Chapter 37
CASSIAN
The bruise on my jaw throbs every time I open my mouth to give orders.
Julian hit me hard enough that I tasted blood for twenty minutes after leaving the estate. Now I’m standing in my warehouse with a swelling face and seventeen men waiting for instructions on how to find Aurelia before the Petrovs kill her.
Declan’s on three phones at once. Coordinating surveillance teams, gathering intelligence, mapping every Petrov property in the city. Maps cover every surface. Red pins mark locations. Blue pins mark our people watching those locations.
“Southeast industrial district,” Declan says into one phone. “Two buildings match the profile. Get eyes on both and report back.” He switches lines. “I don’t care if it’s a residential neighborhood. If the Petrovs own it, I want it watched.”
I’m marking another location on the main map when Marcus walks in.
“Anything?” I ask.
“Maybe. Contact in Brighton Beach says there’s unusual activity at a warehouse on Jefferson Street. Multiple vehicles arriving in the last hour. Heavy security.”
“How heavy?”
“Eight men visible. Could be more inside.”
Eight men for a warehouse that normally runs with two guards overnight. They’re protecting assets.
“Get a team there. I want real-time updates on everyone going in or out.”
Marcus leaves to coordinate it.
My phone rings. One of our informants who works cleanup for the Petrovs.
“What do you have?” I answer.
“They brought in medical supplies to the Jefferson location. Bandages, antiseptic, pain medication.”
Medical supplies mean someone’s hurt. Someone they want to keep alive long enough to get information from.
“When?”
“Forty minutes ago.”
“Who signed for the delivery?”
“Viktor himself. He’s on site.”
Viktor Petrov. The one running the operation. The one who wants revenge for his nephew.
“Anything else?”
“The delivery guy said he heard screaming when they opened the loading bay. Female. Then Viktor told him to leave immediately.”
My hand clenches around the phone hard enough that the case cracks. “Keep me updated if anything changes.” I hang up and add the information to the board. Jefferson Street. Viktor on site. Medical supplies. Screaming.
Aurelia’s there. And they’re hurting her.
Declan ends his calls and walks over. “Jefferson Street is looking more likely. Three independent sources confirming increased activity.”
“Pull surveillance from the other locations. Focus everything on Jefferson.”
“If we’re wrong—”
“We’re not. That’s where she is.”
He starts making calls to redirect teams.
I’m studying the map when my office door opens and Julian walks in. Alone. No security. Just him and the gun I can see under his jacket.
He says, “You’re mobilizing for an assault on Petrov property.”
“Yes.”
“Without coordinating with me. Without involving Vance resources. Like this is your operation.”
“It is my operation. She’s there because of me. I’m the one getting her out.”
Julian crosses the room. Stops close enough that I can see the exhaustion in his eyes, the fear he’s trying to hide behind anger. “So you can get yourself killed trying to play hero? So my nephews can lose both parents in one night?”
“I’m not getting killed. I’m getting her back.”
“You don’t know that. The Petrovs are expecting you. They took her to draw you out. This is a trap and you’re walking straight into it.”
“I know it’s a trap. I’m walking in anyway.”
Julian’s hands clench into fists. For a second I think he’s going to hit me again.
Instead he turns and walks to the window overlooking the warehouse floor.
“My people can handle this,” he says. “We have resources. Training. Experience with extractions. You stay out of it and I’ll bring my sister home. ”
“No.”
He spins around. “This isn’t negotiable.”
“You’re right. It’s not. I’m going in whether you help or not.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
“Probably. But she’s down there being tortured because she won’t give them my name. Because she’s protecting me even though it’s costing her everything. I owe her more than sitting here while you handle it.”
Julian’s jaw works. He wants to argue. Wants to tell me to leave again. But he can’t, because he knows I won’t listen.
Declan interrupts us. “We have audio,” he says.
“From where?”
“Jefferson warehouse. One of our guys got a directional mic close enough to pick up sound from the basement level.”
My blood goes cold. “And?”
“You need to hear this.”
He puts it on speaker. Static at first. Then voices. Male. Russian accents. Asking questions I can’t make out clearly. Then there’s a scream from a woman, but it cuts off abruptly, and more Russian voices follow. Then silence. Declan ends the recording.
I can’t move, can’t think past the sound of Aurelia screaming.
Julian’s face has gone white. “When was that recorded?”
“Fifteen minutes ago,” Declan says quietly.
“Play it again.”
“Julian—”
“Play it again!”
Declan plays it. The screaming fills the office. Julian listens with his eyes closed, hands gripping the edge of my desk so hard his knuckles go white.
When it ends, he’s shaking. “That’s my sister,” he says.
Voice hoarse. “That’s Aurelia and they’re torturing her and I’m standing here arguing with you instead of getting her out.
” He pulls out his phone. Makes a call. “It’s me.
I need everything we have on Petrov operations.
Jefferson Street specifically.” He listens.
“I don’t care about protocol. Send it now. All of it.”
He hangs up and looks at me. “My people have detailed intelligence on that warehouse. Building schematics, guard rotations, security weaknesses. You’ll have it in five minutes.”
“Why?”
“Because my anger won’t save her. Because every second we waste, they’re hurting her more. Because you’re right and I hate that you’re right but you are.” He moves closer. “We work together. Your resources and mine. Coordinated assault. We get her out and then we end the Petrovs permanently.”
“Agreed.”
“But if she dies because you do something stupid—”
“She won’t. We’re bringing her home tonight.”
Julian’s phone buzzes. He checks it, then forwards the files to Declan’s tablet. “Building layout. Guard positions. Everything we have.”
Declan pulls up the files and spreads them across the table. The intelligence is detailed. Every entry point marked. Security camera positions. Guard rotation schedules down to the minute.
“How did you get this?” I ask.
“We’ve had people inside Petrov operations for eighteen months. Low-level positions. They report back weekly.” Julian taps the screen. “Southeast basement corner. That’s where they hold people for interrogation.”
The same location the audio came from.
“Guard count?” Declan asks.
“Normally six. But with the increased activity tonight, assume twelve minimum.”
“We bring twenty. Overwhelming force.”
Julian nods. “My team takes the front entrance. Makes noise. Draws their attention. Your team goes through the side while they’re focused on us.”
“What about extraction? If she can’t walk—”
“Then we carry her. But we’re not leaving without her.”
Declan’s coordinating both teams now. Assigning positions. Planning timing down to the second. Julian’s people arrive within ten minutes. Eight men, all armed, all moving with precision. Combined with my people, we have twenty-two for the assault.
“Equipment check in five minutes,” Declan calls out. “We move in thirty.”
Julian and I end up at the same table reviewing the final approach.
“If this goes wrong—” he starts.
“It won’t.”
“But if it does. If we get her out and she’s—” He can’t finish the sentence.
“Then we deal with it. But right now we focus on getting to her.”
He nods. Pulls something from his pocket. A photo. Aurelia with the twins, all three of them laughing at the park. “That trip to the park was the first time in months she looked actually happy. Because of you. Because they finally had their father.”
“Julian—”
“I blamed you for everything. Still do, partially. But she loves you. I can see it even if she hasn’t said it. And those boys need both of you.” He puts the photo away. “So don’t get yourself killed trying to be a hero. Get in, get her out, come back alive.”
“I will.”
Equipment checks happen fast. Weapons loaded, tactical gear secured, radios tested. Both teams ready to move.
At nine forty-five, we load into vehicles. Three SUVs. Black. Stolen plates. They’ll be abandoned and stripped after the extraction.
I’m in the lead vehicle with Declan and Marcus. Julian’s behind us with his team. Third vehicle holds backup and the medic we brought in case Aurelia needs immediate treatment.
The drive to the industrial district takes twelve minutes through light traffic. Nobody speaks. Just engines and the occasional click of weapons being checked one more time.
My jaw still throbs where Julian hit me. Probably will for days.
Worth it if we get her back.
We’re five minutes out when Declan’s phone buzzes. “Contact at the warehouse reports movement,” he says. “Transfer vehicles just arrived. They’re preparing to move her.”
“How long do we have?”
“Ten minutes. Maybe less.”
I key the radio. “All teams, we’re going in hot. No time for stealth. They’re moving her and we intercept now.”
The vehicles accelerate.
The warehouse appears ahead. Dark industrial building. Chain link fence. Minimal lighting. Perfect place to disappear someone.
We’re getting her back.
The SUVs pull up two blocks away. Everyone exits fast, moving into assault formation. Julian’s team breaks left toward the front entrance. Mine goes right toward the side.
I check my weapon one more time. Declan does the same beside me.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Let’s go get her.”
We move on the warehouse.