Chapter 30 #2
I just hope the others are okay. This is an unusual SUV, with the two back rows facing each other.
Two more men climb in, sitting in the middle row that faces us, before the door is slammed shut and the SUV starts to move.
I don’t pay attention to the gunshots ringing out around us.
All I can do is stare at one of the men who’s joined us, the one with a bandage wrapped around his arm and staring daggers at me. Ivan.
He just stares at me silently as the sound of bullets hitting the side of the vehicle starts to fade. I glance at the other man and try not to let the surprise show on my face.
Sergei. He’s the one who gave me the key to Jagger’s cuffs and aided our escape. Would he help me again? He looks angry, but I don’t know if it’s at me, or for me. I never knew why he helped me in the first place.
Turning away, I look out the window and realize we’re nearing the end of the street. I swallow the lump in my throat as we round the corner and leave my men behind. I hope they’re all okay.
My eyes move back to Ivan, the man behind all my problems. If he gets me back to his house, it’s going to take the guys a while to infiltrate and get me out. I know they will, but we hadn’t wanted to attack Ivan there because we knew how difficult it would be.
Even though I’m surrounded by men in this SUV, my best chance of escape is now, before we get back to his house.
I don’t see any other vehicles following or ahead of us.
I have one knife left, strapped to my ankle under my pants.
I can’t reach for it right now; they’d notice before I even get my pant leg pulled up.
I need to be smart about this. I glance at the door beside me and wonder if I can open it and roll out. It could be my best chance to get away. If I couldn’t kill Ivan, running would be the next best choice.
“I must say, I’m a little surprised to see you’re still in Russia,” Ivan finally says. “I thought you’d be back in the States by now.”
“I had some unfinished business to attend to,” I tell him with narrowed eyes, which only makes him grin.
“Ah, I feel honored, kukolka.” I hate when he calls me little doll; it feels condescending and makes me want to stab him that much more.
We turn another corner, and I recognize the area as a busier part of Moscow. If I were going to try to run, this would be the place to do it. I could blend in, and he probably wouldn’t risk shooting with so many people around.
Luck is on my side as we start to slow for a red light. I don’t waste my chance, grabbing the handle and shoving the door open.
“Grab her!” Ivan yells as I throw myself out of the vehicle, landing awkwardly on my shoulder. I ignore the pain, pushing to my feet as I run across the street and onto the sidewalk.
There are a handful of people around, but I wouldn't call it busy. I just hope it’s enough.
I glance back and see Sergei blocking the door I just exited, somehow making it look like he lost his balance.
Is he helping me again? Suddenly, Viktor shoves him out of the way and makes a dash for me. I yelp in surprise, then start running.
Turning down the first street I find, I curse myself when I see it’s deserted, but I don’t have time to turn back when he’s right on my heels. I move to cut across the street as a vehicle screeches to a stop in front of me. I slam my hands against it, then quickly move around it as I keep running.
Somehow, through a series of quick turns, I seem to lose Viktor, only slowing to catch my breath when I reach the end of a street that connects back to the main one. I pull my knife free, feeling better now that I’m finally armed, as I press my back to the brick wall and take a few deep breaths.
I hear loud footsteps right before Viktor appears in front of me, looking angry as hell. “Found you,” he says with an evil glint in his eyes. He reaches for me just as I raise my knife high, and he walks right into it. His eyes widen in surprise as it sinks into the middle of his neck.
He stumbles back, taking my knife with him as he goes.
He grabs the handle and yanks it out, making his blood spray all over me, and I wince as I take a step backward, nausea rolling in my stomach.
The knife drops from his hand, clanking against the sidewalk as he clutches his neck.
Blood pours down his front as he sinks to his knees, the red liquid gargling out of his mouth until he finally collapses backward, dead.
I pant heavily, not believing I just did that, and take a second to breathe before I remind myself I’m not out of danger yet. I take his holstered gun and check the chamber, finding it full.
Nodding to myself that I can do this. I can stay hidden until the guys find me.
I peek around the side of the building, and not seeing any sign of Ivan or the SUV, I step out. I’ve taken only a couple of steps before someone screams, pointing at me as they run away. I glance down. “Right, I’m covered in blood and holding a gun. This doesn’t look good.”
I curse myself for not thinking this through, blaming the fist to my head for such a stupid mistake. I turn back around, ready to go back down the empty street where Viktor is, but stop in my tracks.
All the screaming and people running away have given away my location.
Ivan stands a mere fifteen feet in front of me, a grin on his face like he knows he’s won.
His SUV screeches to a stop beside him, and the driver and Sergei step out, the former pointing a gun in my direction, although he’s smart enough to keep it concealed by the vehicle.
“Come on now, Wren. It’s time to go,” Ivan says, gesturing to the SUV.
I glance at Sergei and see his free hand clench into a fist at his side.
I have no idea what this guy’s deal is. There’s no way he’s secretly a good guy; he’s seen too much without taking action for that to be true.
But there must be a part of him that doesn’t agree with some of the things Ivan does. At least when it comes to me.
Suddenly, he lifts his gun, pointing it at Ivan’s head, but the driver notices. He lets out a shout of warning as Ivan turns in time to see the driver shove Sergei’s gun arm to the side, just as he pulls the trigger, but the bullet hits the road.
The driver, who turns out to have skills far beyond a chauffeur, punches Sergei and pulls the gun from him, tossing it into the car before turning his own gun on him as he holds him face down against the SUV.
“Sergei?” Ivan says in angry disbelief. “You betray me? For her?”
“I have been at your side for years,” Sergei says before turning his head to spit some blood on the ground. “I have supported every decision you’ve made. But you went too far when you whipped her.”
I listen in my own disbelief. Of all the bad shit Ivan’s done, whipping me is what pushed one of his right-hand men over the edge?
“She needed to learn. As do you, it seems.” Ivan looks at the driver and nods. Before I can blink, he pulls the trigger and fires a deadly blow into the back of Sergei’s head before tossing his body aside.
Ivan looks at me and grins, and suddenly a deep sense of regret fills me. That man died trying to protect me, and it got him killed. I should have used that moment to run, but I was so caught up in what was happening that I was frozen to the spot.
And now my chance is gone as the driver points his weapon back at me, looking completely undisturbed by the life he just took.
“Shall we?” Ivan asks me, gesturing to the SUV once again.
My hand tightens on the gun. I didn’t get this far just to willingly get back into the car with him.
“No,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance.
He glances down at the gun I’m holding by my side and grins, as if he sees no threat here. “What do you plan to do with that?” he asks mockingly. “Shoot me?”
“Yes,” I answer as I lift the gun and take the shot. I half expect to hit the driver, ten feet to his right, or maybe his leg, but as blood starts to trail down his chest, both our eyes widen. I shot him right in the heart.
I can vaguely hear women screaming and sirens blaring, but all I can do is watch as Ivan places a hand over the wound, then holds up his blood-covered fingers, as if not understanding what he’s seeing.
His wide eyes meet mine, and I smirk. “Gotcha,” I tell him, just before his eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground.
The driver stares down at Ivan in shock, looks at me, then jumps back into the vehicle and takes off.
I slowly move forward, needing to make sure he’s finally dead.
Dark red blood stains the sidewalk around him, a line of it pooling where a clump of snow sits by the edge of the road, making it stand out even more.
I kick his foot, and it flops to the side. His eyes are open, staring blankly up at the sky, and I finally let out a deep sigh. He’s finally dead. I did it.
All at once, the sounds around me flood in, as if I’d been blocking them out before now. First, I hear the screaming and glance around, seeing people huddled in doorways across the street, trembling as they stare at me with wide eyes.
Next, the sound of a siren grows closer, and I glance down the street, seeing the blue and red flashing lights moving toward me. Good, the cops are here.
I realize it’s actually four cop cars, as they skid to a stop as near as they can get, moving around the other few vehicles on the road.
Then I hear them.
“Wren!” I turn my head and see Pete running full speed down the sidewalk toward me with the others hot on his heels.
“Peter!” I yell, reaching out toward him even though he’s still over a hundred feet away.
“Drop the weapon!” someone yells in Russian to my left, and I turn, gasping when I see all the cops standing there with their guns pointed at me.
I look at my hand and realize what this must look like. I’m standing over a dead body, covered in blood and holding a gun. The part that worries me is that it is exactly what it looks like. I just killed two men in public. Hopefully, when they realize who I just killed, they’ll understand.
But not wanting to get shot, I slowly bend down and place the gun on the sidewalk.
“Hands up!” The officer yells in Russian as he steps toward me. I raise my arms and glance toward Pete, who’s covered half the distance between us now, his eyes wide in alarm as he takes in the situation.
The officer reaches me and roughly grabs my wrist and spins me around, cuffing my hands behind my back before telling me I’m under arrest.
“Let her go!” Pete yells, closing in. The other cops move between us, aiming their guns at Pete.
“Stop!” They yell in Russian.
“Stop, Pete!” I yell, translating for him. “They’ll shoot you!”
Elias catches up to him and holds him back, whispering to him quickly while his eyes bore into me. He takes in my appearance as anger fills his face.
“We’ll get you out,” Elias yells over the wall of cops.
“I know!” I yell back as I’m escorted to the police car.
“We’ll clear it all up and have you home in no time!” Elias yells as the door opens. I’m placed in the backseat, and the door is slammed shut.
The cops who are aiming their weapons at them slowly lower them when they realize they aren’t going to interject.
Elias steps forward, speaking quickly as he gestures toward Ivan and me, speaking animatedly and angrily.
I can’t hear what he says through the closed door, and suddenly I’m moving as the car starts down the road.
I turn so I can watch them as long as possible.
Elias seems to be yelling louder as the other four watch me, looking as helpless as I feel. At least I’m safe, and Ivan is gone.
The mission might not have gone as planned, but at least we accomplished what we set out to do. Ivan is dead. As soon as the cops understand what happened, they’ll let me go, and all we’ll have left to do is find Ivan’s list of associates.
Easy peasy.