Chapter 28 – Karik
I stood on the hill overlooking the abandoned structure surrounded by towering trees. This was where the Sokolov Syndicate was holding my wife.
Through the binoculars raised in front of my face, I scanned the area, patiently waiting for Sergei’s return. He’d taken a handful of men for a quick reconnaissance survey. We needed to be sure they didn’t know we were coming.
The sound of a twig snapping beneath a boot behind me caught my attention. I didn’t have to look back to know it was my lieutenant.
“There are five men on the east wing,” he said, approaching me. “Seven guard the main entrance. And I counted three more on the west side.”
“How many in total?” I lowered my binoculars. “Plus the four on the roof.”
“Nineteen. Give or take.”
“Our snipers?”
“In position.”
“Excellent.” I withdrew my pistol and cocked the damn thing. “Let’s kill these bastards.”
Sergei and I mobilized the men and moved through the woods undetected. We counted nineteen men outside, but there were more inside. Their exact number was unknown. However, that wasn’t a problem we couldn’t handle.
There were just ten of us: me, Sergei, and eight of my finest fighters. We moved stealthily, invading the building and taking out the guards one by one.
Our guns had silencers attached to their barrels so the shots were muffled. No noise. No unnecessary attention was drawn to ourselves.
In less than five minutes, fifteen out of the nineteen we counted earlier were already dead. Their bodies were dragged into dark corners to avoid suspicion.
Our boots made no sound against the concrete as we snuck into the building, each on high alert. On my signal, we split up into groups of two. Sergei was with me. The plan was to quietly invade as many rooms as we could and kill as many guards as we could until we found my wife.
As we moved through the space, hiding behind pillars, one of the men on the balcony spotted a movement in the shadows. I signaled Sergei to pause. He did.
The guard, holding his radio in his hand, drew closer, eyes fixed in my direction. To distract him, Sergei kicked an empty can across the room. As expected, the man’s attention was drawn to the sound.
The second he took his eyes off, I fired two shots at him. Two bullets to the chest. I thought he was going to fall backward. Instead, his limp body stumbled over the railing. There was a table below, and the moment he crashed onto it, the noise would alert the others.
“Shit,” I mumbled.
The table broke under his weight as he landed with a loud thud.
“Hey!” someone yelled after spotting me.
As soon as he saw his colleague’s corpse on the floor, he pulled out his gun and fired one shot at me. Because the whole place was quiet, the sound was louder than it should be.
Bang!
I hid behind the pillar, listening to heavy footsteps approaching. The Sokolov men were aware of our presence and were already yelling in Russian.
Guns were cocked; orders were flying around. Kill the enemies.
My expression darkened, and my mind focused on only one thing. Rescuing my wife. I tucked my pistol into my pants and armed myself with the AK-47 slung over my shoulder.
Sergei and I exchanged glances across the room before stepping out into the open. The entire building plunged into anarchy.
Rapid gunfire erupted, filling the space as both parties began shooting at each other. My men and I moved strategically through the chaos, gunning down the enemies with practiced ease.
They had the number. But we had the tactical advantage. My men were faster, more skilled, and more experienced. The battle was supposed to end as quickly as it began, considering the fact that we were outnumbered.
But clearly, there wasn’t just strength in numbers. There was also death. They were massacred, the walls and floors stained with their blood.
Deathly screams filled the air, accompanied by the sound of tearing flesh and breaking bones. Necks were snapped, heads were shot open, and brains were blown out.
The fight was so intense that the enemies began retreating. A couple of my men chased after them while the rest of us turned the place upside down looking for Ellie.
Sergei and I killed our way up the steps—shooting, stabbing, punching—until we reached a lit hallway. On the other end was a huge man with deadly experience and a sickle-shaped blade.
It was him.
The same man who fired the shot that almost killed Agata.
Sergei locked his jaw, his curling into a fist. “Go. Find her,” he said to me. “This one’s mine.”
Without a word, I turned away, heading toward the door at the other side of the corridor. I could hear their thick grunts behind me as they exchanged blows and kicks.
I had no doubt that that man stood no chance against Sergei.
Two others came out of the room I was walking toward, armed with a gun and a knife.
They fired at me. Three times.
With lightning speed, I dodged the first two, but the last one grazed my arm. I didn’t flinch, didn’t even wince. I hurled a blade into one’s chest and shot the other in the head.
Both dropped to the ground. Dead.
The door opened, and a rather tall masked man rushed out with a loud bellow. He speared into me in a blinding flash, sending us both crashing to the floor.
I rolled over to my feet, my gun lying across from me. His eyes bore into mine for a second before he lunged at me. I straightened, my hands a rapid blur of movements as I deflected his punches.
Our grunts echoed down the hallway, fists swinging wildly. He was taller and bigger than me, yet I was his equal. I trapped his arm in both of mine and twisted mercilessly.
He cried out as his bone snapped like a twig.
I yanked his head down, jabbing my knuckles into his throat. His eyes widened, almost bulging out from their sockets. He wheezed, choking as he stumbled backward. I swung the back of my leg, my boot connecting with his jawline.
The impact turned his neck with a sickening crack.
Snap.
His body thudded to the ground.
My chest heaved, my breathing ragged.
“Karik!” Ellie’s voice came from the room across.
I dashed toward the door without thinking twice and kicked it down. My scowl deepened when I saw her strapped to a chair with a man holding her at gunpoint.
“Ah, ah, ah!” he warned me. “Take one more step, and I swear to God, I’ll blow her brains out.”
I stopped in my tracks, my gaze dropping to her face. She was afraid, yet she remained calm even with a gun to her head. When we locked eyes, I saw a hint of relief in her gaze, as if she’d been waiting for my arrival.
“Let her go.” My fingers clenched into fists at my sides. “I won’t ask a second time.”
“You’re in no place to make demands, Tarasov,” he said, leaning in toward her. “I’m the one with the gun.”
Ellie glanced at me in silence, her face twisting in a way that said she was about to make a bold move. Before I could blink, she headbutted the man in the nose with all her strength.
In a heartbeat, I reached for the pistol in my pants and fired three times at him. The first bullet knocked the gun out of his hand, and the second hit him in the arm. And the third clicked empty. I was out.
He groaned, stumbling backward with a broken nose and a bleeding arm. My men stormed into the room, guns aimed at him as he raised his hand in surrender.
I rushed over to the chair, went down on one knee, and took her face in my hands. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anyone touch you?” The words tumbled out of me, my voice laced with worry and concern.
Tears welled in her eyes, her lips quivering without producing any sound.
“Knife!” I barked, glancing at my men.
A blade was shoved into my hand, and I began cutting her loose. The moment the last rope slipped off her skin, she slipped into my arms, her arms around my neck.
“You came,” she breathed in my ear, holding me tightly like she’d never done before. “Thank you.”
I smoothed her hair backward, a wind of relief blowing across my face. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me right now.”
She sniffled and let go, her eyes locked on mine. I wiped away the tears trickling down her cheeks, my thumb caressing her skin.
“Karik…Agata…” she whimpered, pain etched in her gaze. “She’s….”
“She’s alive, Ellie.”
“What?” Her brows arched, a glimmer of hope dancing in her eyes.
“She’s in a critical condition,” I said. “But she’s alive.”
She pursed her lips, nodding as she fought back her tears.
Sergei cleared his throat conspicuously, as if to remind us of the situation on the ground. “Boss, what do we do with this imp?”
“You know….” The idiot looked up at him. “That’s really not a nice way to describe people like me.”
“Son of a bitch,” Ellie mumbled under her breath as she rose to her feet, her expression dark with fury.
His eyes widened in horror when he saw her approaching him with murderous intent. “Oh, boy,” he whispered. “Somebody stop her, please.”
Ellie grabbed him by the collar, forcing him to his feet. And right there in front of all of us, she struck him hard in the face with the back of her hand.
His head snapped to the side, and he spat out blood. Then a single tooth. “Fuck, that hurt.”
“That’s for all the people you hurt today!” she snapped at him, her chest heaving with labored breaths.
I’d never been more proud of anyone than I was of her. She was fierce and feral. I liked it.
I stepped closer, my eyes boring into the man’s as he knelt on the ground. “Kill him.”
Sergei cocked his gun, ready to pull the trigger, and the idiot had already closed his eyes when Ellie stopped him.
“No, wait,” she said.
Sergei paused, his gun still aimed at his target.
Ellie leaned in and said to me, “This is about Varro.”
My interest was piqued, and my brows knitted as I listened to her.
“They kidnapped me because they wanted to know what I knew about him,” she whispered.
“Are you sure?” I asked with the same tone.
“Positive,” she answered. “I overheard them talking about him.” She glanced at the captive, then met my gaze again. “Trust me. He’s in league with Niklaus Varro.”