Chapter 2 #2
“Death smiles at all of us, Mikhail. We cannot escape the inevitable. When our time on this earth has expired, there is nothing we can do. What is in our control is facing our demise with dignity and if necessary, extreme violence.” I threw him a smile.
He could tell I was trying to lighten his mood, not that I had any lightness woven in my molecular structure. “I guess you’re right. I just…”
“Speak your mind.” His hesitancy could get him killed.
“I don’t like or trust the man. The meeting was too slick, too practiced.”
“Yes, it was, but I wouldn’t have expected otherwise. They have much to gain from the acceptance of our business including an additional market for their products. However, trust will never be a word in our vocabulary. Do you understand?”
His deep breath was scattered, but the nod of his head showed more confidence. At least he closed his eyes, controlling his breathing as I’d taught him to do when no one was able to stay with him at the hospital.
When the driver began to slow, my hackles were immediately on edge. I gripped the headrest in front with one hand as I reached for my weapon with the other. “Why are we slowing?”
“Roadwork, sir. We need to take a detour.”
Mikhail bristled from beside me. “I don’t like this.”
“You and me both.” Especially since there were no other cars in front of our three prepared to take the detour. A fucking classic method of pulling planned targets into rural and secluded locations. “Find an alternate route.”
“Yes, sir.”
While Kirill was in the front car, Grigor was up front in the passenger seat, already scrolling his phone for an alternate route.
“Should I kill the maintenance workers?” Mikhail’s voice was ripped with grit and determination.
“We passed them on the way here, Pakhan,” the driver offered while staring into the rearview mirror.
While I didn’t like being a sitting duck, killing several men on a road crew could prevent our plane from getting off the ground. “Not yet.”
“I found two alternates, one a bit rougher than the other,” Grigor said as he handed me his phone. They were both fucking rural.
“Take the long way and step on it.”
As Grigor immediately contacted Kirill, I continued scanning the perimeter. All three drivers moved onto the shoulder, heading for an exit. The workers didn’t try to stop us.
The front SUV didn’t waste any time, barreling down the two-lane road.
I wasn’t prone to hysteria regarding any aspect of my life. Likely because I faced death with a nonchalant attitude.
Yet what I refused to accept was being cornered like an animal. If anyone was so stupid as to think otherwise, they would soon learn both a valuable and life-altering lesson.
But only while facing their own mortality.
Ten minutes passed with no additional disturbance, but I remained on edge.
“We’re about fifteen minutes out, sir,” the driver said.
“Good.” Finally leaning back, I glanced at my brother. “We will be in the air soon.”
“I know,” Mikhail said, staring straight ahead. “Smert’ ne posleduyet.”
Death shall not follow. I narrowed my eyes, studying his. Fear was unacceptable.
Before I had a chance to rebut him, once again the driver slowed.
“We have company, sir.”
I yanked the weapon into my hand and thankfully, Mikhail did the same. There were two vehicles up ahead and as soon as I turned around to stare out the back windshield, I realized we were about to be boxed in.
Fuck.
“Pull over,” I instructed while grabbing my phone, dialing Kirill.
“I figured you’d call, boss,” he answered.
“Whatever happens, get Mikhail to the plane. Do you understand me?”
“We fight.”
“You will do as I say. Period.”
Kirill hesitated, something I wasn’t used to with him.
“Do it!”
“Yes, sir.”
Just before the driver jerked the SUV to a halt, I turned toward Mikhail. “Get back to Russia. You will become Pakhan in my absence.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mikhail searched my eyes.
“You will follow my orders. Period.” I didn’t give him or anyone else time to object, jumping from the vehicle before it came to a screeching halt.
There were four vehicles, masked men dressed in dark clothes, jumping from every door.
I didn’t waste time, firing off several rounds.
I’d learned at a very early age how to do anything to survive.
I’d also been taught every man had a threshold of pain.
Every man except for me. Given my penchant for violence and love of brutality, I threw myself into the fight, firing with my years of training.
Mikhail was out and behind me, guarding my back. He’d also been trained, although I wouldn’t call him a crack shot.
Yet he surprised me by striking one of the assailants between the eyes.
There were almost twice the number of assassins, all fanning out to try to box us in.
We moved in formation as the soldiers had been trained to do, but it became obviously very quickly the bastards also knew what they were doing.
When I was attacked from behind, tackled to the ground, we wrestled.
My gun was almost knocked from my hand twice, but I outweighed the motherfucker by fifty pounds.
I threw myself on top of his massive body, smashing my hand against his handgun.
As it went flying off in the distance and with my weapon in both hands, I shoved the barrel under his chin.
Agony tore through my shoulder the second he drove the blade of a knife into my muscle, but pain had never prevented me from doing my duties. We rolled back and forth, fighting for control.
A quick kick of his foot knocked me backward, but not before I got off a single shot.
The aim was off, a rarity for my precision.
Instead of wasting another bullet, I issued a brutal kick, tossing him backward by several feet.
From there, I stomped on his neck, delighting in the loud crack that could be heard over the savage fight.
His vacant eyes were a silent reward.
“Pozadi tebya,” Kirill yelled.
Behind you.
I spun around to face yet another asshole daring to come under the radar.
With no time to fire off my weapon, I smashed my handgun against his face.
The man froze, staring at me even as his body betrayed him and he went down hard.
His look of shock was the last thing he managed before I pumped two bullets into him.
While I ripped off his mask, doing so told me nothing. The assailants weren’t eager to expose their identities.
A hard kick to my arm and my Sig Sauer was finally pitched from my hand. Lamenting my fortune wasn’t on the menu. I yanked my second weapon free, flicking open the sharp blade. The man had come for a fight, removing his mask himself.
There was always a particular look in man’s eyes when the moment was personal. While I didn’t know him, it was apparent he knew me, determined to become the hero of the day.
As if that was going to happen.
He shifted from foot to foot as a boxer would do, the ridiculousness of the moment bringing amusement as well as annoyance. However, I’d grown weary of games. With a single lunge, I fisted his hair and dragged the edge of the blade from one side of his neck to the other.
There was an art to using a knife, the personal weaponry often my favored choice.
His actions were stilted, slowly reaching for his neck even as the slit on his throat sprayed his life’s blood against my chest. I dropped his lifeless body to the ground, taking gasping breaths before snatching my weapon.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mikhail. Goddamn it, he was in a physical fight with one of them. I lunged toward, tackling the assailant to the ground. Even as I did, a shot rang out.
My brother’s agonizing cry fueled a deep rage. I wasn’t prone to outbursts of anger, using my strength and training to calculate every move, every shot taken.
Not this time.
I bashed the man’s head in, issuing blow after blow before bringing my boot down in the center of his face. There was no time to reflect. I dropped to my brother’s side, pulling him behind one of the SUVs for cover.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Another one of my soldiers was down, half his face blown off. That left Grigor and Kirill. We weren’t going to win the fight.
Fuck. Mikhail was only semi-conscious. “It’s going to be okay, little brother.”
He moaned in response, blood already soaking his shirt. “Kazi-mir.”
“Save your breath.”
Kirill joined me. “I heard another vehicle approaching. Who the fuck are these assholes?”
“It doesn’t matter. Get Mikhail out of here. Take Grigor.”
“What? Are you nuts?”
“Just do it. Double back then head to the plane. Get him out of here.”
“I’m not leaving you. You’re the Pakhan.”
“Fucking do it, Kirill. If I need to ask you again, you’ll become one of the casualties. It’s me they want. Don’t worry. They won’t like what they face.”
He shook his head, cursing.
But finally, he did as ordered, disappearing into the dense foliage seconds later.
I gave them cover, firing off several rounds before the magazine ran out. I jerked back, yanking another one from my jacket and slapping it in.
Sensing movement, I crawled toward the front of the vehicle on my belly, waiting for the right time and the perfect shot.
That came seconds later, the two men dropping like flies.
That allowed me the opportunity to rush forward and in the opposite direction.
Shadows of the forest swallowed me within seconds, the thick canopy providing some level of protection.
With the goal being to provide time for my men to get Mikhail to safety, I stayed close to the road, crouching down behind a thicket of bushes.
It was mere seconds before footsteps approached. Now was time for patience, which I was running out of.
Yet I managed, powering off two shots. One a hit. One a miss.
A sudden jarring caught me off guard, another flash of pain directly in the middle of my back.
The pain yanked at my breath, immediately pulling me into a fog.
I stumbled directly into the arms of two men.
While my mind fought them, my body had already shut down, whatever poison infecting me flowing through my bloodstream.
I was dragged through the forest toward the road, every sound echoing.
Just before I blacked out, I was tossed into a trunk, one of the men laughing before slamming the door and I was pitched into darkness.