Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alexander
The black convoy tore through the night, engines roaring as they shattered the suburban silence. I sat in the passenger seat, eyes locked on my phone screen—the red dot marking the abandoned slaughterhouse, marking where Anna was being held.
The distance was closing, but every second felt like an eternity. My fingers drummed against the armrest, a nervous habit. Images of what Anna might be enduring flashed through my mind, each one tearing at my heart.
"Five minutes out," Ivan's voice crackled through my earpiece.
"All teams in position." My voice was ice-cold and steady, but my grip on the gun was so tight my knuckles had turned white. "Remember, I want Marcus Warren alive. Everyone else—handle as you see fit."
"Copy that."
The convoy stopped a kilometer from the slaughterhouse, killing all lights. We melted into the darkness like ghosts, three elite teams moving to surround the target from different angles.
This was my handpicked crew, every man battle-tested. They understood what tonight meant—not just a rescue operation, but a final warning to anyone who dared challenge the Volkov family.
I pulled out my tablet, the screen displaying thermal imaging from our drone. The abandoned slaughterhouse lay exposed—seventeen heat signatures in the main hall, one isolated in the center. Anna.
My heart clenched. Even as just a blurry thermal image, I recognized that silhouette instantly. She was alive, but tied to a chair with six guards surrounding her.
The other ten were scattered throughout the building—two at second-floor windows as sentries, three at the main entrance, the rest on patrol.
"Alpha team through the east entrance, Bravo team takes the high ground, Charlie team with me through the front," I spoke into my earpiece, voice low and controlled. "Objective: rescue the hostage, eliminate all armed hostiles, capture Marcus Warren alive. Action commencing in three, two, one—"
A muffled explosion shattered the night's silence.
The east door blew open with surgical precision, Alpha team pouring through like black shadows. Almost simultaneously, I led Charlie team through the main entrance.
Gunfire erupted instantly, bullets carving deadly paths through the darkness.
I spearheaded the assault, my Glock moving like an extension of my body.
Years of training and countless firefights had refined my marksmanship to pure instinct.
The first kidnapper who rushed out never got his weapon up before my headshot dropped him.
Second, third—every bullet found its mark without waste.
"Sniper, northwest corner!" Bravo team's warning crackled through comms.
"Handled." Less than three seconds later, Bravo's sniper eliminated the threat.
My team moved like a coordinated wolf pack, precise and lethal. These kidnappers were outmatched—too slow, disorganized, like lambs to slaughter.
But I had no time to appreciate the efficiency. My focus held only one target—Anna.
Through a gap in the damaged wall, I spotted her. Even in the dim light, even with her face streaked with dirt and blood, I knew her instantly. She was alive, struggling against her restraints.
"Cover me!" I barked, charging toward Anna's position.
My team immediately laid down suppressing fire, neutralizing all potential threats. I advanced while firing, stepping over kidnapper corpses with each stride. Blood pooled across the concrete floor, the air thick with gunpowder and death.
A bald man suddenly lunged from the shadows, trying to use Anna as a human shield. He roughly grabbed her hair, attempting to haul her upright.
I watched Anna scream in pain, watched her neck forced back at an unnatural angle, watched the terror flood her eyes—in that instant, my control shattered completely.
My bullet obliterated his wrist, bone and flesh exploding under the impact. He shrieked and released her. The next second, another round punched through his chest, then a third, a fourth—I kept firing until his body was mangled beyond recognition, collapsing in a lifeless heap.
"Anna!" I called her name, my voice raw with desperation.
She looked up, surprise and disbelief flickering across her features. Even in this blood-soaked, smoke-filled hell, her gaze made my heart race.
I rushed to her side, dropping to one knee and using my knife to slice through her bonds. The coarse rope had chafed her pale skin raw, blood seeping from the abrasions. Seeing those marks felt like a blade twisting in my chest.
"Alexander..." Her voice was hoarse, but it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.
"Don't be afraid. I'm here." I pulled her roughly into my arms, shielding her with my body while scanning for remaining threats.
Her body trembled—from fear, from cold. I stripped off my jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, then held her close.
That's when my peripheral vision caught movement—a kidnapper crouched behind abandoned machinery, raising his weapon to target the defenseless Anna!
Time seemed to freeze.
I had no time to think, no time to calculate. My body reacted on pure instinct.
I tackled Anna to the ground, covering her completely with my body. Almost instantly, searing pain exploded through my left shoulder—the bullet tore through my back, shattering my shoulder blade before exiting through my chest.
Pain like molten metal made my vision blur immediately. I could hear Anna's terrified scream, feel warm blood streaming from the wound, soaking my clothes and dripping onto her. But I gritted my teeth, only allowing a grunt, refusing to collapse.
With my right hand, I raised my gun, aimed, and fired—one fluid motion.
A hole appeared in the kidnapper's forehead. His eyes widened in shock before he crumpled.
"Alexander!" Anna saw the blood cascading down my back and screamed in panic. "You're shot! You—"
"Shh." I pressed my hand gently over her mouth, voice weak but steady. "I'm okay."
But blood was flowing too fast. I could feel strength draining from my body. My vision grew hazier, the gunfire seeming to fade into the distance.
"Pakhan!" Ivan rushed over, his face going ashen at the sight of my wounds. "Medic! Now!"
"Marcus..." I managed to rasp. "Did we get him?"
"Over there." Ivan gestured toward the corner where several of my men restrained a disheveled middle-aged man—Marcus Warren. His face was contorted with terror, all his earlier arrogance evaporated.
"Good." I forced a smile, then looked down at the panicked Anna in my arms. "Don't cry... I promised to bring you home..."
"Don't talk!" Anna's tears fell like scattered pearls. She pressed her hands desperately against my shoulder wound, trying to stem the bleeding, but blood continued seeping between her fingers. "Where's the medic? Hurry! Save him!"
Her hands shook violently, her face painted with tears and blood. I wanted to wipe away her tears, but my arm felt impossibly heavy.
The medic quickly cut away my shirt, exposing the devastating chest wound. The bullet had entered from behind, pulverized my shoulder blade, and torn through to exit my chest—a gruesome sight. They worked frantically to control the bleeding and apply pressure bandages while establishing an IV line.
The anesthetic needle found my vein. Pain began to recede, but so did my consciousness. I could feel my heartbeat weakening, my breathing becoming labored.
Using my remaining strength, I pulled Anna tighter against me.
"I'm sorry..." I whispered against her ear. "For letting you get hurt... for putting you through this..."
"No, it was my fault," Anna sobbed, tears splashing onto my face. "I was wrong about you, about Tatyana... I shouldn't have left the manor, shouldn't have doubted you... If not for me, you wouldn't be hurt, you wouldn't—"
"Shh, stop." I managed to kiss her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. "You did nothing wrong... I failed to protect you... I let you down..."
"Alexander, please, don't close your eyes." Anna's voice shook with terror. "Look at me, keep looking at me. Sofia's still waiting for you—she's still running a fever, she needs you. I need you too... please, don't leave us..."
Sofia. My little princess. Still burning with fever, waiting with Yekaterina for mommy to return home.
I'd promised to bring her mother back. I couldn't break that promise.
I couldn't die.
That thought forced me to cling to consciousness. I gritted my teeth, summoning every ounce of willpower to keep my eyes open, focused on Anna's tear-streaked face.
"I won't die," my voice barely above a whisper. "I still need to marry you... then we'll watch Sofia grow up together... see her start school... see her wedding day..."
"Yes, you have to stay with us." Anna gripped my hand fiercely, pressing it against her cheek. "So you have to hold on, you have to survive. We need you. I love you—I really love you..."
"Alexander, helicopter's five minutes out." Ivan's voice carried an unusual tremor. "Hold on, we're getting you to the hospital."
I nodded weakly, then looked toward the bound Marcus. He knelt trembling, his pants soiled with fear.
"Ivan," I said with great effort. "Send him to meet the right people... let him understand... what happens when you touch my woman..."
"Understood." Ivan's eyes flashed with cold fury. "I'll handle it personally."
Hearing this, Marcus began pleading frantically. "No! Please! I can pay you! I have money—lots of money! Please spare me!"
But no one listened. His fate was sealed the moment he decided to kidnap Anna.
I closed my eyes, letting the medic continue working on my wound. Anna's hand gripped mine like a lifeline, her warmth the only comfort in this cold world.
"Alexander," she whispered through her tears. "I love you. I should have told you sooner. I love you, I trust you, I'll never leave again..."
Those words brought a smile to my lips.
Even drenched in blood, even wracked with agony, even with consciousness slipping away—hearing her say that made everything worthwhile.
The sound of helicopter rotors grew steadily closer. The medic prepared the stretcher while Ivan coordinated the evacuation. The gunfire had ceased, leaving only silence and the metallic scent of blood in the slaughterhouse.
"I love you too," I used my last reserves of strength to say. "Always..."
Then darkness claimed me completely.