Chapter 23 Fyodor
FYODOR
Somewhere in the middle of the night I wake up with a jolt.
My body registers danger before my brain catches up to what's happening.
Noemi has shifted off my lap at some point and is curled up on the couch beside me, her head resting on the armrest and her breathing slow and even.
The motel room is dark except for the faint glow coming through the gap in the curtains, and Sasha is still asleep on the bed where we left him.
For a second I don't know what woke me or why my heart is pounding and my muscles are tensed for a fight. But then I hear a soft scratching at the door, the unmistakable sound of someone trying to pick the lock without making too much noise.
I'm on my feet before I even think about it, moving silently across the room to where my clothes are draped over the back of a chair.
They're still damp but mostly dry now, and I pull them on as quickly as I can while keeping my eyes locked on the door.
The scratching stops for a moment and then starts again, and now I hear voices on the other side in harsh whispers.
I move to the door and press my eye to the peep hole, and my stomach drops at what I see.
There are two men in the hallway, wearing dark jackets, crouched by my door knob. I recognize one of them from intelligence reports I studied before coming to Moscow. These are Koslov's men, probably sent by him to take me out before I can get to him.
They've found us somehow, tracked us to this shitty motel, and they're not going to leave until they've dealt with me once and for all.
Because if I get to Marat first, their boss goes to prison and their operation falls apart, and all of them end up either dead or running for the rest of their miserable lives.
If they get in here they won't let me live long enough to finish what I started.
I cross back to the couch and kneel down beside Noemi, putting my hand over her mouth before I shake her awake. Her eyes fly open and I can see the panic in them for a second before she recognizes me and forces herself to calm down.
"Don't make a sound," I whisper against her ear, keeping my voice as low as I can. "There are men at the door trying to get in. We have to run right now."
She nods and I take my hand away from her mouth, watching her sit up and reach for her clothes without making a sound.
They're still draped over the dresser where I left them to dry, and she pulls them on quickly while I grab a chair and wedge it under the door handle to buy us whatever time I can.
It won't hold them for long once they decide to stop being subtle, but every second counts when you're trying to get a woman and a child out of a building without getting everyone killed.
"What about Sasha?" Her voice is barely a whisper but I can hear the worry in it, the concern for my son that goes beyond just keeping him physically safe and extends to all the ways this kind of life can damage a child from the inside out.
"We wake him up and we go out the window."
"He's going to be terrified if we just drag him out of bed and throw him out a window without any warning, Fyodor. We can't do that to him, not after everything else he's been through. There has to be a better way."
There isn't time for explanations or gentle handling or any of the things she thinks are important right now.
The noise at the door is getting louder and I can hear the men getting frustrated with the lock.
They're debating whether to just kick the damn thing in and be done with it.
They're going to break through any second, and then we're all dead and none of this will matter anyway.
"There's no good way to do this," I say, keeping my voice low even though I want to shout from frustration. "You want him happy or alive?" It sounds harsh but it's our current reality, which I am balancing on my shoulders as I shove my feet into my shoes.
"Okay, then we'll make it a learning experience."
I stare at her, completely baffled by what she's suggesting. The men outside are about to break down the door and kill all three of us, and she wants to turn this into some kind of educational moment for my ten-year-old son?
But she's already moving, crossing to the bed where Sasha is still sleeping peacefully under the blanket. She sits on the edge of the mattress and puts her hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently until his eyes flutter open.
"Sasha, honey, I need you to wake up for me."
He blinks at her, confused and groggy, and I watch from across the room while keeping one eye on the door.
The chair is rattling now, the men on the other side putting more force into their attempts to get in, and I check the only weapon I have to find only four rounds in the chamber.
I shove it into my belt as Noemi continues to wake Sasha.
"What's happening?" Sasha's voice is thick with sleep. "Is it morning?"
"Not yet, but we're going to do something exciting." Noemi's voice is perfectly calm. I have no idea how she does it. "Do you remember fire drills at school? How sometimes the alarm goes off and everyone has to practice leaving the building quickly?"
Sasha nods, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Well, even when you're on vacation, sometimes you need to practice for emergencies too.
Hotels and motels can catch fire just like schools can, so it's important to know how to get out safely if something happens.
" She pulls the blanket back and helps him sit up and put his shoes on, though I can see her hands trembling slightly.
"Your papa and I thought this would be a good time to practice, since we're all awake anyway. "
"A fire drill?" He looks around the room, still confused but not scared. "But there's no alarm."
"That's because this is a special kind of drill. Sometimes, fires happen so fast that there isn't time to wait for an alarm. You have to know how to get out through the window in case the door is blocked."
I'm watching this woman work her magic on my son and I can barely believe what I'm seeing.
She's taken a situation that should traumatize him for years, and she's turning it into something he can understand and participate in without fear.
I could never do this sort of thing. I'd never even think of something like this.
"We're going to practice going out the window," she continues, standing up and offering him her hand. "I'll go first to make sure it's safe, and then you'll climb out after me, and he'll be right behind you. Okay?"
"Okay." Sasha takes her hand and lets her lead him toward the window where I'm already working the latch. "Can we get breakfast after?"
"Absolutely. Wherever you want."
I get the window open and look out at the parking lot, scanning for any sign of more men or vehicles that don't belong.
We're on the first floor, thank God, so it's only a short drop to the ground and Sasha won't have to climb down anything dangerous.
The car is parked about twenty meters away, close enough to reach quickly if we move fast and don't stop for anything.
The noise at the door reaches a crescendo and I hear wood splintering as the men finally give up on the lock and start kicking their way in. The chair holds for a few more seconds and then goes flying as the door bursts open.
"Go," I tell Noemi, lifting Sasha and pushing him through the window into her waiting arms. She catches him and sets him on his feet, grabbing his hand and running for the car while I turn to face the men coming through the door.
There are two of them, just like I saw through the peephole, and they're both armed with handguns already drawn.
The first one raises his weapon, but I'm faster, crossing the distance between us before he can get a shot off and driving my elbow into his throat with enough force to crush his windpipe.
He goes down choking and I grab his weapon, turning it on the second man who's coming at me like a freight train.
We struggle for a few seconds, crashing into the dresser and knocking the lamp to the floor where it shatters against the carpet.
He's strong, but I'm stronger and more desperate, and I get my arm around his neck and squeeze until he stops fighting and goes limp in my grip.
The first man is still on the ground trying to breathe through his crushed windpipe, and I give him a hard kick to the head to put him out of his misery.
The second man is conscious but barely, gasping for air with my arm still locked around his throat. I lean in close to his ear and speak slowly so he understands every word.
"Tell your friends that my men are coming to town," I say, making sure he can hear every word through the ringing in his ears.
"They'll be here by morning, and when they arrive we're going to find Marat and we're going to finish this once and for all.
There's nothing you or anyone else can do to stop us, so you might as well start running now while you still can. "
I let him go and he collapses to the floor, coughing and retching and gasping for air.
I don't bother killing him because I need him alive to deliver the message.
Koslov's people need to know I'm not backing down or running away no matter how many men they send after me or how close they come to catching us.
I grab my jacket and climb out the window, dropping to the ground and sprinting for the car. Noemi's already in the back seat with Sasha, and I can see her through the window, talking to him and keeping him calm while I run toward them.
I slide into the driver's seat and start the engine, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the space so fast the tires squeal against the wet pavement.
The motel is behind us in seconds and then we're on the highway heading away from town, putting distance between us and the men I left bleeding on the floor of that room as fast as the car will carry us.
"You did so well on your fire drill, Sasha," Noemi is saying to him in the back seat. She still sounds perfectly calm like nothing happened, and I'm still shocked by that. "I'm really proud of you for staying calm and doing exactly what we asked."
"It was kind of fun, actually," Sasha says, and I can hear the excitement in his voice now that the initial confusion has worn off completely. "Can we do another one sometime?"
"Maybe. But hopefully, we won't need to practice again for a while after this." I hear the concern in her tone and honestly, I hope the same thing.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see my son grinning in the back seat, completely oblivious to the fact that men just tried to kill us and I left one of them dead on the motel room floor.
Noemi has pulled off something I wouldn't have thought possible, turned a terrifying situation into an adventure he'll remember fondly instead of a trauma he'll carry for the rest of his life.
"Papa, can we go to the Moskvarium soon?" Sasha asks, leaning forward between the seats. "Noemi told me about the sharks and I really want to see them."
My instinct is to tell him no, because I'm not sure if we'll be in Moscow long enough to do that, and if we are, I know it's not safe. But Noemi catches my eye in the mirror and gives me a small nod, and I understand what she's telling me.
"We'll see," I say, which is the closest I can get to a yes right now. "Maybe after things calm down a little."
"That means maybe," Sasha says, settling back into his seat with a satisfied smile. "Sometimes, maybe means yes."
"Sometimes it does," Noemi agrees, and I can hear the warmth in her voice as she pulls him against her side. "Now try to get some sleep, okay? We've got a long drive ahead of us."
I watch in the mirror as she wraps her arm around him and he curls into her and yawns. She strokes his hair and hums something soft and low, and within a few minutes, his breathing has evened out and he's asleep again.
The sun is starting to come up on the horizon, and I have no clue where we're going now.
Part of me wishes that I'd have left Noemi and my son in St. Petersburg where they were safe, but I know if I did that, the things that have happened between us would never have happened.
Being on the road and forced to interact with them closely has pushed me outside my comfort zone and made me truly think about what I want in life.
I've done hundreds of little trips like this for Yuri, though never quite this dangerous.
Never once have I had a travel companion.
But while I thought this would be a nightmare, it hasn't turned out that way.
Yes, I've had challenges, and protecting my family from Koslov's goons who've gone on the defensive hasn't been easy, but I don’t think I'd change a thing.
I lift my eyes to the rearview mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of eye contact with Noemi, but her head is back, eyes shut as she tries to rest more.
After a situation like that, it's very telling that she can close her eyes and rest this easily.
It's like she feels safe with me and that makes my heart swell.
I realize I've been thinking of her as my family now for several days, and not in the sense of the bond I have with my brothers in blood who'd do anything for me. Noemi and Sasha are different. I only just met both of them, but they are more family to me than any man in the Gravitch family.
That's a loyalty I have never broken, and I know this new found bond with Noemi and my son is stronger than that. I love them with every fiber of my being, and I never want to be without them again, not for a single second.
I've already proven that I will kill to protect them, and I'll continue to feel that way as long as they're alive.