14. Tino
Chapter 14
Tino
The plan for us to go in quietly and use flashbangs goes to shit.
We park the vehicles a short way from the cabins and approach quietly on foot, only to discover armed guards outside, patrolling the area. One of them is separate from the group, taking a piss, of all things.
He looks up, sees us, and, before we can put a bullet in him, using a silencer, he screams something in Russian.
Grigoriy’s men run toward us, weapons raised. They indiscriminately fire off round after round, puncturing holes in the trees and splintering wood. Jesus Christ, they are not the best trained, but the volume of gunfire sends us scattering.
Diego pushes me back, urging me to take cover behind one of the trees, but I scramble to get around him. I am not going to cower in the background. All I care about is getting to Mackenzie and Kirill.
I glance over my shoulder, trying to get eyes on Dom. I spot him a short distance away, two of my men flanking him. He seems unharmed. He jerks his chin at me, acknowledging that we’re both okay, and that we need to keep going. With every step, white spikes of agony jar up through my bad leg, but the pills I’ve taken make the pain seem distant.
Leon beckons with a curl of his fingers, and four of my father’s men fan out and raise their weapons. They take out Grigoriy’s men one by one. But one of the Russians gets a hit on one of our men. He goes down with a scream as his thigh bursts open like a watermelon.
“Fuck.” I catch the eye of another of my father’s men. “Stay with him,” I command. “Bind up that leg.” I won’t leave one of these men here to bleed out.
With the Russian patrolmen taken care of, I storm toward the building, Dom by my side.
“Wait,” Leon says as he races to catch up with me. “They’ll know we’re coming now, but we can still disorientate them.”
I nod and put my arm out, holding Dom back with me. Leon reaches the door first, and he lifts his foot and kicks it open. He glances inside, ducks back out, and beckons the men, pointing toward the cabin. Two of our men pull the pins on the stun grenades and throw them inside.
The noise is loud enough to hurt my ears even out here. There’s a blinding flash from inside, and it looks as if real grenades went off in there. Smoke billows out of the door and dissipates into the air.
Shit, will Mackenzie be injured by the blasts?
“Visual check showed me males only in that first room,” Leon announces, as though he’s heard my thoughts, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Two men wait either side of the door, weapons raised. One cocks his fingers twice, and the men enter. Moments later, there’s the strange low thud of silenced fire, and then Leon beckons us through. I enter the cabin. A couple of bodies are sprawled across the floor, blood slowly spreading in a circle beneath them.
Our men spread out, searching the place. Heavy feet clomp around overhead as they check the second floor. To my side is a cloakroom. It’s empty.
Where the hell are Kenzie and Kirill? Then I see it, the door beneath the stairs. I pull it open and duck back as bullets whizz by my head. Trust Grigoriy to have them down there.
Fuck.
I need to distract him and his men, because I have no doubt he’ll shoot Mackenzie rather than let her go with us. I wave at Leon and indicate the stairs. He pulls two of the stun grenades from the belt slung around his hips. I shake my head. We can’t see down there, and if one of those things detonates right by Kenzie, it could still cause a hell of a lot of damage.
Leon purses his lips, but he nods and places them back on his belt.
“Give me one good reason not to shoot this cunt in the face.”
The voice is unmistakable.
“Hello, Grigoriy,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “We’ve killed your men, and we’re armed. You’re not getting out of that basement alive if you harm so much as a single hair on either of their heads.”
He knows exactly who I’m talking about—Kirill and Mackenzie.
He shouts up his reply. “We’re also armed, and if any of you try to come down here, we’ll pick you off before your foot even hits the second step.”
I grind my teeth and wish I could take a pill.
This is a standoff. How the hell are we going to play this without anyone getting hurt? I exchange a glance with Dom. His jaw is locked, and his eyes radiate concern. We need to get down there, no matter what. Even if it means putting ourselves in danger.
I call an offer back to Grigoriy. “If you don’t hurt them, we will come down. Unarmed.”
Maybe it’s stupid to hand ourselves over to Grigoriy, but we’ll still have our men upstairs. All I know is I want to be near Kenzie, to make sure she’s all right, and check on Kirill, too.
Grigoriy laughs. “And why would you want to do that?”
“So we can talk. Let’s find a way out of this without anyone getting hurt.”
There’s a pause as he considers this. “Very well. But if you bring weapons, we will shoot you.”
“No weapons,” I reassure him.
Dom is right beside me now. I glance at the stairs and then back at him. We both slowly lower our guns and place them on the floor, off to one side.
“I’ll go with you,” Leon says. Then he addresses Diego, keeping his voice low. “Pick our best marksman and get him ready for when all hell breaks loose.”
Diego nods.
I edge to the top of the stairs, my heart in my mouth, bracing myself to receive a bullet. Fuck, if this goes wrong, we could get Mackenzie killed.
None comes, and I take the stairs carefully. They are not well lit. The light is behind us, meaning those at the bottom can see me clearly, but I can’t see into the room.
I don't want to get shot before I can help Mackenzie, so I make sure to hold my hands above my head as I walk. The last thing I want is for someone to put a bullet in my head in a moment of panic. As I hit the bottom stair and finally adjust to see the room in front of me, my heart drops into my stomach.
Dom bumps into me, and I realize I've stopped walking.
The scene in front of me is like something out of a horror movie.
Kirill is ashen and standing next to Mackenzie, who is wearing the most disgusting wedding dress I have ever seen. Her hair is damp and plastered to her head, and she's pale with bruises and a bandage on her arm.
In front of them is a priest, and behind them—oh, fuck me—behind them is a cage. I stare at the cage, at the dog bowls with filthy looking food and water in them, and then back at Kirill and Mackenzie.
The collar around her neck makes me want to vomit.
I take it all in and have to lock myself down, so I don’t lose my fucking mind.
It’s a wedding. We’ve interrupted a fucking wedding. Grigoriy got what he wanted all along. I wonder how far into the ceremony they’ve gotten.
Rage courses through me at nuclear levels. My gaze immediately flicks to Grigoriy. Did he put these marks on our doll?
How dare he hurt our Duchess?
I'm going to kill him with my bare hands if it's the last thing I do.
My arms are raised in the air, and so are Dom’s, and my hands twitch with the desire to throttle Grigoriy until his last breath wheezes from him.
Leon takes the last few steps to enter the room. His arms are also held above his head.
“Who’s this asshole?” Grigoriy asks.
“One of my men,” I reply. “Like I said, there are more upstairs.”
“How many more?”
“A couple of our men were hit,” Leon says, “but there are ten left, and they’re all armed. They’re not going to let you walk out of here either. If we die, you die. You’re as trapped as we are.”
He’s lied about the numbers, but it doesn’t really matter. We are trapped in this room, because Mackenzie has a gun pointed at her head, which means until we somehow disarm these men, no one is getting rescued.
Grigory laughs, aware he’s been lied to. “Yes, sure, of course that is the correct number of men, right?” He glances at Leon and then back at me and Dom. “I suppose I'm meant to be scared of this ragtag little band.”
Igor is standing to one side, the weapon in his hand trained right on me. He lets out a strangely high-pitched giggle. Are they on fucking drugs? Shit, it wouldn’t surprise me, and it makes them even less predictable.
I take stock of the room. There are two more men with guns. One of them has his weapon on Dom, but the other has his gun aimed right at the back of Mackenzie's head. I know it’s enough to keep Kirill in place. My throat runs dry as a wave of sickness washes over me.
“Finish the vows and get this done,” Grigoriy orders.
The priest is shaking so much that, when he begins to speak, his teeth chatter. It is clear he is not here of his own accord but is a pawn in Grigoriy’s sick game.
I dare not even glance at Dom, and I'm completely unsure how we can stop this before the ceremony is complete. Any move we make is going to get Mackenzie shot. I look at her again, trying to communicate with my gaze how sorry I am that things turned out this way. It seems we came here so well armed for nothing. Because he's hidden away in this basement like the cowardly, filthy rat that he is, Grigoriy has made it impossible for us to do anything to save Mackenzie without risking getting her killed.
“I'm sorry, Duchess,” I say.
I realize in this moment it seems hopeless, and I need her to know how I feel about her before I walk straight into Igor’s weapon. One of us has to break this stalemate.
As if she realizes what I am going to do, her eyes fill with tears. “No,” she whispers.
“I love you,” I mouth.
Mackenzie jerks as if I shot her. She blinks rapidly and sways a little on her feet. The priest has started speaking again, but all I can do is watch in horror as Mackenzie jerks twice more then falls to the floor. Kirill tries to catch her but misses. She hits hard, her head bouncing off the concrete.
She's rigid, and her hands curl into tight claws.
No. Fuck, no.
Her body jerks and her head snaps back as her throat and neck strain.
Kirill drops to his knees beside her.
“What the hell is she doing?” Grigoriy demands as if he can’t fucking see what’s happening. “Make it stop,” he says to Kirill. “Make her fucking stop that.”
“She can’t control it, you fucking asshole,” I seethe, already moving, no longer caring if they shoot me, just needing to be by her.
I fall to the same position as Kirill, only on the opposite side of Kenzie. We share a worried glance, neither of us daring to touch her. We’re not trained for this, and we’re both unsure what to do.
“She's having a seizure,” Dom says. “She could die. Let us help her. She can't marry your son if she's dead, can she?”
“A seizure?” Grigoriy’s face turns down in a disgusted sneer. He doesn't seem concerned at all for her well-being, only dismayed that she's having a seizure in the first place.
Igor takes a couple of steps back, lowering his weapon. “What is wrong with her? Is she sick? Could we catch it?”
Igor is freaking out. He even makes the sign of the cross.
Grigoriy laughs. “She’s not possessed Igor, just weak.”
The fucking bastard. He really is a piece of shit.
Dom rushes toward us, and one of Grigoriy’s men panics. A shot rings out, the loud boom in this small room enough to make my ears ring. His men aren't using silencers the way ours are, and it fucking hurts. I throw my body over Mackenzie’s, as does Kirill, and a split second later Dom joins me, so we’re all shielding her.
The men we’ve left upstairs must take the gunshot as their signal to get involved, as bullets rain down on us from above. They’re shooting down the stairs, which means they can’t see what the fuck they’re shooting at properly. My heart pounds and my body tenses, and all I can think is that I don’t want anyone I love to get shot.
“You fuckers,” Grigoriy snarls.
Leon moves fast.
He flies at Grigoriy, smashing into him with his full body weight and taking him down to the ground. Both men grunt as they hit the floor. Leon grabs Grigoriy’s wrist of the hand that’s still holding the gun, lifts it, and drives it back down onto the hard concrete. Grigoriy keeps hold of the weapon, but Leon is on top and has the advantage. Leon repeats the process, and this time something cracks—most likely a couple of Grigoriy’s fingers—and he drops the gun which clatters away. Leon’s gaze flicks to the weapon, clearly trying to decide if it’s worth going for it, but then thinks otherwise. If he lifts the pressure off Grigoriy now, the other man might get the advantage. Grigoriy is physically bigger than Leon, and most likely stronger.
Leon draws back his fist and viciously punches Grigoriy in the side of the head three times. Grigoriy tries to fight back, but he can't get a purchase on Leon, and his head rolls to the side as the final punch stuns him.
Bullets whizz by, the high-pitched sound terrifying when there are people I love in the line of those damn bullets. The gunfight continues, and it’s a deadly stalemate unfolding. Blood blooms on the chest on one of Grigoriy’s men, and he groans as he hits the ground like a sack of bricks. Igor is still returning fire, using the cage as protection—though it’s not much. A yell of pain comes from the top of the stairs, and one of my men falls, slowly at first, and then all at once, toppling to the bottom.
Leon jumps to his feet, snatches Grigoriy’s gun, and points it right at Igor. Igor has been distracted by the gunfire from the staircase and doesn’t see him coming until it’s too late.
Leon jams the muzzle into Igor’s temple. “Drop the weapon, or I’ll shoot.”
Grigoriy’s other remaining man swings his gun in Leon’s direction. I can see what’s about to happen—he’ll shoot Leon first. My gaze locks on the gun that had belonged to the man who’d taken the bullet in the chest, and I launch myself at it. I land on my side, skidding across the floor, white hot pain flashing up through my bad leg, but I get my hands on the gun. Without even thinking, I lift it and squeeze the trigger. The bullet finds its home in the man’s shoulder, and he flies back, hitting the wall and sliding down. He’s still alive, but he’s also dropped his gun. I scramble back to my feet and kick it away.
Igor realizes he’s fucked, and his weapon topples from his fingers. He puts both hands in the air, much like we’d done on our way down here.
“Okay, okay. Don’t shoot.”
I know how much Kirill hates this son of a bitch. If anyone’s going to shoot him, it’ll be my fellow Devil.
With them dealt with, I turn my attention back to Mackenzie.
The seizure seems to be easing off now, and I'm relieved it seems to be a small attack.
I glance over at Kirill, who is simply staring, his eyes almost blank, and his face as pale as death.
“How long since she's eaten or had a drink?” I demand.
He doesn't answer. He merely shakes his head, and I'm shocked when tears fill his eyes, and then, like a waterfall, spill over and stream silently down his face. Shit, he looks completely broken. What the hell happened in this basement?
I remember Kenzie’s mother saying it was important to keep her quiet, warm, and calm after a seizure. I can’t help with the first or last one, but I can sure keep her warm. I pull my sweatshirt over my head and place it on her, covering her bare arms. Dom takes off his t-shirt, leaving him bare-chested, and now that the seizure has subsided, he gently lifts her head and places it underneath, cushioning her.
“I want that fucker kept alive.” I point to Grigoriy, who Leon has now pulled to his feet.
Leon pulls a zip tie from his utility belt and quickly fastens Grigoriy’s wrists behind his back before pushing him to his knees. Then he stoops and binds Grigoriy’s ankles, ensuring he can’t run.
“Igor, too,” Dom says. “Tie him up as well. He’s been involved with all Grigoriy’s plans for years.”
I nod. “The other one is still alive, but I don’t think he’s going to cause us harm any time soon.”
The man in question has covered the bullet hole with his hand, applying pressure. He regards me with strange, pale eyes, and, even though he must be in a huge amount of pain, his lips curl in a sneer.
I don’t know what his involvement was in all of this, but he’s looking at me as though he knows something I don’t.
A small voice comes from the corner of the basement, and I suddenly remember the priest. He’d managed to tuck himself away while all the fighting was happening and has come out of it unscathed.
“I was made to come here. I beg you, don’t shoot me.” The priest makes the sign of the cross.
“No one is shooting you, Priest,” I say.
People are going to die today, but it won’t be a man of the cloth.