25. Chapter Twenty-Five
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
T he chilly night air bit into my skin as I tiptoed down the alleyway, blending into the shadows cast by crumbling brick walls, with my men. Rostov-on-Don wasn’t my first choice when searching for a safe house like this, but it was well hidden enough to keep people like me under the radar, which was the perfect place for my prey to be. Just like that guy, whose name wasn’t Jose, told us it would be. His real name was irrelevant, as he left his family bloodline to die in that room, when he took his son’s life over his own.
And they said that the Bratva was fucked up.
The safe house was on the edge of town, masquerading as an abandoned factory from the outside. Windows were boarded up, rusted machinery and rubble scattered across the grounds, and moss crept over everything in sight. I moved closer, scanning for any unusual movement.
The Venezuelan cartel leader I was after had gone to ground here according to intel. Getting to him would be a problem; an armed one. He always came prepared with a dozen loyal men heavily armed, and ready to die for him. And, unfortunately, that was exactly what I was here to help them do .
I whispered orders to my men as we all fanned out. I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, as I slipped through a side entrance I’d scoped out earlier. The hallway was damp and dark, smelling of mold and rust. Faint voices echoed somewhere deeper inside, the leader and his men, laughing as if they owned the place. I gripped my knife tighter, and made my way down the corridor, listening carefully to the sounds of change in their conversation.
“-can’t have him running off, doing whatever he wants. Bring him to heel,” a voice said.
“You don’t tell me what to do. Without me, this alliance wouldn’t even work,” another person scoffed.
Men laughed and jeered, as an argument ensued. I felt like I knew one of the head men speaking, but couldn’t put my finger on where from.
“Just go out the back, so no one will see you.”
That was my cue. I texted the signal and burst into the room. Guns were drawn, but I saw a door close on the other side of the room before I could see who ran out of it. Hopefully, one of my men grabbed him on the outside.
My men were filing in at my back. The men in the room barely had time to register the sound before we were on them. I fired two quick shots, taking out the guards on either side of the Venezuelan leader, before they could reach for their weapons. My team spread out, moving in brutal, calculated synchronicity. Each bullet, each strike, was swift and merciless.
One of his lieutenants came at me, his eyes wide with panic, a knife clutched in his hand. I sidestepped, grabbing his wrist and twisting, forcing him to drop the blade. He stumbled, and I put him down with a sharp jab to his temple. Another man, roaring in defiance, lunged toward us, only to be met with a precise shot from one of my men. He dropped like dead weight, his eyes already dimming.
The room was thick with the smell of gunpowder and the iron tang of blood. Bodies lay crumpled across the worn, stained carpet, and the leader stood in the center, his face draining of all that smug confidence he’d carried before. He looked around, eyes darting to the dead men he once trusted, then back to me. For the first time, he realized he was alone.
He took a shaky step back, hands raised, trying to summon whatever dignity he had left, but the fear betrayed him. “Wait,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “Listen… we can make a deal. Whatever you want; money, power, it’s yours. Just… do nothing rash.”
I took a slow step toward him, keeping my gun leveled at his chest, letting the silence settle heavily between us. He swallowed, his hands still raised, his bravado shattering with every passing second. He tried again, voice trembling. “You don’t have to do this. I can make it worth your while.”
But he didn’t understand. There was nothing he could offer that would buy him out of this.
When he realized there was no getting out of this, his eyes darted left and he took off. I reached for him, but the chunky fucker dodged my hands, and headed out a side passage.
“Close him in,” I ordered.
The men rushed out of the room from all angles, and I followed behind the cartel leader slowly, knowing my men would box him in, until he only had one place to run. Where I wanted him to.
Higher and higher I stalked him, until I came outside through a door to the roof. There my prey stood, with his back to the edge.
“We can make a deal,” he begged.
I stopped in place, tilting my head. “You’re right. We can make a deal.” I took a step back. “Very well. What are you offering?”
“I-I can give you m-my daughter.” He snapped his fingers, like I would not keep her anyway .
“I already have your daughter,” I growled. It amused me that he thought he could barter away property that wasn’t his to begin with.
“I can get you a lot of money. I was here to do a deal with the Yakuza, but that may have fallen apart. How about you and I forge a deal instead?” He begged.
“So you can stab me in the back as well, when it’s time to save your skin?” I scoffed, “No, thank you.”
“Well, what do you want?”
“That’s simple.” I leaned against the wall. “Your death.”
He mumbled something in Spanish.
“I’m sorry, holmes, I don’t speak the Spanish.” I chuckled.
“I don’t want to die, was what I was saying.”
“Oh!” I placed a hand over my heart. “That’s touching, but we all gotta die someday. You can choose by your own hands…” I nodded to the ledge. “Or by mine.” I nodded to my gun. “But the choice is yours.”
Funnily enough, a few minutes later, he was jumping to his death. Was I really that scary?
“Sir,” one of my spies came up behind me, as I was looking at the cartel leader’s splattered body on the ground below.
“What is it?” I didn’t turn around, because the spy wasn’t anyone of importance.
“Something triggered the alarm at your home, and I can’t access any of the camera feeds.” He was out of breath, and this made me turn slowly.
“Are you saying no one has eyes on my wife?” I quietly asked.
He gulped. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.”
“Then I guess you better bring the car around, before you end up on the ground like that one.” I pointed down to the body.
“Right away, sir.” He scrambled down the stairs.
I pulled out my phone and tried to access the main cameras, but nothing was working. I went to my secret hidden ones, the cameras I placed myself. My malen'kiy angel was nowhere to be found, but I could see there had been some kind of struggle.
I zoomed in and saw her clothes on the floor in the kitchen.
Rage pulsed through my veins, as many scenarios ran through my mind, of what could have happened to her. None of them were good. One of my spies came to grab me and we took off. The caravan followed behind.
I was going to find my malen'kiy angel, and kill every single person who’d touched a single hair on her beautiful head. Mark my fucking words.