Chapter 31Valerian
31
Valerian
T he convoy of black SUVs tears through the streets of Philadelphia, each turn bringing us closer to “Eastern State Penitentiary.” My hands clench and unclench on my thighs as I stare out the tinted window, the city blurring past in a smear of gray and neon.
“Faster,” I say harshly to Viktor. He nods, pressing down on the accelerator.
My mind spins while Claire’s face flashes through it. The thought of Matvey laying a hand on her makes my blood boil. I’ve killed for less. The phone buzzes in my pocket. Yuri’s name flashes on the screen. I answer with a sharp, “What?”
“Boss, I’ve arranged a meeting with Lev through a guard I’ve got on payroll. We can?—”
“Not now,” I cut him off. “Focus on finding any intel on where Matvey might be keeping Claire within the prison. I want blueprints, security protocols, everything.”
“But Lev could have crucial information about?—”
“I said not now.” My voice drops dangerously low. “Claire is the priority. Understood?”
A pause. “Yes, boss. I’ll keep digging.”
I end the call, tossing the phone onto the seat beside me. My fingers itch for my gun, for action, or for anything to channel this fury coursing through my veins.
The crumbling stone walls of “Eastern State” rise ahead, a fortress of decay and despair. I speak across our frequency so all can hear me. “Viktor, take a team and secure the perimeter. Dmitri, you’re with me. The rest of you, stay alert and be ready to move on my command.”
A chorus of affirmatives crackles through the speaker. As we screech to a halt outside the main gate, I check my watch. Fifty-two minutes left on Matvey’s deadline. It’s more than enough time to tear this place apart brick by brick if that’s what it takes to find Claire.
I step out of the SUV, and Dmitri materializes at my side, looking grim. “Your orders, boss?”
“We go in hard and fast,” I say, adjusting my suit jacket to better conceal my holster. “Take out anyone who gets in our way, but Matvey is mine, and if you find Claire...” I pause, meeting his gaze. “Get her out immediately, no matter what happens to me. Understood?”
He nods, his expression softening for just a moment. “We’ll find her, Valerian.”
I turn to face the aging prison, its gothic architecture reminding anyone who views it of the horrors that once took place within these walls. Now, it’s become the stage for a new nightmare, one I intend to end. “Let’s move,” I command, striding toward the entrance. My Makarov PM against my back is reassuring. I’ve never hesitated to use it before, and I won’t start now when Claire’s life hangs in the balance.
As we approach the main gate, I spot two of Matvey’s men poorly disguised as security guards. Their eyes widen in recognition when we draw near. Before they can reach for their weapons, Dmitri and I move in perfect sync.
I drive my fist into the first guard’s solar plexus, following up with a sharp elbow to the back of his head when he doubles over. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. Dmitri dispatches the other with brutal efficiency, a quick series of strikes leaving the man in a heap beside his companion.
“Amateurs,” he mutters, retrieving the guards’ access cards.
I nod in agreement, my lips curling into a sneer. If this is the caliber of men Matvey’s relying on, perhaps I’ve overestimated him. Still, I can’t afford to be cocky with Claire’s life on the line. It could be he left these two with orders to let us through. I can’t rule out anything when Matvey seems intent on playing some dark and twisted game.
We swipe the cards, and the heavy iron gate creaks open. The sound echoes through the empty courtyard, setting my nerves on edge. It’s too quiet. Where are the rest of Matvey’s men?
Moments later, I enter the dimly lit corridors of Eastern State Penitentiary with Dmitri at my side. The air is thick, damp, and musty, a fitting atmosphere for the grim task ahead. I scan the shadows, searching for any sign of movement.
“Stay alert,” I murmur to Dmitri. He nods, resting his hand on the butt of his holstered weapon.
We move swiftly down the main corridor, passing rows of empty cells. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the occasional drip of water from rusted pipes. Every nerve in my body is on edge, anticipating an ambush at any moment.
A flicker of movement catches my attention. I raise my hand, signaling Dmitri to stop. We press ourselves against the wall, blending into the darkness. Two of Matvey’s men round the corner, their voices low and tense.
“We should’ve just killed her already,” one grumbles.
“The boss wants to draw this out,” says the other. “Make Rostova suffer.”
I grit my teeth at their words. They have no idea how much they’ll suffer for laying a hand on Claire.
I lock gazes with Dmitri. We work well enough together to not need words to form a plan. As the men draw closer, we spring into action. I lunge forward, driving my fist into the first man’s solar plexus. He doubles over, gasping for air. Dmitri tackles the second, slamming him against the wall with a dull thud.
The first man recovers quickly, swinging wildly at my head. I duck under his punch, countering with a sharp uppercut that snaps his head back. He stumbles, dazed but not down. I press my advantage, unleashing a flurry of strikes to his face and body. He crumples to the ground, unconscious.
Dmitri has his opponent in a chokehold, and the man’s face is turning an alarming shade of purple. “Easy,” I warn. “We need information.” He loosens his grip slightly, allowing the man to draw in a ragged breath.
I crouch down, meeting the terrified gaze of our captive. “Where is she?” I ask, practically growling the words.
The man’s gaze darts between Dmitri and me, weighing his options. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He wheezes between words.
I grip his throat. “Wrong answer. Where is Claire?”
“Cell block C, but you’ll never reach her. Matvey’s got the place locked down tight.”
A cold smile spreads across my face. “We’ll see about that.”
I nod to Dmitri, who knocks the man unconscious with a swift blow. We drag both bodies into an empty cell and lock them in after stripping the key ring from them.
“Cell block C,” I mutter, pulling out the crude map Yuri had managed to piece together while clasping the keys in my hand, sure we’ll need them. “This way.”
We move deeper into the warren of corridors. The oppressive darkness seems to close in around us, making every shadow a potential threat. As we approach a junction, the sound of hushed voices reaches us.
I hold up my hand, signaling Dmitri to stop. We press ourselves against the wall, listening intently. Three distinct voices, discussing patrol rotations. I peek around the corner, confirming my count. Three of Matvey’s men, and all are heavily armed.
I turn to Dmitri, speaking in a low whisper. “I’ll take the two on the left. You get the one on the right. On my signal.”
Dmitri nods, his face revealing no emotions. I count down silently, ticking off the seconds visibly with my fingers. Three... two... one...
We burst around the corner, catching the men off guard. I launch myself at the nearest target, driving my shoulder into his midsection. We crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs as his gun clatters across the floor, out of reach.
The second man fumbles for his weapon, but I’m faster. My fist connects with his jaw, sending him reeling. I follow up with a vicious knee to his stomach, doubling him over.
A gunshot rings out, deafeningly loud in the confined space despite a muffler. I whirl around to see Dmitri grappling with the third man, the gun between them smoking. For a heart-stopping moment, I fear the worst before the man slumps to the ground, a crimson stain spreading across his chest.
Dmitri looks up, trickling blood from a cut on his cheek. “I’m fine.”
I nod, turning my attention back to the two men I’d taken down. They’re both struggling to their feet, dazed but not out of the fight. I don’t give them a chance to recover.
I drive my elbow into the first man’s temple, sending him crashing back to the ground. The second manages to land a glancing blow to my ribs, but I barely feel it through the surge of adrenaline. I grab his arm, twisting it behind his back until I hear a sickening pop. He screams in agony, dropping to his knees.
“Where is she?” I demand, my voice a low growl.
The man whimpers, cradling his dislocated shoulder. “End of the block, but there’s at least a dozen more men between you and her. You’ll never make it, Rostova.”
I smile coldly. “Good. I was hoping for a challenge.”
A quick blow to the back of his head silences him. I turn to Dmitri, who’s zip-tying the unconscious men. “You okay to continue?”
He nods, wiping blood from his cheek. “It’s just a scratch. Let’s find Claire.”
We move deeper into Cell Block C, our progress slowed by the need for stealth. Every corner and shadowy alcove could hide an enemy. The Makarov PM presses against my back, but I resist the urge to draw it. Gunfire would bring the entire complex down on our heads, and I don’t have a muffler for my gun like Dmitri had during his exchange with Petrov’s man.
As we approach another junction, a flicker of movement catches my attention. I raise my hand, signaling Dmitri to stop. We press ourselves against the wall, barely breathing.
Four men round the corner, their weapons at the ready. They haven’t spotted us yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I hold up three fingers, counting down. As my last finger drops, we spring into action.
I launch myself at the nearest man, driving my knee into his stomach. He doubles over, gasping for air. I grab his head, slamming it against the wall with a sickening crack.
Dmitri engages the second man, their struggle a blur of fists and elbows. I turn my attention to the remaining two, who are finally overcoming their shock.
One raises his gun, but I’m faster. I close the distance between us, grabbing his wrist and forcing up the weapon. A shot rings out, and the bullet embeds itself harmlessly in the ceiling. I twist his arm sharply, feeling bones grind beneath my grip as he cries out. The gun clatters to the floor. There’s no muffler on this one, so the sound of it firing will have carried.
The fourth man charges at me, swinging wildly. I duck under his punch, driving my fist into his kidney. He staggers, off-balance. I capitalize on his vulnerability, unleashing a flurry of strikes to his face and body. There’s no reason not to draw my gun now, but my hands are too busy.
A grunt of pain draws my attention. Dmitri is on the ground, struggling with his opponent. The man has him in a chokehold, his face turning an alarming shade of red.
I abandon my current target, launching myself at Dmitri’s attacker. We tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. I drive my elbow into his face repeatedly, feeling cartilage crunch beneath the onslaught.
Dmitri gasps for air, coughing violently. I spare him a glance, ensuring he’s okay before turning back to the fight. The man I’d left standing earlier charges at me, tackling me to the ground. We grapple on the cold stone floor, each fighting for dominance. He wraps his hands around my throat, squeezing with desperate strength.
Black spots dance at the edge of my vision as I struggle for air. I slash my fingers down his face, seeking any vulnerability. I find his eyes and dig in my thumbs mercilessly.
He screams, releasing his grip. I gulp in precious oxygen, my head clearing. With a surge of strength, I buck him off, reversing our positions.
My fists rain down on his face, each impact sending shockwaves up my arms. I don’t stop until he goes limp beneath me, his features a bloody mess.
I struggle to my feet, surveying the carnage around us. Dmitri stands nearby, leaning heavily against the wall. All four of Matvey’s men lie motionless on the ground.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
Dmitri nods, rubbing his throat. “I’ll live. You?”
“Never better,” I lie, ignoring the throbbing pain in my ribs. “Let’s keep moving. We’re getting close.”
We continue down the corridor, our progress slowed by the need for caution. Time presses down on me, with each second ticking away bringing us closer to Matvey’s deadline.