Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Kolya
“Why can’t I come?” Lucy glared at Kirill. “I arranged this all and I can’t witness a blood covenant?”
Everyone was gearing up in the armory, including my fiancée.
I adjusted the body armor on Chloe. I’d been clenching and unclenching my jaw, pissed at myself that it had come to this.
If I could cocoon her in Kevlar, I would, but all I could do was put her in the Escalade recently outfitted with state-of-the-art armor and bulletproof glass that had been rated for explosives.
Kirill special-ordered it for Lucy, but he was giving it to us for tonight, on the condition that we returned it without a scratch.
I doubted it would come back in one piece.
Ilya had been gathering intel on what we were up against. The Vozhokari were not working alone; whoever the entity that the bratva thwarted when we got rid of Jordan Wilson hired mercenaries as backup.
They were second-tier military contractors, not the best but not the worst either.
“You look tense,” Chloe said.
I shook my head. “I’ll be glad when I get you into the Marriage Ink building.”
“Kolya, if anything happens to me—” Chloe started.
I put a finger on her lips. “Nothing,” I gritted, “is going to happen to you.”
She leaned away to speak. “I talked to Theo. I told him he should give you custody of Sebastian.”
My eyes closed briefly, my chest tightening. “Ah, Chloshka. I don’t want…” I glanced away briefly, an ache stabbing me in the heart. “I’m hurting in here.” I rubbed my chest with a knuckle. “I want a life with you. I think this is an emotion called love—”
She laughed briefly as tears brightened her eyes. “We are so romantic.”
“You and I, we’re not going to be a tragedy,” I told her.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Besides armoring up, we were using encrypted comms. I handed Chloe a gun and several magazines.
We’d only gone to the firing range once, and she’d been rusty, but she had good form and aim.
After all, she plugged two bullets into Jeremiah.
However, it was different when you were firing from a holster or behind a wall, and I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to that.
Sato and Kirill were in his Porsche, which had also been recently retrofitted. That was upon Lucy’s demand. Kirill lamented it was a drag on the sports car’s speed, but better alive than dead, no?
Kirill had reached out to the Cassano crime family.
They were our backup on the streets of New Jersey.
Luckily, Ivan and Irina’s house was in the Alpine borough.
Palisades Interstate Parkway was the only way out.
Dark and tree-lined, extremely deserted at two a.m. Less collateral damage to the public.
Unfortunately, its isolation was the best place for an ambush.
Still, it was our fastest route into Manhattan.
Once we reached the city, the De Luccis were going to be our ally. They’d activated the paramilitary arm that was not part of the crime family, but was a secret organization we knew operated parallel to the underworld.
Human traffickers had become our common enemy, so they jumped at the chance to be involved. Ilya had already been in contact with Trevor, and we’d gotten more intel on the movements of the mercenaries.
It was difficult to tear ourselves away from a sleeping Sebastian. He was dozing peacefully under the watchful eye of Sorcha, unaware that people were going to war for his freedom and his right to exist and grow up without shackles.
Chloe’s declaration that she was fighting for me too had shaken me to the core. That I was also a victim. I’d never thought about it that way, but I loved her even more.
Yes, I loved her. I’d known since the time I almost lost her at the cliff, but I couldn’t find the right moment or words to express to her how I felt, especially with the Vozhokari threat hanging over our heads.
“I’ll come back, Sebby,” she whispered.
I tugged her to my side. “We’ll come back and you’ll be my wife.”
Sorcha grinned.
An entourage watched us go. Aralina was also present, looking pensive before she hugged Kirill.
“You better take care and come back for my wedding,” she signed.
Kirill chuckled. “As much as I hate seeing you married, I wouldn’t miss it.”
Then it was our turn. Chloe had already said goodbye to Ivan.
Aralina pouted at us. “I’m with Lucy. I also wanted to witness a blood covenant.”
I repeated what she had signed to Chloe.
Chloe laughed. “We’ll make sure there’ll be a video.”
“Ready?” Rurik and Dimitri came up to us.
“You should stay behind,” I told Rurik.
“And miss all the fun?”
“Okay, enough of that crazy talk,” Lucy ordered. “Go, before I jump into that car with Kirill.”
“Ilya,” Kirill called out. “I had better get updates about Lucy.”
“Shouldn’t that be the other way around?” Lucy shot back, but I detected a tremor in her voice.
“Christ,” Dimitri muttered. “The rumors are right. Kirill is whipped.”
“One would think we were Spartans going out to battle,” Rurik muttered. “Let’s go, comrade. This is simply another job.”
We were finally on our way. Thank fuck.
Rurik was right. It wasn’t the first time we’d gone to war, but it was the first time we were fighting on a fifteen-mile stretch of highway with a hidden enemy watching our every move.
Our convoy headed out.
Kirill was leading the way with his Porsche.
Followed by an SUV carrying four bratva soldiers.
Then my vehicle. Dimitri was sitting beside me. Chloe was in the passenger seat behind me. Two more SUVs followed with four soldiers each. Rurik brought up the rear.
“If it wasn’t your wife in the car and if it was just us, I would say, this is exciting, no?” Dima spoke in Russian.
I grunted.
“Come on, kuzen. You agree too.”
“You knew something was going to happen.”
“English, please,” Chloe piped in.
“Sorry, Chloshka, just can’t help it,” I said. “You knew something was going to happen?” I repeated my question to Dima.
“Didn’t I warn you the Vozhokari was on the move? And we can never be sure they haven’t hacked the phones we’re using.”
“It’s certainly not from my end, mudak,” I derided.
Our comms crackled.
“Palisades Parkway is smooth sailing in regard to traffic,” Ilya said. We had bratva soldiers on motorcycles as advance scouts, deploying drones, eyeballing the route.
I took the ramp to the parkway, following the lead SUV.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Kirill said. “They’ll be on the lookout for a convoy.”
“It’s like we’re escorting the president.” Rurik chuckled as if we weren’t facing unknown hostiles lurking under the cover of night.
I appreciated my bratva’s nonchalance because with Chloe as the target, my usual calm was battling with the rabid urge to lock my family away.
Ilya was right. There was minimal traffic coming from both directions. The trade-off? There were also minimal exits. The road was lined with trees on both sides that would obscure any attacker, but it also had a grassy median that would allow plenty of room to maneuver.
Kirill’s Porsche was farther out from our convoy. My SUV kept a tight formation with the ones in front and behind me. Rurik, in the fifth SUV, lagged behind, enough so no assailant could lock all of us in.
“Here we go,” Ilya said. “Two SUVs and a motorcycle are speeding up Sylvan Avenue.”
Shit, it was a road that ran parallel and fed into the parkway.
Dimitri leaned forward to check. “I can see their headlights.”
“I just passed a clearing where they could strike,” Kirill said. “Slowing down.”
Our tight formation of three sped up.
Dimitri cackled, ratcheting up his M6. “Here we go.”
“Do not lower the windows, Dima,” I growled.
“Should have sat with Rurik,” he mumbled.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Chloe chanted. It was the first words she’d spoken since she asked us to speak in English.
“Seat belt,” I reminded Chloe, even when I’d buckled her in myself.
“I’m good,” she responded.
My gaze swept to my right. “Yep, it’s about to get rocky.”
The motorcycle jumped the divider first, cutting off Rurik’s vehicle. I checked the other two vehicles, and only one followed the motorcycle.
“Rurik?”
“Kinda busy, comrade,” he clipped.
I kept my eyes forward while Dimitri kept me apprised of the surrounding situation. Rurik was dealing with the hostile SUV. Our rear-guard vehicle was trying to cut off the motorcycle. No one was shooting until we saw a gun.
The motorcycle sped up on Dimitri’s side. I swerved toward it, but it evaded me.
“Could it be Marena?” Chloe asked. The rider had unmistakably female proportions outlined by the black catsuit she was wearing.
The helmet and the black face shield made it hard to identify features.
When the motorcycle weaved in front of our SUV, I also noted the bronze detailing on the rider’s back.
She went parallel alongside me before the bike revved up and shot ahead.
A scout.
“Vehicles on the move from a parking lot in Englewood.”
“We just passed it,” I growled.
“Showtime,” Rurik announced just as an explosion rocked the vehicle. We weren’t hit. But Rurik cursed just as gunfire and chaos ignited.
Having the attackers behind us wasn’t ideal. But moving in tight formation mitigated the situation.
“Rurik! Report!”
“Forge ahead,” he ordered amidst the onslaught of gunfire.
“They would have to fall back once we reach the George Washington Bridge or draw the attention of the cops.”
“Yeah, that’s what they’re avoiding,” Sato said.
“You think?” I muttered.
A few bullets bounced off our windows.
“They’re aiming for the tires,” Feliks, who was behind us, said.
Mine were bulletproof. I wasn’t sure if the others were or how resistant they were.
“You have three vehicles on your ass,” Rurik said.
“Get them off my ass,” I growled.
A blast sent my Escalade careening.
Plink, plink, plink.
Their bullets continued to bounce off the rear windshield.
We heard a pop, the screeching of tires, and our rear-guard vehicle fishtailed and spun out of control.
“Fuck,” Dimitri said. “They took out Feliks.”
“I can’t get to you,” Rurik shouted. “These assholes are pissing me off.”