Chapter 36
36
ROMAN
“ P apa!” It takes a moment to realize it’s me Masha is referring to. It’s only when she hurls herself at me, her little arms reaching upward, that I understand it’s me who is Papa .
“ Myshka .” My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else. I catch her, and she wraps her arms and legs around me, burying her face in my neck. I can feel the frantic hammering of her heart through the thin cloth covering her back. I’m aware of Dimitry and Orlov behind me. Ofelia has come to her feet, but she still hovers against the back wall. I hear a noise behind me, the low murmur of voices, and Ofelia’s eyes widen as she watches someone over my shoulder.
Petrovsky.
I’m aware of his figure entering the room to my right, but I don’t trust myself to look at him. Not while I still have Masha in my arms.
“It’s okay, Ofelia.” I try with all my self-control to keep my voice even. “You’re going to be safe now. But I need you to stay in here for a few more minutes. Can you do that?”
“No.” It’s Masha who answers, her voice muffled against my neck. “Don’t want to stay.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Although it breaks my heart to do it, I slowly unwrap her arms from around my neck, holding her slightly away from me so I can look her in the eye. “But you know Dimitry.” Her face lifts marginally when she sees Dimitry’s crooked smile. “He’s going to stay with you until I come back, keep you safe. Will you stay here with him?”
“No!” Masha’s face is tearstained, her lower lip already trembling. She peeks through her hair at Dimitry as she clings to me like a limpet.
“Hey, Masha.” Dimitry’s voice is gentle. “I’m going to keep you safe, okay, sweetheart?”
“Masha.” Ofelia steps forward, her eyes still trained on the man standing slightly behind me. The opaque mask she wears breaks my heart. “Come here, to me. You know Dimitry will keep us safe. Roman has to do something before he can take us home. Remember, we told you?”
We?
So Alexei has been explaining this fucking treachery to my daughters?
Vicious savagery clenches my gut.
The bastard used his knife on Ofelia. Scared her so much she knows the vault has to be opened before she’s safe.
Oh, that fucking mudak will pay for this, and for every other minute of pain he’s inflicted on us all.
“Masha.” Ofelia is still watching Alexei, who is no more than a solid shape in my peripheral vision. She puts her arms out, gently prying Masha from my grasp. “It’s all going to be okay now. Papa is here, okay?” Her face flushes slightly as she says the word, her eyes touching mine then sliding away. I can’t tell if she is just indulging Masha’s use of the word Papa as reassurance or if there’s more to it.
What has Orlov told them?
But now isn’t the time for those questions.
Mak’s voice crackles in my ear again. “Fedorov is in Spain. Stick to the plan until you get Petrovsky’s key, then it’s go time.”
Fuck.
I’m so stunned that I almost drop Masha as I transfer her to Ofelia’s arms. My eyes meet Dimitry’s over their heads. He’s heard the radio transmission too, as has every one of our team.
“Ofelia, Dimitry and two of his friends will stay here with you and Masha. But I’ll be back very soon, okay?” She nods, glancing in the corner again, then away.
My mind is racing, but time has slowed down. The fight isn’t here anymore.
This is all just a fucking decoy.
But somehow, I suspect Orlov doesn’t know that. And that’s to our advantage.
“Right.” I glance at Orlov, not least to avoid looking at Alexei Petrovsky. “Let’s do this.”
“Petrovsky.” Orlov is actually grinning. “Looks like it’s your moment in the sun, boy.”
The bulk in the corner moves, but it isn’t Petrovsky I’m looking at. It’s Ofelia. She’s watching Alexei Petrovsky like he’s the only person in the room, her eyes wide and luminous with fear. Her neck moves as she swallows convulsively, clutching Masha hard against her.
I wait as Petrovsky moves past me to the door, taking him in for the first time with a queer inner jolt. It’s like looking at a younger version of Sergei, one just as formidable. Alexei’s lone eye is the same hard blue as Sergei’s, his face stark and angular, hair almost white blond in contrast to Darya’s dark mane. He is taller than his photos suggest and almost as broad as the door. He might have been handsome, were it not for the eye patch and the extensive scarring on his face, fine lines that could only have been made by multiple knife wounds.
I brought him to heel years ago , Vilnus said of Alexei. Taking in the vicious marks on his face, I don’t doubt that is true. There’s only so much torture any person can withstand, and I’d say Alexei reached that threshold long ago. He’s clearly turned himself into a lethal weapon in response, going by the hard muscle filling out his suit. Alexei would be a match for either Dimitry or me in the ring, that much is clear. In the brief moment he passes me, his lone eye meets mine, hard and glacial. There’s not the slightest flicker of recognition, no acknowledgment of any kind.
There’s no emotion in that eye at all.
The fucker is a stone-cold killer. One who used a knife on one of my daughters and terrified the life out of the other one. He has no conscience. Whatever Alexei Petrovsky was once, the man with me now is someone else entirely, forged anew in violence and savagery.
He’s beyond saving.
Maybe I needed to know that before I took the life of Darya’s brother, even though I’ve known for a long time it was going to come to this. I needed to know so I can look her in the eye when I tell her Alexei is dead.
“This door stays unlocked,” I say, pausing in the doorway.
Vilnus scowls. “Not a fucking chance.”
“It stays unlocked.” I don’t move. “One unlocked door for another, Orlov. You’ve got guns covering every move we make. Nobody is getting out of here without your permission, but my girls have suffered enough. That door stays open, or the fucking vault stays closed.”
His mouth works, his eyes narrowed as he tries to think this through. It’s like watching a snail on valium attempting to cross a road.
“I don’t have all day, Orlov.”
“Fine. It stays open. But they stay inside the room, and two more of my men stay with them.” Orlov delivers this nonsensical response as if it’s some kind of compromise.
Fuck, he’s stupid. Every moment in his company diminishes him, makes it more plain that he is no more than Fedorov’s puppet, has never been capable of anything more. That thought brings me back to Fedorov’s current game.
What the hell is he doing in Spain?
Thank fuck I sent Darya to London.
I think briefly of Sergei, but that is one problem I can’t do anything about right now.
I leave the doorway, and Dimitry takes my place, two of Alpha Team behind him in the room, standing in front of the girls. I look at Ofelia and Masha one last time, then at Dimitry. He gives me the faintest nod. He knows it’s about to go down.
I follow Orlov down the corridor that leads to the vault. Petrovsky is behind me, but my remaining two men are behind him.
He’s not going anywhere.
We round several corners, all of which I’ve memorized from the schematic, until we come to the thing we’re all here for: the vault.
The door to it covers an entire wall.
Even given the tension of the moment, I can’t help but admire my father’s final masterpiece. The last time I saw the vault was the night Papasha brought me here so he could code my fingerprints into the lock. Back then, it was still under construction, and my vague recollection of it is only a vast wall of half-completed metalwork, with wires and bits hanging in every direction.
The finished product is a work of art in itself, a steel wall ten feet wide and almost the same height. Curlicued metalwork stands out from the original surface, intricate and ornate. It’s designed to look like climbing flowers, the design concealing the actual door. I smile inwardly. This part, at least, is going to be fun.
I take the key out of my jacket pocket and get a savage rush of satisfaction at the look of part shock, part triumph on Orlov’s face. He clearly never really expected things to go this smoothly.
That’s right, you bastard. Think you’re winning.
I turn to Alexei Petrovsky. “I believe you have the partner key?”
This time, the look on Orlov’s face is truly priceless.
“Let me guess.” It’s my turn to give Orlov a shit-eating grin. “You never knew there were two keys. Your tame dog never mentioned that part to you.”
Orlov turns to Petrovsky, his face falling in on itself like a sunken pudding, mouthing furiously.
The smile on Alexei’s face is colder than the Arctic in January. “No,” he says in a quiet, lethal rasp, holding Orlov’s eyes. “That part the dog kept to itself.”
“That was a mistake.” Orlov’s voice shakes with anger.
Alexei lifts a shoulder and drops it again. It’s a gesture so contemptuous he might as well be shrugging off a bug. “We’ll see, Orlov.” Reaching out, he presses the centers of two flowers simultaneously.
My stomach lurches queerly, time shifting like smoke. For a moment I am back in my father’s workshop, watching his long fingers twist those metal flowers into being.
The center of another flower slides back, revealing a tiny black circle. Alexei presses his thumb to it, and a panel slides open.
My father clearly taught Sergei more than I thought.
“You know, Vilnus,” Alexei says conversationally as he withdraws the golden key inside it, “your idiotic safe hackers actually opened that flower more than once by accident. They never even noticed. Not that it would have mattered if they did.” He glances at me, and for the first time, I catch a glimmer of anger. “This key is useless without the other one.”
I smile coldly. “Glad you grasp the situation, Petrovsky.”
I hold my hand out, certain there’s no chance in hell he’s going to hand over that key, no matter what Sergei said.
“No,” Orlov says, looking between us. “Hand your key to Petrovsky, or this deal is off.” He’s nervous, despite his bravado. Somehow, Orlov can sense he’s part of a game he doesn’t quite understand.
I don’t move, just give him another unpleasant smile. I’d be lying if I said I’m not enjoying watching the bastard sweat.
“There’s no point in me giving my key to your dog,” I say contemptuously. I’m aware of Alexei, tense as a coiled snake beside me. “He doesn’t know how to open it. He wasn’t lying about that part.”
But the truth is that after watching him open that metal flower, I’m not sure what Alexei does or doesn’t know.
Not that it matters.
One word from me, and the one-eyed bastard is a dead man. I’m poised to give the order.
I want to give the fucking order.
Then, to my utter shock, Alexei Petrovsky gives me a twisted smile and drops the key into my open palm. “It’s yours,” he says calmly.
Vilnus Orlov looks between us suspiciously. “If you two are finished your pissing contest, then you can open that fucking thing,” he snarls.
In your fucking dreams, Orlov.
I smile at him. “Go,” I say quietly.
It all happens so fast Vilnus doesn’t even get a hand near his gun.
Flash bangs fill the room with smoke. The walls on either side of us burst open, and Mak’s men fill the small space, taking every one of Vilnus’s guards with silenced pistols before they’ve so much as pulled a trigger. I have Orlov headlocked and on the ground before his guards hit the floor. My two remaining guards have taken Petrovsky. To my surprise, he doesn’t struggle at all, just goes to the ground with that same twisted, cold smile, submitting without any fight as they zip tie his hands behind him.
I pocket both of the keys and quickly strap on the weapons Mak’s men throw me. I can hear the shouts of the fight on the floor above as more of Bravo Team pours out of the upper tunnels.
“Get those two to the dock,” I snarl at the small army surrounding Petrovsky and Orlov. “And get them there alive.” I’m already running down the corridor toward the room where the girls are held, two dozen men hard on my heels, when a pack of men round the corner, guns already blazing.
I take two hits that hurt like a motherfucker despite my body armor. I shoot without pausing, taking out both of the shooters. The others behind them go down just as fast under measured, precise firing from Mak’s men. I move straight through the pack, punching two stragglers as I go, intent on only one thing: getting to the girls.
They keep coming, and we keep taking them down, Mak’s men covering me as I run straight through every oncomer, punching those who haven’t already been hit before I reach them.
I round the final corner just as Bravo Team comes from the opposite direction. In between us is a pile of bodies and Dimitry standing in front of the open door, flanked by one of the Alpha Team men. He has blood streaming down his face, and his suit is ripped to fuck, but he’s grinning like the mad bastard he is.
“About time,” he greets me, punching a final Orlov resistor to the ground.
He must have taken at least a dozen of them with his bare hands, and under gunfire, before we reached him.
I grip his shoulder, and he stands aside.
Ofelia and Masha are curled into the floor, their heads down. The final Alpha Team member is sprawled across them, literally covering their bodies with his own, his large hands over their two heads. Blood leaks from several holes in his body. He stands as I approach, and grins when I throw him a pistol.
“Fun times,” he says. Ignoring the blood coming from his leg, he crouches down beside Ofelia and pats her shoulder, then raises Masha up gently. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” he says, smiling at her. “You’re going to be safe now, okay? We’ve got you.”
“Hurry.” Mak’s voice crackles through the earpiece. “There’s a fucking army coming at the compound.”
I crouch down, horribly aware both of the blood and death surrounding us and of the need for haste. “Ofelia,” I say quietly, trying to reassure the rigid figure huddled into the wall. “We have to hurry, darling.”
She nods, her face white and tense. Masha turns around. “You have blood on you,” she says in a small voice.
“Yes, I do. But I’m fine, Masha, and so are you. We need to go now, okay? We’re going on a boat.”
I pick her up and hold my hand out to Ofelia, but she pauses. “Where is Alexei?”
I frown. “Don’t worry about Alexei, darling. He can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.”
“You didn’t—Is he dead?” There’s something odd about the way she says it, almost an accusatory note in her voice.
“Not yet,” I say grimly. “I need him to answer some questions. We have to go, now.”
She nods, but her eyes are darting this way and that, as if she’s still looking for her torturer. They settle instead on the Alpha Team member, a man called Luke, if I remember correctly. He smiles at her reassuringly. “I’m right behind you, sweetheart.”
She nods, gulping, and starts to move. I shoot Luke a grateful look. Despite the blood leaking from several points on his body, he’s smiling as calmly as if he were taking a Sunday walk.
We move upstairs amid a pack of Mak’s men, Masha in my arms, Ofelia holding my hand, Dimitry in front of us and Luke behind. The sound of gunfire punches the air as we hasten through the compound, heading for the rear exit that leads down to the dock on Biscayne bay.
We’ve just left the building when all hell breaks loose.
“You need to get to the boat, Roman.”
I don’t need Mak’s voice crackling in my ear to tell me what I can already fucking see.
Men clad in black militia suits are coming at us from every direction on the compound.
There’s a chopper overhead, cutting down our team with precision fire.
And on the water, two rigid-hull inflatable boats are crowding in behind ours, cutting off our escape.
Fedorov might be in Spain, but something tells me he’s still running the show.
“Head to the second exfil point.” Mak’s voice is calm and assured in my ear. “I have backup on the way.”
Mak and I designated a nearby shoreline harbor as an emergency extraction point if shit went south.
And shit has, most definitely, gone fucking south.
“They’d better fucking hurry,” Dimitry mutters, glancing grim faced at me.
“I need to get the girls out of here.” I’m already running at full speed for the trees that separate us from the shoreline harbor.
“Copy that.” Dimitry nods at Luke. “We’ll cover you.” They turn to face the oncoming fire, as more of Mak’s men join them. I race through the trees, pulling Ofelia by the hand, Masha clinging to me tightly.
I have to get them to safety.
Nothing matters more than that. Not Orlov, or Alexei Petrovsky, or whatever shit storm is being unleashed behind me. Nothing matters but making sure the girls get out of here alive.
The shore landing is half a mile from the compound. I’m running it as hard as I can when a shout goes up behind me.
“Over there!”
I glance over my shoulder. There’s a dozen men coming for us, at double our speed.
If I stop to shoot them, we won’t make the shoreline in time. Far worse, I will expose the girls to their gunfire.
Ofelia has seen them too. She turns to me briefly, her already pale face bloodless, eyes wide and terrified.
“We can do it,” I say under my breath, pulling her with me. “We’re nearly there.”
There’s a quarter mile to go, and I can already see where the trees are starting to thin ahead of us.
Ofelia stumbles, and her hand slips from mine. “Roman!”
“Ofelia!” Masha’s scream echoes off the trees.
I halt, tugging Ofelia to her feet. “I won’t leave you. Come on.”
“No!” She tries to stand, but she’s clearly turned an ankle, or worse, because her leg simply crumples beneath her. “I can’t,” she whispers, tears falling down her face. “I can’t stand, Roman.”
“It’s okay.” I’m looking around, trying to find shelter, but the best I can do is a large banyan tree. I pull Ofelia under the root canopy.
“I have to put you down, myshka ,” I whisper in Masha’s ear as I lower her down to Ofelia’s waiting arms. “I need you to hide until I come for you, okay?”
Masha nods solemnly, staring at me with wide eyes that break my fucking heart. I strip off my jacket and wrap it around them. “It’s bulletproof,” I say to Ofelia. “Keep it over you both.”
She catches my hand. “What about you?”
I squeeze her fingers. “I’m fine, baby. I’ll come back for you, I promise.”
But Ofelia must be able to read the lie in my eyes, because her fingers slide from mine and she turns away, drawing the jacket around her and Masha.
I want to say more. Say something she will remember. But there’s no time.
There’s no fucking time.
“Hold them off. We’re coming.” Mak’s voice is reassuringly calm in my ear. I know his team will be coming as hard as they can.
I also know there’s not much chance I’ll still be alive when they get here.
I take cover behind a tree off to the right and start shooting.
The black-clad guys are barely three hundred yards away. I pick off three of them before their bullets start hitting the trunk beside my face.
Hold on.
I breathe deeply, making every shot count.
The closest of the attackers is almost two hundred yards out, and I can’t get a shot amid the covering fire from the men behind him.
At least the fire is aimed at me and not the girls.
Fuck.
It can’t end like this. Not hiding in a fucking suburban park, with my girls cowering under a tree they should be playing beneath.
No.
Fuck that.
Suddenly I am ten years old again, running through the darkened streets, entirely alone in this world.
I will not abandon my children to the darkness Darya and I were forced to live .
I won’t let them watch me die here. I won’t leave them alone, facing the world with no protector.
I won’t let them inherit the lethal legacy we have all been forced to suffer for.
I turn on the spot, my decision made, and race back to the tree.
Ofelia stares up at me, Masha’s face buried in her chest. “You came back,” she breathes. “You came back for us.”
“I promised,” I say roughly, scooping her up before she has a chance to protest. “Masha. Can you run?”
She nods silently, her eyes wide.
“Okay, then.” I nod at the tree line ahead of us. “There’s a boat on the other side of those trees. That’s where we have to go, myshka . Come on.” We race for the tree line, Ofelia’s arms around my neck, Masha’s little legs pounding determinedly beside me. “That’s it, sweetheart,” I pant, catching a glimpse of the water through the trees. “The boat is right there. We’re nearly safe. My brave girls. We can do it.”
A bullet hits my right shoulder just as we burst free of the trees. Then another one hits my side, missing Ofelia by inches.
I stumble, but I can see the inflatable coming toward us. My arms tighten around Ofelia, and I will my grip to hold long enough to get her there.
You can make it.
“Papa!” Ofelia’s face is stricken.
“It’s okay, baby. We’re nearly there now.” I stagger down to the mangrove shoreline, my feet sinking into the mud. My arm is losing strength rapidly, blood is pumping from my side, and I can feel Ofelia slipping from my grasp.
“Put me down,” she says, struggling in my grip. “You can’t hold me. He’s hurt!” she screams at the oncoming boat. “Help us!”
But I already know it’s too late. The men are bursting through the trees behind us, bullets hitting the water as they take aim at the boat, and there’s a chopper coming in hard above, machine gun pointing lethally from the open door.
“Get down.” I pull Ofelia and Masha to the mud, covering them with my body.
“Papa,” Masha whimpers beneath me.
“It’s okay, myshka ,” I say, cradling her head with my hand, my lips in her hair, wincing at my own lie. There’s nothing okay about this. About any of it. “ Ya lyublyu vas, moi krasivyye devochki ,” I whisper against her head. I love you, my beautiful girls.
Then I hear the screams behind me, and like some kind of miracle, I realize the chopper isn’t shooting at us.
“Who the fuck is in that chopper?” I hear Dimitry roar behind me, and I close my eyes in relief.
I turn my head to find him frowning up at the chopper, just as the inflatable boat pulls in before me. To my utter horror, it’s Mickey who leaps out, white-faced and intent, machine gun in hand. He takes aim at the shoreline, and I hear a cry of pain as his bullet finds a target, then he is down in the mud beside us.
“Fucking help them!” he bellows at the men behind him. They leap from the boat and start shooting at the men chasing us.
I stare up at the chopper, trying to work out what the fuck is going on. “Get your sisters into the boat,” I growl at Mickey. There’ll be time to kick his ass later. Right now I just need to know the girls are safe.
A bullet hits the chopper, and it banks right, veering away from us.
Suddenly there are more men pouring from the trees off to our left. Dimitry’s face beside me grows grim as he kneels and takes aim. I roll onto my belly and pick up my rifle, reloading with a sinking heart.
Too many. There are too many of them coming for us.
Then, to my surprise, two of the black clad militia men chasing us fall, shot by the newcomers on our left.
“Wait!”
I hold up my hand, squinting in confusion as a blood-spatteredAlexei Petrovsky stumbles from the trees down toward us. His hands are still zip tied behind his back,his lone eye glittering, mouth a hard line. “Don’t shoot!” he yells at me. “They’re mine!”
I stare at him in astonishment. “They’re fucking what now?”
“Fuck that.” Dimitry’s finger is already tightening on the trigger. “We only need his fingerprints, right?”
“No!” Ofelia’s cry is so heartrending it makes me turn around in shock. She is struggling to climb out of the boat, her face contorted with some emotion I don’t understand.
“Papa, no!” Masha is screaming, tears running down her face, fighting against Mickey’s grasp. “Don’t hurt Lexi!”
Alexei hits the mud near us and stumbles, falling to his knees. “Help them!” he rasps at the men on either side of him. “Get those girls out of here now!”
For once, I have no idea what to do.
What in the fucking Stockholm syndrome is going on?
One of his men cuts Alexei’s ties and hands him a gun. That makes my decision a lot easier. I aim straight between the fucker’s eyes.
“Don’t do it, Roman.” This time it’s Mickey who speaks, his voice low and controlled. “He’s on our side.”
I struggle to my feet. Mak’s team is pouring through the trees, joining the others from the left, and the last of the black-clad militia chasing us are falling or running away.
“This mudak almost killed your sisters.” I glare at Alexei as I speak to Mickey. “He took a fucking knife to them. Give me one goddamn reason he doesn’t die right now.”
“No!” Ofelia is sobbing. “Alexei helped us. He protected us.”
Masha pulls out of her brother’s grip and plows through the mud, throwing herself at Alexei’s knees. “You can’t hurt him! Lexi is our friend! ”
Alexei doesn’t say a word, just lifts Masha up and pushes straight past me, thrusting her back into the boat. Ofelia is trying to clamber out of it. “Get in,” he says roughly.
“No!” She’s crying, clinging to Alexei like he’s some kind of life buoy. “Not without you!”
“I’m fine.” He heaves her into the boat.
I’m not.
I’m about ready to kill anything, just to cut through my confusion.
Alexei raises his gun, and for the second time, my finger tightens on the trigger. Then he takes two measured, precise shots. Two men I didn’t notice fall to the ground, right on the tree line. From their position, they had a direct shot at me.
Another moment, and I’d have been dead.
“Go,” Alexei orders his men on the shoreline curtly. “You know where to wait for me.”
They melt back into the trees. In the distance, I can hear sirens wailing. Clearly our little encounter has drawn the attention of local law enforcement.
“I’ll explain later,” Mickey says to me. “Get in. We need to get out of here.” He nods at Alexei. “You, too.”
I glare at Mickey as I climb into the inflatable. “You better be fucking right about this.”
“I am.” He helps me into the boat. “Mak’s team has Orlov. He’ll be at the warehouse when we get there.”
“Well, that’s one bullet I get to use, at least.” I wipe the blood from my face, my gun still trained on Alexei as we pull away from the shore.
“No.” Alexei Petrovsky gives me a death stare that could freeze hot tarmac. “Vilnus Orlov is mine.”
I stare at him in absolute disbelief. This bastard has held my daughters captive for the past week. He’s sitting in my boat with half a dozen guns trained on him. He’s leaking blood from multiple bullet wounds, he can’t have more than one bullet left—and now he’s trying to give me orders?
“You two can argue about this later,” Mickey interrupts before I have a chance to argue. “Right now you have bigger things to worry about.”
We both turn to him, frowning.
“It’s Fedorov.” Mickey meets my gaze, his face grim. “He’s in London.”