15. Asshole Supreme
15 ASSHOLE SUPREME
Twenty minutes earlier
Lanie
It wasn’t until we were joined by the second SUV that true fear began to penetrate the calm I’d created in my mind. None of it had seemed real. At times, it was almost like I was hovering above the scene, watching it happen to someone else. Then we turned off the main road and reality––that nasty bitch––slapped me in the face. Zak was taking me to the man who’d ordered a hit on me. No, not Zak…Vlaschenko. Using his first name made him too familiar. I had to separate myself from the man so when the opportunity presented itself, I wouldn’t feel bad about kicking his ass before I arrested him.
“I lied to you.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. “Technically, I just didn’t give you the whole truth.”
“Spit it out, Vlaschenko. I’m getting the impression we’re close to our destination.”
“We’re back to using last names, huh?” I cocked my head to the side, pursing my lips. “Right. Bolotov took something of mine. I want it back.”
Thievery among thieves. What a novel concept. All of this over some stolen property? These men had more money than either could spend in two lifetimes. Why not just replace whatever it was and move the hell on. Unless it was something irreplaceable.
“What’d he take?”
“You’re asking the wrong question, Alaina.”
Definitely irreplaceable.
I rephrased. “ Who’d he take, Zakhar?”
Dipping his chin, the hard lines around his eyes softened a touch. “Prudence. My assistant.”
“You’re risking jail time for a member of your staff? I don’t buy it.” Then it hit me. My eyes widened. “You’re in love with her.”
“Nyet.”
“No? I call bullshit.”
“Boss.” The driver slowed the vehicle to a stop and my pulse began to gallop in my veins. “We’re here.”
“Spasibo, Emil.” He straightened his gray silk tie, then turned to me. “I’m afraid this is where our friendship ends, Agent Biggs.”
“We were never friends, Zakhar.”
“Perhaps one day, when this is all over, that will change.”
“Not likely,” I huffed, holding up my cuffed hands.
For a brief second, it almost looked like he was considering taking them off. Then our doors swung open and the moment was gone, along with my chances of convincing him to wait for my team. He’d made his decision, wrong or right. I can’t even say I blamed him. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for Noah.
My captor rounded the back of the SUV just as I slid off the seat, momentum pitching me forward. Seconds before I face-planted onto the gravel, his arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me backward in his hard body. He released me almost as quickly as he’d helped me. Steadying myself, I took a moment to take in my surroundings. There were three other dark-colored SUVs parked outside of an enormous steel warehouse. Two men with assault rifles paced back and forth in front of what I presumed was the entrance. I was about to ask where we were when the massive man who opened my door spat at my feet.
“Cyka.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why he thought I was a bitch though. Did I ask to get agent-napped? No. Did I make the SUV two feet too tall for the vertically challenged? Also, no. He was the jackass who stood by while a woman almost cracked her head open. What kind of a jerk does that?
“Who are you?” Zakhar held up a hand. “Never mind. I’ll deal with you later. Kas?”
A blond god stalked toward us from the other vehicle, where two other equally handsome men stood. He was dressed only slightly less casually than Zak, wearing dark denim, a long-sleeve baby-blue shirt rolled once at the wrist, and a charcoal suit vest. His hair was buzzed on the sides and spiked on top.
“Da?”
“You’re on Agent Biggs. Guard her like you would your sister’s virginity.”
Kas tapped two fingers on his chest above his heart. “With my life.”
“Once we walk through those doors, Alaina, do not speak and stay behind me at all times. Kasimir will take a bullet for you, but I’d rather not lose my best friend today. Let’s go. ”
I started to follow him toward the warehouse, however a strong hand cupping my elbow stopped me in my tracks.
“Zakhar might be dangerous when he needs to be, but Machail is deadly because he wants to be.” Kas kept me in his grasp and began walking. “The Bratva has worn out its usefulness under the current leadership.”
“Taking a man like Bolotov down won’t make a difference in the long run. Cut off the head of a snake, another takes its place.”
“Who said anything about cutting? I’m partial to fire.” He swung his arm out in front of him at the entryway. “After you, Agent Biggs.”
Every bit of my bravado stayed with the SUVs outside when we crossed the threshold. For the first time in the last hour or so, I knew actual fear, but it wasn’t for me. It was for the beautiful brunette, gagged and bound to a metal chair, in the center of the room. Blood trickled from a cut along her hairline, and the bruises on her face showed the extent to which they’d worked her over. Her tear-filled eyes stared at Zakhar in relief, but his rage-filled gaze was focused on the man directly behind her. Actually, there were six men, however, only one who had the audacity to smile. I recognized him immediately from the pictures the DEA had of him.
Machail Bolotov, asshole supreme.
I’d heard the stories. He was a ruthless, heartless bastard who didn’t care about anyone but himself and the power he held. Looking at the scene in front of me, I believed every word. The woman was an innocent pawn in a game, yet he’d beaten her as if she were a soldier in their Bratva war.
“I brought the Fed, Machail. Now you need to hold up your end of the bargain. Release Miss Turner.”
Bolotov prowled forward, leaning over the back of the chair, his head pressed up against the woman’s. “The deal has changed, Zakhar. I’ve become rather fond of your little assistant.” He gripped her neck with his meaty hand, then licked up the side of her bloody face.
“Fuck,” Kas muttered under his breath, shifting slightly in front of me.
Everything changed when I heard her cry out behind the filthy rag shoved in her mouth. Kicking Vlaschenko's ass was no longer my priority, neither was seeing him rot behind bars. I’d do everything in my power to get Prudence Turner out of this hellhole, even if it meant Noah would have to make conjugal visits to the Lakin Correctional Center for the next eighteen years. Because if Zak didn’t kill Bolotov, I might.
A deep growl echoed through the large space right as Zak drew his weapon, aiming it at the man taunting him. Seconds later, four more armed men entered the mix from somewhere behind Machail. It was obvious from where they aimed their guns, they were Zak’s guys. Suddenly the playing field was severely unmatched, ten on six. Machail knew it, which is why he and his guards began creeping toward the side exit, leaving Pru out in the open.
“You’re a coward and dead man, Machail.” The other man laughed.
Meanwhile, Zakhar inched forward, keeping his gun level and his eye on the mafia leader, while closing the gap between himself and his girl. His guards formed a semi-circle around him, including Kas who was edging backward with one hand on me, the other still wrapped around his pistol. We were less than a foot away from Prudence when he shoved a small key in the palm of my hand.
“Get her out of here, Agent Biggs.” He stood sentry as I quickly removed the handcuffs, then scurried to untie the ropes around her wrists and ankles. Her arms fell limply at her sides the moment they were free. She was weak from the beating and from being tied up for God knew how long. Moving her wouldn’t be easy, especially without a way to protect us both.
“Give me a gun.”
It was a long shot. Then again, maybe not.
Stooping down, he lifted his pant leg, retrieving a black-and-silver Ruger from his ankle holster. Eyes narrowed, he started to hand it to me, then pulled it back. Indecision marred his features until she whimpered his name.
“Kasimir.”
“Fuck.” Flipping it around, he gave it to me by the handle. “If you shoot me, I’m gonna be pissed. Now go.”
I ignored him and bent at the waist. “Hey, Prudence. I’m Special Agent Alaina Biggs with the FBI. You can call me Lanie. This is gonna suck, especially since I know you’re hurting, but we need to move, and we need to do it before your boyfriend starts shooting up the place.”
My pulse skyrocketed as Zakhar began yelling in Russian. They were escalating. We needed to move.
“He’s my boss, not my boyfriend.”
“Not for long, honey. Can you walk?”
“My leg is pretty sore, but I’ll do my best. And it’s Pru.”
I noticed the damage when I undid the ropes. Both legs had a series of cuts along the shin, knife-made if I had to guess, but the right leg was swollen and bright red. It was a worry for another time, hopefully, in the not too distant future when my team showed up to save our asses.
“Put your arm around my shoulder. I’ll help you.” She sucked in a sharp breath, leaning heavily against me as she stood. “I’ve got a bottle of champagne with your name on it when we get out of here, Pru. ”
“Why. Champagne?” She panted in between each pain-filled step we took.
“It makes my brain foggy and I figured after today, you’d want the same.”
“I’m gonna need two bottles.”
“I’ll buy you a case.”
The first gunshot rang out when we were still a hundred yards from the nearest exit. It was followed immediately by a barrage of others. I didn’t think, just reacted. Spinning, I fired off two rounds, the first hitting Michail in the shoulder while dragging a shell-shocked Pru behind a nearby concrete pillar. It was the only thing, other than a stack of crates along the far wall, to hide behind. Shoving her to the ground, I raised the gun to take another shot when I saw Zak and Machail facing off. The rest of Zak’s men had fallen back, essentially forming a wall of protection between us and the gunfire.
“Fuck you, Vlaschenko. I should have killed you when I killed your parents,” Machail yelled, then pulled the trigger.
Zakhar and I returned fire at the same time, one of the bullets hitting Bolotov between the eyes. Then I heard the best words of my life.
“FBI. Drop your weapons!”
Noah
Five federal agents and a local Huntington detective take on twelve Russian Bratva members.
Sounded like a headline for the six o’clock news or a really bad punchline. In reality it was worse. So much worse. Bullets were flying, blood was spilling, and my Lanie was in the middle of it all, gun in hand. My relief at seeing her alive and unharmed was short-lived, considering World War III was happening around her.
“FBI. Drop your weapons!” Duncan yelled.
Her hazel eyes locked with mine, then flicked to the five men working their way toward the exit. “Those are Machail’s men.” She pointed.
No sooner had the words left her mouth, when an explosion rocked the opposite side of the warehouse, sending shards of glass and other debris flying through the air. The gunfire ceased, only to be replaced by coughing as thick black smoke quickly filled the room. I could barely see shit, but I ran toward where I’d seen her last.
“Lanie,” I yelled.
“Here.”
She grabbed my hand, tugging me down to a crouch. The air was clear enough closer to the floor to see her face, though not much else.
“Fuck. Are you hurt?” I ran my fingers up and down her body, feeling for any injuries.
“I’m fine.”
Keaton approached; the rest of our team with him as Koen used the flashlight on his phone to guide their way.
“We need to get the hell out of here,” Waverly said.
“Pru can’t walk any farther.” Lanie turned and that’s when I noticed the petite woman curled up on the floor next to her. “Someone needs to carry her.”
“I’ve got her.”
A silhouette emerged from the smoke, followed by several more. All of their hands were raised in surrender, even before multiple guns slid from their holsters.
“No.” Lanie stood up, arms spread wide, putting her body between us and Zakhar Vlaschenko. That’s one, Little Lamb. “They aren’t the bad guys here. Well, not completely.”
“Lanie.” Waverly shook her head. “Can we get the hell out of the burning building first? Then we can discuss everything else.”
“Uh, guys?” Koen was backing slowly away from a stack of crates. “I found some of the C-4 the DEA lost.”
“Yeah?” I questioned.
“It’s attached to another bomb, set to detonate in five minutes.”
“Shit. Everyone out. Now,” Duncan ordered.
Zakhar leaned over, scooping up the woman off the floor while I grabbed Lanie's hand, and we ran for the second time.
I really fucking hated explosives.
“It’s not that simple. He kidnapped a federal officer.”
Lanie and Waverly were in a standoff and had been most of the morning. We’d spent the majority of the night explaining our actions to a room full of highly pissed-off government officials. Zakhar and his men were initially placed into custody at the scene, then later released. Up to this point, no official arrests had been made, and with the amount of money and influence he had, there probably wouldn’t be. That didn’t mean Waverly wouldn’t try.
“I’m fully aware, since I’m the federal officer in question.”
“Then you know he can’t just get away with it.”
I didn’t know whose side I was supposed to be on. A few hours ago, it would have been my RAC’s without a doubt. Now though, after watching Vlaschenko growl at the doctors and refuse to leave Miss Turner’s side since we arrived at the hospital, I was vacillating. He was in love. I knew the symptoms well.
“That man in there risked everything to save Pru. I will not be a party to his prosecution.”
“What are you saying?” Waverly crossed her arms over her chest.
“No victim. No crime.” Lanie matched her pose
“Is this really the hill you wanna die on?”
No response.
“Fine, but if he turns out to be a mass murderer, that shit’s on you.” Waverly spun on her heel, then called out as she made her way down the hallway. “Duncan’s in charge. I’ll be out of the country for the next three weeks.”
“Which one did you decide on, Waverly?”
“Curacao.” She waved a hand in the air.
“It’s finally over.” Lanie fell against my chest.
Three dead, including Machail Bolotov, which meant it was indeed over. His other three goons got away, but according to Zakhar, they didn’t pose a threat. Besides some minor cuts and burns, the only other injury was to Prudence. Four broken ribs, too many lacerations and bruises to count, but the worst was a nasty infection in her leg. The doctor said it would take weeks of high-dose antibiotics and even then he couldn’t be certain if it would heal. She had a long road ahead, which didn’t even count the amount of time it would take for her to recover emotionally. If she ever did. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be alone though.
“You ready to go home, Darlin’?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Pulling out my phone, I sent a text to Koen and Keaton.
Me: Can we catch a ride with one of you?
Koen: Hell yes. I need outta this room.
Me: Is everything okay with the baby?
Keaton: Ryder’s fine. Henley’s just feeding him.
Me: And that’s a problem why?
Koen: She’s breastfeeding, man.
Keaton: It’s completely natural. Stop being a child.
Koen: So you’re okay with me seeing Henley’s boobs?
Me: You’re not supposed to stare, Koen.
Koen: I’m not. I put a blanket over my head.
Keaton: You look like an idiot.
Koen: Not cool, K. Warn a man next time.
I chuckled.
“What’s funny?”
“Henley’s feeding the baby.”
“Do nursing mother’s always make you laugh?”
“Koen’s in the room.”
I showed her the messages and she bent over laughing. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“Anytime.” We started walking toward the main exit. “You’re gonna tease him, aren’t you? ”
“Mercilessly,” she grinned.
“Before I forget, there’s a contractor coming to the house tomorrow.” I held the door open, letting her walk out in front of me.
“A contractor? For what?”
“Gotta knock down some trees and build a barn.”
“What?” She spun around, eyes wide.
“Whiskey and Smoke.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“How?”
“Your mom got Jill to sign the sale papers before she left for Arizona.”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”
“I’d do anything for you, Lanie. For our future.”
“If I didn’t already love you, this would have made me fall.”
I kissed her softly. “Good to know, Darlin’.”