Chapter 14
ANYA
Idon’t pack much. There’s so little in this house that belongs to me anyway.
I’m sure Viktor will replace the books and the puzzles and whatever inane activity is meant to keep me entertained, but none of it is really mine.
Still, as I lace up my shoes and zip up my jacket, I feel the familiar tightening in my chest.
This is the last time I’ll ever see this room.
It’s become my sanctuary over the last month-and-a-half.
It’s not much. There’s still just the barest of furniture and a handful of clothes Viktor brought me after we arrived.
He’ll probably replace all of that too. What I’ll really miss, though, is the familiarity.
I know this was always meant to be temporary. If anything, I stayed much longer here than I ever thought I would. I resent that when I’m finally able to leave, it’s with Viktor. Where did my will to fight go?
Oh, that’s right, it went in the trash with that positive pregnancy test. That was the day I realized that I couldn’t run anymore. I couldn’t hide from whatever horrors await me in the future. I have a baby to protect and that is all that matters.
I throw my small bag over my shoulder and open the door. The guard stationed outside is silent as usual.
Downstairs, the whole atmosphere feels tense and charged. There are more men in the house than I’ve ever seen, and they’re all completely strapped.
“This is just a precaution,” Viktor says mildly when he sees me come down the stairs. “Everything is going to be fine.”
I nod, but I don’t believe him. In my experience, everything that can go wrong will go wrong, and tonight is really going to test that theory.
The kitchen table is covered in maps, burner phones, and a small pile of keys. Sergei is speaking low with another man, and I can hear them discussing routes and contingencies. Everyone is preparing for a worst-case scenario.
Sergei clears his throat when he sees me standing there. “You ready for this?” he asks.
I look at him through narrowed eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He nods. “Just keep your head down and do whatever Viktor tells you. You’ll have three guards in your car, and a dozen men between the car in front and the car in back.”
“You really think it’s going to come to that?” I ask, challenging him. Viktor might sugarcoat things, but I think Sergei is a straight shooter.
“Your man is ruthless,” he says calmly. “I don’t think there’s anything he isn’t going to do to try and get you back.”
I bristle at his words. Mikhail is not “my man.” That’s the whole point. I don’t belong to him and I never did. I just wish someone would see that.
“We’re leaving out the back,” Viktor says, interrupting us before I can say something cutting to Sergei.
I nod and he guides me out the door, out into the back garden where cold air hits my face.
The gate is already open and the guards flank us as we’re guided into a black SUV.
There are three idling in the alley. One in front of ours and one behind, just like Sergei said.
We wait for a moment while his men load quickly into the other two cars, and then the convoy starts moving.
I’m sandwiched between Sergei and a guard. The driver has one hand on the wheel and one on the gun in the middle console. The guard in the passenger seat sits low, watching for any sign of danger. He’s also clutching a gun, and I know he’s got another in his pantleg if he needs it.
I can’t see much through the dark tint of the SUV, but I can track our movement by the way the light shifts against the glass. We roll down the street and leave the neighborhood. As we exit the street, another car pulls in front of us and another behind, adding to our convoy.
Viktor sits in in silence, staring out the window and watching everything intensely.
I hate the silence. For once, I wish he would say something, just so I can push him.
I want to sharpen my own skills with a verbal jab.
The tenser our ride gets, the more I want to rage against the possibility of anything going wrong.
It’s like I feel myself waking up after a long hibernation.
I keep my posture rigid, forcing myself to breathe.
We’re approaching an intersection where the light is changing.
The lead vehicle clears it, but the car immediately in front of us stops.
Viktor puts his hand on my knee, but I realize it’s not meant to be comforting.
He’s commanding me, without words, to stay still.
My body reacts anyway without my permission. I freeze at his touch, simultaneously craving more of it. His other hand goes into his jacket, where I assume he has a gun hidden. He’s preparing.
Meanwhile, I feel like a sitting duck, right in the middle of everything with no weapon to protect myself. Just as I’m thinking it, another black SUV speeds down the street perpendicular to us and swerves right into the car in front of us, moving it out of our path.
“Go,” Viktor commands the driver, but he isn’t able to maneuver away from the wreckage before the gunfire starts.
The first car in our convoy circles back around, and the men inside burst out, shooting at the attack vehicle.
We’re blocked into the conflict on three sides.
Our only option is to turn around if the driver can manage it.
He’s trying when another SUV comes from a side street and slams sideways into our front end.
The impact snaps my head forward as my seatbelt bites into my shoulder. The driver swears, and Viktor moves instantly. The new car starts firing on us, and I realize the assailants have no idea which car we’re in. They’re going to take our convoy out one by one if they have to.
“Get down,” Viktor instructs, and the driver jerks the wheel.
He’s trying to push us around the block, but the disabled SUV pins us at an angle. I hear tires screaming against the pavement. The SUV behind us slams into us as another car slams into them. It’s a complete ambush.
Viktor realizes it at the same moment.
“Get out and stay low,” he commands.
The guard next to me wrenches open the door, staying low as he exits the vehicle. He leads me out and Viktor follows behind. The driver and the guard in the front take the responsibility of returning fire. My whole world has narrowed to the sound of gunshots.
We’re relatively safe behind the vehicle. As safe as you can be in the middle of an ambush, but I realize there’s nowhere for us to go. There are shops facing us, and they’re all closed down for the night. There’s no alleyway for us to sneak down. The only way out of this conflict is through.
“Give me a gun,” I demand of Viktor.
He doesn’t hesitate. He hands me his spare.
Viktor crosses to the corner behind the vehicle and starts returning fire to the car that hit us. I watch as he takes out the driver and one other man. Unfortunately, not before the guard in our passenger seat takes a hit. His body crumples over the door, hanging out the open window.
I hear screaming in the distance, but it’s swallowed by gunfire. Horns blare too, probably cars who don’t realize what the holdup is about. Tires scrape and screech against the pavement as innocent bystanders try to get away from the chaos. I force myself to get up and assess the situation.
There are more cars than I thought. In addition to the three that hit our convoy, there are two more blocking the intersection and another in the alley on the opposite side. There have to be a dozen shooters, even after Viktor took out two. It’s chaos.
They’re going to kill us all, and then what’s the point? If Mikhail just wanted to extract me, he’s doing a shit job of it. They must think I’m hidden safely in one of the SUVs still.
I crouch behind the rear tire of my car and fire twice at a man who’s advancing from behind us. He stumbles and drops to the ground.
One of Viktor’s men climbs halfway out the window of the SUV behind us to return fire. One of the guards from that vehicle moves around to the rear of our SUV and takes cover behind a mailbox.
Viktor isn’t hiding or retreating. He’s maneuvered to the front of our car and he’s boldly taking shots at anyone in his eye line.
Another SUV pulls into the chaos and more men spill out. We’re outnumbered and outgunned. I watch as one of the men opens the SUV behind us and leans inside. He pulls away, looking upset, and he motions to another of Mikhail’s soldiers.
They’re looking for me.
I fire at the man from my position and catch him in the throat. He goes down soundlessly. The man he motioned to approaches our SUV from the other side. I pop up through the still open door on my side and shoot him in the head.
Besides the guard hanging out the passenger side, our SUV has been abandoned.
I shut the door facing the street and lock it for good measure.
I stay low and look around, trying to assess what’s going on out there.
The driver of the lead vehicle who’d circled back around is dead.
He’s slumped against the wheel and his horn is blaring continuously, shrill and relentless.
Police sirens echo faintly in the distance, not that they’ll be of any help. Our time is running out as quickly as our men are going down. I can’t tell how many of them have taken fire, but at least two are down.
There’s very little chance that any of Viktor’s men are going to make it out of this alive, and then what are my chances?
Mikhail’s men will take me and drag me back to that hell.
I’d rather die. They’ll have to kill me.
That puts a fire in my belly that I can’t contain.
There’s something about accepting death that makes you feel completely reckless.
I wrench open the door facing the street and get out of the car. Mikhail’s men won’t purposely shoot at me, which gives me every advantage.
Viktor looks back at me, surprised and angry. He shoots a man behind me who’s approaching quickly.
“Get back in the car,” he screams at me.
“They want me alive,” I shout back at him.
He growls and pushes me behind him as he fires three more rounds. I take a shot at two men, but it empties my clip. I need to reload.
“I need more ammo,” I shout at him.
“You need to get back in the car,” he shouts back, grabbing my elbow and dragging me back.
“No,” I scream, pulling my arm out of his grasp. “All of your men are going to die because of me.”
“Better them than you,” he answers, trying to force me back inside the SUV, but I don’t budge.
In his distraction, he doesn’t see the man approaching from the alleyway. He’s so focused on forcing me back into the car, he has his guard down. I push him out of the way of the shooter. He turns quickly and shoots the man in the head, but it’s too late.
I feel the heat blooming underneath my ribcage. I’ve been hit.
“Anya!” Viktor screams, and his face goes pale.
With each passing second, it’s harder and harder to focus on his voice. He screams something, but I can’t hear him anymore.
Then everything goes dark.