.
“Go!” I order, bolting from the car as I see men exiting the crashed vehicle, readying their MP5s.
Matvey dives out the back window, still grumbling about the damage to his precious car, Ciro making a beeline to the wall and flanking. A rain of bullets chases all three of us to cover, ducking behind anything we can find.
“I’m out!” I grit out through clenched teeth. Foolish of me not to grab another clip. Not that I expected to be chased across town and shot at tonight.
Bolting from my cover, I launch a throwing knife into one of the thug’s legs, dropping him to his knee with a shout, just in time for Matvey to take him in the head, laying more cover fire for me to get behind some crates and leaving an opening for Ciro.
“Shakal!”
“Got it!”
And like we planned it, Ciro sprints at the wall, stepping twice on the bricks as if he can fly and leaping out over the smoking car, the four remaining attackers, all gawking up at him with priceless expressions.
He’s an angel of death, turning a roundoff in midair, drawing his guns from his sides, his coat flapping in the wind.
Raining pain and vengeance down on them.
Fuck me, I think I might be falling…
Ciro hits the ground, stepping down out of the sky and throwing a glance over one shoulder to assess the damage. Three dead.
Two more shots off to his right and I know the survivors from the other car are no more.
Shaking my head I rush out in the heat of the onslaught, catching my brother’s eye as we zero in on the driver trying to slip away unnoticed.
A nod is all we need to silently agree on a plan.
Mat always goes low, I go high. My twin takes the driver’s feet out from under him, pitching him back. Right into my flying knees, taking him right at chest level and driving him to the ground with brutal abandon. The wind blasts from his chest, a strangled scream as the pavement shreds his back.
“Who are you?” I shout in his face, planting one palm across his chin and neck and a blade to his cheek to keep him from moving. “If you flinch, I take your eye out.”
“Hng…N-never,” he manages to choke out, following his intelligible protest with a string of what I can only imagine are insults in another language.
“Sounds like he wants hard way,” Matvey snickers, standing behind me, guarding my back.
A vicious grin spreads on my face as I jam my knuckles into a wound on his arm, making him shake and growl.
“Give me a name. An organization,” I hiss, leaning in close to his ear. The proximity seems to make him more uncomfortable than the pain, and pure hatred fills his eyes as he tries to pull away from me. “So you do not like women? Or Russians?”
“I think he just doesn’t like you, Van.”
“ Tishina !” I snap over my shoulder. Not in the mood for jokes. “Shakal! Do you recognize his language?”
“Not off the top of my head, but something about their daggers is familiar.”
The man’s eyes widen a fraction as I dig down into his belt, yanking the blade free. “This, ah? What can you tell me about this?”
But I see him jawing, making strange movements with his mouth.
“Shit! Poison, stop him!” Ciro shouts.
Matvey is beside me in an instant, jamming fingers into his mouth, flicking a capsule away in a spray of blood and spit.
“Fucking disgusting!”
“Fucking insane.” I agree, distracted for a split second by the realization of what was about to happen. Long enough for my prisoner to squirm an arm free, shoving me off balance and onto my ass.
He’s on his feet and sprinting away before I can make it back to mine.
“Got him!” Ciro takes off running and I’m right on his heels.
But Matvey’s warning shout gives me a moment’s pause just before I hear the sound of a motorcycle nearby, closing fast. A flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye sends my instincts into overdrive.
I dive hard, tackling Ciro at the waist.
Gunfire echoes all around us, the sound of a rifle. Two shots.
We land hard, Ciro on his back, gasping, holding me to his chest. Hard footsteps draw my attention up and Matvey runs past raising his pistol. To my left, the foreign driver lies dead, shot between the eyes.
“Mat!” I call after him, catching sight of the shooter. Jet black leather from head to toe. And a black mask with a white symbol on the forehead, covering his face. Jet black eyes send a shiver down my spine right before he revs his motorcycle and burns out, peeling away as Matvey unloads his clip.
It’s of little use. In a moment, he is gone.
And I feel the body beneath me, the powerful arms around me. The scent of soap and a hint of cologne raising my pulse. It reminds me of pine trees, winter mornings.
“You alright?” Ciro asks softly.
I’m on his chest.
“I save you, asshole. I’m fine,” I snip, feeling his fingers tighten on my back, the other hand brushing my hair aside, caressing my cheek.
We lay there for a second longer, looking into each other’s eyes, our bodies pressed together, perfectly curved to one another. He’s warm. Hard.
And just before I shove myself off his chest, I brush his lips with mine, so fast, barely tasting his breath. He staggers to his feet, stunned, blinking.
And of course, I pretend nothing happened as Matvey rushes back to check on us.
“He got away. And my car is fucked.”
“It’s better you did not follow alone. The masked one…he was assassin. Professional.”
“I could take him.”
“Don’t be fool. We are alive. We will hunt the rest of them down and the hitman. As brotherhood. With plenty of backup,” I promise, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Call for ride, we need to see Pyotr and the other council members tonight.”
“ Da ,” he salutes automatically, digging for his phone. Glancing at Ciro, he smirks at the look still lingering on his face. “Hey, um what were you two doing down there?”
“Uh…” Ciro gives me a heated look.
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing, you want me to let you finish?”
“I’ll finish you if you do not shut your fucking mouth, little brother.”
“Always with the ‘little brother’ when it suits you. Pretty sure Mama told me I came out first, so…”
“Mama said anything you wanted to hear because you were spoiled brat.” I turn, storming off toward the sound of cars speeding down the drive. And to avoid Ciro’s eyes I can feel searing into my back. He is too smug. And I also cannot handle the way he looks at me when Mat and I bicker. Like a forlorn puppy, probably missing his own brother.
I will not be sappy like some American woman.
Along with a driver for us, the cleaning crew pulls in to handle the mess.
“Clean up must be quick. Quiet. Do not let the politsiya get wind of any of this,” I grumble to the first lieutenant out of the van.
“ Da, Kapitan .” Immediately he conveys orders and a dozen men set to work.
More than the police, I am worried for optics on this disaster. It is unexpected. Makes us look like we had our guard down. We cannot be seen to be weak to other Bratva branches.
Ciro and Matvey catch up as I reach our ride.
“What do you think we’re dealing with, Shakal?”
“Hm. I’ve encountered guys like these before. Usually mercs for hire, like the Lyras.”
“You’ve met Greek assassins before?” Mat marvels. Fucking mafia fanboy.
“Yeah. Lucky to be alive. This is different, though. More organized, less specialized. These guys were part of a larger force. Grunts.”
“And what about this?” I hold up the knife as we drive across town back to base.
“Reminds me of legends my great-uncle Giancarlo used to tell us.”
I nod, watching the city sweep by. “Old World.”
“Exactly. Like older than the Camorra. Maybe as old as the Yakuza.”
“Holy shitballs.” Matvey wonders, sighing through a wide-eyed smile. Of course he would be excited to be part of a gang war with an ancient group of killers.
“Do not get hopes up. We will leave this to elders to discuss. They will know what to do, and heads of Bratvas will have more information.”
“So we report in and then what? Just go to bed?”
“Then go do whatever you want. I have plans,” I say dismissively.
Because I need to unwind. To drink, dance.
Maybe even find a distraction from these constant thoughts about Ciro’s hands exploring my body. And I know just the place to find all of the above.