Chapter 28
VIKTOR
First stop, my apartment.
I don’t remember the last time I’ve had to crack open my gun safe.
Nothing has been this serious in years, so my guns and my safe have been sitting in the corner of my bedroom, collecting dust between the times I take my rifles out for practice.
I haven’t expected to have to use any of my guns. War hasn’t been coming for a while.
But then, sometimes, the war comes to you.
I’ve got a plan in mind and it’s a crazy one, but it’s the only way I’m going to be able to get close enough to Nikolai before he thinks to try and escape. Going in with the Red Devils might be the safer option, but if I lose him in the commotion, I don’t think I’ll get another chance.
I decide that my rifle with the silencer and my handgun should be enough.
I’ve got a good idea of what the layout is going to be when I step onto the property, and loading up like I’m Rambo is unrealistic.
I’m going to need to move quickly and quietly.
Going in with two guns and a knife in my boot is strategic.
The drive there takes me less than twenty minutes with my foot all the way down on the pedal. And when I park my car just outside the borders of his property and look up the lane that leads to his house in the distance, a surge of adrenaline pumps through my veins.
Getting here and getting onto his property was the easy part.
I’ve trained most of these men, so I knew even before I parked my car where they all were going to be in this scenario.
The play is simple. An attack was made on a rival gang and retaliation is expected.
Nikolai’s estate is on lockdown. And if it’s on lockdown, then the lane is going to be littered with his men in their cars. Perhaps even patrolling on foot.
I know the play. I wrote it. I creep up the lane, keeping to the wooded areas and staying in shadows cast by the afternoon sun.
I already spot some of them in their cars up ahead, all parked just off the private road leading up to the circle drive in front of the house.
It’s going to take me a little while to get by them on foot undetected, but I make it happen.
I slip through the shadows around cars positioned to watch the road and not the woods around them.
I could take them out now, but I want to save my ammo. Teddy and the Red Devils will deal with them when they come up. He knows what to look for, so I doubt that he’ll have much trouble when he and his boys ride through.
I manage to make it to the house without any alarm.
I’m crouched behind a brush, watching his guards walk the perimeter of the house.
Two on the ground and a sniper on the roof.
The sniper was going to be tricky. He’ll be watching the tree line as well as the road…
but there’s only one of them, and I had the presence of mind to bring my rifle.
I lie low and get in position, watching him through my scope.
He’s a thirty-year-old army vet named Andrei.
I trained him myself when he expressed an interest in improving his shooting skills.
He was getting pretty good, there. If all of this hadn’t just happened, I could see him becoming one of the best snipers the Kirovs have ever seen. Too bad it’s all about to go to waste.
He paces back and forth, watching the road. I wait until his back is to me and pull the trigger. The silencer on my rifle does its job and the shot is clipped off with a poof. Blood spurts from the top of Andrei’s head. He goes down quickly and without any trouble.
The other guards haven’t been alerted. They’re too far away from one another. I could pick them off one by one, but I doubt I’ll be able to get them all before the alarm sounds, and I want to be in the house by the time they even think to call for help from the guards on the road.
I strap the rifle to my back and creep a little closer until I’m right in the path of the closest guard as he patrols.
He walks with casual steps, watching the tree line with sunglasses even though it’s overcast right now.
He stops, and I realize I have a split second before impending danger registers.
I grab him from the side, covering his mouth as I slit his throat with my knife. He goes limp as blood pours down the front of his shirt… but he squeezes the trigger of his rifle.
The gunshot echoes against the brick walls of the house. There goes that plan. The rifle comes off my back and I make a run for the door. One of them shoots at me and I turn and fire, hitting him in the throat. Another yells something off to my right. I turn and fire, clipping him in the forehead.
A third guard appears out of nowhere and sprays the wall as I rush past it and up the stairs. He’s shouting at me in Russian as he steps into view, his gun trained on me.
I unload before he gets a shot off, hitting him in the neck and chest. He drops his gun as his eyes roll up and his mouth drops open. And that’s the last one down.
But the gunshots will have alerted the others. I need to move fast.
I kick the front door down and rush in, my gun pointed forward and ready. Two men in the living room. They open fire and barely miss me as I duck behind the couch.
“Don’t make us kill you, Viktor,” one of them says.
I take that second to look and see how many bullets I have left. Maybe I should have brought my AR. I’ve only got a few bullets left.
The door to the kitchen opens and a third man walks out.
I open fire on him, using my last bullets and sending him falling back into the kitchen.
The surprise catches everyone off guard, so I pull the revolver out of my belt and leap up from behind the couch, shooting the two guards—one in the head, one in the chest.
Standing here in the aftermath, my mind starts turning. I look toward the spiral staircase, toward her room. I’m coming, Tati.
The force of a push hits me in the shoulder and sends me to the floor. The smell of gunpowder follows and I know I’ve been hit. I lift my gun toward the attacker. Coming out of the kitchen, his gun on me, is Yanov. He smirks as he walks slowly into the room.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he says. “The day he took you in, I hoped that you would fuck up badly enough for him to finally decide you weren’t worth the trouble. And on that day, I prayed I’d be the one to pull the trigger.”
My shoulder is starting to throb and my sleeve is warm with the blood soaking through. I ignore it and slowly get to my feet, keeping my gun on him. “You haven’t killed me yet, Yanov.”
“A momentary problem,” he says. “One I plan on rectifying quickly.” He pauses as he looks at my gun pointed at him.
“Looks like we’re at an impasse,” I say. “Think you can shoot me faster than I can shoot you?”
A smarmy grin spreads across his face. “You were never as good as me. I am twice the enforcer you’ve ever been.”
“And yet Nikolai chose me for the job… and you to be his bitch. Jumping at every beck and call. I’ve been meaning to ask you all these years. How does his dick taste?”
He scowls. “You vulgar piece of shit. Of course you would question my loyalty to the brotherhood. You and his traitorous son were always cut from the same cloth. My only regret is that you didn’t die in that car crash with him.”
That felt like a push to the chest, a dare to kick my ass. I stare him down as I ask, “It was you, wasn’t it?” He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. “Of course it was. If Nikolai told you to eat his shit in the name of the Bratva, you’d have done it. You’re as dishonorable as he is.”
“Am I?” His smile broadens. “And what would you call a man who gets his boss’s daughter pregnant?”
I glare at him in furious silence and he laughs.
“Oh, you didn’t think she’d tell us of her delicate condition?” he says. “You’d be surprised what a person will say to try and save their own lives. Too bad it didn’t help her.”
The fury blazes like a wildfire inside me. The idea of Tati dead…
Something hardens inside me and I say, “Let’s settle this like men, Yanov. I’m sure as much as you’d like to end me right here, I’ll bet you’d much rather kick the shit out of me.”
“More than you can imagine,” he says with a low growl.
“Then put your gun down and let’s go.”
He tilts his head slightly, considering, then he puts up his hands. I follow suit, putting up my hands as well. We both move to put our guns on the floor slowly.
“You’ve made a fatal mistake, Morozov.” He starts to circle me. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
He lunges at me, fist coming straight for my head. I dodge him, throwing my arm up to block him. Then I deliver a punch to his side, then another.
He grabs my head and rams his knee into my chest. The air leaves me and I stumble backward.
Before I can recover, he’s on me, lowering himself and driving his shoulder into my abdomen.
We both go backward, crashing into the wall.
I wrap my uninjured arm around his neck in a headlock, squeeze as he struggles.
His hand reaches up, digging into the bullet wound in my shoulder.
I grit my teeth and bear the pain, squeezing his neck tightly. He brings the heel of his hand up and it connects with my chin. It’s only a moment of pain that causes me to release him, but it’s enough. He pulls away from me, his usual serene countenance twisted into a scowl.
I throw jabs at him, cracking him in the nose and jaw until he stumbles out of my reach. I close the gap and he steps to the side, hitting me across the face with his elbow. It turns me around, and I’m dazed for a split second, but I’m still on my feet.
He brings his leg around to roundhouse me, but I manage to duck it. He turns on his foot and counters with a kick to the chest. I grab his foot as it connects and swing him around. He goes flying into the staircase, his back hitting the railing.
“Motherfuck!” he barks as he staggers away. I see him go for his gun, just a few steps away, and I step forward, kicking it into the kitchen.
“Beat me fair and square, you piece of shit,” I growl at him. He brings his fist up as he stands, clocking me in the jaw. I see stars as I stumble back. He keeps coming, punching me in the gut, then across the face again.
“The Dark Cloud,” he jeers as he hits me again, punching me across the face. “What a joke. You are nothi—”
I block his third punch and hit him in the throat. He stumbles back, so I hit him again, harder. I feel the bones break under my knuckles as it connects. He gapes and stumbles backward, grabbing at his throat. Loud, strangled gasps escape him and his eyes start to bug out.
He bumps into the couch as his arms flail out, grabbing for anything that might save him as his gasps turn to gurgles. I saunter over to my gun and watch as he falls onto his hands and knees, holding his throat as blood starts to bubble and spurt out of his mouth and onto the floor.
I watch as his lips turn purple and he claws at the carpet, my finger itching on the trigger. He looks up at me, defeated, his mouth open and gasping like a fish out of water. He wants me to end it.
I walk over and kick his side. He topples over, landing on his back as he gasps for air. As the last little bits of life drain from his face, I kneel down next to him and say, “Suffer, Yanov. For Nicki, Marla, and most of all, Tati. Suffer for them all.”
His mouth moves, but nothing but a strangled noise comes out. He claws at his bruised throat for a few seconds longer and then, finally, the light in his eyes starts to fade and Yanov is no more.
I wait until that familiar death rattle floats out from between his slack mouth. Then I stand up. Now, to find Nikol—
I’m hit hard from behind. The pain rushes over my head as the world turns on its side and I’m down. The last thing I see before I pass out is Nikolai standing over me…